Rules Have To Be Obeyed
"Eat up now." "Yes, Sir," Sherlock said. He had given up on disobeying his older brother. The electric collar around his neck seemed to know even when he THOUGHT something wrong in front of Mycroft. And he had been punished before. Sherlock could endure quite a bit of pain, but the electric shocks the collar caused when Mycroft pushed a button on his wrist band cause pain beyond everything Sherlock could even think of. He had even BEGGED for it to stop once. Maybe it was good that his parents had not been alive to witness this. Even though Mycroft claimed that they would have approved of his way of educating his younger brother. But Sherlock couldn't remember how his parents had been like. He had deleted his memory in a desperate attempt to create more space for important information. Now there was no more important information. There was nothing in this world for him.
"Show me your arms," Mycroft commanded. His brother complied. The last time he had cut himself had been weeks ago. Punishment for hurting yourself was even harder than for refusing to eat. After he had finished his meal, Sherlock went back up into his flat. In the bathroom, he put his finger into his mouth and got rid of the calories which slowed his body down. His brother still had to find out about this trick. He had installed cameras all over the flat, but not in the bathroom, as Mycroft was very fond of 'decency'. In fact, he often told his younger brother how fortunate he was that he hadn't been raped yet. This also was a common punishment for misbehaving omegas. But Mycroft only used every other form of corporal and psychological punishment he could think of.
Sherlock snorted at that. Sooner or later he would (die) faint and then Mycroft would either have to watch him in the bathroom or give up on his form of "education". Sherlock lay down on his sofa, staring at the ceiling. When he had realized that there wasn't a way round learning an omega's duties, he had learnt them all in a fortnight. Now that he knew everything about cooking, sewing and child care which was humanly possible, he had all the time in the world until his brother would find a suitable alpha for him.
But Sherlock didn't care about free time any more. He just waited for the time to pass until he would finally be allowed to sleep. And then face another day. And another. And another. Maybe his alpha would be weak and it would be possible to escape from him. Maybe not. Sherlock had almost given up hope. Since their parents had died, Mycroft had been his legal guardian. And he had used his power ruthlessly. Coming "off age" hadn't helped either, even though Sherlock had managed to keep the inevitable off as long as possible. But at 21, his body had finally started to give off omega hormones and had almost driven Sherlock crazy for 5 days, 7 hours and 21 minutes. Since then, his heats had come regularly and had sometimes lasted even longer. Sherlock hated his body for betraying him like that. Almost as much as he hated the "toys" they had given him to easy the pain.
A knock on the door disturbed him in his thoughts. "Come in," Sherlock barked. He didn't want to risk a snidy remark and get punished for something that stupid. The door was pushed open and in came a man Sherlock had never seen before. He was gangly and a bit taller than average height, but his eyes were everything else than average. They were of a soft brown and Sherlock felt like he could fall right into them. Most omegas had beautiful eyes, but the younger Holmes had never seen such intensity in them.
Besides, the man didn't look like an omega. He had soft, full lips and brown, unruly hair, but he seemed to have purpose. His clothes also gave the impression more of an alpha than of an omega: He was wearing a long brown coat over a blue suit, complete with white shirt, red tie… and red sneakers. No omega would be allowed to wear those shoes to such an outfit! But then alphas usually were very aware of fashion… There was always the possibly of a beta, but the way this man moved…
"Hey there," the man said, "you don't know where I can find Mycroft Holmes, can you?" Sherlock snorted. He had come to see his brother, of course. "It's just because," the man went on, "I have a bone to pick with this guy. I don't like the way he treats people. In fact" - at this the man looked up and right into the eye of the nearest camera - "if I see him 'punish' another omega within the next 24 hours, I will make sure that he knows what the word punishment really means."
Sherlock could only stare at him. "Who are you?" "I am the Doctor." "Doctor Who?" "The very same," the Doctor said and smiled at Sherlock, "and I came here to take you away from here. " "Where to?" "Does that really matter?, " the Doctor asked with a frown. "No, I suppose not. But if there are alphas wherever you are taking me, you can spare yourself the trouble and leave me here," Sherlock explained. "Fine then," the Doctor said, "I'll take you somewhere where there are neither alphas nor omegas. You're coming now?" "What are you?, " Sherlock asked, "Some crazy alpha who wants to have me for himself without my brother's permission? Mycroft will never let this happen. "
The Doctor's gaze suddenly became soft. "Oh I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. You really don't know anything else, do you? But I'm not like you and I'm not like him. I'm from far, far away, and I know a place where all humans are equal - well, almost equal. And I will certainly not ask your brother for permission to take you there. " Sherlock, who was still trying to deduce anything from the Doctor's appearance, said: "Well, you will have to; otherwise we will not get rid of this." He motioned at his collar.
The Doctor smiled again and his eyes where gleaming with mischief. He put something out of his pocket which looked remotely like a screwdriver, moved closer to Sherlock and held the device in front of the collar. The screwdriver-thing made a buzzing sound; the collar opened and fell onto the sofa. Sherlock held his breath, but nothing happened for an entire minute. There was no pain and if he could get out of here alive there never would be again.
He looked at the Doctor in amazement, feeling something like hope for the first time in years. "Can you break the cameras with this as well?" "Of course," the Doctor said, doing so with all of the cameras in the two-room apartment, finding every one without fail. However, loud footsteps and voices on the stairs soon put a damper on Sherlock's new found hope. "They are coming," he said, his eyes going wide with fear.
"Don't worry," the Doctor assured him, "I have fought off worse than a few alpha guards. But then we could just leave through the window, of course." "We are on the third floor!," Sherlock shouted, close to panic, "Do I look like Marry Poppins to you?" "Nice thought, we could borrow your brother's umbrella," the Doctor remarked, "but it's even easier. I've parked the Tardis directly under the window. With the open door facing up. God, will she complain tomorrow."
Sherlock stared at him, not understanding a word coming out of the Doctor's mouth. "You have parked what how?" The Doctor chuckled and opened the window next to Sherlock's sofa. "You will see, come on." Sherlock hesitantly got up and looked out of the window. Directly under him, there was the gaping door of a… blue box. He frowned and remarked: "Even if we survive the fall, how on earth should this stupid little box help us?"
"Oi, don't let her hear that!," the Doctor said. The steps and voices were coming closer. "Come on, just jump," the Doctor said, "It will be fine, you will see. Just trust me!" Sherlock certainly didn't trust this strange man with the beautiful eyes, but he imagined dying in a little blue box after jumping from the third floor couldn't be worse than Mycroft's punishment for removing the collar. The moment the door was thrown open, he jumped.
