Secretly I Think You Knew

Idiotic Protection Program

    It felt very odd going to get Greg after so many days of avoiding him, but John had to admit, it was very relieving to see that idiot stumbling out of his door, pulling on his coat, dragging his backpack, and eating half a donut.
"Good morning John." Greg said with a mouthful of chocolate, throwing his bag in the backseat and climbing into the passenger seat.
"You really are a morning person, aren't you?" John laughed. Greg just groaned, turning on the radio as John started down the street.
"So, have you made your decision yet?" Greg asked as the latest alternative bands played in the background.
"Decision on what?" John asked curiously.
"You know, life or death? Are you going to Sherlock's for murder or are you going to stay home and ensure your life expectancy?" Greg asked.
"I'm going tonight after soccer practice for dinner, that's it." John insisted. Greg was just being dramatic; of course Sherlock wasn't going to kill him. Mycroft was the problem and this was a hand written note asking to talk it out, obviously John made some sort of impression to make Mycroft try to make peace.
"I don't know John, really, he makes me uncomfortable." Greg insisted.
"Why does he make you uncomfortable? I mean sure he's rather odd, but once you get to know him he's like, the greatest person alive." John pointed out. Greg sighed heavily, opening and closing the little air conditioning vents on the dashboard as he considered his answer.
"He doesn't seem like a nice kid. I mean, I know you speak highly of him, but John, he looks at you like you're a piece of meat. I don't think he's very considerate of other people's feelings, and he definitely doesn't have anyone else's interests in mind." Greg insisted. John just shook his head, thinking of everything Sherlock had given up to ensure John's safety. He definitely cared; he might actually care a bit too much.
"He's a little overwhelming, I know, but honestly, he wouldn't hurt me." John insisted.
"Do you think he has a thing for you? I mean, the way he stares at you I'd kind of say there was something going on there." Greg pointed out. John just laughed, shaking his head.
"Who knows what's going on in Sherlock's head?" he asked.
"You don't sound too concerned." Greg observed, finishing off the last of his donut and watching John suspiciously.
"Why should I be concerned? It doesn't matter if he's gay or not, he's still a human being." John pointed out.
"Do you like him?" Greg asked.
"Of course I like him, we went over this." John insisted, stopping at the stoplight and looking around for Sherlock's car.
"No, I mean romantically. Do you like him?" Greg corrected. John sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and shrugging.
"No, I don't I'm not gay. If he were a girl then I suppose I would, but since he's not, we're friends. Besides, he's all about being a sociopath and feelings are unknown to him and all that rubbish. He's lying of course, he's bursting with too many feelings, honestly he's such an emotional train wreck." John admitted. Greg stared at him for a moment, his mouth slightly hanging open with a chocolate sprinkle clinging to his upper lip.
"I'm kind of worried about how you answered that." he decided.
"There's nothing wrong with being gay!" John insisted.
"Well, yes, and I know you're not, Mary Morstan is proof of that, but come on mate, you're kind of making me doubt you here. Tomorrow you'll come into school with a v neck and a fashionable scarf, I mean, who knows what might happen?" Greg asked fearfully. John just laughed, shaking his head reassuringly.
"I'm not gay Greg, trust me, if I were, you'd know." John assured.
"Are you hitting on me?" Greg asked.
"Oh ya, thanks for noticing after what, twelve years. I've been gay and hitting on you for this long, you're just too dumb to notice." John agreed sarcastically, pulling into the school parking lot and getting out of the car.
"Once again mate, you're scaring me." Greg decided, grabbing his backpack out of the backseat and watching as John grabbed his as well, locking the car and starting towards the school.
"Don't worry Greg; I'm as straight as a ruler." John assured.
"Some rulers bend." Greg insisted, scampering along behind him. John didn't answer, he just kept walking. When he walked to his locker he noticed Sherlock at his, getting his books out or something and keeping his gaze rather determinedly in his locker, as if he had noticed John's presence and didn't want to acknowledge him. John didn't say anything of course, he would casually mention to Sherlock that he could go to dinner in class, but other than that not a word would be said. John didn't know if this whole dinner date ended their little break up, but he'll let Sherlock decide that for himself. If Sherlock had decided to leave because of Mycroft's reign of terror and Mycroft actually wanted to make peace, then maybe the two of them can get back to being friends. John opened his locker, grabbed his English book and put away his lunch box before closing it once again and wandering over to Greg's locker, where Greg was still trying to fit his lunch box into the horrible mess of papers and books.
"You should clean that out." John suggested.
"Come on, it's fine." Greg insisted. John sighed, grabbing a crinkled up paper from inside the locker and reading it. Greg, this is algebra, what is this from, ninth grade?" he exclaimed, throwing it back on top of the pile while Greg shut the locker forcefully.
"They said we'd need it." Greg defended, catching his breath as if that had all been very strenuous.
"They always say that, we never need anything." John insisted.
"True, but you know me; I always want to be prepared for any academic experiences." Greg insisted with a very sarcastic smile.
"You're a hoarder." John corrected with a frown.
"I'm too lazy to clean, there's a difference." Greg insisted.
"Well, I'm off to English." John decided, staring down the hallway.
"Be careful, and do consider my point of view." Greg suggested.
"Ya, ya, have fun." John shrugged, waving Greg away as he made his way down to English. The door wasn't open and, as ever, Sherlock was leaning against the wall, looking breathtakingly beautiful.
"Hey Sherlock." John muttered. Sherlock looked up at him and forced a smile.
"Hello John." he agreed, a sad look in his eyes for some reason.
"I um, I can come to dinner tonight. I just wanted to tell you that." John decided. Sherlock took a deep breath, looking down at the ground.
"Don't." he muttered. John looked at him in confusion.
"Don't what?" he asked with a laugh.
"Don't come to dinner. It was Mycroft's idea, but I don't want you to come. I told you goodbye, I want it to be final." Sherlock said determinedly. John stood there for an exasperated second, trying to make sense of what Sherlock had just said.
"I thought it would be a good idea, if Mycroft wants to make peace, like the letter said, then it would be good. Then we don't have to say goodbye." John pointed out. Sherlock took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if saying all of this was psychically painful.
"I told you John, I don't want you to come. I don't care what Mycroft thinks, I hate you...worming around in my life. Following me, pretending we're friends, we're not friends, and I don't want to see you at my house tonight." Sherlock said finally.
"We are friends, you said that I was forgiven, that you were sorry and you wanted me to be safe!" John looked around, noticing that some people in the hallways were giving some rather odd looks. "I thought we had something Sherlock, I thought you only said goodbye to ensure my safety, and now my safety is ensured! Mycroft is going to try to work things out, we can be together again!"
"Don't say that as if we were together once. What if I just used Mycroft as an excuse not to talk to you?" Sherlock pointed out. "What if he would love for me to hang out with other people and I just don't want to?"
"That's rubbish Sherlock, you've snuck around him for the entire time I've known you. Are you saying you beat yourself up the day he dragged you off the porch by the ear?" John hissed, starting to feel more and more upset. Sherlock couldn't actually mean all of these things could he? Sherlock cared for John, he always has, Mycroft was the devil, John had seen it first hand, so why was Sherlock so desperate to get rid of John?
"Get away from me John, and stay away. I thought I made that clear the other night." Sherlock snapped.
"What happened last night, why were you away from school?" John asked.
"Leave me alone!" Sherlock yelled, and the entire hallway fell silent, all the little freshman stopping and watching them. John stood there for a moment, staring at Sherlock in shock. Not only was this humiliating but it was heart breaking, he didn't know what he had done to make Sherlock so upset with him, but he wanted to somehow make it better. Maybe Sherlock just didn't want John and Mycroft to communicate, maybe he was still trying to drive John away for some reason, as if Greg was right, and John was going to their house to get killed.
"Alright, fine Sherlock. Fine. Just expect me tonight at five o'clock, like the invitation said." John decided. Sherlock just groaned, walking away to another part of the hallway and disappearing around the corner for a little bit of peace, leaving John awkwardly alone in the middle of the freshman swarm.
"He's always like that." John assured with a sort of awkward smile. they didn't look very convinced but slowly started off to their classes, chatting about what had just happened. John sighed, leaning up against the wall and trying to figure out the motive to Sherlock's madness. Was he really that bad? Had Sherlock just been using Mycroft as a cover for all of these days, making up stories to try to get John away from him? No, Sherlock spoke his mind, always. If he hadn't wanted John around then he would've just said so, obviously he didn't have any trouble humiliating John and making him feel bad. No, there was something going on. Maybe Sherlock was afraid John would say something over dinner about Sherlock's sneaking around, his trip to the 'library' and their near kiss. Maybe he was afraid of being in close quarters with John again; as if he was worried John would try to kiss him again. Either way, John would be smart. He would go to dinner and talk very nicely with Mycroft and they could iron out their differences and finally come to an understanding, and finally Sherlock and John could talk to each other and be together. Besides, Mycroft didn't know that John knew what happened at their house, he didn't know that John knew about the abuse and Sherlock's tragic upbringing. Mycroft probably thought that John saw him as just an older brother that has Sherlock's best interests in mind, which was, of course, rubbish. Unless Mycroft thought best interests consisted of getting scared straight. The teacher arrived to open up the door and finally Sherlock came back around from the other hallway, sitting quietly at his desk and propping a book up. It seemed, however, that he really wasn't reading at all, just staring at the words and getting lost in his own head. John didn't pay him much attention however; he was still rather upset with Sherlock for making a huge scene in the hallway and embarrassing him in front of the freshman. Now half of their class thought John was a pesky little brat that wouldn't let the class creep out of his sight. Thankfully Sherlock wasn't looking over at John either, as if he were too scared to look over and see John staring back. What was going on in that boy's head, what was he so afraid of? It was just dinner, and John was sure, with all that soccer weight training they had to do, that he could take on Mycroft even if he did want to somehow kill him. Mycroft may be able to beat up his younger brother but there was no way he was going to take John, not when John had something to fight for. When lunch finally came, Greg was waiting at John's locker with his lunch box in hand, smiling as John came down the hall.
"You look thoughtful." Greg decided.
"Sherlock yelled at me this morning, insisting that I shouldn't come to dinner." John mumbled, opening his locker rather aggressively.
"And what did you do about it?" Greg asked. John sighed, stuffing his history book into his locker and shrugging.
"I told him that I was coming anyway, that I was going to make peace with his brother and we'd go from there." John decided. Greg groaned, as if he really couldn't understand why John was so clueless.
"John, he knows something you don't, obviously he's trying to push you away for a reason." Greg insisted.
"He's being an idiot, he knows nothing." John decided.
"John, he's done this with Victor Trevor! He knows that dinner means death, and he's trying to protect you in his own idiotic way." Greg insisted. John shrugged, closing his locker and walking moodily to the lunch room.
"Why would he want to protect me? He's a sociopath, he doesn't care about anyone." John snapped.
"I thought you said he was an emotional train wreck." Greg pointed out.
"Ya, he is, I was being sarcastic." John insisted.
"Alright, alright, don't get all moody with me Watson." Greg sighed.
"I'm not moody." John insisted. Greg rolled his eyes doubtfully, leading the way over to the lunch table and sitting down without another word. John looked over to Sherlock's lunch table, which was empty of course. Where did that boy go if he wasn't at lunch? Did he eat in the hallways somewhere? John decided that it really wasn't his problem, if Sherlock wanted to mope around the school all day rather than face John, well, that was his choice.
"Well, it's good to see you again." James decided with a smile.
"I was here yesterday." John insisted with a confused laugh.
"I know, but it's still good to see you. It's a lot better with your idiocy lighting the table up." James assured.
"I don't know what that means, but I'll take it as a complement." John decided.
"That's definitely not what it's supposed to be." Greg insisted.
"Shut up Greg." Mike snapped. John sighed, taking out his food and starting on his lunch, his thoughts spiraling back off to Sherlock.
"So, John's got a date tonight." Greg pointed out with a smile.
"Oh my god! With who? Is it Mary, I think it's Mary, good job John!" Mike exclaimed, leaning in closer to hear what John said next.
"Oh shut up Greg, it's not a date." John snapped.
"Who's it with? Are you going to movies, are you still denying your love for each other?" James asked excitedly.
"Shut up, I'm going over to Sherlock's house for dinner, and it's not a date, and we don't have love for each other." John insisted.
"Lies." Greg muttered. James and Mike suddenly looked a lot less excited.
"You're going to Sherlock's?" Mike muttered.
"Sounds rather suicidal." James decided.
"That's what I said!" Greg agreed.
"He's not a bad person, you're all overreacting." John insisted.
"In our defense, we really aren't." James shrugged.
"I'm going, that's the end of it, Greg's just trying to get you two on his side." John pointed out.
"Guilty." Greg agreed.
"Your funeral." Mike muttered, going back to opening up his package of Oreos. John sighed, why couldn't anyone understand that Sherlock was a good person? Why did every think he was some sort of devil?