Chapter Text
John double-checked the address on his phone before looking around. The place wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. It looked more like a row of flats had been converted into one large building than it did a school. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the large sign stating ‘Mrs. Hudson’s School for Special Needs,’ John would have assumed he was in the wrong place.
Shrugging, John put his phone away and strode up to the door labeled 221, pressing the buzzer. It was opened a few minutes later and he was escorted to the office in what was clearly once a sitting room. John could see minor signs of walls being both added and removed during renovation.
The dean was a middle-aged woman with short curly blond hair that smiled warmly when John was ushered in.
“Hello, dear. You must be one of our new volunteers,” she stated.
“Yes, ma’am. My name is John Watson and I’ll be here for 3 weeks.”
“It’s nice to meet you, John. I’m the dean but you can just call me Mrs. Hudson. The paperwork I got from Saint Bart’s Prep School for Boys indicated that you would be over here every day. I do hope that it won’t affect your studies.”
“Oh, no ma’am,” John assured with a smile. “My school does a volunteer program as part of our grade every year. And they always lighten coursework at this time to avoid overwhelming anybody.”
“That’s a relief. It’s great to help others but one mustn’t neglect themself in the process,” Mrs. Hudson said. “Now, why don’t I show you where you’ll be helping out.”
She ushered him out of the office and down the hall, John noting where passage had been cut to allow travel between once separate buildings. He idly wondered what it had cost to do the renovation.
A few of the rooms they passed had their doors open and John glanced in curiously. Each class seemed to have a different focus and set up. Some were for kids overcoming physical disabilities, with support bars and exercise equipment everywhere. A couple were more like normal classes; the students sitting at desks while the teacher did their lessons either entirely visually or entirely auditorily.
“And here we are,” Mrs. Hudson said as she opened a door and stepped inside.
John was reminded of a nursery as he looked around. The walls were painted a pale blue and there were no sharp corners anywhere. Everything looked soft and pillows were thrown on the floor in every direction. There were only 5 students but there were 4 teachers. One of them came over and introduced himself, giving John a warm smile.
“Welcome to the class, John. I’m Mr. Gregson and you’ll be working with me and Sherlock over there.”
He gestured over to a corner of the room where a young boy was sitting. He looked about John’s age but was far skinnier, long legs tucked up under him. All of his attention was focused on a Rubik’s Cube in his hands. One side had already been solved.
“Sherlock has autism and is non-verbal,” Mr. Gregson said. “That means he can’t talk. He won’t make eye contact either. Try not to make loud noises, it upsets him. And definitely don’t try to take his puzzles away from him.”
John nodded as they walked over to the other boy, who didn’t even glance up as they approached. His entire focus was on the cube. It was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Gregson stopped a few feet from the boy and crouched down. “Sherlock,” he said in a soft voice. “This is John. He’s going to be with us for a few weeks.”
A very slight tilt of the head was the only response Sherlock gave. John wasn’t entirely sure that he even was responding and not just thinking about the puzzle.
“Ok, in about 10 minutes, we take the kids to the yard out back so they can get some exercise,” Gregson told John as he stood back up. “Most of them just run around or play catch. Sherlock prefers the little climbing structure we have. I’ll need you to keep a close eye on him while we’re out there. He’ll jump back down and try to run off if the others get too loud for him.”
“What should I do if he runs off?” John asked.
“I usually grab him by the shoulders and turn him around. You’re a stranger to him through so he might panic. If that happens, call for me and I’ll be right over.”
John nodded, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. The other boy was so slender that he was half afraid he’d break at the first slightly rough touch from the more rugged blond. He also wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to defend himself when he had to keep from injuring his opponent. Better to avoid that kind of confrontation altogether.
Gregson explained the rest of the day’s schedule before introducing him to the other teachers. Then it was time to gather up the students and take them outside. Another class joined them so that there were a little over a dozen kids running around the parking lot turned playground.
John soon realized why Sherlock preferred the climbing structure. It was less to do with enjoying the climbing and more to do with keeping away from the other kids. For as soon as they started running around, laughing and yelling, Sherlock flinched and took a step backwards. He then quickly headed to the foam-covered pile of stairs, platforms, and rope ladders. He scrambled up to the highest platform and tucked himself into a corner, knees pulled up to his chest.
John followed behind him and sat on the lowest set of stairs. He watched as some of the kids started what looked to be kickball merged with dodgeball. A few called over to him, inviting him to join the game. He just gave them a smile and a shake of his head. The game looked fun, but he was there to work.
Just then, John heard a faint whimper. He turned and looked up to see Sherlock had curled into a tight ball. His face was hidden in his knees, but John could see the way his eyes were clenched shut. His hands were also pressed tight against his ears to try to block out the noise. All in all, he looked miserable.
Remembering what Mr. Gregson had said about Sherlock running off, John figured he had better try to calm him down a bit. He climbed up to the platform, going slow to avoid spooking the brunette. Even though the ground surrounding the structure was covered in thick foam, falling onto it would still hurt.
“Hi there. Sherlock, right? Mind if I join you?” John said softly as he settled down. “It’s pretty loud over there, huh? Much more peaceful up here. I can see why you like it.”
If John hadn’t been looking, he would never have noticed the way Sherlock’s head tilted the tiniest bit at the sound of his voice. Figuring that it was a good sign, he decided to keep talking. As long as Sherlock was focused on him, he wouldn’t freak out about the noise. Hopefully.
“I’m John. It’s nice to meet you, Sherlock. Mr. Gregson said you liked puzzles. My mom likes puzzles too. She’ll get these thousand piece jigsaw puzzles and spend a month putting them together. One time, she got one where the pieces were the size of my thumbnail. The box got knocked over onto the floor and the cat thought it was its new litter box. Mom was not happy.”
John blinked and looked up at the sound of a quiet snort. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A corner of Sherlock’s mouth was turned up in a small smile. He had also relaxed from his previous tightly curled position, and while he wasn’t looking at John, he had shifted to be facing him more.
John smiled happily and kept chatting, talking about anything that came to mind. Nothing really important or that required a response, but funny stories about himself and his friends and family. Though one wouldn’t think it just by looking, he was certain Sherlock was paying close attention. He found himself grinning broadly when one of his stories got a tiny giggle out of the silent boy.
Eventually recess was over and the teachers began gathering the kids up. Sherlock climbed down when Mr. Gregson called for him, John following close behind. Gregson gave Sherlock a pat on the shoulder as they went inside. He didn’t seem to notice.
“So, did you have any trouble over there, John?” Gregson asked.
“No, sir. He did get a little distressed at the noise,” John admitted. “But I was able to distract him by telling stories.”
“You must be pretty good at telling stories. He normally doesn’t like sitting still for them,” Gregson said thoughtfully.
John just shrugged in response, wondering why he found himself wanting to keep the fact he got Sherlock to laugh to himself. He had a feeling Sherlock didn’t laugh all that often.
When they got back to the classroom, the three of them settled down at a small table. Gregson pulled out a stack of flashcards and had Sherlock match them. John was surprised to see that they weren’t simple words with pictures, but the kind of words that would be in his own vocabulary studies and no pictures at all. Sherlock was matching the words to their synonyms.
“Everyone’s shocked at first,” Gregson chuckled, noting John’s expression. “A lot of people seem to think that any kind of mental handicap must mean the person is stupid. Especially if they can’t talk. But it’s not true at all. In particular, I’m sure Sherlock would be in college already if he were able to process things normally.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” John said as he watched the other boy continue to match up words.
“Indeed. The trick is to present the information in a way that he’s able to absorb. For Sherlock, it’s puzzles. He holds onto it better when he can figure out the connection himself rather than just being told. And he enjoys it more as well.”
John nodded in understanding, looking over at Sherlock as he finished matching the flashcards and sat back. There was a faint smile on his face when Mr. Gregson told him he had done a good job. The cards were then replaced with a set of math puzzles that the slender boy took to with gusto.
The next couple of hours passed by in similar fashion, Sherlock quietly working on various puzzles as John watched. The blonde found himself intrigued by the intense expression on the other boy. He wondered what it would be like to have that same expres-
‘Stop that!’ he told himself firmly. ‘You’re here to work, not to hook up with the students! And he can’t agree to anything anyway!’
John gave himself a mental shake, frowning a bit. He hated when he got distracted from a task, especially when it was by his own thoughts. He gave himself another reminder that he was there to work and turned his attention back to the puzzles.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The sudden scream made both John and Mr. Gregson jump, John spinning around on instinct to see what the problem was. One of the students was throwing a tantrum and on the floor kicking and screaming. The teacher was trying to calm him down but wasn’t having any luck. Mr. Gregson hurried over to help.
John began to relax, figuring the satiation was under control, before remembering what he had been told earlier. Spinning back around, he bit back a curse when he saw the chair across from him was empty and the classroom door was wide open. Sherlock had bolted.
The blond ran out into the hall in hopes of seeing where the brunette had fled to. The sight of the empty hallway made him curse under his breath and he went back inside to tell Mr. Gregson what happened.
The teacher scowled and the pair quickly went to find Sherlock, going in opposite directions down the hall. John hoped that Sherlock had just tucked himself into a quiet closet or something. He didn’t want to think about what could happen if he got outside and off school grounds. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if something happened.
“Sherlock!” John called out, trying to keep his voice at a volume that could be clearly heard but not so loud to spook the other boy. “Sherlock, can you hear me? You need to come out, please.”
John doubted that Sherlock would simply come out when called, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. He checked each door he passed, only ignoring occupied classrooms. Finally a door that was partially ajar caught his eye.
“There you are,” John sighed in relief as he pulled the door fully open and spotted Sherlock curled up in the corner.
The closet that Sherlock had holed up in was filled with various instruments and John realized they were right next to the music room. The blond wondered why he would hide somewhere with the potential to be very loud. Then he realized that he could hear strands of violin music floating through the air. And Sherlock seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes were closed, his shoulders relaxed, and one hand was tapping his knee to the tempo.
“You like music, hm?” John smiled. “It does sound nice. But we’d better get back to the classroom. Mr. Gregson will be worried.”
John crouched down and gently gripped the brunette’s elbow. Blue eyes opened as he was pulled to his feet, but Sherlock made no move to pull away. Instead he let himself be steered out of the closet and back down to the class.
“Oh good, you found him,” Gregson said with relief.
“He was hiding in the closet next to the music room,” John said.
“That doesn’t surprise me. Sherlock likes music, especially classical. He’ll sit in the music room and just listen for hours. Once I spotted him imitate the movements of Ms. Jackson, the music teacher, as she was playing a violin solo.”
John chuckled. “I’ve heard of air guitar before, but air violin is a new one.”
Mr. Gregson smiled. “Indeed. Well, the day is pretty much over anyway. I’m going to help gather up the other students. You take Sherlock down to the front entrance and wait for me there. I’ll be with you shortly.”
John nodded in understanding. Sherlock went over to a cubby and grabbed a black backpack. He then stood by the door and waited while John got his own bag.
Seeing the other classes letting out as well, John took a gentle but form hold of Sherlock’s arm. The other boy was already tense and he moved a little closer to John as they walked down the hall. His free arm clutched his backpack to his chest as though using it as a shield. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hide in that closet again, listening to soft music in the air, rather than be surrounded on all sides by noisy students.
“It’s ok, Sherlock,” John said soothingly. “I know there’re a lot of people here, but I promise you’ll be ok. Just hold onto me and we’ll be outside before you know it.”
John continued to talk to Sherlock as they headed outside, hoping to distract him from the crowd a little. He told him how impressed he was at the puzzle-solving. Some of them had looked quite difficult, yet the slender boy had gone through them with ease. Sherlock certainly seemed to enjoy the praise if the smile on his face was any indication.
Mr. Gregson caught up with the boys not long after they stepped outside. He steered Sherlock over to a fancy black car waiting nearby. John gave them a wave good-bye as the brunette got into the car. He then turned to head home himself, missing the pale blue eyes that rose to gaze directly at him. Eyes that stayed locked on him until he was out of sight.