warnings for father-son abuse.
Apologies for the really short chapter. And hopefully things will start looking up after this chapter. Sorry for any feels caused by this story.
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Molly made her way into the room and bit her lip at what she saw. Sherlock was staring at the door still, had even looked hopeful as Molly opened the door. Molly actually felt guilty for making him slouch again in disappointment. She moved over to the bed and sat next to him. "Don't start." Sherlock said quietly. He sounded so defeated.

Molly chewed her lip a bit as she watched him, unsure what to say. She could say she told him so, but she knew he didn't need that, and she certainly wasn't glad she was right. She could say plenty of things, but wasn't sure which would actually be helpful. She started with "I'm sorry." Sherlock didn't reply. He curled up on the bed next to her, clutching his knees to his chest. "So am I." He said quietly.

She felt her heart break even more at the sight of him and didn't stop herself from running her fingers gently through his hair. "It will be alright." She said softly. "He just needs time to understand and wrap his mind around it." She was both surprised and happy that Sherlock didn't pull away from her or tell her to stop. She continued moving her hand through his hair, trying to soothe. "He cares a lot about you Sherlock. You saw that, both in how he acted with you and what he said to you as the anon. You know he cares. Don't forget that."

Sherlock still didn't respond and Molly started to wonder if he didn't pull away because he didn't mind or because he didn't care enough about anything to move. She bit her lip harder. "Sherlock… just.. give him time and then talk to him. Even send him messages as the anon or texts or even.. come off of anon now that he knows… Not yet of course.. I do think he needs a bit of time.."

She stopped talking again, deciding she wasn't really helping. She didn't know what to do. She was so bad at comforting people and she couldn't decide if Sherlock was worse or better than others.

They stayed like that for a long while. Molly couldn't even say how Sherlock ended up with his head in her lap as she continued running her fingers through his hair. She would say something every once in a while, but for the most part they both stayed silent, thinking about what happened and how to fix it.

Greg took off running after John. He finally caught up to him as he turned down his street. "John!" He called out. John clenched his fists a bit, and seemed about to start going faster, before he changed his mind and slowed, turning toward Greg. "Did you know?" He asked. He was about to take it back, not sure how Greg would have known, but the look on his face was enough for him.

He stood unsure of how to react for a moment, before choosing anger. He clenched his fists together. "What the bloody hell?! Why wouldn't you tell me? Why would you keep encouraging me, when you knew the whole time?!"

Greg shook his head quickly. "Now wait a minute. I didn't say I knew the whole time. I've only known for a little while. Molly told me, and she made me promise not to say anything. Besides I didn't think you were ready to know. I thought you'd take it badly. Thank God I was wrong." He said, raising an eyebrow at him.

John almost snarled in response. "How am I supposed to react? I was a bloody experiment! I.. You encouraged me to fall for the person on my computer! You even encouraged me to fall for Sherlock! And now…they're the bloody same person!"

Greg took a deep breath, praying for patience. "I'm not seeing the problem with that. Shouldn't you be relieved? Happy even?"

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah. If this were some fairytale maybe I would be. But he lied to me. He made me an experiment. And don't you try to tell me he returns my feelings. He wouldn't have done this if he did."

Greg sighed softly. "Wouldn't he have, though? Think about it John. How would he be able to tell you it's him? You two met after he started talking to you on tumblr. And you flirted with him and everything. He knew everything there was to know about anybody. Meaning he would have known you thought you were straight. He might even have thought you were straight. What was he supposed to do with that?"

John chewed his lip. "I don't know! Alright. But not what he did. I was only ever open with him! He could have told me once I confessed my bloody feelings!" He huffed, turning again and starting to walk again. "Just leave it Greg." He muttered, and turned down his driveway. "Go home." He added, seeing his father's car.

Greg shook his head. "No. I'm not going home until you see sense." He said stubbornly, following John into his house. John paused at the door, torn between not wanting Greg to ever meet his father and pride and stubbornness. He chose the latter and walked into the house, not caring that Greg followed him. He cringed when he was met with yelling. He felt like banging his head against the wall. He couldn't ever get a break.

Greg followed stubbornly until he heard the yelling, and suddenly wasn't so sure he should have come in. John's one rule for their friendship was that he never saw his father. And it made sense to Greg. He never questioned it before. But now, watching John, knowing he was going to get in the middle of things. He couldn't just leave, but he wasn't sure if he'd be any help or if he'd make things worse.

John didn't even look at Greg, hoping he left as John headed toward the yelling. He heard a hit and all rational thought flew out of his mind as he ran into the other room seeing red. He had enough of this. He had enough of being afraid of everyone and everything. He had enough of fearing for his family and of trying to do everything on his own. This was it. He didn't even think as he flew into the room and instead of letting his father hit him as usual until he calmed down, John flew at him, throwing his own punches, letting out everything he kept bottled up.

Greg ran after him, knowing whatever he had planned wasn't good. He watched his best friend attack his own father. Watched, and didn't know what to do. John's mother and sister were standing to the side screaming as the men hit each other and shoved each other against the wall. Greg could barely tell whose limbs belonged to who, or where the blood was coming from. He stood a bit longer before he finally came to his senses and grabbed his phone, dialing 999 and trying to speak calmly but urgently into the phone.

He was aware that he probably just ruined his friendship with John and possibly more. He knew John was keeping his abusive father a secret. Mostly so that the family had a chance in the end. But Greg couldn't keep lying for John and he definitely couldn't keep watching what was happening in front of him.

The rest of the time seemed like a blur. He was watching them fighting and then there were sirens and both men were panicking and bleeding. John was on the floor, nursing his injuries as his father fled the house. Greg knelt next to him, chewing his lip a bit. "Let me help with that." John looked up at him slowly. He was worse than Greg had seen him in a long time, bruises and cuts. "Did you call them?" He asked slowly. "Did you call the police?"

Greg swallowed and nodded. "Yeah… I couldn't.. John he was beating the crap out of you." He said quietly, hoping to get some sense into John. All he saw was the look of betrayal before police and paramedics were rushing inside to John, asking them all questions, speaking into their radios.

Greg watched everyone leave. John was taken in the ambulance alone and his mother and sister were taken in a cop car behind. Greg sat on the front step, wondering if he saved his friends life, or just made it that much harder.