Be mine - A Teenlock/Johnlock

9. Caring is dangerous

John and Sherlock were still sitting in Sherlock's garden. John resting in the hammock peacefully and Sherlock sitting cross-legged in front of him. They were talking about several things. It was a calm conversation. Both loving to be here. The sun was slowly hiding behind the clouds.

"John!" Someone yelled. Both boys snapped their heads towards the voice. Someone from John's house was peeking out a window. It was a young woman, clearly John's sister.

"What is it Harry?" John asked loudly, annoyed by her presence.

"Greg's here!" She yelled and slammed her window closed. John swallowed and turned his face to stare into Sherlock's bright blue, green eyes. He smiled softly and Sherlock returned the smile with pleasure.

"See you tomorrow?" John asked, getting out of the hammock. He had plans with Greg Lestrade, going to swim with some others. So he could get to know some people.

"Tomorrow?" Sherlock asked confused.

"School." John said with a laugh.

"Ah yes, school. Of course." Sherlock muttered.

"Goodbye, Sherlock." And with that John left, politely walking inside the house, searching for Sherlock's mother but was met with Mrs Hudson instead. Sherlock could hear her speaking with a lot enthusiasm to John, making John feeling uncomfortable. Sherlock rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly and laid himself down in his hammock. It didn't take long before Ms Hudson trotted towards him, her smile as big like the Cheshire Cat. Her hands were covered on her mouth, trying not to scream for the whole neighbourhood.

"Sherlock!" She cried out, approaching him. Sherlock sighed, staring at her with a dull expression. "I'm so happy that you've made a friend. Oooh. John is such a good boy for you." She said gleefully.

"Mrs Hudson please!" He said, frowning at her with a tiny smile lingering on his lips.

"Sorry." She giggled. "Oh and dear. Mycroft just arrived. I will make you two your favourite dish for dinner." She said motherly. Sherlock groaned at the thoughts of sharing dinner with his brother. But he nodded and faced away from her, laying on his side. She muttered something and strolled away, giggling. Sherlock then closed his eyes.

Around six o'clock, Mrs Hudson called Sherlock inside for dinner. He wandered inside, approaching the dining table, giving Mycroft a look before sitting down.

"Brother dear." Mycroft said, looking away from his phone. The food wasn't served yet, so Mycroft kept him busy on his phone. Sherlock ignored his brother, growling softly and leaned on his hand palm with his chin resting heavily on it. Mycroft lifted an eyebrow before continuing. "Nice boy. John Watson." He said, clearly disgusted about it. Sherlock directly snapped his head up, staring icily at his brother. "Do you even remember what happened with you years ago Sherlock." Mycroft asked with a serious tone.

"Of course I remember." He snapped.

"Emotional attachment is a defect, a fail and it's dangerous. You out of all people should know this. I don't want you to see you like this anymore, Sherlock. We did everything we could do to protect you, we almost lost you twice. I don't want this boy to break your heart like most humans do. There is nobody to take care of you if this happens again. Mrs Hudson can't handle you alone in a situation like that." Mycroft sighed. Years ago Sherlock started to harm himself after Redbeard died. Most people thought it was ridiculous to harm yourself for a dog. But for Sherlock Redbeard wasn't just a dog. It was his dog. The only living creature that stayed at his side. When Sherlock was learning to walk, he used Redbeard as support. Since then, the two were inseparable.

"John isn't like that." Sherlock pointed out, muttering.

"That's what you say now." Mycroft stated. Sherlock shook his head, laughing bitterly. "Sherlo-" Mycroft trailed off as Mrs Hudson walked inside, laying the plate with food in front of the two Holmes boys. She smiled at both of them and wandered away.

"It was always you," Sherlock mumbled. "You were the one everybody loved. You were smart, sophisticated, and polite. I am not. Mom always liked you more. She didn't say it. She didn't have to. She always was so easy to read." Sherlock bite his lip as he remembered this. Mycroft had always been the epitome of perfection in every aspect of his life. Teachers called him a model student. Their mother was always so proud of her perfect son. "Can't I for once, have someone who cares for who I am?" Sherlock said, more likely asking for permission.

"Sherlock. It's for the best. You can't trust humans, they're dangerous. Remember what you promised Redbeard when he –"

"Don't say it!" Sherlock roared throwing his arms up.

"Sherlock."

"Why do you always have to ruin everything?" Sherlock spat, trying to calm himself down.

"I'm doing it for you Sherlock. We both know what happens if this ends like years ago. Dad will put you in a strict boarding school if you harm yourself again." Mycroft said calmly, taking a bite from his meat. Sherlock sighed sadly but nodded. Millions of thoughts were racing through his head. He truly enjoyed John's company and it gave him the best feeling he ever felt, being around John. But then again, Mycroft was right. He couldn't risk things. But John would never break his heart, right?

Both boys continued eating in silence. When Sherlock was done, he stood up and turned around to go to his room but stopped as Mycroft spoke up.

"Sherlock, remember I'm here for you." He said softly. Sherlock frowned before he scoffed and entered his room. He opened his curtains, trying to catch a glimpse from John, but was met with an empty garden. Sherlock shook his head, sighing. This has to stop.

The next morning Sherlock was ready to go to school. He was in the hallway, shrugging on his coat. He peeked outside, looking if John already left the house. When she saw that John was still inside, he grabbed his rucksack and hurried towards the bus stop. Sherlock sighed, hoping John wouldn't be on the bus today. Because he really didn't want to hurt John. Sadly for him, John was slowly making his way over to Sherlock. A bright smile plastered on his face. Sherlock clenched his teeth and hastily pulled out his phone and earphones, but it was too late, John already spoke up.

"Good morning, Sherlock." John said lovely, looking at the young detective. Sherlock avoided eye contact with John. Even inside, he would love to see John's face. He just hummed in reply, looking straight forwards. John's head tipped up towards Sherlock, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?" He asked with slight concern. Sherlock didn't reply, the only thing he did was putting his earphones reluctantly in his ears. Sherlock then looked out of the corner of his eyes, and he wished he didn't.

Hurt