The break was almost over. Sherlock was licking his fingers. He loved the apple cake that he got from John. Just when Sherlock decided to start the next hour, John's phone rang. He muttered a sorry, and Sherlock told him that it's okay to take it. John smiled and answered the call.

"Yes, this is John Watson." He said to an unknown person, with a frown plastered on his face, his voice sternly. Suddenly John's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Yes, okay. I'm coming." He then turned off the phone and jumped out of his chair, starting to pack his stuff hastily. Everyone in the class was looking at John with curiosity.

"Sorry have to go," he muttered as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. Someone from the hospital just phoned John, telling him that both his parents are involved in a car accident, and that their condition is critical. John rarely sees them. Three times in a year maybe? But still, losing your parents isn't something you'd like to happen. Sherlock then continued the lesson against his will, wondering what happened.

~~

It's Saturday evening now and John was a wreck. He was walking in the streets, trying to clear his mind. He then stopped as his eyes were caught by a pub. There was a door open so that you could hear the noise inside. A lot of laughter came out from it and it made John curious. Normally he would have just turned around and go some other way. But tonight he felt depressed and found himself inside not a minute later. John sat down, finding himself a stool at the bar and he then looked around. Fresh tears ebbed at his eyes, as he thought about earlier that day. Why can't he be happy? Every time there was something that had to ruin his happiness. His parents are both lying in a coma.

"Do you want to order something?" The barkeeper asked with a generous smile. John thought it over and then spoke up.

"A cola please." He said. The barkeeper raised his eyebrows but nodded. John then frowned and hollered the barkeeper again, before he started working at John's order. "Never mind about the Cola. Give me your specialty of the house." He paused. "Something strong." He added and cleared his throat.

After John received his drink. He looked at it and spoke up. "I'm going to regret this." He muttered to himself. He then sighed as he grabbed the glass, running his finger around the rim of it. He sighed, wanting to drown out his thoughts with his drinks. He needed to forget everything for a while, he needed to numb the constant pain. Even he barely heard his mother and dad. They were still important for him. And then his sister... and Mary. His life was miserable. And then the other part. A part of john thought that he was in love with a man. John knew a guy like Sherlock could never be interested in such a boring person as John. John isn't sure he is in love. But there was something, and he knew it's not his stomach getting ill. He snorted at the thoughts. "I just met the man." He said in annoyance.

John sighed again and drunk the liquid without a pause. "Give me another." He said firmly, slamming the glass back on the counter. The barkeeper gave him a look but nodded. Not more than twenty minutes later he ordered his fifth. His depressed mood was gone thanks to the alcohol. He was quite drunk now. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he first thought that there was a bee in his pocket so he jumped of his chair. John started to giggle as he found out that it was his phone. He wobbled back on his chair and opened the text. His lips curled into a smile.

Are you feeling alright? I hope nothing serious happened. –SH

John accidently clicked on the call button, and declined immediately. He tried to go back to the message. After a bit struggling he managed to reply.

Ii'mm fineee. Thankyuooo for asking –JW

John had no idea about his spelling mistakes. He felt something in his stomach and smiled. Sherlock was being concerned and this made him happy. What caused John to order another drink. The barkeeper hesitated for a moment. Not sure if it was a good idea to let John get another drink. But he did gave him another, but with less alcohol. John of course didn't know that.

Are you okay? –SH

Ofcoourrse I'm the happiest person everrr. –JW

Where are you? –SH

WHhy? –JW

Answer me, John. –SH

John snorted, licking his lips lightly. He looked up at the barkeeper and raised his hand for attention. The man walked over to John and asked what he wanted to order again.

"Where are we?"

"The king's lion, Sir." He informed. "Do you want me to call a cab for you?" He asked politely. John shook his head and the man sighed and walked away.

The kwings lionn –JW

Stay there. –SH

Ten minutes later, John was still sitting at the bar, his head on the counter. A cab pulled up in front of the pub and Sherlock jumped out of the cab and walked into the bar. He looked at the drunk people around him with disdain. He cleared his throat, looking for John. As he found him, he walked over and coughed for John's attention, what succeeded. John jerked upright, losing his balance. Sherlock put his hand on John's back, keeping him steady.

"I'm taking you home, John." Sherlock informed him, grabbing John's jacket that was draped on the back of his chair and slipped it on John with a lot effort.

"Am I not?" John replied, looking vaguely around with frowned eyebrows. Sherlock sighed and put John's arm over his shoulder and pulled John out of his seat.

"Come on. You aren't going to be able to stand on your own. The cab is waiting outside."

"Okay." John muttered.

"You as a doctor should know that drinking isn't a solution." Sherlock said as they emerged the pub, keeping close distance, catching his elbow whenever he swayed to the side to hold him balanced. John replied something unintelligibly. Sherlock then let go of John so that he can open the cab door. John lost his balance and he almost fell, Sherlock stepped forward, catching him with one arm.

John started to shake his head, making weird movements and ran a hand through his hair. "I can walk home, Sherlock. I'm fine. No need to pay the cab again." He said as he rubbed his temples.

"If you think for one second that I am going to let you go home right now at this hour by yourself when you're intoxicated, you are insane." Sherlock said in warning tones, walking towards John. John's breath caught in his throat when he felt Sherlock's arm circle around his waist, pulling John into his side. The doctor pressed the palm of his hand on Sherlock's chest to steady himself. Their eyes locked and Sherlock couldn't help but blush. "Come on. Get in the cab." He said softly, trying to look away from John's beautiful eyes, but failed.

"Fine." John muttered. Sherlock helped him over to the cab, sitting him down on the seat. Sherlock sat down in the cab as well and closed the door. He turned to John.

"What is your address again?" Sherlock asked. John started to laugh and buried into Sherlock's shoulder. "John?"

"I don't remember." He mumbled on Sherlock coat, inhaling the smell.

"God, John. How many drinks you had?" Sherlock hissed and looked over with a sorry-face at the cabbie. "221B Baker street please."
__

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