New Feelings to Drown

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Short Chapter

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Sherlock sat boredly through the last of his classes. John wasn't in any, so he had nobody to talk to but Sally, and she hates him.

When the class was finally over, he took his books outside and sat in the shade of a willow tree to read. It was a nice day, probably one of the last before autumn melts into winter, and the future detective was going to take advantage of it.

"Good to see you enjoying the nice weather!"

Sherlock looked up from the pages of an Agatha Christie mystery to see a familiar blonde boy, now changed into the uniform, heading toward him with a smile.

"Hi, John."

The future doctor plunked himself down next to him and looked over his shoulder.

"Agatha Christie?"

"Yep. She specialized in mystery stories."

"I know. Good pick."

Sherlock sneaked a small smile before returning to the book world. John sighed and leaned his head back to rest it on the trunk of the willow tree. Sherlock liked the way John smelled. He knew it was a weird thing to think, but it's true. He smells of strawberry jam and conditioner, and it was a nice contrast to the scent of fresh air and willow leaves.

The future detective was aware of his growing crush on the new boy, and it hurt to know John would never feel the same. The future doctor is straight, and even if he wasn't there's no way he'd like a guy like Sherlock.

Not a chance.

Sherlock felt awkward being this close. Their shoulders were almost touching, and it took every muscle of restraint not to pull John in for a kiss. He felt like a young schoolgirl, being smitten like this, but he couldn't help it.

John's adorable.

He's the only one who's ever shown any genuine care towards the future detective, and he's one who brought back his smile, and even his laugh. He didn't even know he remembered how to laugh!

Not to mention the amazing ocean-blue eyes and golden blonde hair. Even his smile is to die for, and the way he holds himself.

Like a true soldier.

Sherlock admires John's confidence. It's something the future detective has lacked for a while.

"Well, well, well," a familiar unusual voice broke the silence. Sherlock reluctantly looked up from his book, in unison with John, to see Jim and Sebastian looming over them, with Irene tagging behind.

He closed the book and slowly stood, dwarfing the bully, but staring eye-to-eye with Seb. John stood too, being dwarfed by everyone.

How cute.

"What do you want, James?"

"It's JIM, freak."

Sherlock took a ragged breath in and out, "What do you want, Jim?"

"Just wanted to know why you're still alive. This world is better off without you, y'know."

"Just back off, Jim! You don't say that to people!" John stepped in front of the taller student, making Jim smirk.

"What're you gonna do about it, doctor?"

John tried to control his anger.

"Just leave us alone," Sherlock said raggedly.

"Aww, am I hurting you?" Jim stepped forward, flicking Sherlock's nose, "Sorry."

John lost it and punched the spider right on the nose. Sebastian jumped to defend, and within moments it was a full-out fist fight.

Irene and Sherlock both escaped to their own dorms, and Sherlock tried to control his breathing. John was getting himself hurt to defend him, and he's just abandoned him.

He cupped his face in his hands and slid down the wall, blinking back tears. They were coming back again.

The feelings.

He crawled back into the bathroom, cringing. Not again.

He dug out the blade and yet again cut his wrists a couple times, letting the blood wash away the feelings. He sat there leaning against the bathtub for a while before washing off the cuts and exiting, just as John came in the dorm, holding ice up to his cheek and two bloody tissues sticking out his nostrils.

"Sorry I left you..." Sherlock began.

"Ish fine," John muttered, "I wanted you to."

The future doctor headed into the bathroom to wash up, pausing before poking his head out the door and asking, "Why's there blood in the sink?"

"Maybe from your nose?" Sherlock pulled his hands into his sleeves.

"No, the tissues are holding the blood in. It's not mine."

"I haven't been in the bathroom since I got back, so I don't know."

"Well, it isn't mine, and nobody else uses our bathroom, Sherlock. Did you cut your finger or something?"

"Yeah...Sort of. I'm okay."

"I know first aid, can I have a look?"

"No, it's fine."

"There's a lot of blood here--"

"I'm FINE."

"...Alright."

Confused and worried, John washed up and renewed the tissues in his nose.

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