Chapter one:
Sherlock jogged down a dark street in London still in his ballet outfit. "Hello little ballerina" someone sneered from behind him. Sherlock rolled his eyes "What now Anderson?" he drawled spinning on heels. Anderson snarled at him.
Sherlock stumbled into his house with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a million other bruises and cuts. "Sherlock, dear are you alright?" his mother fussed about. "I'm fine!" he snapped pushing his way past her and up to his room. He mopped himself up in his bathroom. He strolled out glaring at the suitcase at the bottom of his bead.
Sherlock Holmes would be attending Baskerville Boarding School. Not at his request. Today was his last day at home, than he would go to the same school as his git older brother Mycroft. It didn't help that the awful kids who bully him all summer. He groaned and fell face first into his unmade bed.
"Wake up sweetheart!" his mother said in a sing song voice "It's your first day of school!" she flipped on his lights. "Can't I just stay in public school?" he whined. She pulled of his blankets "No! Now up!" she smiled, pulling him out of bed and pushing him towards the bathroom. He stumbled towards the bathroom half asleep.
Sherlock wandered out of the shower dripping wet and wrapped him in a warm fluffy towel. He walked out of the bathroom. His suitcase was gone but his ballet bag still on his bed. He quickly dressed in dress pants and a purple button down.
Sherlock walked down the stairs, his ballet bag slung over his shoulder. "Hello, brother mine. Will you be joining us for breakfast?" he sneered. "No."
"Sherlock what happened to your eye?" his father asked looking up from his paper.
"Nothing"
"Eggs dear?" his mother asked
"I'm fine with toast." He grabbed a buttered slice of bread from a plat on the dining room table. He turned on his heel and marched out of the room. He ate his toast in the hallway. His phone buzzed, and he cheeked it 'see you at Baskerville freak –PA' he frowned at his phone and ignored the message.
Sherlock's father pulled up outside of a large stone building. Sherlock jumped out of the backseat of the car (Mycroft was in the front). Sherlock opened the trunk grabbing his bags "See ya!" he waved over his shoulder and strolled away.
Sherlock was escorted to his room by a prefect, what was his name? Gavin…? Graham…? He couldn't remember. He walked into dorm 221b. It was small. It had two single beds, two dressers, and two desks; Sherlock took the right side of the room and started to unpack. He put all his books on top of the dresser (he wished the room had an adequate book shelf. He put his laptop on his desk, and his ballet bag hanging off the back of the chair. Then he unpacked his clothes.
When he was almost done unpacking the door opened. Sherlock turned around to see a short boy with sandy blond hair enter the room. He had a slight limp foot ball injury Sherlock deduced. Here on a foot ball scholarship, abusive father that only cares about his foot ball career, alcoholic sister, not many friends, happy to be away from home. "Hello I'm John Watson." The smaller boy held out his hand and smiled warmly. "Sherlock." He stated plainly ignoring john's outstretched hand.