30 Years Can Go By (Sequel to 60 Ways-ParentLock-BBC Sherlock)

Chapter Twelve

Hiya! im not going to burden you with a long intro so I just hope you enjoy reading this! keep in mind that i wrote this when i was really tired, so it might not completely make sense...

Vomment and fan!!!!

-BB

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Chapter 12

I was reading in our room. I could never read murder mysteries. I never got any enjoyment out of them because I could figure out what was going to happen far too quickly.

Instead, I read historical fiction books. It wasn't that I liked them very much, but they kept me busy most of the time.

"Sherlock!" John called me from the living room. "Can you come and help me find my wallet?"

I sighed. John was always losing things.

I stormed into the sitting room only to find that John had assembled a gigantic fort out of pillows and blankets.

"Number One," he explained.

"I would have helped," I told him.

"I wanted to surprise you," John smiled.

I ducked into the fort to find that he had set up a makeshift bed out of the mattress from upstairs, pillows, and a blanket.

John crawled into the fort after me.

"What do you think?" He asked.

"It's better than any fort I've ever seen."

"Yeah, well that's because this is our fort."

I laid down on one side of the mattress. John crawled up next to me.

"So what do we do in this fort?" I wondered.

"Well, we could do loads of things," John said, not being helpful.

"Do we just talk?" I asked.

"Well..."

"John the author's parents read these," I reminded him. (A/N-Yeah I broke that fourth wall. Hope you don't mind. And yes my parents do read these. And my grandma too

"Okay, fine. So what do you want to talk about then?" John asked.

"Remember that time at Buckingham Palace, John?" I smirked.

He blushed. "What about it?"

"Did you look?" I asked him.

"...No..."

"Yes you did."

"Okay I did. How could I not? It was funny! And you were being such a brat," John laughed.

"So what I'm hearing is that you checked out my butt because I was being a brat?"

"Oy, you shut up!"

I laughed.

Suddenly John went quiet, as if remembering.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"Did you...love Irene Adler?" He asked me.

I though I had dodged this conversation.

"I thought I did," I said.

"Well, did you not?" John began to sound jealous.

"No. Of course not. I think I just admired her. She was clever," I said. "But when I realized my feelings for you, I realized that what I felt for her was nothing close to love."

"Sherlock...all those years ago, I told you that she got into a protection program in America...I lied," John said uneasily.

I stayed quiet.

"Irene Adler was killed."

I shook my head.

"No, she's not," I said quietly.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry, but yes she is," John said. He though I was in denial now.

"No John. She was supposed to be beheaded, right? I went to the camp and I feigned a position as the executioner. I set her free," I explained to him.

"Are you sure that wasn't just a dream?" John asked. "Mycroft said he was sure."

"Yeah, well Mycroft was an idiot."

Somewhere, my brother rolled over in his grave.

"Well, where is she now? Do you know?" John asked me.

"No I'm not sure. I met her daughter once. She was at Hmaish's school. She told me that they had actually gone to America for a while then moved back here."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Well...it's just that she told me that she was gay..." John sounded confused.

"She wasn't. She's bisexual," I said.

"...Oh."

"She had her daughter, Sally, with a man, obviously, but then married a woman shortly after," I relayed the information that Sally had given me.

"That actually makes sense," John nodded.

"Does it?"

"Yes. She was in love with you," John stated.

"Yes."

We went silent for a moment.

I decided it was a time to change the subject.

"Did you always want to be a Doctor?" I asked him.

"No," John said. "I wanted to be a pilot. And before that I wanted to be a plane."

I snickered.

"What? I was three!" John argued.

"Oh, that's alright. I wanted to be a pirate," I confided in him.

"I know," he said shyly.

"Mycroft?" I guessed. John nodded.

"What did you want to be after a pirate?" He asked.

"I actually wanted to be a writer," I told him. I hadn't told that to anybody before now.

"Well, then tell me the story of the Airplane and the Pirate," John smirked.

"I don't tell stories, John," I said.

"You did with Hamish," he reminded me.

"Well that was different."

"No it's not. Just pretend that I'm Hamish," John suggested.

"John you know I love Hamish, but I can't say that I feel the same way about him as I do about you," I joked.

"Well that's good. Now tell me a story pirate boy," he said. He closed his eyes an leaned back on the pillow.

I sighed. "Once there was a tiny Airplane that wanted a place to call home and a Pirate with a ship but no crew. One day the pirate saw the plane flying in the air above his ship and told it to come down to meet him. The pirate liked the plane immediately and asked him to stay on his ship in exchange for companionship. The plane agreed because he didn't have anywhere else to go. Together they went on many adventures and became best friends. The End."

"What that's it?" John asked.

"I'm not feeling very creative."

"You would have been a crap writer," John informed me.

And for some reason that made me smile.