Johnlock Oneshots

Pocket!John (Request)

There was an older woman who lived in the apartment too. John almost died the day she saw him. He recalled the animal-like screech she let out when she saw him, and he held his hands in the air, as in the surrender. She stared at him for a few seconds and then calmed.

He begged her to not tell the man about him. He was afraid of him, terrified of him. The man was loud and tall. Very tall. He's never seen anyone so tall.

"Oh, Sherlock?"She asked and he nodded, "He's all bark and no bite. Harmless."

He still didn't trust her. He's seen Sherlock tear the small apartment to shreds out of impulse. He also had this small black L-shaped thing that made noise whenever he pointed it at the wall. It would leave holes in the wall too.

John was afraid it one day would put one big hole in him.

She still promised to keep him a secret, but repeatedly told him that Sherlock would find him one day. John now knew that today was that day.

He hadn't bothered to hide anymore. John knew that if there was trouble, he could always run out the door since 'Sherlock' always kept it open for a weird reason.

John made his way into the living room and walked over the sofa. Sherlock was still conscious, wasn't asleep, but John knew he couldn't hear him. He had watched Sherlock many times for afar as he was in this state, he was like this a lot. This is how John would get around without getting caught when Sherlock was home.

John decided to put himself onto the table. He started reading the newspaper which was spread open on the table. His love for the larger people made him want to learn how to read, so he did. He, of course, spoke the same language as Sherlock, since his kind learned their language from these large humans.

John read through things that mentioned new openings of buildings, random people criticizing the people who ruled the big people, and lastly murder cases. John skimmed through it, and the man named Sherlock was named multiple times in the paragraph. There was even a picture of him blocking his face in a group photo with some slightly smaller large people.

John sucked in a breath as he heard rustling behind him. He didn't want to move, no, he couldn't move.

-

I had finally gotten an answer, not from myself, oddly. It was right there in front of me. A man. A very small man. It had a tiny knitted sweater and tiny jeans on. It had been facing away from me, and he tensed up when I pulled myself up from the couch.

"I found you...You're the one who-"I began, and then he turned around.

He had a nervous and shameful look on his small face. He was completely identical to a human, except for his size. There was nothing 'feral' like about him. He looked like a man I could see walking down the street and not spare a second glance or deduction.

"..has been stealing all your food? Yes..."It answered, I squinted at him, and then tried to poke at him with my hand, "Wait. Don't!"

"Don't what? I'm simply curious.."I continued and poked him in the head. He whimpered quietly.

"I've seen the things you've done... I don't want end up like...the wall."He craned his head up and I joined him, looking at the various holes in the wall.

"That's tedious. There no point of shooting you when you've done nothing wrong."I explained, I can see why I was a threat, but I felt slightly guilty about the look on his face.

-

"What do you mean by...that?"John asked, and took a step back. John thought about how odd the man was, it fascinated him.

"I only drink tea on special occasions and you clean up my experiments when I don't want to."He explained, John scrunched his face in confusion.

"Well...Mrs.Hudson, the lady you live with helps me sometimes when she's not tired, and she'll help me with other things too."

"I knew she was lying to me...Do you plan on staying?"The man asked.

"Um...I don't think-"

"You're perfectly safe here. I'd love to have a companion. It's lonely here in this apartment."He smiled, John felt uncomfortable

"Um...Sure-" John answered, but not before Sherlock pushed himself off the couch and into the kitchen

"I have an idea."He stated from the other room, John waited patiently on the table.

He came back with a box.

"A box? What are you going to with a box?"John asked. Sherlock did not answer.

He put it on the mantle of the fireplace, near one of John's many strings that helped him get down and up the furniture. He cut a hole in the box with...John didn't know what it was, but it was sharp.

"Perfect."He rushed back to the kitchen, a glass dish broke and he cursed. He ran back with...all John's items.

"Hey! Put those-"

He opened the top of the box and peered in. He placed them in strategically, it took him a few minutes before he turned around and smiled at John.

It took John a couple of seconds before he realized that this was his new home.

John allowed Sherlock to pick him up, of course not before grumbling about how he was picking him up by his collar and choking him. He carried John in his palm and set him on the mantle.

John had his own front door. He opened it and his bed sat in the corner, his chair in the opposite.

"Of course we'll need to fix it up. Decorations and a nicer bed. Buts it good for now..."Sherlock beamed.

"Good? It's probably the best place I've ever had for just living in a bunch of cupboards for twenty years!"John exclaimed, rushing around the box.

"What are you?"He asked, it was at random, but it was a good question if John was going to be his new roommate.

"I don't really know. My community never really gave us a name. We just knew what others were called..."John answered.

"Well..do you have a name?"Sherlock asked, John, perked up.

"Yes! My name is John...Watson!"He exclaimed, he hadn't told people his name in a long time. They didn't seem to care.

"Well then, I guess you're a John...Watson until further notice..."Sherlock replied.

-

I love having a flatmate now. I would carry him around the city in the collar of my coat and show him the sights. He loved it. I would bring him to crime scenes and he would tell me how old the person was and how long it had been dead.

I already knew all that, but when I saw his face light up Everytime he told me, my heart fluttered. It was nice having a John. He had gotten bored one day and read any of my medical books from college, and had remembered how to deduce all these things.

No one had cared like that at all before about me.

John loved my violin music too and begged me to play for him when he couldn't sleep. I would bring him down onto the table and would play any song he requested. He didn't know a lot, but his favorite was always the generic songs you would always hear when you listened to classical music. But, I didn't care. As long as he was happy.

-

Hope you enjoyed this request. It's something I've never really done before, but I really enjoyed trying to make up a culture for John's little species. I would love to do a Pocket! Sherlock too, and probably will.