(A/N) Okay, first of all, I'm super sorry I haven't updated in a long time. There was just a lot of things going on, but on the plus side, I'm going to comic-con to meet David Tennant and Billie Piper and a whole lot of people. It's just super great okay. So yes anyways enjoy.

~The Day Before Christmas Break~

Sherlock's POV

"Now, class, don't forget to study for your test on anti-derivatives on the day you're back from break. Sherlock, pay attention, please." My eyes shifted from the clock onto Miss Panela's sharp facial features.

"Congratulations." A collection of groans came from behind me. I couldn't help myself.

"Excuse me?"

"On your baby."

"My baby-?! I don't- I'm not-"

"Yes, you are."

"Sherlock Holmes-!"

The last bell of this year finally rang, and I couldn't help but grin at the maths teacher's desperation.

A majority of the students stampeded the hallways to go home and celebrate their stupid holidays.

Christmas is a time of special importance marked by adherents to the religion of Christianity. Religion; something I did not prefer to occupy my time with.

I opened my locker to see yesterday's papers. TWO SERIAL SUICIDES. Of course it wasn't suicide. Even someone as stupid as London's police force could've noticed the obvious clues.

As I shut my locker, a voice came from behind me.

"Hi there, Sherlock."Greg Lesterade, 17, uninteresting.I had done his homework a few times during English because anything is better than having to listen to Professor Yendell's teaching. "So I was wondering, I mean, I know you don't really like this stuff, but I wanted to know if you'd like to come to a New Year's Eve party I'm hosting. But you know, only if you want to..."

"You're right."

"What?"

"I don't like parties. As a matter of fact, I'd rather do all your homework than socialise with extremely dull teenagers."

"Oh, alright, no hard feelings, okay. You can call me or something if you change your mind." He left just as quickly as he had arrived. Parties were beyond my concern. There were two serial suicides murders, and I wasn't going to waste a fantastic opportunity at a party.

I locked everything up in my locker and left the school with a stack of old papers. I struggled to keep them in my hands for they were constantly slipping out of different directions. My break was going to be full of studying. Not school related studying of course. Forensic studying. I knew that this year, there would be a lot more relatives on Christmas. This was mostly because they would offer us their condolences, which I, personally, would refuse. "I'm sorry" and "Are you okay?" did not necessarily make anything better. It was more of an act of pride and reputation rather than concern.

I pushed open the vast brass doors of the school, struggling to maintain the papers in order with one arm and attempting to keep the door open with the other. I then felt a hard shove from behind me, resulting in all the documents to go flying out the door.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, freak?"I turned back. Philip Anderson, 15, uninteresting.

I rolled my eyes. Neglected by family, bad grades, aggressive. Anderson, the captain of our school's football team, stood amidst the rest of his bland friends.

"Bullies" choose to attack their "victims" in groups; boosts their ego.

"I'm going home. I assume you haven't gone home in..." I paused to scan him. "Two days?"

He scowled. "Maybe it's because I have a life and a girlfriend- unlike you!"

I remained expressionless at his taunt. "A girlfriend? Not really my area. A life? Well, considering the circumstances of how I'm still breathing, I do believe I have a life."

He clenched his jaw. "So if a girl isn't your area- does that mean you're gay?!"The crowd behind him broke out in laughter.

"Actually, I prefer to not waste my time with useless people."

"So you are gay then?"

I sighed at his stupidity. "If you'll excuse me, halfwits, I'm going to do something useful with my life." I turned to collect what was left of the papers.

"What the fuck did you call me?!" Another shove came from behind me. I fell on my face only to hear a loud snap from my nose. Immediately, warm blood flooded the area.

I looked up to see that the group now had me cornered. With my luck, I was probably better off dead.

"STOP IT!" A voice yelled from behind them. I attempted to look past them, but my vision remained blurry.

This seemed to have scattered the lot. The figure ran towards me and became clearer; John .I blinked several times to reassure myself that I wasn't actually just hallucinating.

"Sherlock- oh god- Sherlock? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. Your nose is bleeding. Here, get up."

I looked at him for a moment until I noticed that my nose was still dripping blood. John led me out of the school as we walked in silence. All the papers that fell out of my head seemed to have been swept away with the December wind. The rest of the papers that remained in my grip were either ripped or stained with blood.

I didn't bother asking John where we were going. As a matter of fact, for once, I actually didn't know where we were going. He looked back once and winced, most likely at my nose. I didn't wipe it off with my sleeve; Mycroft would notice.

He looked back again, but this time he approached me. He pulled out a small kit from his pocket. Inside it ranged things from alcohol swabs to bandages. John pulled out a tissue and wet it to clean the mess around my nose.

3rd Person POV

"Oh, stop it." John broke the silence.

"Stop what?"

"You're being all mysterious and silent again."

"I don't see anything wrong, John."

"Hold still." John sighed. He brushed his finger around Sherlock's nose. "You're lucky. It's not broken."

Sherlock flashed him a timid smile.

"Look, Sherlock, Ceony and I broke up," he paused, hopeful for a reaction. "It's fine. It was going to happen anyways; we were drifting apart."

They began walking again. This time, Sherlock caught up to his pace.

"Okay, Sherlock. You were right. I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?" He couldn't help but grin at John's attempts of getting even a retort out of him.

"I'm always right."

"Alright, calm down there, Einstein. No need to get so ahead of yourself." And just like that, they slowly dissolved into laughter.

For years, Sherlock never had a genuine friend. He didn't have the experience of play dates or birthday parties as a child. But this time, although he was not yet aware of it, he had finally found his missing piece; and it was John.