John knew as soon as he stepped in the room. He knew without any doubt. He knew more than he had ever known anything before. He knew that he was in trouble. Big trouble.

As soon as he opened the door to his new room he saw a beautiful creature. He saw a young vampire. The first thing John noticed was dark curls that were in that messy-but-beautiful-anyway fashion. The vampire had the palest skin and the sharpest cheekbones. John's eyes looked up and down the vampire's tall, slender limbs. He was sitting languidly at his desk reading a book.

"Hello? Earth to boy? Hello?" Suddenly, John snapped back to life.

"W-w-what?" John sputtered.

"Finally, I was saying hello. My name is," suddenly his pale lips stopped, he breathed deeply through his nose.

John froze, his eyes snapping shut of their own accord. He knew what happened next. He tensed and braced himself for the inevitable attack. He felt the gush of wind that he was unfortunately used to. He screwed his eyes shut even tighter. It took John several moments before he realized nothing was happening. He opened an eye. The vampire was gone. He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed.

This was weird though. He knew what that boy (or perhaps man) was. All the others of his kind were the same. But this boy didn't attack him. He just left. How could this be? No vampire had ever not attacked him.

John settled into the room, putting his clothes in his closet and his things on his desk. After he had everything neat and tidy, just the way he liked it, he sat awkwardly on his bed wondering what he should do. He'd already gone to the office asking for a new room, but the secretary said that 221B was the last available room. He had desperately begged to be moved to another room. The secretary got angry and told him there was no way he could already need to be moved.

John noticed that his hands were shaking. He frantically tried to make them stop. His breathing suddenly became heavy and erratic. He broke out in sweat and his vision blurred. He was starting to have another panic attack. He shook so bad he slipped off the bed. He curled himself into a fetal position, shaking, sweating and crying.

He was lost in a haze of the past. He saw vampire upon vampire that he had encountered before, to the first one he ever saw to the last one only a month ago. In the haze he saw pale limbs and blood. He cried out as the pain was relived over and over again. He tried shouting "No" and "Help", but no words escaped his lips. He saw a clear image of the face of his new roommate, eyes wide with surprise and worry, and then was lost completely.

John jerked awake suddenly. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and his brain to comprehend where he was. White walls, a curtain around a narrow bed. This must be the nurse's station.

"Hello?" John called out, "Is anyone there?"

A portly woman opened the curtain slightly. She was a cheery looking woman with bright lips and dark hair. She was wearing a nurse uniform and a huge grin.

"Mr. Watson!" she cried, happily, "We're so glad you are awake! We were very worried. Though your mother did say that you have panic attacks, we were still concerned to find you unconscious."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," John said softly.

"No need to be sorry!" she chuckled, "However, if you could, next time you feel one coming on, do try to let someone know, ok dearie?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded politely, "May I go now?"

"Whenever you are ready!" she smiled and disappeared around the curtain.

John careful stood and stretched a bit. He wondered who'd found him. Was it his roommate? John shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. Did he find John laying there defenseless and…? John felt his neck. No bite marks. He felt his wrists. No. He felt his legs. None. He felt his chest. Still none. Perhaps it wasn't his roommate that found him.

He shuddered again at the thought of the pale, dark-headed vampire who was now his new roommate. He sighed, knowing he would eventually have to face him. Sooner or later his thoughts whispered to him. He sighed again and stepped around the curtain. The nurse was on the phone with someone. When she noticed him standing awkwardly she smiled and gestured to the door as if to say "Go ahead and go back to your room." John left quietly, in no hurry.

After walking for a few moments he realized his arms were still wrapped around him. He shakily let them drop. He straightened his posture and held his head up high. He figured he had to be brave, like his dad always taught him.

"Square off those shoulders," his father's voice said firmly in his mind, "You can't let anyone conquer you. Be brave, my son."

John straightened up even taller as he remembered his father telling him this only a month before he died. His steps became steadier, as he walked to what he viewed as his certain doom. he remained physically steady, though his thoughts ran rampant.

Will it be quick? Will he just drain me and be done with it? Or will he just continue to do it? What if I become some sort of pet to him? I wonder if he'll be there waiting for me. Or maybe he'll attack me in my sleep. No. that's not likely. I mean, none of the others have done that. He did seem different than the others though. Less like he was trying to draw me in and more like he wish he could ignore me. Maybe it won't be so bad after all…

John quickly shook that thought out of his mind. No reason to be optimistic in such a situation. He'd better just expect the worst. Very suddenly, John realized he was back to 221B. He took a deep breath and put his hand on the door handle. He let out his breath and slowly opened the door.

Just as he expected, his new roommate was waiting for him, his head bent over a book. The tall vampire didn't make a move except to close his book his book with a snap. His blue eyes searched John, as he stood frozen by the door. It seemed an eternity had passed before either boy said a word.

"John Watson, I presume," the beautiful boy spoke.

"Yes, that would be me," John gently closed the door behind him, "And what would your name be?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes," the boy stood and bowed his head, "It is a pleasure to meet you, John Watson."

"The pleasure is mine, Sherlock Holmes," John replied, trying to remember his manners.

Sherlock took a few steps forward. John forced himself to stay still. The taller boy extended his right hand. John took the shockingly cold hand and shook it, quickly letting go.

"We both know that that isn't true, John," Sherlock stated (rather randomly, in John's opinion).

"Um. What isn't true?" john questioned.

"That you find pleasure in meeting me," Sherlock brushed some of his beautiful hair from his eyes and stared into John's, "You already don't like me. You wish you hadn't moved. You even wish I'd kill you and make it quick."

John just stood there, his jaw hanging down somewhere near his knees.

"That is correct, isn't it?" Sherlock cocked his head to one side.

"Yes," John breathed, unable to sputter out a lie, "But how did you know?"

"I deduced you," Sherlock stated simply.

"Deduced?"

"Yes, that means I figured out what certain things you did, meant," Sherlock's eyes dropped momentarily, "Such as your panic attack. I assume you have PTSD. The events that caused this are related to vampires, yes?"

"Y-yes," stuttered John, in amazement, "That's astounding! How do you do that?"

Sherlock looked taken aback. He easily recomposed himself and simply shrugged his shoulders. He then turned, without any explanation and sat back at his desk. He opened the book he left on the desk and began reading, once again. John stood frozen, still unsure what to make of this vampire or what to do.

"Well, sit down," the vampire said, snappishly.

John scurried to his own desk, which sat beside Sherlock's, and sat down quickly. He waited, silently, perched on his seat. He wondered what the next order would be and waited for it to come from those lovely pale lips.

"What's wrong?" instead came from the lips.

"Huh?" john had confusion written in neon on his face.

"Why are you just sitting there, staring at me?" Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at the strange blonde boy.

"I, uh, was waiting," John cleared his throat, "For you to tell me what to do."

"Why do you need me to tell you what to do?" the book closed with another snap, now that John had Sherlock's undivided attention.

"W-what? I don't," John stammered, a slight dusting of red filling his cheeks, "I just assumed that, well, uh…."

"Oh, I see," Sherlock leaned back, casually, "You think because I am a vampire, I will start ordering you around, making you do things. Such as remove your clothing and bend over the desk, yes?"

John's slight dusting of red became crimson as the sexual implication was uttered from Sherlock. He bowed his head, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well, I suppose I should clear this up then," Sherlock sighed, "I will not order you to do anything. Nor will I attack you. I will not touch you in any sort of inappropriate way. I will not try to charm you in any way. Does this put your mind at ease, John Watson?"

"Uh, not really," John answered honestly, though he wasn't sure why he was being honest with this vampire, "Lots of vampires have said similar things to me, in the past."

"I see," Sherlock put his fingertips together, under his chin, "Well, the only way to convince you is to allow you to see for yourself, as time progresses."

John was uncertain of what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all. He hated how he wasn't sure what to say to his new roommate. His roommate took John's silence to mean that the conversation was through and returned to his book.

John sat there, at his desk, with his head bowed for quite some time. He was waiting quietly for what he felt was the inevitable. He waited for Sherlock to go back on what he had said. After an hour of the silence, Sherlock's book snapped shut once more. John instinctively tensed.

"For bloody sake," Sherlock's voice was raised in annoyance, "Just go to bed already! It's 10 o'clock at night and we have classes tomorrow!"

"Ok," John whispered and scampered off to obey Sherlock's order.

John got into his pajamas and slipped into bed. He lay with his eyes closed, but his mind wide awake. Once again, his brain was filled with questions about his new vampire roommate.

Why didn't he order me to do anything besides to sit and go to bed? Is he playing with my mind? I wonder how long he will drag this out. Does he do this with all his victims? Is he trying to make sure that I'll have strength for whatever it is he is planning? Or maybe he prefers-

"Shut up!" shouted Sherlock.

John jumped and squealed in a very unattractive manner.

"I-I didn't say a-anything," John whimpered.

"You're thinking too loud!" Sherlock cast an agitated look at him, "Just go to sleep for Pete's sake!"

"S-sorry. I-I'll go to sleep now."

John closed his eyes tight and willed himself to sleep. The last thing he remembered, before drifting off, was the sound of an exasperated sigh.