A/N: I don't know a lot about the UK education system. Sorry if there is anything incorrect! Woodside High School is an actual school in London. I only looked it up for a name, so, again, sorry if things about the school incorrect.

"Wow, what a freak!" Teenage mocking echoed down the halls of Woodside High School. The teachers, of course, stood by with that unwavering talent to purposefully overlook the important things, which Sherlock Holmes pointed out to them frequently. Perhaps that was part of the reason why they did nothing. No one came to Sherlock's rescue. They all just stood in the distance, their cold, hateful neutrality adding to the pain he endured day after day.

Mycroft wasn't there to defend his little brother anymore, he had long graduated and was off to some University. Sherlock hadn't paid attention to which one he had left for, but it would be his third year at the University by now. Sherlock was only a Year Ten in high school.

Greg Lestrade was sometimes near Sherlock while he was being beaten, and would come over and try to convince the bullies to stop. They, in turn, would throw a punch or two at him. Greg would then lay low until the harassers were satisfied and, when they had left, offer Sherlock a hand with his scattered belongings. Sherlock was hesitant in accepting the offer of help, but was grateful for someone trying to intervene.

It's the best it will ever get, Sherlock thought to himself as he lie curled up on the cold, tile floor. At least he sort of had a friend. At this point, anyone who stood up for Sherlock in the slightest was considered…well, not an enemy. Acquaintance, he supposed, was a more appropriate word. Sherlock would sometimes nod at Greg in the halls, silently thanking him for the risks he would take once in a while in attempts to save him. This was as close as Sherlock believed he would get to friendship. It was good enough for him. At least, before he met John.

"Alright, students!" Mrs. Hudson stood in the front of the room, trying to get the rowdy teens' attention. With no luck, it would seem. She sighed and looked down at the rather short boy whose shoulder she rested her hand on. "It's ghastly, this class, isn't it?" The boy nodded shyly and kept his head down.

Sherlock watched his boisterous classmates with a hateful scowl from the back of the class. He had taken the liberty of moving his desk a few feet away from all the others surrounding him. It almost seemed like he believed there was an infectious disease among his despicable associates.

Sherlock kept a keen eye on the new face in the front of the room, though it was mostly hidden. The short boy embraced by Mrs. Hudson's arm had stared only at the ground since he had arrived in class. Shame? No, his lips weren't tucked in. Nervous? Most likely. His right foot dancing slowly on the dirty tile below it only reinforced this note. His cheeks were flushed a light pink. Embarrassment? No, that was still the nervousness… Sherlock observed the new boy's eyebrow. …and anger? Why would he be angry? Did someone pick on him already? Sherlock's eyes moved towards his hands. On one side was a clenched fist, the other futzed continuously with itself. Sherlock finally nodded in conclusion. The new boy didn't want to be here, and for more reasons than it being a new school.

"Hey, be quiet, Mrs. Hudson's trying to talk!" Anderson shouted.

"Shut yer trap, Andy!" a girl in the middle of the room mocked. Anderson looked with his jaw dropped at the girl. "Don't gimme that look, yer a suck up n' you know it-"

"Am not!" Andy retorted.

"Are too!" the girl chuckled like most girls do when they're in a fake fight with their boyfriends.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am n-"

"Hannah, Anderson is cheating on you." Sherlock interjected loudly. The entire class turned to the skinny boy in the back corner of the room who was still wearing his winter coat, like always. His bold statement even caught the ear of the boy in the front of the room; he raised his head up to see what was going on.

Anderson tried to cover himself. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Ask Anderson where he was last night, Hannah." Hannah looked questioningly at Sherlock, then at Anderson.

"Andy…" She said slowly.

"This is ridiculous!" Anderson's voice became agitated.

"Or, if he doesn't remember, just ask Sally Donovan." Sherlock concluded. Hannah shot evil looks at her boyfriend.

"You were going to her house, I knew it!" she spit out.

"Hannah, he's lying. Come on, you don't honestly believe him, do you?"

Sherlock interrupted their argument to add to the chaos, "If you don't believe me, believe the smudge of blue mascara on his shoulder." He looked sarcastically toward the soon-to-be-broken-up-couple, "We all know who only uses blue mascara in this school, don't we?"

The classroom erupted in bickering, and Sherlock slunk back into his seat, ready to observe the madness he had created with one simple observation. He caught the new boy's eyes. The boy was holding back a laugh, his amusement barely containable. Sherlock smiled deviously and closed his eyes. If he couldn't get them back for his pain physically, the least he could do is call them out on their not-so-well-hidden secrets. They were fairly easy to call out. They seemed obvious to him. Apparently they weren't so obvious to anyone else, and that's what made him the freak.

"That's enough!" Mrs. Hudson raised her voice with a motherly tone. The class hushed immediately. The boy quickly lowered his head. Mrs. Hudson cleared her throat and uttered a quiet apology for yelling. "Will you take your seats, please?" They obeyed.

"Now," she returned to her soft, calming voice. "As I was trying to say, we have a new student today. Everyone meet John Watson. Go on, say hello."

"Hello, John." The class uttered in dull unison. John didn't look up. He only breathed relatively faster and tapped his foot a bit more quickly. No one else seemed to notice, but Sherlock kept watching every move John made with a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

"We're only a few weeks in, so it shouldn't be too hard for him to catch up if you all help him out. Make him feel welcome here." The class nodded without interest.

"There's an open desk right there, John. Go and have a seat." Mrs. Hudson smiled at the quiet blonde boy. John moved through the columns of desks towards the back of the room. He ignored the stares he knew he was getting from all across the room and didn't make eye contact with anyone. John finally settled into the desk next to Sherlock's. Although, it wasn't quite beside him, seeing how Sherlock had separated himself from the rest of the class.

John glanced over at Sherlock a few times before Mrs. Hudson got into her English lesson. When she was far into the lesson, too far to notice any exchange between students, she was so enthusiastic, John scribbled on a piece of paper and tossed the folded note to Sherlock. Sherlock curiously unraveled the paper and read it.

That was fantastic.

Sherlock assumed John was referring to the sarcastic rouse a minute ago. Sherlock took out his own pen and jotted a response. This went on for about a minute before the bell rang for the next period.

It seemed the fastest way to get them to shut up.

It worked amazingly.

I can't stand those kinds of couples.

Me either. Repulsive.

Obviously.

After reading the last of the note, John looked back and smiled. Sherlock smiled back.

This is my first High School AU, so please be gentle :3 Thanks for reading! Much more to come