the doctor walked in and smiled at the boy who was sitting on the medical bed. "hello, sherlock, i'm docotor henson." he said and sat on the small circular stool. "do you know why you're here today?" he asked.

"i'm not a bloody child, of course i know." sherlock said swiftly.

"sherlock holmes!" his mother exclaimed, smacking the back of his head. "i do apologize for my son's behavior." mrs holmes said sincerily.

doctor henson gave a friendly laugh and smiled, "it's alright, i've delt with worse." he said then looked back at the clipboard in his lap. "so," he sighed. "we'll put you in a room in the cancer ward, you'll get your medicine at breakfast, lunch and dinner. you'll be able to go out, but you have to stay on hospital grounds. it looks like you have been through all the paper work already, now do you have any questions?" he asked and looked up back at the boy.

"where can i smoke?" he asked.

mrs holmes sighed and put her face in her hand, clearly not happy with her son.

"there's a section in the garden." the doctor informed him.

"great." sherlock said then slid off the medical bed, ripping the paper that was underneath him. he left the room and heard his mother talking to the doctor again. he lifted his hood over his pastel yellow turban then stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, making his way to the elevator. he stood with the heard of people and decided he didn't want to be a part of the crowd so he went to the stairs and instead of going down, he went up, finding his way to the roof of the hospital. he walked over to the ledge and sat down, it wide enough so he wouldn't fall off. he pulled the pack of cigerattes out along with a lighter, taking out one of the last of his cigerattes and lighting it.

two years ago, sherlock was diagnosed with panceratic cancer, now he was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. he was already a skinny boy who rarely ate, so no one expected a thing. it wasn't until later when he started complaining about back pains that they discovered it. sherlock hated going to the doctors, so he ignored the pain until he couldn't move, causing them to catch the cancer late. he's been through three surgeries and he's scheduled for one tomorrow to downsize the tumor in his pancreas. it wasn't worth it, but he had no say since he was only seventeen. a rare cancer normally found in elderly people found in a seventeen year old, weird huh? honestly sherlock don't give a rat's ass about the cancer or getting surgeries to help him live longer, it was all his parents. they wanted their son to live his life to the fullest, which he didn't understand because now they were admitting him to this so called hospital where he would be monitored 24/7. it wasn't a bad thing, really. he was away from his parents and they could only visit on the weekends because by the time they got off of work, visiting hours were up. that he was thankful for. now he sat there, on the roof of the hospital, smoking a cigeratte that he wasn't supposed to be somking, but he didn't care. once he finished the cigeratte, he sat on the ledge and looked over the fairly large town he lived in. the wind blew his hood off and he didn't mind this time. his pastel yellow turban covered up his bald head where beautiful chesnut curls used to be free, but because of chemo, they were all gone. the more the cancer progressed, the skinner he got. mainly because that's what the cancer did, but also because he rarely ate. he ate when he needed to and now he'd deffenitly have to eat when he took his meds. the boy spotted his mother's car in the parking lot, pulling out so that's when he decided to go back in. he put his hood back on as he entered the third floor, going to his assigned room. he walked in and half of the room was already taken, decorated of a young boy who had posters of bands and pictures of art hung up, while sherlock's side was blan. his bag sat on his bed and next to the bed sat a small night stand with a vase with a lonely flower in it. he scoffed at his mother's pathetic attepmt to make him feel better and pushed the bag off the bed, laying down in it's spot. he took out his phone and put his earbuds in, playing his music and ignoring the rest of the world as he closed his eyes and relaxed.

he didn't snap back into reality until a nurse shook him gently, saying his name as she set a plate of food on the small night stand along with a small dixie cup filled with his medicine. he pulled his earbuds out as he sat up, sighing. he took the medicine the grabbed his jello cup and spoon, rasing his bed so he could rest against it. he notice a boy staring at him from across the room and shot a look at him, making the boy go back to what ever he was doing before.

"i'm john." the voice spoke.

sherlock set his finished jello cup down then looked at the boy. "sherlock." he said, looking at what the boy was doing. it looked like he was drawing something, but he couldn't tell what. the boy looked up at sherlock and gave him a friendly smile, making sherlock feel weird. he was absouletly gorgeous. his sandy blond hair brought out his ocean blue eyes and his face had that boyish feture, but he looked like a man.

"so, why are you here?" john asked.

sherlock snapped out of his mind. "pancreatic cancer. you?"

"brain tumor." john replied, looking back down at his paper.

"how long have you been here?" sherlock asked, looking around the room.

"a year," john sighed. "they can't perform on the tumor, so they're just waiting for me to die." john said in a careless tone.

sherlock frowned, "sorry to hear that."

john shrugged. "it's fine." he said and tore the page out of his sketch book. he grabbed the small roll of scotch tape and stood up. "i hope you don't mind, i used your flower as a reference." he said as he taped the picture of a flower up.

sherlock was amazed with the drawing. it had incredible detail and looked exactly like the flower in the vase that sat on john's bed. "it's fine." sherlock said and stood up from his bed, getting a better look at all the drawings. "did you do all these?" he asked.

john nodded and looked over all his art work. "do you like them?"

"they're beautiful." sherlock complimented, looking over them, one catching his eye. it was one of the only one's colored of a girl who looked a little like john. "who's that?" he asked and pointed to the picture.

john looked at where he was pointing and smiled. "that's my sister, harry."

before sherlock could say something, a nurse came in and told john it was time for his chemo, so he left. sherlock sat on john's bed and looked at all the drawings. he had a plan to ignore the other patient he was going to be staying with, but with john he didn't want to. he was already amazing and he wanted to see more of john's work and more of him. the sketchbook sat next to him and taunted him until he opened it. he looked through the pages, seeing the artwork that amazed him the most. they were colored picture of different objects, people and scenes and sherlock loved them all. he especially loved the one of a small bee sitting atop a flower and the details were inpecible. he closed the sketch book, setting it back on the bed then looking at john's side more carefully. there was a small chest that was open and filled with books and sketch books and art supplies. he slid off of john's bed and crouched in front of the chest and looked at everything closer. there was a corner where at least six journals were piled up and a fresh one sat on top, so clearly john was a writer. the art supplies was mainly pencils, but he had a few tubes of paint and a set of small brushes that were all stacked on top of old sketch books. sherlock decided he was done being nosey and got up, going back over to his bed. he picked up his bag off the floor and set it on his bed, unzipping it. the nightstand was also a small dresser, so he put his clothes away then took his laptop out that was at the bottom of the bag. he tossed the empty bag down on the floor and pulled out the other bag that he had brought. it wasn't really a bag, it was more of a case. he opened the case and took out his violin, smiling softly. he took out the instrument then turned on his laptop, pulling up the music he was working on the sat on his bed, continuing to compose quietly.

"you're amazing." john said in awe as he watched the boy from his bed.

sherlock jumped slightly, not knowing john had returned. he felt his cheeks get hot as he looked over at the blond boy. "thanks." he said sheepishly.

"they have a small music group here." john said as he ate his hospital food dinner. "the people there are actually really good. they put on small shows for the elderly and the kids."

"when is it?" sherlock asked as he put his violin away.

"it's after lunch, around one."

"i'll check it out." he said and set the case on the floor then pushed it under his bed. he turned back to his laptop and added the notes he compose, finally finishing his piece.

"why aren't you eating?" john asked sherlock.

"i have surgery in the morning." he informed, not looking up from his laptop. "and before you ask it's to downsize the tumor on my pacreas."

john huffed out a soft laugh. "someone like to get straight to the point."

sherlock let out a little hum, keeping his focus on the computer.

the rest of the night was mostly silence between the two. john played his music out loud and sherlock didn't mind because he like the same bands as john, so it worked out. john was drawing and sherlock was still working on his piece, going through everything to make sure it was alright. a nurse came in their room around ten and told them it was quiet time, so they had to turn off the music. it wasn't that loud so once the nurse left, john got up and closed the door, turning the music down just a bit. sherlock had learned that john is a night owl like him. he didn't fall asleep until around two, but sherlock stayed up, not having a good reason to sleep.

they came and got him for his surgery early in the morning, most of the hospital still sleeping. he went through the usual pre-op, was told who hos doctors was, then the anesthesiologist told him to count back from ten then it was lights out. he woke up around noon, feeling the pain in his abdomen as the anesthesia wore off. he started to become aware of his sense and heard music, it must've been john so he looked at his side of the room, but it was empty. he remembered this was the time of that music group john was talking about, so he pressed the nurse's call button, wanting to see it. a nurse came in and helped him get dressed into a sweater and sweat pants, then into a wheel chair. she wheeled sherlock to the rec room where there were a group of people sitting around, playing instruments and there were a few people singing. the nurse opened the doors and pushed him in.

"what's another night on mars?" a boy and girls sang together while everyone else played the song on different instruments. "with friend like ours, any where is home!"

then everyone joined in for the last chours, smiling at each other; "this one goes out to my closest friends i know, the ones who make me feel less alien. i do not think i would be here if not for them. see all those nights in shitty bars and throwing up in taxi cars. on our backs, under the stars as we sing, as we sing!"

they all started cheering each other, talking with each other with great big smiles on their faces. sherlock watched them until a girl noticed them and went over to him. she had a pink turban on with flowers and sherlock thought it fit her.

"hi," she smiled. "i'm molly."

"sherlock." he responded. "so this is the music group?" he asked.

she nodded.

"you guys are good." he complimented.

molly smiled. "thank you." she turned around and said to the group, "hey, guys, come meet sherlock!"

slowly the kids started coming over to sherlock and introducing themselves, what they played, and what cancer they had. there was molly who played the piano, greg who played the drums, irene who played the bass chello, mike played the guitar, keith played the banjo, spencer played the ukuele, and the two that sang were twins; grace and victor. they were all nice to sherlock and he felt weird. no one was ever nice to him and when it was it was out of pitty because he was the kid with cancer. some one ran to sherlock's room and got his violin so he could play with them for the remaining time they had left. a nurse came in and told them it was time for them to pack up because the art group was coming to set up. as they were all packing up their instruments, a few people came in with bins of canvases and paint, one of them being john. sherlock wasn't surprised to see john with the art group. when he noticed sherlock staring at him, he smiled and walked over to him.

"how was the surgery?" he asked.

"i'm still breathing." sherlock responded, looking at john with a small smile.

"so i've noticed." john said. "you should stay for the art group."

"i'm good. i can't draw."

"oh come on!" john said amd smiled at him. "everyone can draw!"

sherlock chuckled. "true, but i am not good at it."

"does it matter?" he asked and got behind the wheel chair. "half the people in here can't either, so..." he said softly to sherlock, making him laugh. he pushed sherlock over to where they were laying out canvases with a cloth and paint palets. "you should really stay, we're following a bob ross video today."

"oh my god," sherlock laughed. "are you serious?" he asked and looked back at john.

john nodded, "afraid so. one of the elders requested it, so we're doing it." he said and pushed sherlock up to a canvas. "and you can be next to me." he said and locked the breaks on the wheel chair.

"what a nice gesture." sherlock said and looked at john.

john smiled. "i know right?" he chuckled softly. "i gotta continue to set up, don't go any where."

"like i could." sherlock said tonelessly.

john grinned and walked off, helping set up everything. sherlock looked around, seeing people distribute paint and canvases. people stared filling the room and john stood at the door, welcoming them. after everyone was seated, john came back over and took his spot next to sherlock. sherlock actually enjoyed himself. john made stupid jokes and puns during the video and sherlock couldn't help but laugh, sometimes a little too loudly then people would stare. sherlock focused on john painting more than himself painting because it was just an amazing thing to watch because he was doing it in his own special way. by the end, sherlock's painting looked like nothing it was supposed to and john's looked like it belonged in a musem. sherlock stayed and wait for john to help clean up so he could wheel him back to their room.

after they got back to the room, sherlock got in bed with the help of a nurse, took his medication then was out like a light. he thought about john while he slept. thought about how nice he his and how sweet and how good looking he was. for someone with a brain tumor, john looked really good. he still had muscle on him like he worked out still, but he couldn't because he's in the cancer ward of the hospital. john just looked good in general and sherlock may or may not already have a forming crush on him.