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ONE
It all started when John first met Sherlock. It was an unusual meeting, most childhood friends meet going to the same schools or attending the same afterschool care if their parents work long hours. Perhaps at a park, or an organised sport. But that would be normal and John and Sherlock are anything but, so the boys meet for the first time in a hospital.
Through a series of coincidences, Sherlock and John were placed in the same children's ward recovering from appendicitis. In fact, they’d been right after the other in surgery and had technically met a couple of hours before in recovery, but they’d both been too groggy from surgery to remember.
The first time John met Sherlock (and was able to remember) was when the younger boy fell out of his bed and managed to knock over his food tray. The almost deafening clatter, crash and scream of pain woke John from his drug induced snooze.
“Master Holmes!” One of the nurses cried as she rushed into their shared alcove on the ward. “What on earth were you thinking, goodness!”
“Owwww!” The little curly headed boy cried out when the Nurse picked him up and placed him back on the bed.
“Now then, let’s have a look at your stitches. If you’re lucky, young man that fall won’t have ripped them.”
“That hurts!” The boy cried again and tried to shove at the Nurse.
“Of course it does! Alright, everything looks okay, now don’t be getting out of this bed Master Holmes. I know you don’t wanna be here, I’m sure a young boy like you would rather be outside. But if you keep moving so much you’ll only make your stay in hospital longer. Better to rest now and be home sooner, aye?”
The boy grumbled something John couldn’t make out.
“I’m sorry. Your Mother did call, lad. Said she and your Dad are flying back on Monday, it was the earliest flight they could get. Your brother will be here tomorrow with some clothes for you.” The Nurse fluffed the boy's pillows, tucked him back into bed and swept out of the room.
John waited a moment before trying to sit up, a spike of pain shot up from his tummy. Owch. That had hurt, he can’t imagine how bad it would have been to fall to the floor.
“Hello, my name’s John.” John said to the boy. “What’s your name?”
The other boy ignored John’s question. “Why aren’t your parents here?”
“Oh, hmm. My Da is on tour with the army. Mum’s probably working.” John shrugged. “She’ll be here soon.”
The boy huffed and then, very, very slowly turned over to face away from John in his bed. John watched him, his eyelids getting heavy until he slipped back into sleep.
The next thing John remembers is his Mum and sister coming into the ward to see him. They fussed over him and brought him some pyjamas, Mum spoke to his doctors. His appendix had apparently burst during lunch break at school. John had been playing ball with his friends and suddenly collapsed. The school had called an ambulance and he’d had emergency surgery.
John asked his Mum to stay overnight with him, he wouldn’t admit it but he was scared and didn’t want to be alone in the dark. But his Mum had to work in the morning and had to take care of Harriet. “You’ll be fine, sweetheart.” She said with a smile as she was leaving, kissing his head goodbye.
After a few hours of watching TV on the little screen mounted up on the ceiling, another nurse came in to turn down their lights and tuck them in. John snuggled down further into bed and tried to be brave. He still hurt, even with the painkillers they were giving him. Moving hurt even more than staying still and it was hard to get comfortable laying on his back when usually he slept on his stomach.
“Are you awake?” A quiet voice asked.
“Yeah.”
“My names William. But I hate it. I wish Mummy had picked a different name because everyone calls me Bill and I hate that even more.”
John moved and turned to look over at the other bed. William was sitting up his arms wrapped around his legs. “What happened to you?” John asked.
“Same as you. Appendix was infected.” William shrugged then looked down at his feet. “I-I usually sleep with my dog. Redbeard, but…”
John nodded, “I’m scared too. I wish Mum stayed.”
“I don’t like hospitals.” William’s whole body gave a violent shiver. “I hate them. I hate doctors and nurses and people in white coats.”
“They’re just trying to help.” That’s what John’s Mum always told him, so he supposed it must be true. William shivered again. “You could sleep with me?” John offered and started to wriggle over to one side of the bed, slowly and careful to avoid hurting himself.
“Really?” William hesitated.
“Yeah, we’re both scared so we can keep each other safe. Come on.”
William moved too quickly and hissed in pain for a moment before more slowly making his way over to John’s bed and climbing in. The two boys giggled a bit as they got comfortable but settled in quickly and in no time they were both fast asleep.
TWO
After spending a week in hospital, sharing a bed at night the two boys became good friends. Their parents exchanged phone numbers and on weekends the boys would have sleepovers. John decided that the matching scars on their tummies meant that they’d be friends forever.
William was from a wealthy family, while John came from the working class. This meant that there were a few hiccups initially when they boys first started having sleepovers. John’s Mum had a small moment of panic when Mr and Mrs Holmes turned up to drop William off and an honest-to-god butler brought in Williams overnight bag from their car. Which was then driven out of their driveway later by the same butler, Williams parents waving goodbye happily from the rear window.
John got lost three times walking around Williams house. It was huge, at least three times as big as John’s house. It took John a while to understand why William’s parent were never around, after meeting them at the hospital and when William slept over that first time John hadn’t seen them again. Even when he stayed at their house. Mycroft, Williams brother was always around, their Nanny and Butler but Mr and Mrs Holmes were always travelling.
The two boys were laying on Williams bed talking late into the night when William suddenly became quiet. John thought he must have fallen asleep and was trying to get his brain to quiet down and do the same when he heard a sniffle.
“William?” John asked. “Are you crying?”
William gave a huge sniff, “No.”
John rolled over and rubbed his friend's arm, “It’s okay. What made you sad?”
“I think there is something wrong with me.” William whispered through tears. “Mummy keeps taking me to Doctors and they do all these tests and frown at me and... and… I’m scared.”
John frowned, “I think you’re cool. You’re really smart, and you have fun ideas for experiments. I like playing with you, and I don’t think you’re sick. I haven’t seen you cough or get a fever.”
William sighed, “Not that kind of sick John.”
“Oh.” John kept rubbing Williams' arm, it always made him feel better when his Mum did that. Maybe it would help?
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being my friend.”
“Anytime.”
THREE
When William is eleven years old his parents send him away to a boarding school. This means that the boys can no longer have their weekend sleepovers and have to wait for school holidays to play together. John’s Mum suggests writing letters to each other, which William thinks is a fantastic idea and so John receives huge ten-page letters every few days which detail Williams daily life and routines at boarding school.
It makes John feel like he’s there at school with his best friend. It’s also how John finds out about the bullying. William had always been a little odd when he ate dinner the different types of food weren’t allowed to touch. He had to brush his teeth at 7:30am and 7:30am exactly every day. He seemed to always be getting in trouble at school for blurting out the answers to questions when he hadn’t been called on by the teacher. His bedroom was always very neat and he had a sock index. Which John was not allowed to touch, under any circumstances. Ever.
Williams little quirks (as John’s Mother called them) seemed to only get worse as the bullying went on at his new school. John showed the letters to his Mother but it didn’t seem to help. John wished he went to the same school as William so he could protect him.
During one sleepover over the holidays, William informed John that he’d decided to be called Sherlock. Because his full name was: William Sherlock Scott Holmes. John had always known since the first time they’d met that he hated his first name and so after a few fumbling stuttering mistakes John settled into calling his friend by his preferred name, Sherlock.
John and Sherlock built a pillow fort in the middle of John’s bedroom and informed John’s sister, Harriet that girls are not allowed. Harriet cries and tells their Mum that the boys are being mean to her. John’s Mum quickly informs them that they’re to play together or not at all.
That night Harriet decides that she wants to be called Harry. After all, if Sherlock can change his name. Why can’t she?
As John and Sherlock are laying in bed together, playfully kicking each other's legs and tickling each their sides Sherlock tells John a secret. “The doctors say I’m a sociopath. That’s why I do weird things, why I can’t keep my mouth shut, it’s why I don’t have any friends.”
“I’m your friend.” John says and hugs Sherlock to him. “There isn’t anything wrong with you Sherlock. I don’t care what the doctors say, you’re the smartest person I know.”
FOUR
The month before John graduated from Secondary School they are visited by a woman from the Army who talks to John’s Mum in the kitchen alone for a long time. Eventually, both Harry and John are called into the room and are quietly told that their father has passed away. John’s Dad had been the driver of a leading vehicle convoy and had passed over an IED which had obliterated their truck and killed everyone on board.
In all of John’s graduations photos, nobody is smiling.
John’s life changes for the worse from that moment. His Mum takes to drinking and gambling and soon their family's savings are depleted. John is accepted into one of London’s best Universities, but without the money to pay for his medical degree, John turns down the offer and instead takes a part-time job to help his Mum pay the rent.
When Harry moves out, John is left trying to put his Mum back together. He tries for almost two years before an explosive argument breaks out and John goes to stay with Sherlock for a few days. Sherlock is accepted at Oxford and starts a double degree in Chemistry and Criminology. While attending Oxford, Sherlock meets Victor Trevor his first boyfriend.
John only has to meet Victor once before he knows how much of a bad influence on Sherlock he is. After dinner with the boyfriend, John sneaks into Sherlock’s room, slips into his bed and tells Sherlock to leave him.
“I don’t want you to get dragged into this drugs stuff, Sherlock. It’s bad news. It’ll ruin your life. Please.”
“John. I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were, I just… Victor seems like a nice guy, but he runs with the wrong crowd yeah?”
“Victor likes me, John. No one likes me.”
“I like you, remember? You’re my best friend.”
“I know.”
FIVE
It’s not long after that that Sherlock and John’s long friendship comes to an end. Sherlock ignores John’s advice, pleading and begging to leave Victor. Even after Sherlock turns up at John’s flat in the middle of the night high, vomiting and covered in bruises. John lets Sherlock sleep at his place for a week, and goes to pay Victor a visit and breaks his nose.
When Sherlock finds out he moves back in with Victor.
John decides to follow in his Father's footsteps and join the army, a bonus is that the defence force will pay for his medical degree. John’s excited to be back on track to fulfil his dream of becoming a surgeon.
After John tells Sherlock he’s joined the Army, he doesn’t talk to John for three months.
The night before John is due to leave for basic training he gets a phone call.
“Mr Watson?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“My apologies for calling you so late, you are listed as the emergency contact for a Mr Sherlock Holmes. He has been admitted to Bart’s hospital this afternoon with several injuries. He-”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay.”
When John makes it to A&E Sherlock is already bandaged up and ready to be sent home. The nurse informs John that Sherlock has a concussion and that he needs to be monitored at home. Sherlock goes home with John, to his almost completely empty flat.
“You’re leaving.” Sherlock says the moment John opens the door.
“Yes, tomorrow afternoon is my flight.”
“Oh. I’ll be sure to change my emergency contact to Mycroft then.”
“Did Victor do this to you?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions, John.”
John sighs and helps his best friend into his bed and climbs in beside him. He sets an alarm to go off in two hours, so he can check on Sherlock. The two men stare at the ceiling in silence together. “You deserve better.” John mutters, “Victor is garbage.”
“I know.” Sherlock sniffs. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” John reaches out and holds Sherlock’s hand under the covers.
“Will you promise me something, John?” Sherlock asks.
“Anything, as long as it is within my power to do so. I’d do anything for you, Sherlock. You know that.”
“Yes, I know. Promise you won’t die.” Sherlock turns on his side and wraps his arms around John, snuggling into his side. John wraps his arms around Sherlock and squeezes him back.
“I can’t promise that, but I can promise to try.” John rubs his cheek over the top of Sherlock's head. “Will you promise me something in return?”
“Yes.”
“Forget Victor. He’s no good for you. Don’t think I didn’t see the marks on your arms. I’m not as observant as you, genius but I’m training to be a doctor. Promise me you’ll get clean and you’ll finish your degree. Go back to Oxford. For me. Please.”
Sherlock nods and then he’s crying. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Shhh, Sherlock it’s okay. I forgive you, you’ve nothing to apologise for. I’ll always be your friend. I’m here for you, always. Promise. I-I…” John takes a deep breath. “I love you.”
Sherlock shivers and pulls John even tighter against him. “I love you too, always have. I wanted you. But you… You never seemed to want me back.”
“Oh, Sherlock… You started dating Victor before I realised how much you mean to me. I didn’t want. I never want to hurt you. It doesn’t matter. We both know now. We can start again.”
Sherlock shakes his head, “No, you’re going away. I-I-I can’t John. We can’t.”
John kisses Sherlock's forehead, “Okay. Okay.”
“I’m not ready. I want to be better, I want to be clean and you deserve better from me John. We’re not a good match right now.” Sherlock sniffs.
“Okay.” It’s all John can say. He knows Sherlock is right. Their paths are going in opposite directions. John is leaving the country tomorrow and Sherlock is high or coming down from a high. He’s been beaten up and treated like shit by Victor. They’re both not ready. But, maybe… Maybe they will be. Someday.
PLUS ONE
We found him - M
Is he okay? - SH
He’s alive - M
He kept his promise then - SH
Sherlock meets up with his brother at the hospital where they have transferred John from Afghanistan. Mycroft says nothing and just hands him John’s medical file. Sherlock takes a few deep breaths then looks through the Doctors notes. He’s always, always hated hospitals especially with how much time he spend in one during his childhood. Misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis. Sociopath indeed, Sherlock thinks with disdain.
The only good part about hospitals is John.
Gunshot, left shoulder, missed main artery, chipped clavicle, bullet removed from scapula, fractured scapula, internal bleeding, infection, fever.
It’s not a good diagnosis, but it’s also not as bad as Sherlock had originally thought it would be. Sherlock hands the file back to his brother and steps into John’s private room. He’s going to owe Mycroft several favours after this.
John is lying in bed, tubes and wires and other things Sherlock had no idea about connected to his face, arms and chest. Several machines hum, beep and flash different colours. Sherlock swallows but the lump in his throat doesn’t move. He’s alive. Sherlock thinks on repeat. He’s okay. Without a care about what the nurses or doctors will think when they find him, Sherlock climbs into the bed with John, curls himself around his best friend and cries himself to sleep.
Sherlock is woken up by a finger poking him repeatedly. He frowns and buries his head into John’s warmth, he doesn’t want to wake up yet. He’s comfortable and warm and he can smell John even with the strong scent of hospital everywhere.
The poking doesn’t stop and then the flicking starts. Sherlock groans and opens his eyes. John is awake, he’s the one who's been poking and flicking at his face.
“John!” Sherlock gasps and sits up, John groans at the sudden movement and clutches at Sherlock’s side tightly. “Oh! Sorry, sorrysorrysorry!” Sherlock mutters and moves more slowly, eventually sitting up so he can look at John more easily.
John smiles at him, “Wat..er?” his voice comes out as a faded growl and Sherlock quickly reaches for the pitcher of water on the table nearby and helps John to take a few slow sips from a plastic cup. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” Sherlock says with a small shrug.
John just looks at Sherlock for a long time before he speaks. “This isn’t how I envisioned us meeting up again.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry Sherlock.” John reaches up with his good arm, the one that had been wrapped around Sherlock’s waist and rubs at his eyes. They’re watering, John might be crying but Sherlock has never seen him cry before.
“For what?”
“I broke my promise.”
Sherlock is crying now too, when did that happen? He shakes his head, John is being silly. He’s not dead. He’s alive, here with Sherlock. “No.”
“I almost did.” John sniffs, “God, I-I thought I’d never see you again. Thought I’d never get the chance to-”
Sherlock leans over the bed and presses his lips to John’s. He can’t believe he’s taken almost his entire life to kiss John. Why? Why had he never done this before? He’d almost lost him. John is kissing him back, it’s wonderful and soft and warm and Sherlock never wants it to end.
John’s hand is in his hair, he’s pulling and grasping and tugging. “I love you.” John gasps out between kisses, his breath, his words are hot against Sherlock’s lips. “I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you. You kept your promise. I love you.” Sherlock breaths back. John’s kisses taste like salt. “Move in with me?”
John laughs, “Oh god yes.”
The End.