4. I'm nobody, John.

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They kept talking for several hours. Sherlock told John how miserable his life was.The only thing that kept him straight in his life was his deceased dog Redbeard. He beamed while talking about his adventures with Redbeard; meanwhile, a tear appeared and slid down onto his cheekbone. John didn't know how to comfort this mysterious young man. He knew that Sherlock was a good person; people just needed to know him better. John wanted and would protect Sherlock from Anderson. He was studying for a doctorate for a reason-to help and protect people against threats.

John stood up and laid his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, squeezing it slightly in reassurance before he headed back to his kettle. Sherlock looked up and smiled softly at him. John prepared two cups with tea and handed one to Sherlock.

"Thanks." Sherlock said quietly.

"You're welcome." John said as he padded back to his bed and sat down on it. He took a sip of his tea and looked at his watch. He glanced at Sherlock. "We have dinner in a couple minutes," John informed.

Sherlock looked up briefly from his cup. "Not hungry," he said absently.

John frowned "At the sight of your empty tray at lunch, you didn't eat." He paused. "Food is important..." Sherlock cut off.

"I ate a banana, John. You didn't deduce well." John rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I'm not the smartass here," he teased; Sherlock chuckled.

John stood up and grabbed something out of his satchel. "At least you can keep me company," he said as he grabbed his wallet. Sherlock sighed.

"I don't want to be in another confrontation with Anderson. Also, I don't want to get you in trouble," he said mildly.

"I'm here you know, and what do you mean?" John asked confused.

"People hate me. They always did and they always will. I'm a weirdo, a freak. I'm shocked that you want to sleep in the same room with me; that you are listening to what I'm saying right now. I don't want to get you in any trouble, John. People might turn their back on you if they see you speaking with me..." He trailed off and sighed.

"I need real friends. If they turn their back because I'm talking to my dorm mate then that's silly; and stop saying you are a freak-you are not okay-and by the way, Molly Hooper wanted me to introduce her to you. Not everyone is that foolish like Anderson."

"Molly?"

John nodded amused. "Yes, a girl, probably interested in you."

"Nah," he said coolly.

"You have a girlfriend then?" John asked curiously.

"Girlfriend? No, not really my area," Sherlock said as and took another sip from the half cold cup of tea. John nodded; a moment passed before he realized the possible significance of the statement.

"Oh, right. Do you have a boyfriend then?" Sherlock looked at him sharply. "Which is fine, by the way," John said awkwardly.

"John, you are the first person who ever talked to me, of course not." He stood up. "Let's get you food then. If Anderson comes to us, just insult me and scream or whatever looks like you hate me." He waved a hand dismissively. "And I will disappear to my room." Sherlock added as he walked to the door. John rushed in front of him and stopped Sherlock by reaching out his arm, hand on Sherlock's chest. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Sherlock, I want to be your friend. I don't care what other people think." Sherlock blushed, looking everywhere except John's eyes.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Good," John cleared.

They entered the canteen. Both were sitting at an empty table. Seems like everyone was avoiding to sit with Sherlock and John, but John didn't care in the slightest. Sherlock wasn't eating, like he said, but to John's surprise, Sherlock was drinking soup.

"Soup then," John sniggered.

Sherlock shrugged. "It would be uncomfortable for you to eat alone."

"That's nice," John said as he bites from his sandwich with jam.

"Well, well. Who do we have here? Couple of the year," Anderson smirked meanly.

"For god's sake, Anderson, leave us alone." John spat out.

Anderson laughed. "Ah come on, John. Don't tell me you really want to spend time with this freak?" Anderson said in annoyance, looking sharply at Sherlock. John stood up and grabbed Sherlock's arm.

"Let's go, Sherlock," he mumbled. Sherlock got to his feet and got pushed back down by Anderson. Sherlock growled.

"Ah, you are leaving already?" Anderson snapped with his face close to Sherlock's. Sherlock was ignoring him. John walked around Sherlock, standing in front of Anderson.

"Anderson. Damn, you are eighteen years old. You will not get far in your life if you keep acting like this." John pushed him aside and tapped Sherlock's shoulder, giving a signal to stand up.

"At least a better life than that loser there," Anderson screamed.

They hurried out of the canteen. John looked over his shoulder to check if Anderson was following them, but there was luckily no sign of him. He glanced at Sherlock. "You okay?" He asked warmly.

"Yes." he said timidly, turning. "John, your food, go, I'm fine." John chuckled.

"No way, I have enough food in my room." He winked. They were strolling back to their room.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.

"My mom always gives a stock of food. She is worried that school isn't giving us enough healthy food. So yeah," John shrugged.

Big credits for Miss Lib93 for helping me with editing this chapter.

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