And Together We Fell (prev. "Teenlock") - An AU Sherlock/Johnlock Fanfic

Chapter 27

DUDES.

I'M BACK.

I LOVE YOU.

I'm back from this too-long hiatus and I still think I made the right choice in leaving this for a bit. The story will be renamed "And Together We Fell" and there's a brand new cover! You'll see this shiny new stuff tomorrow (or whenever, dependant on when you read this!)

But hi. How are you? I hope you're well. I missed you guys a lot. I see your comments every day and I see all of them (thank you email notification!) so know I love every single one of you, you lucky ducks.

<3

 

/John woke up. Blind panic washed over as the suffocating blanket entangled and trapped his arms and legs, before the warm air struck his skin and relief sunk in. He twisted around lazily, pushing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, resting his hands either side for a few seconds.

Just like always, the grief that mellowed silently in his gut came to surface, bubbling and scratching yet he forced it down. Like always. Breathe steady.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In--/

 

Weariness steeped John's bones, the aching tiredness dragging his every step through the corridors that he now knew of like the back of his hand after traversing through them for the past 2 and a half years.

Sixth Form. Years 12 and 13. A-Levels.

What a load of overestimated shit.

Stuck on the end of the school, you had the choice of apprenticeships, college, or the school's sixth form. John chose Sixth Form. He didn't think he could cope with any more choice than necessary.

Of course, having the liberty of leaving the grounds of Baskerville whenever was great, and though most 17 year olds went off to the smokers' corner in the park, he would just walk. He'd walk for an hour at a time, just through the lanes and sometimes through gardens if they needed to get back in time.

They. Of course it was they. In the 14 months that had passed since a drugged Greg Lestrade fell off a building in the accidental place of John, Sherlock had absolutely refused to leave John alone for extended periods of time.

Not a lot had happened in 14 months. They passed their GCSEs, Sherlock understandably gaining A*s in most subjects (of course failing Religous Education with his stubborn atheism and strange and sometimes questionable morals), and John comfortably passed all his subjects with high scores in chemistry and biology. Sherlock got a scooter, to the absolute horror of John, yet John was still always left breathless whenever Sherlock drove through empty roads at somewhat questionably exhilarating speeds, considering it was only a 50 CC.

Sherlock and John were, unsurprisingly, still "Sherlock and John". Their walks were at first talking about the most random things for an hour, but soon settled in silence, their entwined hands loud enough words for both of them. They didn't need to be by each other's side every second of the day in order to know exactly how the other felt.

That was what John looked forward to every day.

Clutching his AS Human Biology books loosely in his grip, he shouldered open the door to his dorm, collapsing onto the slender form of his boyfriend who was already seemingly dead to the world, having also collapsed onto the bed just minutes beforehand.