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London
Sherlock Holmes had grown up watching people wish on stars in movies and television; all of their problems miraculously solved by one simple wish. People found true love; people became real boys; freed from oppression and pain. Given their 'happily ever afters'. So why did it not work for little Sherlock Holmes, who wanted nothing more than a friend? Everyone Sherlock knew had at least one friend - even Mycroft had someone called Graham - so it couldn't be a difficult wish to fulfil if everyone else had someone to call their friend. But why did Sherlock's one wish never come true? Every single night, the little seven year old boy sat by his window and wished on whichever star he saw first, convinced the trick to the magic lay in the phrase 'first star I see tonight', and every morning he woke up completely alone.
"Please, Star, help me. I wish for a friend," Sherlock begged, his voice weak and defenceless. He sat on his windowsill, face pressed against the cold glass of the window; eye throbbing where Anderson had punched him earlier. From his reflection, Sherlock could see a purple bruise beginning to form around his left eye in such a bright shade that Sherlock would be able to hide it from his mother, but the pain was worth it if it meant his star would hear him tonight. With a quiet sigh, the desperate Holmes child pushed himself off the windowsill and crawled into bed, pressing his face into the pillow while he clutched a small dog shaped teddy to his chest, falling asleep as his tears soaked into the pillow through. He would have to change that tomorrow before anyone noticed that he had been crying. Mycroft would surely tease him mercilessly while his mother tried to extract all of the information she could.
"Please," Sherlock whispered, almost broken as he begged the star to save him from the pain of having to go to school alone once again the next day.
The Sky
John had never been wished on before. In his eternity as a star, John had never once been wished on. He wasn't famous enough to be part of a constellation or given a name that was known by all humans, and he wasn't bright enough to be the first star to shine through at the beginning of each night; because of that, John had never received a wish. Until tonight.
"Please, Star, help me. I wish for a friend."
The thoughts had entered his head so easily that John didn't even realise they were there until it ended. A wish! John had been wished on!
He didn't even hesitate in accepting. It would mean saying goodbye to the sky forever, and it would mean staying by someone's side for the rest of their lives, both succumbing to their deaths at the same time. Once a star accepted a wish, they were never allowed to return to the sky again; they became mortal - or as close to moral as a star could get - and had to stay by the side of their Wisher until they passed on. And yet John didn't think twice about saying yes to his Wisher, resigning himself to a normal life.
There were no goodbyes for John as there were when other stars had fallen, mostly because he didn't see the need in announcing it. His purpose was to make one person happy, not to gloat in front of the stars who were not allowed to accept a wish or hadn't been wished on before either. So John simply fell.
Within seconds, John was submerged in a terrifying blackness, something so unknown to him since he had spent his whole life surrounded by blinding light. Now, he saw nothing. He saw nothing; he felt nothing. After what felt like a lifetime, John felt his limbs becoming solid, a presence rather than a trick of the light that made him seem like he had appendage; and one voice echoed in his head while he fell.
"Please, Star, help me. I wish for a friend." Over and over again until John had memorised the voice. An image appeared in his mind, a small child with curly brown hair and eyes like an ocean, begging for his help. And John was going to do everything he could to do just that.
He was vaguely aware of his body changing, becoming more childlike so he could blend in with his new friend, but the spirals and glow on his body would still be there when he woke up, that much he knew. Despite his age and the eternity he had lived in the sky, John wold appear to all as nothing but a small child, perfectly able to be friend with... With who?
"Sherlock Holmes," a voice told him, as if answering John's question.
What an interesting name. Would he be an interesting boy? It didn't matter to John. No matter what happened, he would stay as Sherlock's friend until the end of time. It was his one purpose, the one reason he was living, and John was happy to make that his life. The only life he would ever live.
London
The first thing Sherlock was aware of when he woke was that he wasn't alone.
The second thing was that it wasn't Mycroft sitting on the edge of his bed like a minder.
The third was that the stranger was his age and was, strangely, glowing.
As shocked as he was, Sherlock didn't want to alert his parents, or worse, Mycroft, to the situation in his room. Silently, he sat up, eyeing the glowing stranger sceptically. He had no explanation other that it just had to have had something to do with the wish he made the night before. Had his wish come true? After so many years of making wishes that never amounted to anything, what made this time so special?
The glowing stranger hadn't stopped smiling since Sherlock had woken up, nor had he stopped watching the Holmes boy, and it was a little disconcerting. But even Sherlock was aware that he had to say something, lest this get even stranger.
"Hello," Sherlock began carefully, crossing his legs underneath him and pulling his blanket across his lap so he had some protection against the young boy. "I'm Sherlock."
The stranger's smile grew even wider and he nodded, pointing a shining finger at Sherlock. "Yes! Sherlock Holmes! I'm John. You wished on me!" he beamed, brightness illuminating the room for a moment before John somehow managed to pull it back and control it a little.
Sherlock's alarm grew a little as he feared his parents might see the light under his door, but no one came running and the strange, glowing 'John' had managed to dim the light considerably from before. "I wished on you?" Sherlock asked, trying not to jump to a conclusion that couldn't possibly be true, could it? This had to be a dream, surely.
John nodded again, pouncing on the bed and pulling himself a little closer to Sherlock. "You're my Wisher! I'm your Star. We're best friends now. You wanted a friend, and I came all the way from the sky," John pointed at the roof and then frowned, turning around until he saw a slither of sky through the curtains and pointed there, "to be your friend! To make you happy."
-
In the days that followed, Sherlock had learned a lot about John. To everyone else, he looked like a normal seven year old boy; only Sherlock could see the way his skin shimmered and sparkled when he was happy. He had also learned that John was older than the earth and Sherlock was the first person to have ever wished on him. Most surprisingly, Sherlock had learned that John was to be with him until he died, which, to such a young child, seemed like forever away. And Sherlock desperately wanted to spend forever with his first friend!
Even though they had only known each other for a few days, they had played pranks on Mycroft; formed a secret, best friend handshake; and successfully hidden the extraterrestrial friend in Sherlock's walk in wardrobe. And Sherlock had never been happier. John's skin glowed even brighter when Sherlock was happy, and that made Sherlock smile more. It was a never ending circle of happiness.
Sherlock's best friend was perfect in every way. He knew jokes and he was smart enough for Sherlock to have a proper conversation with and he was, most of all, only Sherlock's friend.
At school, no one dared come near Sherlock like they used to. Whenever John felt Sherlock growing nervous or scared, his skin glowed fiercely and he scowled at the culprit across the playground. Once, John had been punched Anderson for punching Sherlock. It was safe to say, Sherlock wasn't in danger of being hurt by anyone anymore.
Everyone had noticed the change in Sherlock's mood; he was happier now that he had found a friend, and he was more talkative than he had ever been. Sherlock wasn't scared of being smart anymore, because John was smart too and he encouraged Sherlock to help him learn more.
It was the perfect friendship.
London - 30 years later
John had grown up alongside Sherlock, never once letting him be alone. His appearance had changed despite his age staying the same, and his glow had never faded. There were times when it was dimmed, but it had never once stopped burning. Times when Sherlock was sad or hurt were the worst for John's sparkle, but they always managed to pick it up and make it better.
Currently, they were living in an apartment in London, above an adorable old lady who had taken such a liking to John that she likened herself to an adopted mother. John didn't mind, and Sherlock was just happy that his best friend was able to have some semblance of a normal family.
John also worked part time at a surgery while Sherlock worked alongside the police force, helping them to solve crimes with John's assistance. They were the perfect team; nothing could tear them apart and no one wanted to. No one wanted to see Sherlock as sad as he was when he was a child ever again.
They were the perfect team, and also the perfect couple.
It had happened some time in university. They had been together over ten years when they moved into the same university dorm room, sharing absolutely everything with each other. Sherlock didn't really know when the change had taken place, but one day they had simply moved from being best friends to being partners.
John had said they were soul mates, and Sherlock had told John that he was ridiculous. Then they had kissed, and Sherlock knew that he could never be without that sparkle again. The kiss had left tiny flecks of gold dust on Sherlock's lips, and he was so happy that he was glowing too.
Sherlock had been promised a best friend, someone to spend his whole life with who would make him happier than anyone else in the world, and he had been given so, so much more than that.
Sherlock's dreams had come true.