Black Eyed

I was never loyal
Except to my own pleasure zone
I'm forever black-eyed
A product of a broken home

After John had left with Lestrade, Sherlock had shuffled back further on the bed with the book in his hands and tried to focus on the words, but his head was fuzzy and light and he couldn't concentrate. Eventually he was going to have start working on some sort of nutrition for his transport, his body was aching and his muscles were starting to cramp more on him the longer he went without solid food. It was becoming obvious he needed more than just black coffee and nicotine to run on, his stomach clenched painfully in response and he swallowed reflexively against the burn of reflux and nausea.

There was the choice of asking permission to have Mycroft bring in foods we was willing to eat, face the slop in the cafeteria or relent and allow them to put the irritating tube back down his throat and simply pump in the disgusting formula and save him the act of eating altogether. Either way he didn't want to think about it right now, he was cold tired and bored.

Closing his eyes Sherlock let out a large sigh and relaxed against the pillow, willing his body to settle down and hopefully fall in to sleep. He popped an unwilling eye open though when the door creaked open, surely John couldn't be back already; and checks had come just before he had left with Greg. His stomach dropped when Anderson's greasy head appeared around the door, leering grin pulling the corners of his lips up as he moved in to the room and shut the door behind him. He never took his eyes off Sherlock as he leaned against the wall. 'Lookie here, if the skeleton hasn't been left alone! No pet body guard here to protect you today Sherly.'

Sitting up abruptly Sherlock swung his legs off the bed, he didn't want to be lying down while Anderson was in the room with him, he knew what he wanted and today he was not in the mood. Standing up he moved towards the bathroom, it was the one place with a lock on the door where he could hide himself and wait out the older boy. Anderson beat him there though, one of his clammy cold hands pressing against the door handle and shutting Sherlock off from his only out. Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms against his chest almost protectively. 'Get out Anderson, I have no interest in playing your childish games today.'

Sherlock felt the breath whoosh out of his body as he was slammed against the bathroom door, one of those hands closing threateningly around his throat as the other boy leaned in close to his ear; 'now, now Sherlock. You know how this goes.' Anderson leant further in and licked up the side of his face before nipping the corner of his ear, Sherlock shuddered in repulsion and tried to squirm away but the hand just pressed harder against his throat and held him there as Anderson's hips ground against his.

'Stop it, get out.' Sherlock brought his arms up and pushed against Anderson but the older boy was taller and more solid then he was, he simply pressed himself harder against Sherlock and brought his spare hand up to wrap around one of Sherlock's wrists and hold it above his head, bringing his head in to nuzzle the nape of his neck and bite at the pale skin there before burying his nose in Sherlock's dark curls. 'Get off me, I don't want anything to do with this anymore.' He struggled vainly, not willing to give up easily.

Anderson had been doing this to him since he had arrived, claimed his stake on Sherlock early and made the terms clear that he ran the ward and that if Sherlock wanted or needed anything he could set him up for a price. Sherlock had accepted it at first, taking advantage of the allowances Anderson could get him at night to escape outside for a cigarette or simply roam the streets until dawn. In the past week though he had changed his mind, he hadn't left the ward or his bedroom after hours since coming back from the medical ward, and had made sure to avoid all advances from Anderson in that time. He was angry for leaving himself open like this, alone and not ready for something.

'Not till I get what I came for, don't think I don't know that this is what you do for a living on the outside. Spread those long legs for dirty men cheating on their wives in the back of their family wagons.' Anderson thrust against his hips again, his erection digging in to Sherlock's crotch. 'While you're in here you are my dirty little whore Sherlock.' He leered, biting down below the line of Sherlock's t-shirt, marking him and making him gasp in pain.

Sherlock's struggles renewed with vigour. 'Get out of this room or I will tell Lestrade you are the one bringing in the drugs, and believe me- he will find enough evidence.' Sherlock hissed, but Anderson just laughed breathlessly against his skin, licking the small beads of blood there and sending a sickened ripple of shame through Sherlock's body.

'What the fuck…. GET OFF HIM!' Anderson was suddenly wrenched away from Sherlock who stood frozen against the door. He hadn't heard the door open, John had come in and now held Anderson against the floor in a stranglehold, his face turning a deep puce red as he struggled for a breath against John's solid arm pressing dangerously against his windpipe. Sherlock couldn't seem to make himself respond, how did John keep catching him in these predicaments? He slid down the wall, a hand going up to close over the bite Anderson had left over his collarbone.

'Are you okay Sherlock?' He looked up, John had let Anderson go in a jumbled heap of boneless limbs against the lino as he gasped for breath. John was kneeling down in front of him now, a tentative hand held out between them both. Sherlock nodded dumbly, mouth dry from shock. 'Should I get Lestrade, or an orderly?' John moved to get up but Sherlock shot out a hand and grabbed him, shaking his head viciously.

'No-no it's okay, thank you for intervening. He caught me off guard is all, thank you John.' Sherlock coughed to clear his throat. 'I don't believe he will be a problem again.' Sherlock assured, looking over to Anderson who was pushing himself up now and glaring daggers at them both. 'Isn't that right Anderson?'

'You're fucking pet won't be loyal to you forever Sherlock, he will leave you alone eventually and I'll take what I want.' Anderson stood up and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

'I'm sorry you had to see that John.' Sherlock mumbled, looking down at his shaking hands. He was shaky after being caught off guard like that and being unable to fight back and protect himself. He hated being weak, and having people think they owned him and he was their property. That whole ideal had landed him in this situation in the first place. Sherlock wasn't willing to go there again.

He also wasn't stupid enough to believe he had the situation under control, he had gotten himself in to the mess and he had foolishly underestimated Anderson and how far he would take the whole thing. He knew full well that if John hadn't shown up just now Anderson would have taken what he came for. 'That first day at lunch, when he came to the table… that was to do with this wasn't it?' John's voice snapped him out his haze and he looked up.

'Yes John. But we don't have to worry about it anymore, or talk it about it if you wouldn't mind.' John just nodded in response, standing up and offering Sherlock a hand to stand up as well and leading him towards the bed before he went in to the bathroom, coming back out with a wet washcloth he placed against the bite mark. Sherlock smiled in thanks and held it there, a small blush blossoming on his cheeks. He wasn't accustomed to this sort of treatment lately. The past eighteen months of his life hadn't been the easiest.

They sat in companionable silence, John sniffling occasionally as they sat side by side. Sherlock had noticed how puffy and red rimmed his eyes had been, the tip of his nose red raw from wiping it so often. 'I'm glad you survived John.' Sherlock whispered quietly, leaning his weight against the other boys shoulder.