Title: Buried Under the Layers
Summary: "I'm not lost," the now rain-soaked little boy stated. "Mummy just forgot to pick me up is all." Sherlock discovers that he's met John before. Just a little two (or three?) shot about kid Sherlock and John.
Rating: K+, no reason for the plus, I just want to make sure...^^'
Warnings: Nothing through this whole story, really. :)
Disclaimer: Sherlock the TV series in which I am writing from is in no way mine or affiliated with me. Sherlock is property of the BBC, and Sherlock Holmes is the creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
A/N: Hello and thanks for starting to read my third fanfic! This is going to be a short story, probably only two or three chapters. However my chapters are relatively long so hopefully you can be entertained :). Please R&R if you can, constructive criticism is great, but no flames please.^^
John Watson had helped many people in his life. Numerous soldiers in Afghanistan sick and injured at the clinic, and children. John had always loved children. He'd always been good with them, and they seemed to like him. He'd babysat several times for the children on the streets he'd lived on. He'd helped numerous lost children find their way home before, as they seemed to deem him to be the most approachable person to plead for help to when lost.
It was one of the reasons that John had become a doctor. He'd liked helping those children. He liked the way they clung to his hand and made him feel important. He loved the feeling of satisfaction when the child was returned home and gave him a hug. He enjoyed knowing that he'd helped the touching reunion of lost child to worried parent. Naturally, he didn't remember all of these children's' names. Most of them melded together in the back of his memory after he grew up and went to Afghanistan. Because after he came back, no children asked him for help. His eyes were colder. ((Small interjection, sorry if that paragraph sounded slightly paedophilic, it was meant in a completely non-creepy way.))
Sometimes something would spike a memory to come back suddenly, making John smile in remembrance of his easier, younger days. It might be something simple and nearly unrelated like last week, when he was walking through the park and saw a fish in the pond. He had smiled gently remembering a child named Billy.
A redheaded, eager little boy who'd lost his mum after getting distracted by the fish in a pond. John had come behind him, surprised at seeing such a young boy, around 4 or so, alone. "Nice fish aren't they?" He'd asked, making sure not to scare the little boy. The ginger had looked eagerly up at him, nodding excitedly. His face had fallen when he noticed his mum was nowhere in sight.
John had kneeled down, gently saying, "Did you get lost?" The child had then burst into tears. Within the hour, John had managed to return the scared boy to his by then equally scared mother. He'd given John a tight hug then, and John had smiled and patted him twice on the head. He never saw Billy again.
Memories came back again today. John was cleaning; going through some of the boxes he'd never unpacked when coming back from Afghanistan, even after moving in with Sherlock. One box was full of cards and drawings he'd received in the past. He'd meant to just organize it, but ended up reading each one.
It was an assortment of the most special cards and drawings he'd gotten. One pile, labelled 'birthdays' contained cards dating even back to his first birthday. Cards from his sister Harry, drawn and written in waxy crayon and 'Happy Birthday' messily scrawled on construction paper. Cards from his Granny, who passed away about 25 years ago, and even a card from his Grandad, who passed when John was only one. There was a card from his old girlfriend, Melanie, whom he'd been with for nearly 6 years before a rather sad but civil goodbye. All of these made memories rush back to John like water down a drain, making him sadly happy, smiling.
The next pile was labelled 'Drawings From Kids I Babysat'. The last pile was labelled 'Drawings From Kids I Helped Home.' The rather long labels made John chuckle at himself, and he picked up the pile with the drawings from kids he'd helped home. He started to take off the old, hardened rubber band, but it snapped against John's finger quite suddenly.
John gave a small cry of surprise, and though it hadn't really hurt very much, it'd rather startled him, and he dropped the pile. The drawings scattered on the floor in a messy pile, causing John to curse lightly. He sighed at the mound of drawings in front of him, and started to pick up the paper. As he did, he glanced at each sheet, sometimes recognizing the drawing, sometimes remembering a child's name, sometimes not recognizing the drawing at all.
The pictures were cute, even in their slightly dusty and yellowed state. Pictures of John (he thought), animals, flowers, toys, fairy tale characters and...the labelled geologic layers of a rock? John picked this last drawing up with curiosity and confusion. He laughed, amused. What child drew such scientific models for fun?
Sherlock, probably, John thought amused. What would he be like as a kid? A genius, no doubt. Child prodigy. John closed his eyes and tried to imagine his looks, finding it surprisingly easy. Too easy. He froze and opened his eyes. There was no way...But sure enough, on the bottom right corner of the drawing, written in messy black crayon, was 'Sietific Observaton by Sherlock'.
"Sherlock," John called out shakily. Then, starting to smile like a madman: "Sherlock!"
Moments later, a almost panting and annoyed (but slightly concerned) looking Sherlock appeared from the stairs that led to the tiny, dusty attic that John and he kept their junk and such. His face relaxed to an expression of just annoyance when he saw John was fine.
"What ever could you want right now?" He said irritably. "I'm in the middle of an experiment. I'm measuring the way cells of the eye act after one dies by being strangled compared to one after drowning."
"Yes, yes, you can get back to your experiment in a minute," John grinned, trying not to imagine how Sherlock got hold of eyeballs, and held up the crayon drawing for the taller man to see. "Do you remember this?" He asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Sherlock took the paper and stared at it irritably. "Why would I recognise it, I-Oh." He'd noticed his name on the bottom of the paper. And as far as he knew, there weren't very many Sherlocks walking around right now. He moved the paper around a little, starting to shuffle nervously. "Well I...no, I don't remember, but this certainly seems to be something I...drew."
John nodded, still grinning. Sherlock sat down next to John on the poorly carpeted ground and looked at the old piece of paper a little longer. He seemed agitated that he couldn't remember, though not surprised about the lack of memory. John wasn't surprised he didn't remember either. Normal childhood days seemed like something Sherlock had long since deleted. But also because Sherlock had only been 5.
"You drew this and gave it to me, because I found you lost-" John started to explain when Sherlock quickly interjected:
"I don't get lost." Normally John would've been slightly annoyed at Sherlock for this, but to Sherlock's surprise, he laughed. "What," he said irritably, "Do you find that funny?"
"Sorry," John said, still slightly laughing. "It's just that you said the exact same thing to me that day, too."
Sherlock looked embarrassed. He'd never guessed he'd met John when he was younger. But it wasn't unreasonable - though London was a pretty large area, he'd passed possibly millions of people since childhood. Yet the number of people he'd actual spoken to was a lot smaller. Though more talkative as a child, he'd still been socially awkward.
John looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, he started to tell Sherlock of their day together in the end of August, about 30 or so years ago.
A/N: Yep, so there's the first chapter! It was meant to be a one shot, but it ended up being 2:00 in the morning before I knew it and had to go to bed. But you can expect the next chapter to come quite soon. Sorry it was such a long introduction to the scenario, I tend to go on about things for an unnecessarily long time. But thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. Feedback, though not flames, are greatly appreciated!