Just The Name

Chapter 3

John was woken to his phone alarm blaring in his ear.

Mary and Greg had let him spend the night in their room after he told them about the monster of a roommate he had.

Then he'd just sort of... stayed until the first day.

He felt bad, but also preferred it here than to with... that.

Now it was time for his first class, so he hurried back to his dorm to change, being as quiet as he could to let Castiel sleep.

He almost screamed, however, when he realized Cas' eyes were wide open.

"Castiel?" He asked, nervously.

"Good morning, John." Cas said.

"Right." John said, hurrying over into the bathroom.

"What's your name?" Cas asked through the door as John changed.

John hesitated. He'd remembered how nicely he'd been managing to avoid that question.

"John. John Watson. You... are Castiel, right?" He called as he fumbled with the button on his pants.

His hands were now shaking.

"I am." There was a silence. "What's your soulmates name?"

"Don't have one." John lied, as he buttoned up a plaid shirt and pulled a jacket on over top.

"Oh."

There was another long silence. "Er... What's yours, then?" John asked as he opened the door.

"Dean." Castiel responded.

John nodded.

"Any classes this morning?"

"Just one with Professor Hudson."

"She goes by Mrs. Hudson." John said, remembering her from last year. "I've got her, too. I also have Professor Singer this afternoon."

Cas nodded. "Well, you go on ahead. I'll meet you there." He said.

John didn't understand this, because if Cas waited much longer he'd be late, but, not wanting to walk alongside Cas, he didn't argue this.

He got halfway down the hall, and was outside the only other door to a dorm on this floor when he heard the shouting.

It sounded like someone was shouting into a phone.

Curious, he knocked on the door.

There was a pause, then a frustrated sigh, then the door opened to reveal a rather frazzled looking man, in his pajamas.

"Nothing to worry about, can't find my violin, you're going to be late to class and..." He hesitated, then proceeded, "Mrs. Hudson doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"How did you-" before John could ask his question, the man slammed the door in his face.

***

Sherlock kept on picturing the boy at the door as he searched for his violin.

His hands were in gloves, fingerless, the style most commonly used for people trying to hide their soulmates name for one reason or another.

He wondered the same thing he'd wondered when he met Sam.

If perhaps this boy was John.

The John scrawled on Sherlocks hand was left open and exposed, and a part of him was hoping the boy would bang on the door again and ask if he was Sherlock.