I Never Do

John Watson

As Sherlock grew older, he learned from Mycroft the proper social cues expected of a person, such as when to say sorry and why you should say it, and when to say thank you and no thank you. He learned how and when to pick up on facial expressions and what each one meant. Mycroft would make a face, Sherlock would guess what it was, and he'd be rewarded by a treat.

By the time Sherlock turned 15, Mycroft felt like he was finally ready to go out into the world and go to school - a proper school. When he discussed this with their parents, they asked how Sherlock felt about it all.

"I want to do it. I can do it. I feel ready."

Their parents hugged him and made arrangements for him to go to Mycroft's old high school.

On his first day, Mycroft pulled Sherlock aside to speak with him before he entered the school.

"If anyone messes with you, you just tell them that your older brother is Mycroft Holmes; they'll back off instantly."

Sherlock nodded and trudged up to the front doors. He was nervous, of course, but more scared than anything.

What if he doesn't fit in?
What if nobody likes him?
What if people think he's weird?

These thoughts plague him as he enters the building.

As soon as he's inside, he's welcomed by whom he assumes is the principle.

"Do you have your schedule?" he asks.

Sherlock shakes his head.

"No worries, we can get that sorted. Name?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"I have a William Holmes, but no Sherlock."

"That's me, although I prefer Sherlock."

"Well, then. It's nice to meet you, Sherlock. If you'll just follow me, I'll get your schedule printed out and you'll be on your way. You wouldn't happen to be related to one Mycroft Holmes, would you?"

"My is my older brother, yes."

"Oh, is he? Well, I must admit that he was one of our finest students. He's gone on to be the British Government now, hasn't he? At least, that's what I've heard from a friend."

Sherlock nodded and took his schedule from the man's outstretched hand.

"Yes, he just about runs everything these days."

"That's amazing. Give him my best, will you? I rather miss him. I hope you enjoy your classes!"

"Thank you, sir. See you," he waved goodbye and began to walk to his first class, English Literature.

Sherlock was the first to arrive. He greeted the teacher, introduced himself, and sat down at the very front. A few minutes later a flood of students began barging in. After everyone sat down, the teacher began the lesson.

The rest of the day went by much of the same way. First to class, introduce, pick a seat, learn. All in all, Sherlock's day was going relatively well for his first ever school experience.

It was at lunch when his day took a wrong turn.

He had stood in line, picked his meal, and sat down. He'd not spoken to or looked at anyone. He'd minded his own business.

Five minutes into what should've been a peaceful meal, he was shoved from his seat. He landed on the floor on his side, and his lunch followed suit. He looked up at who had disturbed him and snarled.

"Do you have a problem?"

The older boy scoffed down at him and stood to tower over Sherlock. He was just about to reel his leg back to get in a good kick, but someone had rushed to Sherlock's side and pushed the other students away from him.

"Oi, leave him alone!"

"Back off, Watson."

Sherlock watched the dispute with mild interest. He was going to stand and just walk away, but this boy had come to his aid.

"No, you back off before I knock out your bloody teeth."

Sherlock was shocked when they scurried off, mumbling insults under their breath. The other kid held his hand out for Sherlock to take, to which he gladly accepted.

"Thank you," Sherlock mumbled.

"Any time. I'm John; John Watson."

Sherlock shook his hand. He found it easy to do. He didn't feel repulsed by his touch. He found he rather liked it.

"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock completely forgot about Mycroft's last words to him that morning, deciding to stick around with John instead.

"Are you my friend?" Sherlock asked. "Because not-friends don't really do that. Or at least, I don't think they do. I don't know, I've been homeschooled my whole life. I've never had a friend. Can we be friends? I'm rambling, aren't I? I apologize. I will leave you alone if you wish."

John just listened to him speak, grinning the entire time.

"Of course we can be friends."

"Best friends?"

"That's a deal, mate."

Sherlock beamed. He has a friend! And not just any kind of friend; a best friend!

"What do you like to do then, Sherlock?"

Sherlock took a moment to think on that.

"I like to read a lot, but my absolute favorite thing to do is visit the bees at my uncle's house!"

"Your uncle has bees?"

Sherlock nodded enthusiastically.

"A lot of bees!"

"That's pretty cool. I've never seen a bee in person before."

"Never? Like, ever?"

John shook his head.

"Well why not?"

John shrugged. "My father doesn't allow my sister and me to go out much. Says we shouldn't waste our days dillydallying and all that rubbish."

"That's horrible. The next time we go, would you like to come with us?"

John's face lit up. "Sounds like fun, mate."

Sherlock grinned. "I used to have a bee named John, you know. I wouldn't really consider it a friend seeing as it couldn't talk, stand up for me, or do just about anything besides what it normally did, but it was as close as. But now I have the real thing, and you even have the same name!"

John laughed.

Sherlock decided that he liked John's laugh. He would do everything in his power to hear it every day.