Vatican Cameos || BBC Sherlock

Chapter 1: In Which John and Sherlock Encounter an Unexpected Visitor

Quick little author's note before we begin: Idk how tf the foster system works in England. I'm also super American but I'm trying to write this kinda with the vocabulary of someone who lives in Britain (ex. In England French fries are called chips, candy is called sweets & so on). Anyway! So some words Americans might use will be substituted with the British vocabulary for them. It just makes more sense in my head because the characters are using British vocabulary, and if they were saying "chips" but I was writing "French fries" it wouldn't make sense. Sorry if this is confusing lol. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. I hope you enjoy!!

Small TW: There are mentions and depictions of s/h in the following series, as well as some mental disorders (ADHD, Anx!ety, Sch!zophren!a). If this may trigger you I advise you to read with discretion.

       Rain flew down in sheets onto the sidewalk outside the windows of 221B Baker Street. John sat comfortably in his armchair in front of the fire reading a novel by Charles Dickens. It was a peaceful day. In fact, it had been a peaceful week — Sherlock hadn't gotten a very large case in a while. After everything that had happened with Moriarty at the indoor pool a couple months back, John and Sherlock both were still a little shaken. Sherlock had gotten a couple smaller cases every now and then to keep him entertained, but he solved them all in at least a day. Sherlock was very bored to say the least. (And of course that presented its own set of dangers.)
John quite liked not having to run around every day. He had grown tired of the mystery and the gunshots and the death. Sherlock, on the other hand, had not. It was what kept him sane. He loved the thrill of the chase. He loved to prove his intelligence. And he absolutely hated feeling restless. Being idol made his body and mind feel as though it were rotting.

       The flat was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional clinking of Sherlock's beakers. He was busying himself with an experiment to pass the time.

      John sighed and placed a bookmark in the middle of his chapter. He was beginning to grow a bit restless himself, having been sitting down for a couple of hours. Maybe he'd make a cup of tea.

      As John placed his book onto the table beside his chair, he watched raindrops race down the windowpane. They glittered in the dampened sunlight, skittering down one after another until they met the windowsill. Dark clouds blanketed the sky. An occasional roll of thunder shook the earth with its mighty roar, followed by a flash of lightning not long after.

      John sighed again. Just as he was about to get up, the doorbell rang.

      "Mrs. Hudson will get it." Sherlock said without looking up from his microscope.

      "Who is it?" John asked pensively.

      "Dunno." Sherlock shrugged. He seemed unconcerned, which was a good sign, though something nagged at John. He stood up and made his way towards the door to the flat. Muffled chatter was heard as he approached it. It definitely didn't sound like a threat, but it didn't sound like a friend either.

      John stood by the door a moment longer, trying to make out the words being said downstairs. He pressed an ear and a hand to it, though he still couldn't quite hear the conversation. Finally, he opened the door and stepped out. He stepped down the stairs quietly, stopping on the landing in the middle. Near the closed front door was Mrs. Hudson and a strange youth John had never seen before. They both stopped and looked towards John for a moment.

      "Oh, hello John." Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. "I was just about to get you and Sherlock."

      John stepped down the stairs and stood with them. He made worried eye contact with Mrs. Hudson that seemed to ask, "What's going on?" She gave the slightest head nod and said,