I know some of you are going to hate me for this chapter! But you guys said you wanted more emotion from Sherlock and I have been planning this for a while… hope you still enjoy it :)

The Letter

Madison left the next day, with her life being in danger and all. Sherlock didn't say goodbye. He didn't see the point. He may have saved her life, but he hadn't done it for her, he'd done it for his own enjoyment.

But now he was bored.

After a potential murder, nothing interested him. It had occurred on several occasions where he hadn't bothered to go to lessons, only to miss his lessons and be placed in detention, which he also skipped.

He had organised with the headmaster to do his biology and chemistry AS exams this summer with the sixth formers. He had learnt the syllabus by heart last year and so didn't need to revise it. He needed to be careful though. His headmaster had threatened him that he will not take the AS exams if he continued to act so rebelliously, and only do his history, geography, Latin and French GCSEs. Maybe not even them if he gets that bad. However, Sherlock knew how to control his headmaster. He hadn't pulled the 'your daughter is going to drop out of university' card yet and he was planning to use it soon if he didn't get his way.

Sherlock liked Mr Crey. Not because he liked his personality or anything, but because he allowed him to do what he wanted, pretty much when he wanted. He only minded when he caused an explosion in the labs or he was falling behind on work. Sherlock didn't care much for his second year work, especially considering he would have done half the GCSEs available at the school by the end of the year anyway.

Instead, he had begun doing various experiments in the labs. There was always at least one free lab so he made the most of it. It was better than going to pointless lessons such as 'textiles'. Why would Sherlock find different ways of making a cushion interesting?

He was studying a chemical reaction under a microscope when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't look up, knowing it wasn't a teacher; they would have just walked in. He heard the door open and ignored the person entering, continuing his experiment.

"Erm, hello..." he heard a timid girl's voice say. He looked up briefly before returning to the microscope. New girl, year below, just transferred from London, was bullied, quite intelligent, enjoys fantasy novels, shy, not a very well off family looking at the second hand uniform but have enough money to send her to a private boarding school.

"I, erm... Can you tell me where, erm, lab 4 is?"

"You're in lab 4, you've read the wrong week on your timetable." he said bluntly, not bothering looking up. Typical first year.

"Oh..." she shifted on the spot "My name's Molly."

"Sherlock Holmes." he said as he changed the slide, changing the reaction in his experiment slightly to see the effects.

"Oh, I was told about you..." she said shyly.

"What were you told?" Sherlock threw the slide in the bin.

"That, erm, you're clever and erm..."

"Gay?" he looked up at her.

She nodded slowly, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Are you?"

He smirked. "Nice to meet you Molly. Goodbye." he said and waltzed past her, turning off the light behind him.

Molly stood there awkwardly in the dark room before walking out and looking at her timetable. She walked to her next class, her mind full of thoughts about the mysterious, dark haired 13 year old boy. She didn't care if he was gay or not, he was intriguing.

Sherlock made his way back to the dorms. Why did she talk to him if she knew he was a reject? Empathy? He frowned. He hated to be pitied. It made him feel weak.

He unlocked the door to his dorm room and stepped inside. He looked down to see a letter on the floor. He had been expecting a reply from Jonathan for a while and smiled as he recognised the make of the envelope. He crouched down and picked it up, a frown slowly forming on his face as the writing wasn't Jonathan's. He looked at the swirl on the 'l' and the swish on the 'k' and deduced it was an elderly woman's writing so it must be Angela's.

He took out his letter opener and opened the letter. He unfolded the paper carefully and read the words, ignoring where tears had fallen onto the page from where she had been writing.

Sherlock,

It is my solemn duty to inform you that Jonathan sadly passed away last night. As I'm sure you're aware, his condition had worsened after his unsuccessful operation to remove the tumour. We are all devastated at his passing.

We understand you and your family were very close to him after his loyal duties at your family home and so we would wish for you all to attend his funeral. I shall write again when the date has been set.

I'm so sorry Sherlock.

Yours, Angela.

Sherlock put the piece of paper on his desk and almost fell into his armchair. He looked down to see his hands shaking slightly and before he knew it, tears began falling down his cheeks. He put his head in his hands and let the sobs shake his body. He didn't understand his emotional response. The fact he didn't understand emotions was confusing enough, but his own emotions taking control over his mind confused and scared him.

He was extremely glad not to have a roommate at this moment in time. He had often wished for one to experiment on but not with dangerous experiments though, that would lead to him getting into more trouble than he was already in. He couldn't imagine their response and how the school would react to his outburst. The insults would just get worse.

By the time he had stopped crying, darkness had filled his room. He looked out the window and stared at the moon. He put his hand in his pocket and took out a cigarette. He lit it with a still shaking hand and opened his window. He needed to take the edge off.

He inhaled the smoke several times before throwing it out the window in frustration. Not enough. Before he knew what he was doing, he took out his phone.

You got any drugs? - SH

What kind? - A

Whatever will get my mind off things - SH

Ok, usual place, 10 minutes - A

Sherlock quickly put his phone away, checking he had money in his pocket before grabbing his coat and scarf. The nights had been surprisingly cold for this time of year, especially considering summer was around the corner. He walked swiftly down the stairs and out the door. He ran across the field to the orchard, not wanting to waste his time. He wiped his face, trying to remove any signs that he had been crying. Sherlock slowed his pace when he saw a figure leaning against a tree.

"Sherlock." he said in greeting as the curly haired boy approached.

"What've you got?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Some cannabis, heroin?"

"How much?" Sherlock rummaged through his pocket for some cash.

"Just give me what you got." he said and snatched the money out of his hands. He flicked through the cash and smiled. "You brought plenty didn't you?" he smirked.

"Is it enough?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"What do you want?"

"Everything." he said in desperation. He was starting to get annoyed. He just wanted to get the drugs and leave.

Andy nodded. "Yeah it's enough..." he took out the drugs from his pocket.

"Inject the heroin, smoke the cannabis. Don't take it all at once unless you have a death wish." and with that, he walked off with his money in his hands.

Sherlock looked down at the drugs that had been pressed in his handstand swiftly put them in his pocket. He made his way back to his dorm and sat down on his armchair.

He took out the needle full of heroin and put it to the side. He tightly wrapped a band around his arm and waited until he could clearly see the vein. He knew how to take drugs, he'd read about it. He injected the substance into his arm and let the drug overwhelm him.

He felt a certain buzz and let his mind go blank. It was so... peaceful. It was as if everything going on in his head calmed down. His mind palace closed all its doors and turned off the lights, sending him to bed. But Sherlock didn't want to go to bed. He flicked the switch in his mind back on. The 'rooms' in his mind palace were brighter than ever and he began connecting things he had never realised before, adding 'secret passageways' to rooms and creating whole new rooms.

His whole body had relaxed and a dazed grin was on his face. He hadn't felt this good in years...

Meeting Molly, Jonathan dying and him starting to take drugs… This chapter really got away from me.