Boarding School Secrets: A SuperWhoLock AU

Lock

A/N: yo.

Hey. Yeah, so I'm back.

Thank you so much for all your guy's support for my little personal hiatus I do not believe that there is any vocabulary that I could use to express my gratitude for your understanding and support. There wasn't a single negative response (that I heard of anyway) and I was so scared that I would lose following for my story and I'm so happy to be proven wrong

Also during hiatus I passed the 1 year mark of this story and I'm so thankful to all of you who have motivated me to keept writing and whether you're new or been here through it all I love you. Seriously. We have a profound bond.

So now that mushy stuff is out of the way, yeah this chapter is short but it's late and I wanted to get it done tonight. I'm not fully recovered but I felt good enough to get about half of what I usually write. It's a start.

Also this would have been out earlier but I had problems with my old laptop and I had to send it away to get fixed and turned out it couldn't so they kept my laptop and I lost my new hetalia america sticker that I put on it *extreme frown*

Anywho.... story.

Chapter 33

John leaned against the frame of his bed, closing his eyes and trying to block out his parent’s shouting coming from the other side of the thin walls. He had been at school so long that he had to relearn to take it in as nothing more as white noise.

                “There is no way I’m letting that thing into my home!” his father thundered.

                “She is your daughter!” his mom countered at the same level. Of course, Harry. When were they not arguing about her? His older sister went against their parents so much that it was all John could do to become the perfect son. Of course, he wasn’t so perfect anymore, but they didn’t need to know that, now did they. He glanced down at his phone, looking at the text message he had rewritten at least 20 times in the past day, but couldn’t bring himself to send.

To: Sherlock

How r u?

It wasn’t a masterpiece, but John knew that he couldn’t just write anything to Sherlock. He would say he’s bored and the other boy would probably figure out that he’s hiding from his parents based on the text message alone. Plus, there was that whole thing before he had left, when Sherlock said that he could just text him if he needed anything.

Well, right now he needed Sherlock, but he was too stubborn right now to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. John heard footsteps coming towards his room, and he quickly scrambled to grab one of his textbooks, opening to a random page and staring at it just as his door swung open. He glanced up and saw his father squinting at him suspiciously, but saying nothing.

                “Dinner.” He grunted, then turned to shut the door behind him before adding another sentence. “Harry’s coming.” Shit John thought, banging his head against his book. No wonder his dad was upset, it seems harry was showing up a day earlier than she had said. She was never known to keep her word. John rolled out of bed and made his way to the kitchen table, where his dad was already nursing a beer and his mom was putting a packet of ice up to a reddening spot up by her hairline.

Home sweet home.

He slowly sat down at the table and picked up his fork, ignoring the burning that he felt from moving his wrists.

                “So, John, tell us about your life at school?” His mom asked, putting on a smile as she sat down.

                “It’s school.” John shrugged, picking at his food. There was a long and uncomfortable silence.