A/N: You're probably thinking that this should not be rated T because Ora's all fluffy and innocent right now. I implore you to be patient, I am building up to the good stuff. Also, do not get offended. I, myself, am not straight, gay, or bisexual. I'm not fond of labels and I really don't go into any of the aforementioned sexualities. I mean no offense to anyone.
...
Being in secondary school and going through puberty is annoying. I've decided that the feelings thing is overrated and stupid. They keep going on about how guys are supposed to be attracted to girls. But I'm not. I don't understand. Girls are annoying and idiotic. They say that guys are supposed to feel a fluttering in their stomachs when girls they find attractive are around. I think Sebastian is attractive. But he's a guy and guys are supposed to like girls.
Mycroft says I like guys because I'm gay. He says that I should be careful because people look down on homosexual people. They're afraid of what they don't understand but it's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not stupid. Obviously there is a taboo on being gay. Otherwise he wouldn't warn me to be careful.
••••••
As I lay curled on the ground in an alley, I realize I should have listened to Mycroft more closely. Sebastian and several others from my school are kicking at me and saying things like "freak" and "psychopath." They hate it when I deduce things about me and now they know that I'm gay.
I can't feel my arms or legs. My vision is starting to fade when I hear a voice shout, "Oi! What do you think you're doing?! Get away from him." A familiar blonde stranger with blue eyes, who I can't quite place says softly, "What have they done to you?"
Strong arms lift me up and I can't help but yelp. The arms feel safe. The guy, who can't be much older than me and plays rugby, smells faintly of cinnamon and pumpkin. I bury my face in his ridiculous jumper, trying to get warm. He carries me to the street and hails a cab. "St. Bart's please"
He still hasn't remove his arms from around my shoulders. "Take it easy kid, let me see the damage." Gentle hands turned my face to look at him and a frown appeared. "They really did a number on you. Do you know why?"
I hung my head, his patient and gentle expression drawing the answer from me, and I said quietly, "Because I'm a freak and I'm gay."
"Being gay and being different are nothing to be ashamed of. I'm gay and so is my sister. People say things because they're afraid of the unknown. It unnerves them. Don't let it get to you." I looked at him warily.
•••••••
He brought me to the hospital and took me inside despite my protests. He seemed generally worried. So I went through an examination and by the time I had my ribs and wrist wrapped (which was a shame because that meant no violin), the familiar stranger had been dismissed by Mycroft. I hadn't even learned his name.