A/N: So I thought that no one would be interested in Gabriel getting his butt chewed once more. That kid is getting mouthy in his old age! Anyway, apparently I was wrong. So here's a bridge chapter between Chapters 51 and 52 that will hopefully resolve the movie theater mishap. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
By the time they got back to the car, took Katie, Archie, Andrew, and Tess home, and arrived back at Baker Street, Gabriel was sure that his ears were bleeding. His father had been shouting at him steadily since the street outside the theater. And what's worse, even his mum couldn't help him this time. Usually she would interject on Gabriel's behalf and calm his father down, but this time she just sat there silently in the passenger seat. Scarlett was no help either. Whatever drugs they'd given her in the A&E had taken effect and she was asleep and drooling through the whole ordeal.
"Do you have any idea what might have happened to you tonight?" Sherlock said for the millionth time as they stomped up the stairs. "You're very lucky it was me that you ran into on the street and not some random psychopath!"
"High functioning sociopath," Gabriel grumbled under his breath.
"Pardon?" Sherlock said, whipping around.
"Nothing."
"No, do go on." Sherlock pulled off his scarf and tossed it aside. He paced around Gabriel menacingly until the boy sat down hard in the armchair. "I'm very interested in hearing any sort of explanation for your behavior."
Gabriel sighed and leaned back. He looked up at the ceiling in the hopes that the answers would magically appear in the ceiling tiles. "I don't know, Dad. I just wanted to see the film."
"And I told you no. Days ago!"
"But why? I'm thirteen, you know!"
"What difference does that make?"
"Because I'm not a little kid anymore! You and Mum treat me like I might be Will and Finn! And besides—you would let me watch it at home! What's the difference if I watch it at the cinema?"
Molly appeared in the kitchen where she was preparing a glass of ice and ginger ale for Scarlett. "The difference is that you were told not to go, and then you blatantly defied us by going. You lied, Gabriel."
"Because you wouldn't even listen to me!" he shouted, rushing to the kitchen. "I asked over and over! I told you guys that a bunch of us were going!"
"Just because you didn't get the answer you wanted, doesn't mean we weren't listening." Her voice was calm and matter of fact. And it was infuriating! Gabriel almost wished she would shout and be irrational like his father, but she was so damn… reasonable.
"Now I know you tried to tell us in the car, but please explain once more," Sherlock began. "How is it that you ended up on the sidewalk at midnight looking for a mobile phone?"
"We ended up having to go to a different theater where we had to take The Tube. When we got there, some older guy said he'd buy our tickets since the show was over eighteen. But when we gave him our money, he took off with it. So nobody had any money left for Tube fare."
"But you did see the film?" Molly asked. "How did you manage that?"
"We snuck in at a side door when other people were coming out."
Sherlock sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "So not only did you lie to us, coerce your baby sister into lying to us for you, and completely defy our wishes, but you also lost a fair amount of money, and stole cinema tickets."
"I didn't steal anything!"
"Yes you did, Gabe." Sherlock was wearing the same expression he had when Lestrade said something idiotic: eyes wide, mirthless smirk. "You went into the cinema without paying. Did you hijack a little old lady for her popcorn too?"
Gabriel heaved an exasperated sigh and shook his head. "God! You guys act like I'm some kind of criminal! It's not like I hurt anybody!"
"Really?" Molly snapped, slamming the glass down on the table. "Did you take a look at Scarlett when we got home?"
"What's that got to do with me?"
"She was climbing her bookshelf trying to get a book to keep her awake so that she could lie for you when you called home!" Molly's anger had finally manifested, but she didn't shout. Her voice wavered and Gabriel could see her eyes glistening.
"So Scarlett falling is my fault?"
"Kinda, yeah!"
Gabriel growled, his frustration with his parents bubbling over. "That is so fucking typical!" he shouted. "You don't give a shit about me and what I want—always Scarlett! Fucking Scarlett! If she hadn't busted her lip, you guys wouldn't even have noticed if I was here or gone."
"Gabriel, that's ridiculous," Molly said. "You're getting defensive and throwing up stupid excuses because you got caught! And by the way, the main reason why we're so upset is because you put yourself and your friends in danger tonight. Despite what you think, thirteen is still a child and there are plenty of people out on the streets at midnight who would love to take advantage of that! Anything could have happened to you, Gabe! Anything!"
"Well what the fuck do you care anyway?" Gabriel snapped. He was completely enraged now and found that he couldn't stop the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. "You probably would like it better if I got kidnapped or murdered. Then you wouldn't have to deal with me anymore and you'd have my dad and your babies all to yourself! You aren't even my real mother!" He turned to storm out, but Sherlock was right behind and met his exit with a sharp slap across the face. At first Gabriel didn't say a word, just stood there gaping at his father.
"Don't ever speak to my wife that way again," Sherlock said, his voice eerily calm.
Gabriel was immediately sorry. For everything. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his mum standing there, looking almost as shocked and weeping silently. "Dad…I…"
"Don't," Sherlock said. The timbre of his voice was a warning. "Just don't. The best thing you can do for yourself right now is to go up to your room and go to bed without another word. I can't even look at you right now."
"But Dad…"
"I wouldn't. I really wouldn't."
Gabriel started to speak again, but all that would come was a choked sob. He looked between them once more and ran up the back stairs, leaving their anger behind.
OoOoOo
After the second round of vomiting from Scarlett's pain medication, Molly was at the end of her tether. "Why on earth would they have given the child something so strong?" she sighed, stripping the bed once more. Sherlock sat in the corner of the room with Scarlett in his lap, unmoving. She could tell by his furrowed brow and clenched jaw that he was still seething with anger, but he was trying very hard to keep it at bay. Scarlett was already upset and hearing her parents angry would only make it worse. "And now she's thrown it all up so it isn't doing anything to help her pain anyway!"
"Do you want me to call John?" he sighed.
"No. Not yet anyway. It's so late. I hate to wake him."
"I hurt, Daddy…" Scarlett whimpered. It was easy to see why. The little girl had literally hit her face on the bookshelf and pulled a heavy book down on top of herself. One eye was black with a terrible looking gash over it. Her lower lip was swollen and she'd evidently bitten it when she hit the floor because her teeth had cut deeply. She was the recipient of two stitches in her lip and six on the cut over her eye. And then there was the wrist she'd landed on, which she was extremely lucky not to have snapped in two. That was where the majority of her pain was coming from. It was badly sprained and wrapped tightly in a splint.
"I'm going to call John," Sherlock said, giving Scarlett a gentle squeeze. "She can't go on this way all night." He reached into the pocket of his dressing gown. "That's odd," he said."
"What?"
"My mobile isn't in my pocket. I must have left it in the bedroom."
"God forbid you put it away to sleep."
"No… I always have it on me…" He chuckled mirthlessly. "I must be distracted tonight."
"Well it's been a terrible, horrible night," Molly said. She motioned Scarlett over. "Come on, love. Let's get you tucked in bed."
"What if I get sick again?" she asked, stumbling out of her father's lap and across the room.
"I don't think you will." Molly tucked the fresh coverlet around Scarlett and kissed her forehead. "I'll come in with some medicine in a little while, but try to sleep."
"Can't you stay with me, Mummy?" Scarlett whined.
"I'll come back. I promise."
Molly followed Sherlock from Scarlett's room and into theirs. His shoulders were slumped and he looked exhausted. She'd never seen him this way and she had to admit, it was a bit scary. He looked sad, angry, and dejected simultaneously. "Are you alright?" she asked finally as he was going through his coat pockets looking for his phone.
"I'm fine," he said.
"Somehow I'm not sure I believe you."
"Mmm…" he hummed. She went to him and wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her cheek against him. Every muscle in his body was tense. Finally he sighed, "I shouldn't have done that."
"What, love?"
"I shouldn't have hit him. It was… completely the wrong thing to do. But I couldn't stop myself. It was like something popped in my brain when he said what he did to you and I couldn't help it. I just snapped."
"Sherlock, it isn't as if you hit him with a bat."
"No, but I still feel horrible because I should have been able to come up with something better than that. But then I think, he absolutely deserved it. He should never have said that to you, Molly. I was so… enraged. But now that it's over, I just feel awful. Like I finally let my father take over my body. And it scares me."
"Why?"
"Because my father escalated over the course of my teenaged years. When I was younger, he would punch me in the face to finish the argument."
"Oh my God! He punched you?"
"Closed fisted. My father gave me my first black eye. Then when I got older, I was bigger and stronger so I fought back. We would have physical altercations with fists and kicking. I never want to be that way with Gabriel."
It was as if saying his name had summoned him. Gabriel cleared his throat and his parents turned to find him leaning against their doorframe. He stared down at the floor and it was obvious that the boy had been crying.
"What is it, Gabe?" Molly asked.
"I know you told me not to come out of my room, but…" he sniffled and his voice cracked a little. "I knew I'd never go to sleep if I didn't say something."
"Go ahead," Sherlock said.
"Mum, I am so sorry for what I said to you. I didn't mean it. I was just angry and embarrassed about what had happened. And then I was angry that you guys were right and I was wrong and I wanted to hurt your feelings…"
"So you pulled out the one thing that you knew would hurt her," Sherlock finished.
Gabriel nodded. "I'm so sorry, Mum. Will you… forgive me?"
Molly went to him and wrapped him in a tight embrace. "Oh Gabriel, of course I forgive you. I'll always forgive you! I love you and nothing you could ever do or say would change that." Now they were both crying, partly from relief. After several minutes she pulled back and pushed his hair away from his sweaty brow. "You were still wrong."
"I know. And I accept whatever punishment…" he murmured. Then he looked up to his father. "And I'm sorry I did what I did."
"I'm sorry I hit you, Gabriel," Sherlock said. "It was a reflex reaction that had nothing to do with my brain…"
"No, don't apologize," he started. "I had that one coming."
Sherlock chuckled. "Maybe a little. But still… I don't want to be that kind of father to you, Gabe. You and I should be able to fight without resorting to smacking one another."
"I did have to check and make sure I still had all my teeth on that side," Gabriel joked.
"Funny." Sherlock and Molly embraced him and for the first time, Gabriel didn't seem like a little kid anymore, but a grown man.
"You know, Gabe. When I was thirteen, I kind of sucked as a human being too," Sherlock said.
"Oh yeah?"
"Are you kidding? He didn't start acting like a real person until a few years ago," Molly said with a smirk. "Now, why don't we all go to bed and end this horrible day, finally."
Before they could yawn their replies, Scarlett appeared in the hallway behind them. "Mummy… I think I'm going to be sick again…"
