Disappearing Act 3
Schools are real. The policies and people…not so much. But I know schools do this! That is all.
Jaimey, Mikhail, and Ms. Annie © Me
John half ran down the hall towards the nurse's office, Sherlock right behind him. He stopped in the door and stared. Jaimey sat in a chair and was nursing a swollen cheek that was already beginning to bruise and a cut lip, the deerstalker clutched tight in his little fist. Another boy far worse off and still being tended to by the nurse, sat on the exam table. He had a wet rag pressed to his face and his head tilted back because of his bloody and probably broken nose, his eye had already swelled shut, and from the pack of ice on the back of his head, was growing quite the goose egg. The boy had to have been at least two years older and 40 lbs. heavier than Jaimey.
The Headmistress was standing in the corner, but John ignored her for the time being and rushed over to Jaimey. "James! Are you okay?" John asked worriedly and kneeled down to give Jaimey a doctor's once-over for more wounds. That's how Jaimey knew his father was really worried; John only ever called him James when he was worried.
"I'm fine daddy." Jaimey said, preparing to wince as his father's calloused fingers brushed over his cheeks. But the wince never came as his father's cool fingers were lighter than feathers.
"Are you sure?" John looked into his son's clear blue eyes.
Jaimey nodded and smiled, even though it hurt his lip. "Positive dad."
Headmistress Denuta stepped forward but John still didn't look at her. Sherlock could see the distaste in her eyes, clear as her resentful sneer, But she quickly composed herself as she spoke. "Dr. Watson, we need to discuss what happened."
"Yes, what did happen?" John asked.
"Well, it appears to be—" Headmistress Denuta began but Jon cut her off.
"I'm sorry," John said with a very familiar expression on his face. Sherlock recognized it as the expression John used to use when somebody insulted him: no mercy, no compassion. "But I would rather hear what happened from my own son's mouth." Denuta closed her mouth with a snap and John turned back to Jaimey. "What happened son?"
Jaimey huffed and sat back in his chair. "I was trying to remember the correct physics formula I could use to get an apple from the tree in the yard when Bryan," he glared daggers at the other boy, who returned the look as best he could, "came over and pushed me. He said you murdered Mum cause you're a "faggot" and tried to take the deerstalker." Jaimey's sneer turned smug. "So I tackled him to the ground and started punching him. S'not my fault he cracked his head on the concrete."
Sherlock had to bite his fist to keep from laughing out loud at what Jaimey said. In truth, eh would have done the same in Jaimey's situation. The boy seemed to have inherited his dad's fierce loyalty and would do anything to protect those he latched onto.
The nurse finally moved away form Bryan. The boy started to tell his side of the story. "Yeah, yeah, so I teased him a little." He said, slightly muffled from the cloth. "Besides, it's true aint it?" Shelock felt himself disliking this kid more and more. Then again, it probably wasn't exactly his fault. Kids tended to repeat what they heard their parents said, and whatever this kid's parents were saying about John wasn't good.
Ms. Denuta spoke, "Dr. Watson, this is the first offence but I'm sorry to say we won't be asking Jaimey back next term. If it weren't so close to break well…" She shrugged, as though to say there was nothing more she could do.
John gritted his teeth. "What? You can't do that!"
Headmistress Denuta's expression, which had been one of faked sympathy, turned cold. "I'm afraid I can. Your son has caused lasting damage to—"
"Lasting damage? I've had worse injuries from walking into a door!"
"Nevertheless, your son broke school rules and harmed another student."
"What about all those times last year that Jaimey came home with bruises from the other boys? I don't recall you making near as much a fuss then."
"That did not happen on school grounds. This did; out in the yard." John clenched his fists but knew there was nothing he could do. Ms. Denuta continued. "Of course, Jaimey will be allowed to finish the rest of the term. But after the holiday, I'm sorry to say he cannot return. I do suggest however, that you take James home early today" She said it in a way that implied it was not a suggestion at all.
"Fine," John spat and held out his hand to Jaimey, "Come on Jaimey." Jaimey bounded off the chair and took his father's hand.
But as soon as they were out of earshot, Jaimey let go and turned to Sherlock. "Will you pick me up, Sherlock?" He asked and stretched his arms upwards.
Sherlock grinned down at the boy. "Sure kiddo." He scooped the small boy into his arms.
John was surprised. Jaimey normally didn't like being held by anyone but John, not even his mother. He was generally very shy as well, but he seemed to have taken to Sherlock like glue.
"Daddy?" Jaimey asked. From his position in Sherlock's arms, he was as tall as John.
"Yes Jaimey?"
"I'm sorry I got expelled. I shouldn't have hit Bryan. But I just couldn't stand what he was saying about you."
John smiled lovingly at his son. "Its alright Jaimey. I probably would have done the same."
Jaimey smiled, but Sherlock could see he was still upset. "But did you see the damage you did to that kid? And he was at least two years older than you!" He asked, in only barely faked astonishment.
Jaimey giggled. "Yeah! Bryan's the school bully, so I hope I got to knock him down a peg or two. And I punched him just like you taught me to Dad!" John beamed proudly at his son. They were all laughing as they drove home.
But later that night, after Jaimey had gone to bed, Sherlock found John slumped in his chair. He looked defeated and nothing like the John Watson Sherlock knew.
"John?" He asked gently.
"I don't know what I'm going to do Sherlock. None of the schools around here will take Jaimey. Not now. And I hear them, all the time, whispering. They all think I killed Mary. Even the police. You know that kid Bryan? His dad is the Chief Inspector. I don't think we can stay here anymore." John's head dropped into his hands.
Sherlock sat in the chair opposite him and turned over something he'd been thinking about since that morning.
"Is Mrs. Hudson still renting out 221b?"
XXX
Of course she was. Not that there had been many renters since Sherlock and John. A few people had wanted to see the flat, but mostly just to see where Sherlock Holmes had once lived. Now, Mycroft paid the rent so he could keep Sherlock's stuff there.
So, a week later, after Mrs. Hudson had returned from Wales, Sherlock and John went to see her. She'd nearly had a heart attack when she saw Sherlock, but began reprimanding him for making her worry almost immediately. John hadn't realized until then how much he missed her and her motherly ways. They discussed living back at 221b; there was a bedroom upstairs across from John's old room for Jaimey and the boys could go back to their old rooms. Of course, Mrs. Hudson made the assumption that they wouldn't be needing John's old room. They'd both rushed to correct her, but the knowing gleam in her eye never waned.
After a few minutes of catching up, Mrs. Hudson didn't care how or why Sherlock had faked his death just that he was home, Sherlock slipped outside for a smoke. Mrs. Hudson poured John more tea and after a moment of watching him watch the door, she huffed and gave him a look that said clearly "Go after him" in nine different ways.
When John closed the door, he saw Sherlock leaning against the wall, a cigarette pressed firmly between his lips. John stepped towards him. "I thought you quit."
Sherlock smirked and took a long drag. "I didn't have you to keep me calm and clean. I needed something." Another drag and then a pause. Sherlock stared at the fag in his fingers. "But this is my last one." He flicked the half burned cancer stick onto the sidewalk and ground it beneath his heel. "Cold turkey. I won't smoke around Jaimey."
John smiled disbelievingly at Sherlock and had the rather sudden urge to hug him. Instead, he said, "Thank you. It's like when Mycroft made Greg quit when they adopted Mikhail."
"Who?" Sherlock asked, looking at John.
John stared at him. "…You're joking, right?"
Sherlock shook his head slowly, still looking confused. "No…"
"Greg and Mycroft's son? Your nephew? The boy they adopted from Russia nine years ago."
"Oh right! I've got one of those now, don't I?"
"You couldn't remember you have a nephew?"
"I'm not exactly used to having one alright?"
"They've had him longer than I've had Jaimey!"
"So? It's not like I've ever met the kid! Mycroft told me they were adopting and that was that."
"Wow…"
They watched the cars pass along the street. After a few minutes, John spoke again. "If we move back here, where is Jaimey going to go to school?"
XXX
"Why, at Abercorn with Mikhail of course!" Mycroft said over lunch two weeks later. "Mikhail can keep an eye on Jaimey, like I used to for you, Sherlock."
Sherlock chose to ignore his brother's sugary smirk. "I'm rather surprised you chose Abercon. I though you'd pin him for King Solomon."
Mycroft grimaced. "Solomon is too much like our old school. I was not exposing him to that kind of environment."
Sherlock grimaced in his turn. "That bad?"
"Perhaps not to the same degree, no ambassadors kids at the very least, but with the same over emphasis on achievement at any cost. I didn't want Mickey to go through the same Hell we did."
"Did you just call him "Mickey"?" Sherlock asked, his eyebrows rising to meet his hairline.
John and Greg exchanged looks. "Were your school days really that bad?" John asked.
Mycroft looked at him. "You've never gone to school with diplomat's kids." His attention shifted back to is brother. "And just what is wrong with "Mickey"?"
Sherlock stared at John as well. "They're preparing to go into the diplomatic corps. They need the best grades and are vicious about it." Sherlock focused on his brother again. "It's weird. You were never one for nicknames."
But further Holmes brother banter was interrupted as Jaimey and Mikhail came back in from playing in the garden.
XXX
The front door slammed and John looked up from packing as Jaimey rushed into the living room, backpack bouncing off his small shoulders.
"Where's the fire, kid?"
"Dad, dad, dad, guess what, guess what, guess what!" Jaimey yelled enthusiastically after he pecked his father on the cheek. "Ms. Annie asked where I was gonna go when we moved and so I told her and she said she'd gotten a job offer from Abercorn! Wouldn't that be great?" Jaimey was bouncing up and down like a puppy.
Ms. Annie was Jaimey's maths teacher and by far his favorite. Annie was very nice to John as well and the only one that didn't openly hate him. She was so young, only twenty-five, that Jaimey thought of her as a cousin or sister he'd never had.
"Yeah Jaimey, that would be cool."
This chapter was mostly just a set up for some later drama and a time passer chapter so it may not be quite up to snuff. Still, I hope it's alright. Its about early to mid December now in the story which means CHRISTMAS! And another Christmas party at 221b Baker Street, this time with three kids running around and nobody'll be sober after they go to bed. (Molly got married and Harry and Clara are coming!) And for those of you that have been waiting ever so patiently for some Johnlock, this will be your chapter! Enjoy it while it lasts though loves because after that, we're getting into the mystery.
R&R Dears!