I Don't Want To Believe

An Alien's Idea of Fun

    "But your family obviously doesn't want me, what use am I here?" Sherlock muttered.
"They don't know you. I mean, sure, you're a bit overwhelming at first, but I know you, and they'll come to love you as much as I do." John decided.
"Is that the weird human expression or do you..." Sherlock asked, trailing his sentence in a sort of hopefulness.
"It's an expression." John assured. Sherlock nodded, looking almost disappointed, and John just laughed. "You want to go back and finish your soup?" John asked.
"No, let's stay up here. I like it here, it's very earthly." Sherlock decided, walking over and falling onto his back on John's bed, staring up at the ceiling with a smile.
"Of course it's earthly, this is earth." John pointed out. "I really missed earth."
"I know, and I would've felt bad if I had to keep you hostage any longer." Sherlock agreed, sitting up against the headboard and curling into a little ball. John was lingering over by his desk, poking around at his unfinished homework and wondering if he could get an alien abduction excuse. Probably not, for all they know, he just skipped school for a good week or two, just for the fun of it. His grades were probably all failing.
"What am I even going to do about school?" John wondered.
"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.
"I mean, I have to go, but then I'd leave you here, and you can't go, and even though all of this happened I still need to have a normal life, I mean I still have to make a living even though I'm an abductee." John pointed out.
"Of course you do." Sherlock agreed. "So you go to school, and when you get back, we'll be here."
"What if I come back and you're not?" John asked.
"You mean if they took us?" Sherlock asked. John nodded solemnly, trying not to picture his grief if he found Sherlock's body and the baby's shattered tube scattered on the kitchen floor.
"Well, that means that they didn't get you, and no matter how much I suffer, it would be worth it." Sherlock decided. John just smiled shyly, looking out his window to the corn field.
"Why do you care so much about me? Why are you so determined to keep me safe?" John asked. Sherlock just laughed, as if it were obvious.
"You really don't know?" he asked. John shook his head, and Sherlock was getting rather red in the face. "John, when I tell you I would die for you, it's...."
"John, Sherlock!" Harry came running into the room with excitement, cutting off whatever Sherlock was going to say. John sighed, looking over at Sherlock who was looking rather disappointed. Obviously he was just about to declare his feelings, why did they always seem to be interrupted?
"What is it Harry?" John asked. Harry held up her box of action figures and Barbies proudly, scrambling on the bed next to Sherlock and dumping them all over John's bed.
"You better clean that up." John warned.
"I thought since you're an alien, you'll know all about how aliens live and fight each other." Harry decided.
"Why would we want to fight each other?" Sherlock asked, when in reality he just got over from an extraterrestrial dog fight.
"Well, all sorts of things. You don't have any wars on your planet?" Harry asked.
"Fighting your own species is kind of a human thing." Sherlock shrugged.
"Says the guy who..." John started, but saw Harry's curious look, "Got real creative with a steak knife."
"And I shall be executed for that, it is not the normal thing to do on our planet. It is about survival, reproduction, and population, not murder." Sherlock pointed out.
"Did you kill someone?" Harry wondered. Sherlock just laughed, shaking his head.
"Of course not Harry, of course not." He lied. Harry didn't look convinced, but handed him one of the blonde Barbie dolls, which he took rather reluctantly.
"Are you really going to burn our house down?" she asked again. Sherlock looked up at John rather awkwardly, who shook his head violently to make sure Harry didn't feel threatened.
"No, of course I'm not going to do that. I was just trying to intimidate your father; it works a lot, especially when you already have fear on your side." Sherlock assured.
"That's good. I didn't think you were going to kill us, but it's better to make sure. Now, your name is going to be...Chelsey, and I'm going to be Scarlet. John, come here, you can be Brianna." Harry decided, throwing a brunet Barbie over to John, who reluctantly walked over and picked it up off of the floor.
"And this is Cyborg, this is King Spaceman, and this is Gloppy." Harry insisted, pulling all of her aliens from under the folds of the bedspread.
"We don't look like that, and we have normal names." Sherlock pointed out.
"Well then, this can be Sherlock." She decided, holding up a rather ugly looking green alien.
"Looks just like him." John laughed. Sherlock just sighed, holding his Chelsey doll as if it were some sort of diseased rag.
"How do I play?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, you just make them move around and talk to each other. Scarlet currently loves Cyborg, but King Spaceman won't allow it. If you want, Sherlock can be in love with Briana." Harry offered.
"I don't think Briana's really his type." Sherlock decided, eyeing the doll in disgust.
"Alright, then who do you want him to be in love with?" Harry asked.
"Why does he have to be in love?" Sherlock asked.
"Because when you're his age, you have to be in love, everyone is. John's in love with someone, right John?" Harry asked. John just raised his eyebrows, not really liking the spotlight, especially since Sherlock was just about to declare his love to John, not Briana.
"Most certainly not." John insisted, even though that might soon change.
"Well, Sherlock, you're in love with someone." Harry decided. Sherlock just laughed, casting a nervous glance at John before nodding slowly.
"I might be." He agreed. John turned an entirely new shade of scarlet, and not the doll, the color.
"Alright then, but right now, you're in love with Briana." Harry decided. Sherlock just sighed in defeat, but nodded.
"Whatever you say." He sighed. So they played whatever Harry was calling it, something called Barbie Space Adventure, but John really didn't want to address anything with such a horrible name. Sherlock turned out to be extremely good at it, he made the doll move very human like, using an extremely girly voice when talking, and making Harry nearly fall out of the bed laughing with the simplest things. John could only shake the doll to make sure everyone knew it was talking, and got yelled at by both of his companions when he used his regular masculine voice. Sherlock seemed very entertained, Harry more so, but John could only count the seconds until he got to escape and go to dinner. Finally someone knocked gently on the door, opening it without waiting for a response.
"What are you kids doing?" Mrs. Watson asked.
"I'm not a child." Sherlock decided, combing his Barbie's hair with a complementary plastic comb. John hummed in sarcastic agreement.
"Well, as much fun as that looks, dinner's ready, all are welcome." She decided, giving Sherlock a rather reluctant look.
"Thanks mom." John agreed, throwing his Barbie on the bed and scrambling off. Sherlock took his time, helping Harry collect all of the toys, now all strewn out since Harry liked to throw them around to imitate the vacuum of space.
"That was fun." Sherlock decided.
"When we're done with dinner, we can have a tea party!" Harry exclaimed.
"What is a tea party?" Sherlock muttered to John. John just laughed, shaking his head in amusement.
"I'm sure you'll find out." he assured. The three of them made their way down the stairs, Harry staying very close to Sherlock as if he were going to run away if she wasn't two inches away. Mr. Watson was seated very sternly at the head of the table, reading the newspaper very highly over his face so that he didn't have to look at the alien coming down his stairs. John tried his best to ignore his rude father, but Sherlock didn't seem to see any problem. In fact, he chose the seat right next to Mr. Watson, as if that were somehow a good idea.
"Sherlock, why don't you sit in the middle here, so you can be between Harry and I?" John decided.
"Okay." Sherlock agreed, scooting over a chair. John thankfully sat between Sherlock and his father, happy to be the mediator in case any fights broke out over dinner. Harry sat down on the other side of Sherlock, no surprise really, and kicked her feet excitedly.
"So, John, are you going to go to school tomorrow?" Mrs. Watson asked, coming over with a large pot of what looked like stew.
"I assume I have to, I mean, I'm probably weeks behind, but I have to show up." John decided.
"And what is Sherlock going to do when you're gone?" she asked, setting the stew in the middle of the table and taking off her rooster shaped oven mitts.
"I'll stay here, help around the house. You'll find I'm a very good helper." Sherlock decided with a very enthusiastic smile.
"Well, I'm sure that's true, but both my husband and I work throughout the day, and I'm not sure how comfortable I am with you alone in the house." She insisted.
"I won't touch anything, I promise." Sherlock assured. Mrs. Watson looked nervously at the newspaper that was her husband, obviously not comfortable with that idea.
"I'll figure something out." she decided.
"I could always go to school with John." Sherlock offered.
"No, that is not happening." John insisted.
"Why not?" Sherlock asked, sounding rather offended.
"It's just not." John insisted. Sherlock nodded slowly, obviously not liking that answer. When they all got situated with stew in their bowls and milk in their glasses Mrs. Watson sat down, looking over at Sherlock as if wanting to start a conversation but too scared.
"So, Sherlock how was your planet?" she asked. Sherlock just laughed.
"Horrible, of course. Earth is much nicer, a lot safer. The people are a lot friendlier." Sherlock decided. Mr. Watson made an odd growling sound, but Sherlock was too busy enjoying his stew to notice.
"What's it like over there?" Mrs. Watson wondered, obviously trying to start a conversation.
"I will not say anything. If the humans know too much, then they can invade, and we can't have that now can we?" Sherlock asked.
"Even if the humans could invade your planet, why would they want to?" John asked, poking around at his soggy carrots without real interest.
"Well, once you funny humans have ridded your entire planet of its minerals and resources and your species starts to die out, obviously you'll want somewhere else to occupy." Sherlock decided.
"We're not going to die out." John insisted.
"Yes we will. With this rate, my grandchildren will run out of fresh drinking water." Harry said enthusiastically.
"Stop with that Harry, you're making things up." Mr. Watson snapped, eyeing Sherlock with utmost dislike. Sherlock, of course, didn't notice.
"And what if your species wants to invade here?" John wondered.
"Why would we do that?" Sherlock asked.
"Who knows what you people think of? Why do you need an Alpha Male anyway, why do you need a leader?" John asked.
"Just defense I suppose. And besides, we've got the Alpha Male, so it doesn't matter." Sherlock shrugged.
"They're not just going to stop trying, they'll take more humans, they won't give up this search." John pointed out.
"You're saying they'll still out there looking for you two?" Mrs. Watson asked fearfully, looking out her window as if expecting guards to be looking back.
"Well, yes, but they could only find us on accident, they're not intelligent and they don't know where John lives." Sherlock shrugged.
"You said they were superior in every way, they'll figure it out eventually!" John insisted.
"Yes, and by that time we'll be long gone." Sherlock decided.
"Long gone where, we have nowhere else to go; this is a horrible escape plan!" John exclaimed.
"It's not an escape plan, more like a rational race against time." Sherlock shrugged.
"That's even worse." John groaned.
"John, eat your stew." Mr. Watson snapped. John gave his father a very confused look; like their entire life was in danger but of course he had to eat his stew.  So John ate his stew, listening to Sherlock ramble on about the joys of earth, like the 'cow juice', the dolls, and the comfy carpets. Sherlock loved the carpets from what John heard, he was talking about how on his planet their floors were cold and metal, and when you walked in the winter without shoes your feet got blue. John just rolled his eyes, 50% sure that all of what Sherlock was saying was just rubbish, rambling on to prevent an awkward silence around the table. When the meal was finished Mrs. Watson started on the dishes, but found that Sherlock was a very enthusiastic helper. He loved the soap suds and did more modeling than cleaning, but as long as the plates looked somewhat clean and there weren't bubbles everywhere, Mrs. Watson seemed satisfied. Maybe even appreciative, John couldn't tell what was going on in his mother's mind, but maybe she was starting to warm up to this childish alien. John headed backup to his room, leaving Sherlock downstairs to do his chores for him, and started at his now dusty old cell phone on the bedside table. It was funny, he never really thought he could live without this little gadget, this small box of metal in his hands, but he had gone nearly two weeks without it and hadn't even given it a thought. John plugged it in, and after a while it buzzed and revealed all the desperate texts he had received, from Greg, his mother, his father, his coach, even Mike had sent him a text asking where he was, as if that would help. John was tempted to text them all back, tell them that he was okay and he was home, but then again, John didn't want to. It was nice, being missing, being presumably dead; he might even get out of his makeup work. And if he texted them that he was home and the aliens got to his friends before him, they could easily track him down. That was the only reason John wanted to leave as fast as possible, for his family's safety. John had never lived on his own, he had never even gone camping without his parents by his side, but after his extraterrestrial adventure, honestly it wasn't too hard. At least he'd have Sherlock to help him through the rough patches, but John knew they had to leave. To where, well that was the question.