Me: My first Sherlock fic! I hope you enjoy the story!
Disclaimer: I do own nothing— all the drama and tears belong to Mr. Moffat and (did I spell that right?)
~Pokemon67 wishes to apologize in advance for any and all grammatical errors. No excuses, only that she is a horrible proof reader.~
Sherlock threw himself down on his bed. He was bored. Oh, so bored. Victor had a cold so he couldn't come out and play, leaving Sherlock with nothing to do. Very inconsiderate of him, Sherlock thought.
He sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach. Then he heard something. He sat up straight for a moment, trying to identify the sound.
It was a violin.
Euros had become increasingly restless. She was only six, but had already reached fifth grade work and was flying through it. Their mother had been desperate for something that would present a challenge to Euros, something to distract her and keep her from going though Mycroft's high school books. So she and their father had decided to get Euros violin lessons.
Euros had only been playing for a couple of months now, but she was already very good. Her teacher was very impressed with the little genius, and their mother was happy that no matter how fast Euros mastered the violin, there would always be plenty of music for her to play.
Sherlock sat quietly on his bed, listening to his sister's instrument. His eyes wondered to the small black case on his dresser, identical to the one in Euros' room. Their mother had bought two violins, one for Sherlock and one for Euros, because she thought Sherlock might feel left out if his younger sister got something that he didn't.
At first, Sherlock had been thrilled. He loved the look of the violin. He liked the feel of the wood and was so impressed that such a small thing was capable of making such pretty music all on its own. But, then Sherlock realized he'd have to converse with a teacher.
The Holmes children were all homeschooled. At one point, they were all in private school together. Mycroft had been going there ever since third grade, when he finally confessed to his mother that the kids at the public school were ''intolerably stupid.'' When Sherlock was old enough, he was sent there too, as was Euros. But even in the private school, the Holmes kids were above their classmates. Mycroft knew this from the beginning, but as he knew the school was expensive, he decided he'd just have to bare with it. Sherlock, however, was surprised at how slow the other kids were, even after Mycroft warned him. That's when Sherlock's troubles began.
Sherlock had always been encouraged by his parents to be inquisitive and excited about learning. They told him he was smart and that he had a gift for learning things quickly.
So Sherlock didn't understand why the teacher hated him.
His teacher— Ms. Dawn— hated that Sherlock was so ahead of the class. ''You shouldn't ask questions like that'', she snapped whenever he asked questions that were outside the curriculum. ''You shouldn't know about that,'' she'd scold him when he added a fact about the subject they were learning. Sherlock soon deduced that teachers only wanted kids to know what they were telling them, nothing else.
But the teacher didn't stop there. She would pick on Sherlock, complain about his messy handwriting, demanding he redo whole worksheets in a neater print. She'd always make him clean the black bored, or straighten up the toys the the other kids used. During recess, Sherlock preferred to read as opposed to play, and the teacher would take away his books, saying they ''Were beyond him'' and ''Inappropriate for a child his age.'' Sherlock was miserable, but he didn't say anything to his parents because, like Mycroft, he knew how hard his parents were working to keep them in that school.
That's why Sherlock detested teachers. When Euros attended school, she finally brought the truth to their parents about how horrible it was.
''It's too easy,'' she complained. ''Ms. Dawn is horrible and wouldn't let me read my book during recess.''
''Oh, I'm sure she just wanted to make sure you were listening to the other subjects,'' their mother said.
Euros shook her head. ''I'm not going back.''
''Euros! You only went once,'' their father said. ''At least make it through the week to see if you like it, okay?''
Euros made it through two more days before she lashed out, bitting Ms Dawn's hand.
She told her parents how Ms. Dawn treated her. ''And I was trying to be good, like you said, but then she said how she wasn't going to tolerate another stuck up Holmes and I knew she was taking about Sherlock, so I bit her!''
When confronted, Sherlock confessed that his new teacher was just as bad as Ms. Dawn had been, and as Euros declared she was never setting foot in another school, their mother decided to quit her work and homeschool them. She asked Mycroft whether or not he wanted to stay in school, and he decided he wanted no part of the establishment that called Holmes' stuck up.
So that is why Sherlock hated teachers. He didn't want to learn violin if it meant he had to deal with a teacher. Even though his parents assured him that this teacher wasn't like his old school teachers, and if he was uncomfortable he could change his mind, Sherlock decided he didn't want to risk it.
''Don't worry, Sherlock,'' Euros tried to persuade him. ''If she's really bad, I'll just bite her!''
But Sherlock didn't budge.
Sherlock sighed as he turned away from his violin case. He really did want to know how to play it, but he didn't want to deal with a stranger, even if they were different from his other teachers. He continued to listen as Euros played, closing his eyes and imaging her fingers dance across the strings, as he had seen so many times.
Sherlock jumped off his bed, suddenly seized with an idea. Maybe he could play the violin without needing a teacher. He had watched Euros play, why couldn't he just imitate her?
Sherlock opened his violin case and grabbed the instrument and its bow. He remembered seeing Euros put something on the bow before using it. After digging around in the case, he found a little box with some sort of rock like thing inside. Sherlock hastily applied it to the bow, excitement stirring inside him.
He picked up his violin and stood on a chair in front of his dresser so he could see himself in the mirror. He tried mimicking how Euros held the violin. My, it felt awkward. This couldn't be right. Sherlock adjusted the violin under his chin. There, a little better.
Sherlock carefully, as if afraid to break the strings, slid the bow over the violin. He grinned when its slightly disjointed sounds came out. He was playing the violin.
He moved his bow and hands how he remembered Euros doing it, trying to get his fingers to dance like her's did. A few minutes passes before he realized just how much pain his neck was in from holding the violin and had to stop playing.
''You're doing it wrong.''
Sherlock turned in surprise at the voice, nearly falling off his chair. Euros stood in the door way, her violin in one hand, her bow in the other. ''What?''
''You're doing it wrong,'' she repeated, entering the room. She put her instrument down on his bed before dragging another chair next to Sherlock. She climbed up. ''Relax,'' she said, taking hold of the violin under her brother's chin. ''You don't need to hold on so tight.''
Sherlock lifted his chin, noticing in the mirror the imprint the chin rest left. ''And you're holding your bow wrong,'' Euros continue, Laying down Sherlock's violin on the dresser. She got off the chair to retrieve her own instrument from the bed, and climbed back up on the chair, putting her violin down and holding her bow in front of Sherlock so he could see. ''Look, you kinda have to claw your hand…''
The afternoon was spent on Euros fixing Sherlock's posture and showing him the basic pieces in her first violin book, which she retrieved from her room. By the end of their session, they could play the first couple of pieces together as a duet.
After that, every afternoon was spent with a few hours of violin practice, sometimes with Victor as spectator. It wasn't long before Sherlock caught up to Euros, and their teaching sessions took place after Euros' own lessons. But every day they would play together, sometimes coming up with short pieces of their own. It was perfect.
Me: Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review!
Happy Writing!