so hey all, sorry for the wait i've been having family issues. But alas I'm back thanks to Sarah for the edit. this is extra long because of the wait and i couldn't find a way to break it up nicely. Enjoy. (there is probably triggers for some of you be warned it's sexual assault if you are uncomfortable with that please don't read, i don't want to hurt any of you) follow and review please.
Sherlock hobbled down the front walk, wincing with every step. He wasn't about to cry but it was getting harder and harder not to. Sherlock shrank back as a hand grasped his good arm and began to help him limp on his unhurt knee. Sherlock looked up shocked to see Mycroft Leading him to the car.
"My? What are you doing?" Sherlock asked trying to sound brave but his voice trembled and cracked as he jostled his shoulder. "I don't know Sherly, I think i'm trying to help" he teased lightly trying to draw a smile from the five and a half year old. Sherlock only scoffed at the joke. The thought came to Sherlock and left his mouth before he could stop it. "Where were you last night?..."Sherlock began then trailed off. "I was trying to keep the gala running so father didn't have a reason to come back and hurt you again" Mycroft answered the unfinished question.
"While he beat me?" Sherlock spat venomously. Mycroft couldn't answer that, but he caught Sherlock's eyes and gave him a look that said everything. As they approached the Shiny Black BMW that Sherrienford had recently bought. "Get in." The boys father said sharply with a small twisted smile played on his face after seeing his limping son.
"Not you." he said sternly when Mycroft went to sit with Sherlock in the back seat. "But father, he need-" the slap was so out of the blue that Mycroft at 15 stood with his mouth agape as Sherrienford got in the car and drove down the gravel drive on the way to the hospital.
"This is your fault, love." Sherrinford stated plainly. 'love', that however twisted word gave Sherlock hope that his father loved him in a way he so craved. "love?" Sherrinford questioned, Sherlock replied quickly with "yes father." "This is your fault and you deserved every bit of pain you got and more." Sherlock lost all hope at that, he felt worthless as his father, the only male figure in his life, told him things that must be true. He thought, 'he's my father, he wouldn't lie to me'. Sherlock then had the thought put in his head, that must be how affection was shown. As Sherrienford kept talking about Sherlock needing to lie because others would misunderstand, how he loved him and would never truly hurt him.
They pulled into the hospital and then Sherlock couldn't remember as his father dragged him by his dislocated shoulder into the ER and got him "fixed up". The doctors had to reset both broken bones and then cast them. The doctors kept asking what happened and who did this, but his father gave him warning glances to keep quiet. He glared at his son with a look of disgust that made Sherlock feel terribly guilty.
"Mr. Holmes!" A soft feminine voice rang through the air as Sherrinford led his son out of the hospital on crouches. "Mr. Holmes, I need a word." The beautiful woman caught up with the pair. "What could you possibly need?" He questioned coldly. "Mrs. Sally." She reached her hand out to shake but she stopped as Sherrinford glared at her. "Hello Sherlock," she said gently and kindly as she crouched to his level "My name is Mrs. Sally, I need to talk to your dad. Is that all right?" Sherlock nodded timidly. "Good, I have a cube if you want." She said as she pulled a rubix cube from her pocket and gave it to Sherlock.
Sherlock ended up sitting on a bench as Mrs. Sally and his father talked a little ways off, far enough that Sherlock could only hear little bits of the conversation. "I'm going to get right to the point Mr. Holmes, your son displays all signs of abus-" "Preposterous. He tripped down the stairs." He interrupted sharply, but after that Sherlock couldn't hear anymore. He set to work on the cube. It would take 786 moves to solve properly as Sherlock saw them perfectly in his head, he set to work.
After nearly an hour of them talking Sherlock grew bored and walked up to Mrs. Sally. "Mrs. Sally?" He questioned quietly, pulling gently on her pant leg, "I've finished it." "Good, good. Sherlock? Can I have a moment alone with you?" It wasn't really a question but he could have refused, he nodded and Sherrienford stalked away looking utterly infuriated with his fist balled and face a dark shade of purple.
"Sherlock, no mater what he does or says, you are worth an infinite amount more then him. If he loved you in a way a father should he wouldn't hurt you in any way, that isn't okay, alright?" Sherlock was stunned as she talked fast like she had a million things to say in a short time. "Alrigh-" Sherlock caught himself as his father shot him a dirty look. "Thank you Mrs. Sally, but I don't know what you're talking about." She sighed and said "I know you do but you don't have to say if you can't, remember that you are not... stupid, worthless or anything other then perfect, remember that please for me?" Sherlock nodded as his father walked over to steer him back to the car. "Bye Mrs." Sherlock said as he was pushed roughly into the back seat of the car.
"You foul little brat." Sherrinford said as the car had pulled away from the curb. "Whatever she said, you are nothing and that will never change". Sherlock's heart hurt and his body ached as the man, who was suppose to love him, treated him as crap under his shoe.
'I deserve it', 'i'm worthless', along with many other things floated through his head as his father yanked him roughly from the car. He grabbed his hair and smashed him up against the car. "You will get much worse then broken bones if you misbehave."
He left Sherlock in the drive to limp back as he turned on his heels and stormed into the manor. Sherlock wandered through the manor to the library avoiding everyone in the house. He let one hand ghost over the spines of the books as he used one crutch to hobble around. He didn't realize he had started to cry until tears fell onto his hand, after the first tear fell he broke down curling up on the floor as he sobbed and retreated into his head. After he had run out of tears, he grabbed the nearest book of the shelf and began. It was a philosophy textbook, he read and read, then when he was done he grabbed more, and read until he fell asleep. When he woke, he read more, absorbing every word. At first he had difficulty with words only being five and a bit, but it got easier the more he read.
For weeks that was all he did. Reading until he passed out, then eating only when he had to, never leaving the library when he didn't need to. His cast came off and he still stayed there. He had found a small alcove in the rafters where he couldn't be seen, then brought blankets up to make it into a small nest.
Occasionally Sherrienford came into to find his son, usually drunk. He would beat Sherlock then leave, he never broke bones only beating.
On Sherlock's sixth birthday, Sherrienford came in around midnight. He seemed different then all the other times, the malicious intent in the air more potent then ever before.
"OHHHHHHHHH Sherly Com'here sonny boyyyyyy." He slurred quite drunkenly.
Sherlock ducked out of his nest knowing that delaying the beating would only make it worse, If only.
He smelt the stench of his father before he could see him, he stood submissively as his father leaned over him and pressed a hard kiss to his young son. Sherlock scared and uncomfortable, ducked out of the forced kiss and stood absolutely terrified. "You bastard, you can't do this to me, being all cute of the time," He said in a very slurred voice, "Don't think you can get away from me, I love you and this is for you" he barked out as he grabbed is child by the hair to drag him into one of the guest rooms.
Sherrienford removed all of his sobbing son's clothing then his own. He pushed his son onto the down comforter. Sherlock sobbed loudly until his father yanked him upwards then slapped him hard enough that his vision blurred and wouldn't focus again, his ears rang then his head went blank. He felt himself being pushed deeper into the mattress as his father pressed something hard and long against his back.
"NO" The muffled cry came as it finally clicked in what his father was pressing into his back.
He was roughly flipped over and his father punched him hard in the stomach just below the sternum, completely knocking the wind from him. He couldn't breath as his father pressed his hard erection into his mouth, he tried screaming out again but Sherrienford punched him again leaving no air for breathing, let alone shouting.
His father thrust into his mouth again and again until his penis throbbed and he stilled only to thrust deeply into his son's throat, as he reached his peak. Sherlock tensed as his father pushed deeper making him gag and convulse, the salty hot liquid ran down his throat and made him want to throw up.
His father got off the bed pulled on his cloths and left, stoping only to kiss his sons cheek.
After he was gone Sherlock stumbled of the bed grabbing his clothes and dashed to the bathroom, locking the door in time to violently vomit everything in his stomach into the toilet bowl. He threw up until his stomach was empty of everything, but he still felt dirty and disgusting from his father's hands all over him. He jumped into the shower and made it as hot as possible before scrubbing himself hard enough in the hot water to remove enough skin that in some places he bled, the pain made everything clear and brought him back from the brink of shear panic.
After he had burnt most of his skin, mildly leaving it bright pink and in some places bloody. He sat against the cold wall, hating himself, he cried himself to sleep in that place. When he awoke everything was blurry and offset. He ran to his room and pulled on clean cloths, throwing out the ones that his father had him on before.
He returned to his nest reading a book about memory techniques, the 'mind place' idea seemed very interesting so he decided he'd give it a try, the idea was to create a structure in your mind, then use it categorize every memory. So he set to work building his safe haven.