Chapter VI
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Greg raised his hand and with it the fire in the grate rose and then, as he lowered his hand, it fell again.
John watched impassively but Sherlock leant forwards. "How?"
Greg grinned and did it again, slowing it down this time. First he began to raise his hand. "At first actions are helpful to control the flow of power. As you raise your hand, feed energy through it. Make sure you're thinking of the flames though. And then push more energy through your hand." The flame flared up; as if fed by wood or coal, the sparks flying up. He then began to lower his hand and the energy output. "Slowly reduce the flow of energy, as you lower your hand."
Greg watched Sherlock raise and lower his hand but didn't feel him follow his instructions. Sherlock sighed in exasperation and then dropped his arm. He turned to John and whined, "John! It won't work..." He pouted, pulling a face and flopped down, resting his head in John's lap.
Greg rolled his eyes. "Get up, Sherlock." He said dispassionately as John pulled Sherlock upright gently. "You didn't even try."
Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "I did."
John sighed disappointedly. "Don't lie, Sherlock."
Sherlock groaned. "John!" He drew out the word in a pleading way. "Please. I don't want to control fire..."
Greg crossed his arms across his chest and remained quiet, letting John convince the little boy; he complained too much for his age anyway.
John just frowned, ever patient. "Why not?"
"Because then I'll be just like him." Sherlock looked pointedly at Greg. "I won't be your favourite anymore, I'll be Mycroft's."
Greg laughed, almost bitterly. "What? I'm not Mycroft's favourite!"
Sherlock frowned. "Yes you are! He hangs on your every word."
Greg scoffed at this but before he could answer John interrupted what he could feel would become an argument. "Sherlock? You'll always be my favourite."
The boy looked up at John with eyes that belied his size. "Really?"
"Yes, Sherlock. So please? Learn what this gift has to offer, otherwise it could overwhelm you later on." John had actual worry in his voice.
Sherlock's shoulders slumped and he finally nodded. "Fine. I will."
Greg nodded. "Then do it again, Sherlock."
Sherlock groaned and began to raise his hand.
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It took about an hour but Sherlock eventually got it. Occasionally Mycroft drifted in and then drifted out, just checking up. Ever since John was learning how to control himself and his in take of emotions- he still was honing that skill- and had lashed out when Mycroft walked in because the room was too loud. He screamed a lot and lashed out with power at the other boy. Greg ha to restrain him and shout at Mycroft to get out. No one was really hurt but John had nasty burns down his right leg, from all that power he unleashed quickly in such an uncontrolled way; it gave him a limp for a long time and even now it came back occasionally, psychosomatic really.
When Sherlock grasped the basics of controlling fire Greg moved him on to forming a flame.
"Hold out your hand, only slightly cupped so that you form a little well." Greg checked that Sherlock was doing it right before nodding. "Yes, like that. Now when you create the flame, remember, it won't hurt you; you are feeding it. It needs you. But it can hurt other people."
Sherlock snapped. "I know! Tell me how!"
Greg broke. "Stop it!" He hissed. "Stop pushing me, you little shit! Because I'll break. You don't want that!"
John leant forward and gently put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "Greg! Calm. Please."
Greg breathed deeply trying to calm down before nodding at John. "Sorry. But he needs to know..." His eyes filled with regret. "Show him what I did."
John sighed. "No, Greg-"
"Show him!" Greg pleaded before glaring at Sherlock. "This is a kind warning Sherlock, if you then hurt someone by mistake that is your fault."
John sighed and unbuttoned his shirt slowing opening it to reveal what, to Sherlock's intelligent eye, showed to be a third degree burn or at least a second. It stretched across his right hip, up from his thigh apparently, and up to his lower rib or one of the lower ribs at the least. It was white and shiny, marring the tanned skin of John's torso. Around the silver whiteness was a redder area before the skin went back to bronze.
He looked away, unable to see that; something he could do if taught this.
"...Sherlock-" John sounded pained but Greg cut him off.
"He needed to see John. See what I did when I became careless, so he never will."
Sherlock took in a broken breath and shook his head. "I can't learn this, if I could do that, I can't."
Greg shook his head. "You will. And you'll learn from my mistakes too."
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So sorry it took so long you guys! We've been ill and then we went away for the weekend and then we were busy and wow it's been like two weeks. We're so sorry!
However the same bargain applies this time! THE MORE YOU GUYS REVIEW, THE FASTER WE'LL UPDATE!
Thank you for all your support, we are thankful.
I'd also like to just clear up this point; people have been pointing out that the 'Others' language is a lot more advanced than it should be however we touched in this the other chapter. Others cognitive function develop a lot faster than a Normal's would. In actual fact Sherlock is probably at least 10 years a head, maybe more.
From M and C.