As it Should Be (Johnlock/Teenlock)

Chapter Four

John's P.O.V.

"They call me 'The Freak'." Sherlock spoke with such sincerity I found myself sniggering, not at him, but at the unoriginal nickname the idiots had come up with.

"The Freak..." I trailed off as Sherlock looked at me quizzically, probably because he had taken my sudden outburst of laughter as me joining in with the majority. I explained to him why I was laughing, and he nodded in response before continuing with his oh-so-interesting book.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Sherlock, did I hurt your feelings? By laughing, I mean." I was genuinely concerned until he looked at me, a look of total astonishment on his face.

"I don't feel emotions the way others do, John. I never have." I looked at him, dying to know more about this mysterious man, but even though I'd known him less than an hour, my human instinct could sense that talking time had finished.

For the next hour or so, we resided in slightly less than comfortable silence, before I started to explore around the school. I discovered the colossal sports hall, with it's tall arched roof, cages over the windows lining the base of the ceiling and the top of it. The floor was clean, dry, and professional. After touring the cafeteria, I emerged into the chilly outside air, to find it just getting dark. Limping with my cane back towards my dormitory, I smiled as I entered the warmth of the building. I trudged up the stairs into my new home.

Opening up my suitcase, I unpacked my many clothes into the small chest of drawers at the foot of my bed, taking my toothbrush, hair products, and what I was to wear to bed that night into the bathroom with me, locking the door and setting everything out where it should go, absentmindedly noticing how the only possessions Sherlock seemed to own sanitary-wise, was a chunky electric toothbrush, a plain white towel hanging on the rack, and two small bottles of shampoo and conditioner, before getting changed and dumping my worn clothes into my assigned laundry basket.

I returned into the room to find my roommate in exactly the same position as he was when I left, the only difference being that he'd thrown his legs over the side of the bed, half of him on, his bottom half hanging off, his toes tapping an irregular rhythm on the small rug.

"John, please stop staring at me." I jumped as his voice pierced the otherwise silent room.

I blushed in embarrassment and flopped onto my bed, pulling my laptop out of my suitcase in one fluid motion, except I didn't, because I wasn't Sherlock, so as I proceeded with this dangerous technique, I managed to simultaneously bang my head and bad leg on the wall, and also dropped my laptop in the process. I sighed in pain and mortification as I picked it up and began typing away, soon lost in my research.

I woke up the next morning at seven, due to the persistent ringing of my phone's alarm. My laptop was on the floor and during the night I'd slipped beneath the bedcovers.

I rolled out of bed and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

"Unghhhhhhh." Came my usual noise. Mornings were not my thing. I looked across to where my roommate slept, ran my hand through my hair, and went to the bathroom to get ready. My uniform fitted well, and unlike most, the black jumper was soft and comfortable, as were the black trousers, shirt, and blazer. I had yet to acquire proper school shoes, so I slipped on my black converse and hoped nobody would be looking at my feet. My hair was too much today, so instead of gelling it into a quiff as I usually did, I just left it natural, my fringe falling into my eyes. By the time I had got back from the bathroom, Sherlock was up, dressed and leaning against the wall with his blackberry in his hand, most likely waiting for me to get out of the bathroom. He looked up as I walked past him to collect my things, and I heard the bathroom door shut behind me. Within a minute he was out, and putting various schoolbooks and textbooks into a brown leather bag, which he hung on his shoulder. "We have Biology together first, John!" He called over his shoulder as he strolled out of the room.

If it had been down to me, I'd have waited a little longer before going to class, I needed my tea before I was to do any work. "Uh...Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?"

"When was breakfast?"

"Seven to half past." I checked my watch, it was now ten to eight.

"Damn it!" I stamped my good foot in agitation.

He smirked but gave no verbal response. I would have gone to the kitchens now, just to ask if they were still open, I mean, I still had ten minutes before Biology, but I had no idea where I was going and Sherlock was the beacon that guided me there.

The room was large and rectangular, with a door at either end and tall desks and chairs lining the outsides of the room. The floor was blue-green and laminated, like the kind of floor you might get in a hospital. I sat in the seat next to Sherlock, in the back at the middle. These were obviously the best seats, as you had a clear view of the whiteboard in front.

"Is this why you wanted to come here early?"

"Yes." He confirmed my suspicion with a nod and a small half-smile.

I checked my iPhone: it was still five minutes before class started, so I tapped on the familiar icon and began playing Temple Run.

Sherlock's P.O.V.

Sitting in my usual place, I was slightly astonished that John decided to sit down next to me. He was strong, fairly attractive, with his sandy hair, warm blue eyes, and perfect white smile. He was also a footballer...he had the option to be incredibly popular if he wanted to, isn't that what ordinary people were so obsessed with? He was well aware of my social status; despite this, it seemed that he didn't care much for being 'cool', because as the first people entered the room and stared, he didn't bat an eyelid, even when they made snarky comments about 'making friends with the freak' , or maybe he was just completely oblivious to the lot of them. They were wrong anyway, I didn't have friends, but perhaps John Watson was the closest I'd ever gotten.

(A/N)

Yeah, I know, this chapter was definitely not my best, partly because I'm ill, and partly because I'm tired. For those who want to know, I'm in my bed with a million blankets, three boxes of tissues, a bag of oranges(vitamin C helps apparentlyyyy) and my phone. Yay.

asdfghjkl ew

okay byeeeee<3