Just A Game [Teenlock]

Chapter Eight: Silence

A/N: I apologise for the wait, (and my sloppy 3am editing) I've been doing a ton of school sessions to catch up on coursework. That's all over now so I plan to write more. This story and Johnlock Texts are my focus at the moment.

Also I know that I asked this at the end of the last chapter but I'd really like to know who you ship together out of the characters so far!

*

Monday lunch time and neither Sherlock nor Jim were anywhere in sight.

Two hours after he'd gone upstairs Sherlock had come down and politely asked them all to leave. Naturally, Irene tried to demand she was told what was going on while everyone else left.

She went too soon enough and no one had seen the two teens since that day.

They hadn't been seen in any of their lessons and none of the other really expected to see them today but when lunch rolled around they were all eagerly sitting and waiting. Michael had joined them, worried.

Turns out that when he disappeared it was to help Molly out with the tea but John had his doubts about this kid. He gave John a bad feeling. Irene seemed to think so too because every time Michael made a comment about Sherlock, she'd shoot him a look.

If John was starting to seriously worry about the two then he didn't want to imagine what Irene was feeling. Her two best friends had disappeared, no phone calls, no texts, no appearances and all since they had what seemed to be their first conflict.

John just didn't understand. Sherlock had made a stupid joke, like he always does, and Jim reacted badly. Fine, that made sense. Jim was mad at John and took his anger out on his friend. What didn't make sense was the disappearance and the secretive nature of it all.

Sherlock and Jim were hiding something.

They had seemed so simple. Sex, competition and friends. They weren't simple though, there was more to it, John could see that now.

The question is. What's wrong with them and why now?

~

The phone was ringing. Sherlock's phone. The screen flashed as the device buzzed and moved slightly to and fro over the desk.

Sherlock just stares. Jim's name and a picture of the Irish boy and Sherlock with their arms wrapped around each other shows on the screen. The picture was taken a few days after the first ever draw. Jim had won that one, Sherlock remembers.

The lanky teen continues to stare at the phone, his face blank but eyes portraying many emotions. Mainly disgust and hatred.

The phone falls silent then, the picture of the two friends being replaced with a blank black screen.

The ringing starts again only a moment later.

Sherlock wonders if Jim went into college, in hopes of seeing Sherlock and patching things up. Sherlock glances at the time and he knew that had Jim been in college he'd be in lesson and there was no way that he'd be able to ring Sherlock.

Jim probably knows that Sherlock had no intention of going in today. Not with his current thought pattern.

The ringing stop then only for a loud ding! to follow. Another one follows and then another. It's like an endlessly stream for almost a minute.

ding! ding! ding! ding! ding! ding! ding! ding! ding!

Sherlock presses the button to read them but the ding noise continues.

Sherlock, please answer me. xx

We need to talk. xx

You have to understand. xx

Let me explain. xx

I get that I'm in the wrong but you're my best friend. xx

I don't want to fall out over this. xx

I know you're more then a bit disgusted with me. xx

Please talk to me. xx

Please, Sherlock. xx

Please! xx

Taking a small breath Sherlock types out a message. Go away. Stop calling and texting, you stupid m- He stops and deletes it all, placing his phone down. It continues to ding.

If you give me the chance to show you. You'd understand why. xx

I'm not texting it all. xx

I'm going to college tomorrow. I know you didn't go today. xx

Please be there. xx

We need to talk. xx

Sherlock stops reading after that, and goes back to the notebook sat in front of him.

He scribbles a few more words before his phone goes back to buzzing.

He stares again. Jim tries to call another five times before Sherlock gives up and answers. Telling himself it was because the noise was getting annoying and giving him a headache. Although he knew all too well he could have easily put the phone on silent.

He doesn't say a single thing after answering just listens to Jim's fast but steady breathing.

"Sh-Sherlock..." Jim's voice sounded broken, even over the phone and Sherlock almost caved. It was clear that the Irish was had been crying or was close to.

Then his head filled with images and words, remembering the discussion they'd had on Saturday before Sherlock had screamed at Jim to leave. He'd told Jim to leave his life and never come back.

Sherlock still wasn't sure if he wanted to stick to that.

"Do you forgive me yet?" Jim asks after a moments silence, his voice quiet to help disguise the pain he was feeling.

A few more moment of silence pass. Then "No" and a dial tone on Jim's end.

~

Tuesday was.. awkward. In a single word. Awkward.

Irene was ready to burst. She really hated this. Sherlock and Jim had always been so close. They had their little inside jokes and were basically two halves of the same person. If one went left, the other knew to go right. It was the way things went.

Now, they were sitting at their usual lunch table, in their usual seat and just ignoring each other.

Sherlock was staring down at the table and he hadn't even brought a piece of fruit to roll around the table. He hadn't spoken a word to anyone and when they tried, he just glared at them.

Jim was acting like everything was fine and Sherlock was still his best friend. He spoke to Sherlock like he usually would never got a reply.

John, Molly and Irene were constantly exchanging worried looks. John may have only been their friend for a week but he was certainly part of their group now.

"Sherlock" John speaks suddenly. He was the only one to not have tried speaking to Sherlock.

As expected, Sherlock raises his head and glares. Although he was definitely interested in what John had to say.

"I.. er.." John scratched the back of his head awkwardly. That made Sherlock drop his glare.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow and that's the most conversation he's made all day.

"So, I heard you're.. like.. um, really really good at Chemistry.." John had a blush on his cheeks as he speaks.

Irene raises an eyebrow, wondering where the hell this was going. Molly and Jim were equally as confused as to why John was so awkward.

"Would you consider helping me out a bit? My grades are.. well, they're shit if I'm honest.." John finally looks up at Sherlock, a nervous smile on his lips.

Molly frowns, giving John a sideways glance. John never told anyone about his grades. He preferred to be Modest when he got high grades and when they were bad, no one knew. 

Sherlock just blinks at him and remains silent. John frowns.

"I'm confused as to why you're ignoring everyone. Surely it'd make more sense to just ignore Jim"

Irene looks to Jim for a reaction. Jim didn't seem to be paying attention, his eyes were on Sherlock.

Sherlock looks around at his friends, his eyes stopping on Jim. John shifts awkwardly in his seat, looking down at the floor, embarrassed by the fact he'd admitted his grades were rubbish for nothing. And perhaps, he was a little disappointed Sherlock had ignored him too. A tiny part of him had hoped that he'd somehow get through to the other teen. Even after the whole grinding thing at the party, not that either had mentioned it.

Under the table, Molly grabs hold of John and Irene's hands, eyes on the two boys that were staring heatedly at one another. She didn't know who she was co forging, herself or the owners of the hands she held.

"Sher--" Jim starts.

Sherlock holds up a hand, cutting him off. The taller boy stares at Jim for a moment before he scoffs and stands up. He says nothing at all before walking away from the table and out of the lunch room.

Michael wonders over to their table then, smiling at them all. His smile drops into a frown as he takes in their faces. "I'm guessing I missed something"

~

I'm sorry. Don't continue this silence, I hate it. xx

I know this is hurting you too. xx

Fine. Ignore me, sulk, cut me out.

I don't care... Just stop ignoring everyone else.

~

Tap.

John stirs in his bed, a frown masking his features briefly before it smoothies out and the blonde rolls on his side, sinking into a peaceful slumber since again.

Tap.

"Ugh gar ay.." were the unintelligible murmurs of the half sleeping teen.

Tap.

John slowly sits up, aware that this noise wasn't going away until he acknowledged it. In his sleep deprived state that's about all he can register for a few seconds.

He then glances over at his glowing alarm clock that displayed the number clearly. Just gone three in the morning. He had college tomorrow! The source of that sound really wants to hide. John was a grumpy morning person as it was. Never mind three in the morning.

Tap.

Now more awake, John could find the source of the sound that woke him. A stone had flew in to his window. Curious, John shuffles out of bed, shivering at the cold air on his naked torso. Was someone really throwing stones at his window?

John crowds close to the glass, peering down into his darkened back garden. At first all he saw was his mother's flowers and his father's vegetables but then a flicker of movement caught his eye and another stone was sent hurling towards the window.

On instinct, John flinches away but, obviously, the stone hits the window with another audible tap.

With a sigh John slides his window open, shivering again as the wind sweeps in and seems to push any warmth that was once in the room out into the night.

The blonde leans out and scans the garden, looking for the figure again. He couldn't make out much beside what he already knew was out there.

"Hello?" John calls, keeping his tone low just in case his parents were on their way to the toilet or something like that.

"I..." The rest of the sentence gets lost to the light wind.

"What? Hello? Is someone there?" John calls, only slightly louder this time round.

The figure John had caught glimpses of steps forward, the rapidly lightening sky revealing their face to the blonde at his bedroom window.

"Sherlock? What the hell... It's three in the morning! ..And how do you even know where I live?"

John raises an eyebrow, more curious then angry. Sherlock was that one of those people that you accepted did odd things for seemingly no reason at all.

It's then John notices Sherlock's appearance. He looks different. He's not in his usual clothes, the one's he'd wear during 'The Game' as he called it.

Now he had on a black hoodie and some faded black jeans. John never thought he'd see Sherlock Holmes wearing a hoodie. He was always in tight shirt and jeans or trousers that showed off all his best bits and when the weather was colder John had seen Sherlock in a long coat but never had Sherlock wore a hoodie.

"I am aware of the time, John. I do own a watch" Sherlock replies with a verbal eye roll.

John almost flinches at the tone. He'd gotten so used to Sherlock's jokey, flirty side that it was like being hit when he reverted into his blunt, condescending side.

He could swear the boy had some form of a personality disorder. That or he just preferred to distance himself from people.

John snorts at Sherlock's words.

"Alright then, smart arse, why are you here at three in the bloody morning? And since when are you so chatty?"

John heard a sigh from the figure below.

"I came to tell you I'd help with your science, on one condition" Sherlock raises his head as he speaks, looking straight at John.

"Go on" John prompts, now interested.

He really did want good grades in all the sciences. Biology and Physics seemed to be fine but Chemistry just became a blur of symbols, reactions and atomic structures when he tried to wrap his head around it all.

God knows what may him take all three. Biology was the only one that truly interested him.

What use is Chemistry and Physics to an aspiring writer anyway?

Sherlock speaks again, abruptly cutting John's thoughts off. Unfortunately John didn't manage to catch Sherlock's conditions, far too wrapped up in his mental dialogue and thoughts. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was having trouble in Chemistry...

"Sorry? I didn't catch that. I'm still half asleep..." John played his lack of focus on his sleep deprived state, a decent save.

Although he could tell by Sherlock's face that the teen genius was no impressed.

"If I tutor you, you can not blank out like that, understood?" Sherlock pronounced the last word sharply, making it sound more like a demand then a question.

John nods quickly and leans further out the window, showing Sherlock he had his undivided attention.

"If I help you, you can't ask me anything about this situation with Jim. If you do, I won't help you get the grade you need to pass"

"Can I ask one question now?" John asks before thinking.

Sherlock purses his lips. "Fine. You ask but I cannot guarantee I'll answer.."

John nods, again before asking his questions.

"Why have you been ignoring the rest of us too?" The blonde questions after a brief moment of thought.

Sherlock's eyes widen noticeably, even from the distance between John and him. John can't help but chuckle, it was rare to see Sherlock so surprised.

No doubt Sherlock thought he'd ask what happened between the two boys. Yes, John did want to know what had happened to his friends but it was best not to pry, especially if their friendship was in the fragile state it appeared to be.

"I.. er.." Sherlock stumbles over his words, still a bit shocked. "I suppose it's easier. Ignore everyone, revert back into my mind p.. my mind. That way I can think it through, decide what to do, without other's influencing my opinion"

John hums, seeing the logical. "Sounds a bit lonely if you ask me, Sherlock"

"I didn't ask you" Sherlock snaps, and John can see how he desperately tries to bite back his angry tone.

Letting out a sigh, John looks up to the night sky. Silence envelopes them for some time but it's not entirely uncomfortable. More thoughtful then anything.

Like John had said. It was lonely. Reverting back into his head and not accepting the company of his friend, who stood before him. If John was in Sherlock's place, he'd had broken down by now. His thoughts always tended to have a slightly destructive nature and a second opinion always set him back on the right path.

John was sure that Molly Hooper was an angel sent down from heaven. She was always there to listen to people, be their shoulder to cry on. Even to seemingly emotionally detached people like Sherlock.

Not that the blonde had been told about what she did for him. Jim, Irene, Molly and Sherlock himself seemed to be the only ones to know and they sure as hell planned to keep it a secret.

John was content with that. The past was the past. It was the present Sherlock he worried over, despite being his friend (John wondered if he was even that) for just over a week.

"I don't want to fight with you" The blonde speaks up when the cold morning air begins to make goosebumps rise on his bare arms and sends an almost violent shiver down his spine.

"Feelings mutual" Sherlock somewhat mumbles.

John glances back at his bed, his body reminding him he needed much more sleep.

"We can start tomorrow after college if you like? We can come back here and arrange a time to meet weekly. Does that work for you?"

Sherlock nods and pulls up the hood on his hoodie. "That works. I'll see you tomorro-- later today, John. Goodnight-- Er, Good morning?"

John chuckles "See you later, Sherlock"

The dark haired teen disappeared after flashing a smirk and the blonde closes his window before climbing back into his bed for a few more well needed hours of sleep.

~

Wednesday lunch was so close to being normal that it was one hundred times worse then the awkwardness of Tuesday.

Sherlock sat rolling his fruit around while the rest of them made idle chitchat.

Just as the end of lunch was approaching Sherlock slides over a sheet of paper to Irene.

101, Dan from English. 102, Jenny (or maybe she was called Lily, but really... who cares?) from IT.

Irene frowns and opens her mouth to ask when she makes a sound of understanding and drops her gaze back to the paper. Typical of Sherlock to find a way to play the game and be in acting like a sulking five year old.

"Right.. so that's five for Sherlock. Then I've only gained half a point since Monday, that puts me at six and a half points. Jim?" Irene turns in her seat as she makes her calculations, facing the Irish boy and raising a perfectly shaped brow.

"Oh, er. Just Michael since Monday so.. that's six and a half for me too" Jim shrugs but Irene still spotted the usual competitive glint he got in his eye when he was neck and neck with one of them.

The girl with the ruby lips smirks. "The game is on"

"Hey!" Sherlock suddenly whines "That's my line"

Everyone around the table exchanges looks. All shocked Sherlock had spoken, even Sherlock seemed surprised.

Then, as though it were the natural course of actions and nothing was wrong, they all fell into an easy laughter.

For the first time that week, things felt almost whole. However, if you looked real close and squinted you'd see the glances Jim and Sherlock stole. One looking as guilty as sin. The other looking hateful.

Two guesses who.