The Soldier and The Freak

Suspicions

1.

Kristen seemed to fall back into her normal cheery self after they'd watched Alice in Wonderland together. The only difference that she wanted to be around him even more than usual and introduced herself as "John's girlfriend " and John as "My boyfriend." You could say she was more enthusiastic than before, it could even be seen as a little...possessive. John quickly decided that it was a lot better than having her mad at him, and happily obliged to holding her hand and listening to her chatter. Sherlock kept his distance when she was around, which was probably wise as John was sure he had saw her glaring at the genuis a few times. About three days after the meeting of Kristen's family, she and her parents travelled away for the weekend to visit some kind of convention her father was interested in. Unsurprisingly, less than an hour after she had given a long emotional goodbye, Sherlock was at his house enquiring about his "important documentation." John had smirked and stepped to the side to let Sherlock in, telling him he could come over without leaving his book here.

"John, I have no idea what you're referring to," Sherlock replied, walking close enough to John that their shoulders brushed. John felt himself shiver at the contact

"Of course not Sherly," John teased, opening his door and letting Sherlock inside before closing it softly behind them.

"John please. Now where is it?"

John was amused, pursing his lips, "Can't you see it?"

Sherlock's eyebrows climbed his forehead, "Can you not produce it?"

"Of course, but you're usually so good at that type of thing."

Sherlock's lips turned to a thin line, "I am."

"Well then find it," John indicated to his a waiting room with a gesture of his hand and perched on the edge of his neatly made bed.

Sherlock entwined his fingers together and stretched them out in front of him until they clicked, "Very well."

Two hours later Sherlock was checking under his bed for the fifth time while John finished the next chapter of his book.

"Do you want me to tell you where it is yet?" John sighed, stretching his arms above his head.

"No," Sherlock grumbled, distracted by a slight coffee stain on the carpet, he bent down and put his finger against the stain as though making measurements.

"I don't think the perimeter of an old coffee stain will lead you to a notebook…"

"Shut up John, you know nothing about deduction."
John smirked, quietly enjoying watching Sherlock's frustration grow as he folded his legs under him and rested his head in his left hand. Sherlock in the current moment was completely out of the shell he usually encases himself in, John made a mental note to ask him to do things like this more often. Not only was it highly entertaining, he felt like it was doing Sherlock a lot of good.

"What are you looking for?" John enquired.

"Everything," Sherlock replied, taking a minute to look at John, deadly serious.

John's smirk fell from his face and faded into the carpet below.

"Why can't I find it?" Sherlock grumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead, "What is wrong with you? Wake up, wake up, wake up."

"Hey...It's fine," John frowned, getting up from the bed but hesitating in front of it.

"No, no it's not "fine"," Sherlock looked up and glassy eyes and John frowned, taking a step forward and placing a hand awkwardly on Sherlock's shoulder. His stomach dropped at the contact.

"It's just a notebook, I'll get it…."

"No, it's not the notebook it's the fact that I can't find it. I always find it, I'm a genius. I see everything John, everything that's going on in this room. Everytime I look at you it's just a huge wave of information and it's so tiring, John," Sherlock gasped in a breath and clamped his hand over his mouth.

John swallowed heavily, he'd never seen Sherlock look so small and fragile. He suddenly noticed the bags under his eyes and the tremble in his lip, "Just...sit down okay?"

"No, I should go-"

"Don't," John shook his head, "Please?"

Sherlock watched John for a long thirty seconds before he sat precariously on the edge of the bed and stared longingly at his shoes.

John sat a little distance away from him, feeling completely at loss of what to do, "Do you...want to sleep?"

"I can't. I haven't slept properly for months."

"Why?"

"My head is always so busy, too loud," Sherlock pressed both his palms against either side of his head as though he was trying to squeeze the noise out of his head.

John chewed his lip, "Maybe you should…."

"Should what?" Sherlock looked up with narrow eyes and John understood it was a very touchy subject.

"...go to a doctor?" John mumbled quietly.

"And be locked up in a mental ward? No thank you John."

"I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"I know," Sherlock sighed and dragged his hand through his messy curls. He cleared his throat, "So where is this mysterious hiding place of the documentation then?"

John rubbed the back of his neck and stood up, moving over to his shelf and pushing some books aside.

"Oh...I can't find it. I put it right here," John frowned, checking a few more places where it could have fallen, "I don't get it."

Sherlock was suddenly up from the bed, his shoulders stiff, "You've lost it?" He exclaimed, his voice shaking slightly.

"No I...I don't know."

"If I couldn't find it, it's definitely not in this room. Could you have moved it?"

"No, I haven't touched it since I put it up here."

Sherlock was still, "Someone's taken it," he swooped around and walked out of John's bedroom and started glancing around the rest of the house, a panic in his eyes.

"No one even goes in there, apart from my Mum and...well Kristen but she wouldn't...would she?"

"I have to go."

John frowned, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose it."

"It's not your fault," Sherlock gave him a rare smile before turning on his heel and leaving the house.

John let out a long sigh and went to find his Mum.

2.

"Are you still friends with that...that Sherlock guy?"

"Of course. He's my best friend."

Kristen made a nose of distaste and wound spaghetti around her fork.

"Why don't you like him?" John frowned, picking toppings of his pizza.

"He's just so…."

"So what?"

"Obsessed with you."

John's eyebrows rose on his forehead and he licked some tomato sauce from his lip, "What are you talking about?"

He and Kristen had started going on dates to lots of different restaurants around the area, Kirsten insisted it was the only way to find a place where they could then go to on all their special occasions. This particular Italian restaurant resulted in an hour bus ride and wondering around in the rain lost for a short amount of time. John was pretty sure that it was worth it for the ambiance and food, they sat in the dimmed fussy light that made him feel hazy and calm.

"You can't be serious, you must see it!" Kristen exclaimed, pouting her lip.

John shook his head, "It must just be you Kizzy."

She opened her mouth to protest but her phone rang and she immediately went tense, fumbling in her bag desperately to find it and jumping to her feet to answer it outside.

John watched her put if the window as she spoke hurriedly into her mobile, nodding furiously and waving her arm in the air. He frowned in confusion, watching her glossy lips in an attempt to read what she could be talking about so urgently. He definitely saw his name, but that didn't him worry too much. The person at the other end was likely to ask her where she was or who she was with at the time. Unfortunately for John his lip reading skills were extremely limited unlike Sherlock, and he was therefore unable to make out anymore definite words. He broke the crust of his pizza into little pieces with his fingers while he waited for her return and wondered what she could be speaking so passionately about.

It took at least five minutes before the conversation seemed to come to an end. She returned with red cheeks and damp hair, sitting down heavily in her seat and taking a sip of lemonade.

"Is...is everything okay?" John asked as she picked up her fork and started stabbing her pasta like nothing had happened.

"It's fine John," she replied in a smooth and quiet voice.

John shuddered at the tone and scratched the back of his neck, "Okay."

"As I was saying, I really think you need to consider getting rid of Sherlock. You'd be a lot better without him."

They finished their now cold meals in silence and John decided that they probably wouldn't come back to this particular restaurant.

They remained quiet on the way home as well, Kristen only leaning down to kiss John's cheek and whisper goodnight at her door before she left without looking back. On the way home his phone buzzed repeatedly until he stopped to wiggle it out of his tight pocket.

8 unread messages from Sherlock:

Hi

Hello

John

Jooooohn

Any news?

...on the notebook I mean

Obviously

John don't ignore me

John couldn't suppress the grin off his face at the messages, walking slowly in the rain as he tapped out his reply:

Hey Sherly, I wasn't ignoring you! No I haven't seen it or heard of it, I'm on my way home now from Kristen's.

Sherlock was waiting outside of John's front door when he returned home. At first he was a little all alarmed by the dark figure waiting in the shadows, but he soon recognized it's profile.

"John," he nodded as he followed him through the front door.

It was late, past ten o'clock but John lead Sherlock to his room and unbuttoned his jeans, throwing himself down on his bed, "How have you been sleeping?"

Sherlock shrugged in reply and perched on the edge of the bed, still in his large black coat with the collar turned up.

"Still...busy in there?" John asked, tapping his own head with two fingers.

Sherlock nodded.

"Take off your coat, relax," John suggested, a little nervous about what his friends reaction would be.

To his surprise Sherlock stood up and shrugged off his coat, laying it over the back of Johns desk chair. He walked back to the bed and lay down beside John, the size of the bed made the space a little cramped but John forced himself to relax. It was nice.

"How was your date?"

John's eyebrows pulled together, was Sherlock attempting small talk, "I was...good."

"I'm glad," Sherlock replied. John glanced at him and saw his eyes were closed.

"What did you do today?" John asked, lowering the volume of his voice.

"Solved a few murders on the news, a few experiments," Sherlock yawned.

John chatted quietly about mundane things in a low voice, watching in delight as Sherlock's breathing evened out and small dozing snores began to leave his lips. He shifted as slowly as possible so not to disturb his friend until he was comfortable, and fell asleep to the sound of breathing beside him.

It wouldn't be wrong to say that John's mother was surprised when her son left his bedroom that morning in the clothes he was wearing yesterday, and with his friend trailing behind him and rubbing his eyes. However she cleared her throat and quickly planted a smile on her face.

"Good morning John and...er Sherlock."

"Morning'" John yawned and slumped down on the couch as usual. Sherlock perched beside him, as always he looked as though he were about to leave any second.

"I didn't realise Sherlock was here," She pushed slightly.

"Oh, hmm, sorry," John realised, "He came over late last night and we ended up falling asleep."

"Right."

John's clothes were disheveled and the top button of his jeans were undone from the night before, his hair was a mess around his face and he had a series of red marks along his neck which had been made by the itchy fabric of his sweater as he'd rested against it in his sleep. Of course that's not how his mother saw it.

"Would...you two like some breakfast?" She blushed and stood up, heading towards the kitchen.

"Yes please," John replied, completely clueless to his mother's deduction.

"I should go soon," Sherlock said softly.

John turned and saw the brightness in his eyes, he looked a lot healthier after a good night's sleep, "Where?"

Sherlock shrugged, "Staying in one place means you miss other things."

John paused, the only nose the sound of his mother clattering in the kitchen, "Can I come?"

Sherlock shook his head immediately, "I do better alone."

John's shoulders slumped, "Okay," his voice swimming in disappointment.

John's mum put a plate of toast and orange juice down in front of them, and sat in the armchair across from the two boys, "How was last night?" she asked, "...I mean the date!"

John frowned, "What else would you mean?"

"N-Nothing," his mother blushed red and fiddled with the sleeve of her jacket.

"It was good," John replied, watching her cautiously.

She then got up and began cleaning the house, pretending not to pay any attention to their conversation. Although like usual, the conversation between the two was very limited and as soon as the food was gone Sherlock got to his feet and gave his thanks.

"I really must be off."

John stood up too, deciding if Sherlock could sleep in his bed he could give him a hug goodbye. The genius looked surprised but didn't push John away, awkwardly patting him on the back for a second before the older let go.

"Don't be a stranger."

"What?" Sherlock frowned, pausing as he walked towards the door.

John smirked, "It means don't forget to call or text or whatever."

"Interesting," Sherlock mused, before he left.

A/n: Sorry this took a while to write I have uni stuff to sort out, if you're interested for more let me know. Thank you for reading.