Sherlock Holmes walked home, his hands jammed into the pockets of his black hoodie, his eyes down, his books tucked under one arm. His black hair was ruffled by the crisp autumn air.
Behind him, at school, John Watson was looking for his friend. They had only been friends a few weeks, but the boys rubbed along well, and John found himself caring greatly for the well being of his friend. Both boys had parents who worked from 12 in the afternoon to 12 at night, so their homes were unoccupied for quite some time after school. They often hung out and talked. John would laugh at the amusing little facts Sherlock revealed about their classmates. But there was always something brooding about Sherlock. He looked sad when he thought John couldn't see.
But not today. today Sherlock seemed to have left without him. He was about halfway toward the bus when he heard someone laughing about what someone had written on Sherlock's locker.
John walked back into the building, seeking out Sherlock's locker, until he found it, the graffiti scribbled there, black and stark against the sickly tan metal.
KILL YOURSELF FREAK
John shook his head "Shit"
He sprinted away, ignoring the buses, beating the path to Sherlock's house.
Sherlock sat in his bathroom, sitting on the floor. The dismantled bits of shaving razor were spread across the ground in front of him. His fingers were cut from prizing the blade out of the piece of plastic that made it safe. His shaking right hand held it over the scars, some old some new, on his left wrist.
He shook violently.
A tear streaked down his cheek.
John Watson ran to Sherlock's front door, and pounded on it "Sherlock? Sherlock? SHERLOCK?"
Kneeling alone in the stark bathroom light, Sherlock looked down at his shaking hand.
John muttered "Screw this", tried the handle, found it was locked, and kicked down the door. He ran straight into the house. "SHERLOCK"
He saw the bathroom door and pounded on it "Sherlock open the door…Open the door Sherlock"
Sherlock's bluegreen eyes were filled with tears, but his voice was quite steady.
"Go away John"
"Don't listen to them Sherlock, please don't listen to them they aren't worth it you KNOW that"
"John please…"
"SHERLOCK! It doesn't matter what they think! We're friends yeah?"
"Yeah…"
"Why would I lie to you? Come on Sherlock…just open the door."
The lock clicked.
John swung the door open, and immediately fell to his knees beside his friend. He eased the razor out of his hand and threw it across the room. He pulled Sherlock Holmes into his strong arms and murmured softly
"Sherlock I'm here…I'm always here…I'm never letting you go"
Sherlock Holmes cried into his friends shoulder…and believed him.