Chapter 24
Wrong accusations
The weeks went by after Sherlock was accused of cheating. People whispered behind his back, rumour spread and dirty looks came his way but soon all that ceased as exams approached. People were concentrating on studying and their results rather than concerning themselves with what the freak did. John's first exam came around. Biology. An especially critical one.
"I think I did pretty well on that exam," John frowned slightly, blue eyes flashing to the tall boy beside him. He looked as calm as ever. Damn, how did he do that?! They'd just come out of an incredibly important exam. If John didn't get an A then he was stuffed when it came to university. But of course his companion was the wonderful Sherlock Holmes. He found things like this easy.
"You'll have done fine," Sherlock smiled slightly, walking slower than normal. In no rush to get back to their room. "You're smarter than most." Wait, did Sherlock just compliment him? Sherlock never offered praise. To anyone. Especially when it involved calling them smart. Then again, John guessed that he hasn't really. He was comparing his intelligence to other people who, in Sherlock's opinion, were all idiots.
"Thanks, I guess," John glanced up at his friend with a bright smile. "You're getting better at being nice."
"I am? I'd better change that," Sherlock chuckled lightly before pausing. "Wait, I need to go to our Chemistry classroom." He glanced at John, eyes asking what he would not put into words.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but I have to go study," John shrugged slightly. Sherlock sighed.
"Fine, see you later." Sherlock glanced around to check that no one was in sight before leaning into to quickly peck John on the lips. John blushed slightly, shifting on his feet.
"Yeh. Don't blow anything up."
"I won't!" Sherlock called back as he walked away, his laughter music to John's ears. John smirked slightly before continuing on his way back to his rooms. The door was slightly ajar, which raised suspicions, so he entered quickly.
"What is going on?" Lestrade and Sally were crowded together, chatting rather hurriedly. Why on earth were they in his room?! Without permission. Standing on Sherlock's side of the room. Right beside his coat (which he had not been allowed to wear into the exam).
"Well," Lestrade began with a deep frown, worry creasing his forehead. "I came back to my room to find that my phone was missing. Anderson called it and the ringtone sounded from in here. It was in Sherlock's pocket, John."
"What?!" Shock flashed across John's face. How? Someone had framed Sherlock. That much was obvious and you didn't have to be a genius to work it out. "But Sherlock has been with me the whole day. He is not a thief."
"I'm afraid that's what it looks like, John," Lestrade looked sympathetic. He had grown quite... Fond of Sherlock. Friendly. If that was even possible. "Anderson has already gone to get Mrs Hudson."
"How do we know he didn't steal all the items," Sally sneered, dark eyes narrowed. "Then found them just to make himself feel clever." John gritted his teeth, trying to keep his anger in control.
“That is certainly not the case,” John practically growled, sitting abruptly at his desk. If he stayed on his feet any longer he was going to beat up Sally. He just knew it. First accusing Sherlock of cheating... now suggesting that he had done all the stealing just so he would look good. It disgusted him.
The door open abruptly and John expected Anderson and Mrs Hudson to walk in, the accusations instantly flying. But no, it was worse. Far worse. Anderson, Mrs Hudson and Mr Hunter walked in. Mr Hunter, the headmaster. Oh brilliant. So obviously everyone now believed Sherlock was a thief.
“What happened?” Mr Hunter seemed to be addressing Lestrade.
“I could not find my phone after my exam, Anderson phoned it and we found it in Sherlock’s coat pocket,” Lestrade’s answer was short and concise. Mr Hunter nodded, eyes narrowed.
“Will someone please go and collect Mr Holmes?”
“I’ll go,” John instantly offered, standing again. Still trying to calm himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. At least he could warn Sherlock. Tell him what had happened and all that. So his friend could be prepared.
“I do not think that would be the best idea, Mr Watson,” Mr Hunter spoke rather coldly. John scowled slightly, slumping back into his chair. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
“I will go,” Lestrade offered, heading to the door at Mr Hunter’s nod. Then he was gone to collect Sherlock. He obviously knew were the boy was. Who didn’t? It was obvious. The Chemistry classroom, where he often was in his free time.
A rather tense silence hung over the room. Mrs Hudson left when Mr Hunter whispered something to her. The Headmaster himself stayed standing at the door, eyes folded and face stern. Anderson wore his trademark smirk and Sally appeared to be trying not to smile. Well they had both got what they wanted. John hoped that they were happy. Because no one else was.
Sherlock entered the room before Lestrade, gaze sweeping around the people within. John could tell that his brain was quickly summing up the situation. Working out what had gone on. John just hoped he didn’t say anything stupid. Be... himself. Because that would not help in anyway.
“What did I do?” Sherlock’s voice was so icy that John nearly shivered.
“Mr Lestrade’s phone was found in the pocket of your jacket,” Mr Hunter was facing Sherlock in a scrutinizing manner. John didn’t understand how this was happening. Sherlock had been framed. Couldn’t everyone see that?
“Really? Because I did not steal it. I have been with John all day.” At that John nodded.
“He’s lying!” Sally put in, Anderson sneering. “He can’t deny that he stole it. He was caught red handed with it in his pocket. He probably stole the other items as well. Then found them so he could get all the credit.”
Mr Hunter nodded. “We will continue this discussion in my office. All of you will come.” Why had Mr Hunter came to their room, then, if just to get them all to his office? John was a bit confused. Something wasn’t right here.
“No, I don’t think so. I have no wish to visit your office.” How was Sherlock remaining so calm? John was beginning to panic. “I do not want to talk to the police. Yes, I know about the police. It is quite obvious that you called them and you wish to have me, well all of us, in your office so they can interview us when they arrive. Because what Sally said rings true with your own doubts. You believe that I stole all the items. There’s more. You think that I murdered Tom as well.” John frowned, eyes widening. What?! No, they couldn’t seriously think Sherlock was a murderer. Because he wasn’t. He wouldn’t. Anyway he had been with John the whole time.
“What you say is correct, Mr Holmes,” Mr Hunter replied. “Now, come with me to my office. All of you. And it is not an option but an order. You will come to my office.”
“No, you cannot make me.” Sherlock could be goddamn stubborn when he wanted to. And that side of him was showing now. John shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t like this at all. The police? They were coming to interview them all so Sherlock could be accused of thievery. Possibly murder. To what end? Who was behind this? Because someone had to be. And when John found them he was going to beat the crap out of them. Maybe even kill them.
“As you wish,” Mr Hunter seemed to have given up. That was strange. “Mr Anderson, Mr Lestrade, Miss Donovan, come with me. Mr Watson, stay here with Mr Holmes. If either of you leave this room then the consequences will be severe.” With that only John and Sherlock were only left in the room.
How had this all happened so suddenly?