Consider love - A Johnlock

3. Two doctors

After Molly left the classroom with watery eyes. Sherlock kept sitting in his chair, legs atop his desk, thinking about how the day went. He's quite happy that he's here right now. He didn't think he would enjoy teaching empty heads. His brother Mycroft monthly deposit a lot of money on Sherlock's bank account. Since that Sherlock never left his flat. Mycroft decided to stop depositing money unless Sherlock found a proper job. Mycroft didn't mention if it had to be full time. So here he is, teaching adults Dutch, six hours in a week.

Sherlock stretched his legs and got up and walked out of the school. He stopped on the side of the road, gesturing for cabs to stop and soon enough one pulled over. And he then climbed inside.

"To 221B Bakerstreet, please" he gave the address to the driver, once he sat on the back seat of the cab. The cabby nodded and thrusted the car forwards, on his way to the address Sherlock just gave him. Ten minutes later the taxi arrived at the destination. Sherlock paid the taxi driver and stepped out. He silently put his keys into the keyhole and opened the door softly, not wanting to make any noise that would cause Ms. Hudson to come greeting him, asking him about how his day went.

He padded upstairs and as he entered the flat, he immediately walked over to where his violin case is lying. He opened the case on his lap and lifted out his violin and stood up. He picked up the bow and placed it on the stings. The crisp sound echoed throughout the flat as he started to play a song he learned when he was younger. He used to play this song for Redbeard. Smiling as redbeard barked at him, his tail wagging happily. Sherlock then sighed as he heard footsteps on the stairs. The door opened and Ms. Hudson walked inside, Sherlock refused to stop playing or turning around to greet her.

"Hello Sherlock, how was your day?" She asked as she walked inside.

"It was fine." He mumbled, briefly looking over his shoulder and rolled his eyes as he saw her cleaning up the kitchen. He then swivelled around and placed his violin on the sofa and paced towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving Ms. Hudson alone.

The next day nothing much happened, Sherlock stayed in the flat the whole day. In the morning Mycroft and Greg visited him. Informing about Sherlock's new job. Mycroft said it's a good start and decided to keep depositing money on his bank account. In the evening Sherlock did nothing. He just laid the whole day in the sofa, being in his mind palace.

Its Wednesday now and again Sherlock woke up with the sun in his eyes. He groaned and rolled over on his side, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and left his room. Sherlock's stomach rumbled. He placed his hand on his stomach. He didn't eat for five days now, and he thought it's acceptable to eat something now. He walked over to his fridge and scanned it. Everything is rotten. The cheese, melon, ham slices and the yoghurts were out of date. Only the drinks in the fridge were fine. Sherlock put on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck. And left the flat.

He pulled his coat tighter around his frame to keep out the cold air. While he did, he passed by a tea restaurant but stopped as soon as he saw a similar face. He narrowed his eyes at the man sitting inside. John Watson was sitting there alone. He looked like a mess. His hair was a little bit greasy, his eyes swollen with bags under it. He had a stubble beard, you can barely see it, but it's there. The place was empty, the waitress stood behind the counter texting her boyfriend and John just sat there, staring at his empty glass water.

Sherlock for a moment planned to walk inside, and greet John. But he didn't. He just walked away towards the store. When he entered the store he picked up a basket and started 'shopping'. He managed to find bread, milk, extra coffee, a jar of jam, Nutella, shampoo, tooth paste, two bars of soap, toilet paper, apples and a bunch of bananas. He didn't need everything, but ahh well, why not.

As he wandered back, he was thinking about John. Wondering if John was still sitting there. If he was, then Sherlock decided to walk inside and say hi or something. And there he was. John Watson still sitting motionless at the table. Sherlock sighed and slowly walked inside, looking around for a moment before heading towards John's table. He ruffled his hair and coughed. John didn't seem to notice him, he kept staring forwards. Sherlock coughed again and now John looked up.

"Oh! Mr. Holmes." John said, startled from Sherlock's sudden acknowledge.

"Sherlock." Sherlock corrected him.

"Yes, right. I'm sorry."

"May I sit down?"

"Umm, yes sure." John replied, stuttering. He felt quite uncomfortable to sit here with Sherlock as he was looking horrible. John knew he looked like a homeless person right now. He's just having a really hard time. And he needed some fresh air, because sitting alone in his apartment made him even more frustrated. He scratched his forehead while Sherlock sat down and then he looked up at Sherlock.

"I'm sorry that you have to see me like this." John said quietly. Just then the waitress arrived at their table, she looked dull at the two of them, chewing her gum.

"Want to order something?" She asked coldly, giving a look of disgust to John.

"I'm fine thank you." John replied.

"Sir, you're sitting here for four hours now. And you only ordered one glass of water, from the crane." She firmly pointed out. Sherlock looked tensely at John, deducing him. He looked at the corner of John's lips, seeing something sticky. Must be coffee or tea from in his apartment.

"One tea and a coffee." Sherlock said to the waitress, in a non-friendly way. Hoping that he deduced John right. It's a pure gamble. She rolled her eyes and nodded and left the two of them alone.

"John. You don't have to apologize to me, because you're having a hard time." Sherlock said friendly.

"You don't have to pay for me." John replied stiffly.

"Who said the tea was for you?" Sherlock replied with a smirk, what made John smile. John sat more straight and excused himself. He had to go to the bathroom. He didn't have to pee or poop. He just wanted to splash a bit water on his face. So he looked more bearable. He didn't want Sherlock to be seen with someone like him. He looked in the mirror, and sighed at how miserable he looked. He then left the room and headed back to his table. The waitress was just placing their orders onto the table and again she gave John a look of disgust. Normally people would drool over him. But okay.

When he sat down, he looked at Sherlock whose face was now covered with steam. Sherlock then looked down at his tea, his stomach grumbled at the sight of a cookie lying beside his cup. He grabbed it and put it in his mouth.

"So." John started. "Why being a teacher?" He asked. Sherlock shrugged, as he kept staring at John. "For the girls?" John added with a tiny smile.

"Definitely not." Sherlock said firmly, a look of disgust on his face, what made john chuckle.

The two of them kept talking for a couple minutes, talking about the first lessons. John told Sherlock a little bit more about the shot accident and how he found out that Mary cheated on him. Sherlock didn't really talk a lot about himself, he preferred to listen to John. Sherlock then told John that he was doing the groceries.

"You didn't eat for five days?" John blurted out, his eyed widened.

"I only eat when necessary." He replied firmly.

"As a doctor I demand that you go home and make food." John half demanded, trying to be serious but his smile on his face ruined it. Sherlock rolled his eyes but obeyed and stood up, with a smile plastered on his face.

"Okay then, doctor." He said mildly as he put on his coat and lifted up his bag with food. He then walked over to the counter and paid the bill and walked back to John and spoke up again.

"John, I don't have to be a doctor, to see that you need rest." He said with a soothing voice. John looked up.

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "Yes, you're right."

"Good, see you tonight then?"

"Yes, absolutely." With that, Sherlock left with a last smile.