Where We Started

Not so Star Trek

Sherlock lead the way, starting along the little path they used to get water yesterday. It sounded so peaceful and summer-like, reminding John painfully of home. This marked the second full day he was gone, by now his parents would no doubt be worried out of their minds, thinking some creepy guy picked him up in a van or something, or that he had died in the house. And poor Mike, he must be blaming himself for everything that was happening. Even though it was his fault, John didn't think he deserved to be beating up on himself for something neither of them could control. But the good thing was that John was safe, or at least he was now, he had a temporary home, a new friend, food and water, he was set.
"Keep up John!" Sherlock called, swinging a low hanging branch out of the way. John realized that, while lost in thought, he was walking exceptionally slow.
"Coming!" he called, jogging to catch up to Sherlock, who was waiting for him.
"Lost in dreamland again?" Sherlock asked.
"Sorry." John muttered.
"Oh no it's fine; I like to retreat to my mind when things get particularly rough." Sherlock admitted.
"What gets rough around here?" John asked, under the impression that everything in this secluded house went the same way every day.
"Oh just when I feel lonely, which is very uncommon, but sometimes I feel like I need to talk to someone else." Sherlock shrugged.
"Well, you've got me." John pointed out.
"And we're both working to get you away as quickly as possible." Sherlock sighed, kicking away a thorn bush that was blocking their way.
"I'm sorry Sherlock, I really am, but I need to get home. Maybe you could come with me, if I ever find a way." John decided.
"I'm needed here." Sherlock muttered, sounding truly disappointed.
"And I'm needed there. I guess we're on the same page then." John shrugged. Sherlock nodded, looking a bit sad though. John knew it must be hard, finally having a friend, but right now John had no way of getting back to his own world, so that might be good news for Sherlock. It was such a nice day out, the sun shining through the trees, the sounds of the river bubbling ahead of them, the birds chirping, bugs buzzing, summer at its finest.
"So, I imagine we'll have to load up for Irene's visit." John guessed.
"Oh course, the groceries are going to be a lot more than usual, Mrs. Hudson likes to make four course meals, once again it's all about showing off of course." Sherlock shrugged.
"We'll bring a wheelbarrow." John decided.
"If you insist, but won't we look a little bit peculiar totting a wheelbarrow along with us?" Sherlock pointed out.
"A lot better than holding shopping bags in our teeth." John debated. They had made it to the stream, the water bubbling over the stones and the leaves swirling in mini whirlpools.
"Let's walk in the water." John suggested.
"It's a bit deep." Sherlock pointed out.
"Well we'll start somewhere shallow, take off our shoes and live a little bit." John shrugged. Sherlock smiled proudly at him, as if he were finally demonstrating things he had wanted to teach him all along.
"Alright Mr. Watson, lead the way." He decided, kicking his shoes off. John did the same, peeling off his socks and stuffing them in the shoes.
"Just leave them here I suppose." John shrugged, setting the shoes down near some rocks and dipped his toe cautiously in the water. It was chilly, but felt good compared to the hot air.
"You're really tempting me to push you in." Sherlock pointed out with a smile.
"You know I'd severely injure you for that." John debated, walking farther downstream to where the water would come up maybe to his shins. The bottom of his jeans would get wet, but they were all he had, so he'd have to sacrifice. Sherlock was wearing jeans as well, whether to make John feel better about his lack of selection or simply because he didn't like shorts, but either way they were both going to face the consequences. John stepped into the water, the current tugging slightly at his heels, but he was able to stand it. If anything was going to make him fall it was the slippery rocks below the water, which would probably be responsible for at least one fall.
"Wait up John!" Sherlock called, splashing his way to catch up, almost falling on his face as he struggled along the current. Finally he caught up, splashing John briefly with water as he walked up, but John just laughed.
"About time you joined me." John decided.
"I did say lead the way I guess, but you could've waited." Sherlock pointed out with a small little pout. They continued down the stream, displacing rocks and getting soaked more than John had predicted. He was scared there would be a cray fish or something would pop out from under the rocks and snap his feet. John didn't like little water creatures, especially if they had pinchers and lived under rocks. Sherlock, meanwhile, looked more scared of gravity at the moment, slipping around on the rocks and obviously being tossed around by the current more than John was.
"You're so stupid." John laughed as Sherlock, once again, caught his balance with a sharp yell of surprise.
"Do I have to remind you of my IQ?" he asked.
"Oh yes, you are so impressive, but what use is a brain when you can barely walk?" John pointed out, stepping on top of a large rock and jumping off, splashing both of them with river water.
"No splashing." Sherlock said, but as he said it he kicked water up at John, sending a couple of droplets into his face.
"I'm not splashing." John defended, returning fire with a more powerful kick, sending a small wave into Sherlock's legs. Sherlock stepped back in fright, but somewhere in the mux he lost his balance, falling right into John with a screech. John caught him though, before he could bring them both down, seizing him around his chest and, for a moment, holding him in his arms. Sherlock had a goofy smile on his face, staring up at John with those shining green eyes, his hair thrown back and dangling. But John pushed him back to his feet, as if coming out of a trance sort of thing, not knowing whether to laugh at his lack of balance or apologize.
"Sorry." Sherlock muttered instead of pushing John into the water, blushing slightly and splashing along.
"What are you apologizing for, I splashed you!" John pointed out, but Sherlock didn't make an effort to debate the topic, looking very awkwardly flustered. John ignored him, probably the heat making his cheeks red, John felt that his own cheeks were kind of warm, so it had to be the hot air. They continued walking in slight silence; Sherlock was keeping a little more distance than usual, and was far quieter than John had ever seen him. There was nothing awkward about it, nothing romantic, nothing at all, obviously.
"So are you still going to play all night at the pub on Friday?" John asked.
"I already gave them my word I guess; can't back out on it now." Sherlock pointed out.
"If you need to give out you can, I assume Irene will want her masquerade to go up to at least three in the morning, I doubt you could survive that little sleep over two days." John debated.
"You seem more concerned for my wellbeing than I am." Sherlock pointed out.
"Well I am worried; I don't want you to get sick."
"I'm perfectly fine John." Sherlock assured.
"Well, it's your funeral." John shrugged, acting as if Sherlock's death wouldn't affect him the slightest.
"If you're suggesting I'll catch the plague then you need to stop getting your hopes up. You won't get rid of me that quickly." Sherlock pointed out.
"As if I'd want to get rid of you! Right now you're my only friend, and if you died I'd probably follow from starvation and loneliness." John sighed, the guilty truth.
"Well I can't have that on my conscious, I'll make sure not to die then." Sherlock decided, rolling his eyes with a shy smile.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't die for my sake, I'm saying you shouldn't die in general, it would break my heart." John decided, making Sherlock blush once more.
"I'm not all that important." Sherlock muttered. "You could always live with Greg, and I'm sure Molly would take you in even if you were passing the plague out."
"Well I can tell you don't think much of yourself." John guessed.
"I'm brilliant." Sherlock pointed out.
"But you don't think much of yourself all the same." John debated.
"I don't want to have deep soul talks right now? I'm not going to lay down all of my flaws and my internal conflicts." Sherlock groaned.
"So you have some?"
"You don't?" Sherlock asked, as if that were the more preposterous of the two questions.
"Well, I do, but it's more interesting to listen to someone else's." John admitted.
"It's very nice to know that I'm nothing but an entertaining sob story." Sherlock said with a childlike frown.
"Forget I said it." John sighed. Sherlock nodded, as if that was exactly what he was planning on doing, and continued splashing. After a little while of trudging through the creek the bottom of John's feet felt shredded and his legs were tired, so they found a low hanging log that was sticking out right above the rushing water, and with a little bit of effort they both managed to sit down on it, even though it wobbled threateningly. John sighed, looking at the bottom of his feet to see that they were indeed cut up and bleeding slightly into the lingering water still clinging to his skin.
"It'll heal, don't worry." Sherlock assured.
"Speaking of heal, I bet your cat scratches are worse." John guessed, but when Sherlock turned his head there was no blood sticking in his hair or anything, just the scratched.
"Well, you're lucky." John muttered, hating to have to admit he was wrong. Sherlock just laughed, splashing his toes into the current for something to do.
"It's so peaceful out here." he decided, looking around the forest. John agreed, there were no sounds of humans in the entire woods, or at least that he could hear.
"A lot different from home." He agreed.
"You don't have woods where you live?" Sherlock asked, looking surprised and somewhat worried.
"Oh no, we have woods, but you can't turn you head without seeing a tree stand or a no trespassing sign." John shrugged.
"You're not allowed to go in the woods?"
"I didn't say I listen to the signs."
"Do people live in the tree stands?" Sherlock asked curiously.
"No, they sit in them for a day or so, with a gun or a bow, and shoot deer that happen to come along." John shrugged.
"That's awful. How can't a deer see the stands though?"
"I have no idea, I think they're color blind or something." John guessed.
"So instead of whoever they are blowing up, they'd grey up." Sherlock pointed out. It took John a little while to see what in the world he was talking about, but then he remembered the stupid joke, where you had to say the color of the sky.
"Yes, apparently so, and that's secretly how the hunters kill them. They get them confused with knock knock jokes." John laughed.
"Really?" Sherlock asked stupidly.
"No!" John exclaimed, and Sherlock just smiled innocently. "You can't take everything I say so literally."
"So wait, are there aliens where you come from, because you told me that first night that there were." Sherlock asked, looking like a hopeful kid being told the Tooth Fairy isn't real.
"There are no aliens, well, not that we know of yet, I'm pretty sure we sent rovers to Mars to look though." John pointed out.
"You got things out of Earth?" Sherlock asked with amazement.
"Oh ya, we sent a spaceship up to the moon with people in it, America was the first to have people walking on the actual moon." John said, gazing up to the sky to look if the moon was still visible in the sky. It was, a silver crescent in the blue, cloudless sky.
"How in the world could you...." For the first time even IQ 190 Sherlock seemed at a loss for words, just staring at John with his mouth hanging slightly open.
"That's amazing, absolutely amazing." He decided, making John smile proudly. These people were from his generation, but looking on that now they might as well be family. The 2015 family, all living together in peace and happiness and always thrusting nuclear weapons in each other's faces, ah yes, peaceful.
"Don't think we're all brilliant, there are a lot of idiots out there." John assured.
"We've got our fair share of idiots as well, it's nothing new." Sherlock agreed.
"But in my time we're probably all going to blow each other up with radioactive missiles and stuff, destroy the earth's surface and atmosphere."
"That's too bad. Good thing I won't be around to see it." Sherlock shrugged.
"You've still got some surprises around here as well; I hope you're around to see it though." John decided.
"As do I. It feels like I was cheated in some way, being born in this time, and not with you, or at least around your times, so I could play video game instead of reading books all the time." Sherlock shrugged.
"I'd love to live here, but I think what would be better is if you come with me, we can both go to my time and be best friends forever. BFFL's." he added with a laugh.
"What?" Sherlock asked.
"Best Friends For Life, some stupid acronym a twelve year old made up I'm guessing." John shrugged.
"That is very weird." Sherlock decided.
"I agree." John nodded.
"I would love to come with you, and if I get the opportunity I might consider it, but for the same reason you can't stay here I might not be able to leave here. Mrs. and Mr. Hudson, they need someone, they're getting older now."
"They'll find a new servant, it doesn't need a doctorate." John pointed out.
"I'm going to nod and pretend I understood what you just said." Sherlock warned, nodding his head in agreement with a slight playful smile.
"Forget it, but to be a servant you don't need to have a clue what's going on, I am living proof of that." John pointed out with a smile.
"Still, they've grown fond of me to an extent, I got a pay raise last year and they invite me to Christmas dinner and stuff like that." Sherlock shrugged.
"I don't want to pressure you into doing stuff you don't want to, I guess we'll cross the bridge when we come to it." John decided.
"If it ever comes." Sherlock added with a slight sigh. John had a strange feeling to sit closer to him, hold his hand and tell him that everything was okay, that they would be together forever, but that was a lie. There seemed to be no way they'd be together, the complications outweighed everything in the end. But John resisted the urge, just swinging his feet into the water once more. Sherlock looked especially radiant today, the sunlight was streaming through his curls, lighting his face, eyes, and smile in the process. There was no wonder why Irene and Molly were head over heels for this guy, whoever his crush was obviously was a lucky girl. Not like John was jealous or anything, just because Sherlock was attractive didn't mean he would go against pretty much his entire life and actually go out with him, he was just pointing out the obvious. He was happy that Sherlock was happy, it gave him that fluttery feeling in his stomach whenever the once frowning and lonely face light up at even the smallest of things. He deserved a friend, deserved something more than a friend, anything to make the poor boy smile once John was gone.