Hey guys, thank you for clicking on this and checking out this fic! This is my first full length fic I have written, and I would so appreciate reviews! I plan on publishing once a week, and I have about 7 chapters already written, so I should be able to keep this story published regularly. Hope you all enjoy!
TRIGGER WARNING: Child Abuse
The whip collided once again with his bruised, bloody black, as he cried out so the room filled with the echo of his screams. "I'm sorry Papa! I'm sorry" the young boy declared through his tears.
"Sorry won't bring your mother back or your brother home!" the older man yelled angrily as he threw the whip down on the ground. With a loud crack, it laid still next to the boy, as the man stride across the bare cellar to a cabinet in the corner. The boy slowly opened his eyes and turned to look at the cuts. They formed an X, all over his black, almost looking like a plaid design. He heard the cabinet doors slam shut, a now normal cue to turn his head back around and close his eyes in agony once again. By now though, his back went numb and he couldn't feel the whips. But he could feel the heat radiating from his father's hands.
"Let me teach you exactly who you are. Put you into your proper place in the world." he said, the boy hearing the smirk in his tone. Then, in a flash, he could feel his back again. And it was on fire. He was being braised on his already broken skin. His father knew this could cause the scar to last forever. He screamed at the top of his lungs, tears flowing like the ocean down his face. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, the fiery pain lessened. The pain didn't stop though, The boy turned around and saw exactly what now laid forever in his back: "FREAK", in big capitol letters.
Sherlock woke up covered in cold sweat, panting as if he ran the outside perimeter of London. The nightmares of his childhood are happening more and more since the incident at St. Barts. John was the way the nightmares were fading. But now that John thinks that he's dead, there's no way for him to help. The only person he could reach for comfort is Molly, but she's out at the morgue working. Mycroft, well that wouldn't happen. He left him alone during this dark time, he could never forgive him. He laid his head back down and started to regulate his breathing. Fear has started taking over his brain since the fall, as him and Mycroft take down the rest of Moriarty's empire. They're down to the last five, including his second-in-command, Sebastian Moran. That also means getting closer to the moment he dreamed of but also feared for: his reunion with John. All he's wanted since the beginning is to be back with his blogger, yet he knew things will have changed over the three years he's been "dead". The real question is, why does the abuse from his dad have to do with his troubles now?