Hooked (teenlock)

Chapter Fifteen

"Yes?"

He met my eyes, gulped. "You were crumpled on the floor and it looked like they were about to, you know..." When he read no emotions whatsoever on my face, he sighed and continued. "Kill you, Sherlock. They were about to murder you."

"They're in custody, then?"

"No, Sherlock, we have two murderers running loose in London and the cops are doing nothing about it," he said sarcastically. When I didn't respond, he sighed once again. "Yes, Sherlock. They're taken care of."

Suddenly, I remembered the fact that was ever so important. "John!"

He jumped a bit, as he wasn't quite expecting my sudden boost of energy.

I beamed at him, more proud of myself than I'd like to admit. "The case is closed!"

He shook his head, laughing silently. "I know, Sherlock. I know."

He left soon after to retrieve the nurses and my parents (who were ecstatic to find me in good condition) and my brother (who was not).

To my dismay, my mother and father sat on my bed and cooed for at least an hour and a half. Mycroft had a seat in the corner, dozing off every so often, and John was forced to go wait in the lobby, as the nurses were convinced that I needed some "family time" (which was utter bullshit).

I was sent home just that night, which was very lucky, but I was forced to stay in bed for several days afterwards. I wasn't concerned about the school I was missing or the questions I would be asked upon returning, I was concerned about John- or, honestly, the lack of him in my life.

In fact, it had been almost a week before I could see him through something other than a phone screen. Face-to-face, I met John somewhere new: a park. (The Attendant had seemed like a terrible meeting place after everything that happened in its kitchen, so John figured the park was a much better choice. Besides that, he was very concerned about my "lack of fresh air" and thought I "could use a bit of vitamin D.")

John was racing towards me when I clumsily exited my mother's car. She sped away as he embraced me.

"Sherlock. SherlockSherlockSherlock." His voice was muffled, seeing as he was speaking directly into the fabric of my long coat.

"John," I muttered, pulling away from him so I could have a proper look. He'd hardly changed since the last time I'd seen him (in fact, the only difference was that he hadn't shaved in four days and had the smallest of mustaches coming on) but I was still undeniably pleased to see him.

It was slightly awkward after our embrace, seeing as John simply stared at my face for nearly a minute. At the 43 second mark, I cleared my throat. "How are you, then?"

He nodded, finally pulling his eyes from mine. "Good, good. Lonely." He nodded again, as though he was actually just a walking bobble head. "People have been talking about you. At school, I mean."

We began to walk. "They always talk about me, John. I'm a brilliant little freak to them." I sounded far more bitter than I'd expected.

"No, no. Other things now. Good things." He paused. "Sherlock, you're a hero."

I laughed. "No, John. I'm not."

"You saved me."

"You're all that matters."

John stopped walking, forcing me to stop as well. "Why do you say that?"

There was a duck pond six feet away from us, but the ducks had flown south months ago. In fact, it was nearly a surprise that the pond hadn't frozen over completely. The cold bit at me, so I centered my attention on the warmth of John's gaze.

I shrugged. "I suppose I say it because it's true."

He shook his head, completely unbelieving. "It's not true." When he noticed my questioning look, he proceeded. "Sherlock, it's not true because you matter too."

I laughed. "Just us, then?"

John was smiling as well, a beautiful smile. He moved closer to me. "Only us."

I couldn't help myself. I took hold of his face, his soft cheeks and pink ears and his everything. I pulled him up, made him fill those six inches of space that divided us in height. I brought John Watson to my face, drew him into my body and my existence itself, and I kissed that boy like there was no bloody tomorrow.

When I pulled away, my whole world was dark eyes and blonde hair and John Watson.

"Just the two of us, John," I muttered. "Just the two of us against the rest of the world.

the end.