You're late, again, as usual." Mycroft's words cut like a knife. I rushed to meet him, I had run as quickly as I could.
I said nothing as we fall into step together, him lecturing me about making good first impressions.
"Mummy said I have to take you to the playground today, at least act civilized for once in your life."
"I don't want to go to the playground, I want to go play with Redbeard."
"His name is Victor, have, at least, some respect for given names."
"But, Mike-"
"Mycroft, my name is Mycroft." He snapped, striding several steps ahead, forcing me to sprint to catch up.
"Mum calls you Mike!" My voice turned to a loud shout when Mycroft pushed me down.
"I hate being called Mike!"
"Stop being mean." My arms crossed over my chest protectively. It's not my fault Mycroft is a grumpy dick about being called Mike.
"I'm not, you're being annoying, it's your fault I have to take you out today anyway!"
"How?" I forced myself to my feet, planting myself firmly in place before I said the next word. "Mike."
Mycroft glared at me with anger blazing in his eyes.
Staying where I was, I raised my chin defiantly. "Tell me, Mike."
"Because you're annoying and lack the intelligence to keep your opinion to yourself when mum asks if we want to go play."
"You said you wanted to play."
"No, I said I didn't want to go play."
"Then why are we going to the playground, I could be playing with Redbeard."
"Victor." Mycroft hisses, still glaring.
"Red Beard."
"Stop being annoying."
"I'm not annoying."
A group of Uni students was walking our way I recognize them. Steven, Jerome, Tyler, Nathan, and Marcus. Mycroft watched them with an anxious look on his face.
"Hey, look guys, it's the kid who tried to talk shop with us." Steven sneered as he and his band of 'men' gathered around Mycroft and I.
"Pleased to see you again, now if you'll excuse us, we must be going." Mycroft grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me down the sidewalk, but I feel a hand pull me backwards onto the ground.
"Nah, I think we have time to talk, Mike." Tyler's hand is the one that grabbed me I discover while sprawled on the ground.
I realized how screwed we were when Mycroft complied and stepped back into the center of the of group boys.
The conversation quickly turned from underlying threats to obvious threats.
"You think you're smarter than us?" Marcus, the strongest of the students, held Mycroft's arm behind his back.
"Stop it." Mycroft groaned as he kept pushing it further and further, risking a sprain or a spiral fracture.
"Leave him alone." I fought out of Steven and Nathan's arms and pushed the Marcus as hard as I could, trying to get him away from Mycroft. he let go of Mycroft's arm and looked at me with a mixture of anger and amusement.
"Sherlock, no." Mycroft's eyes grew wide in fear, Jerome and Tyler grabbed him, holding him back when he tried to get to me.
"Oh, what are you going to do about it?" Marcus stepped away from Mycroft, and poked me in the chest, trying to provoke me.
"There are numerous things I could do to you, however, most of them are illegal and I do not desire any time behind bars."
"Oh, you think you're a big guy, do you?"
"Obviously bigger than you." I remember being shocked when a hand hit me across the face.
"Oh, the baby's gonna go cry to his mommy." The group of boys laughed, Mycroft being held back as the other's that remained gathered around me.
"Your quarrel is with me, leave him out of it!" Mycroft fought against the two boys holding him.
"Oh, is he your little buddy." Steven grabbed my shoulder tightly, squeezing it harder making me wince.
"Piss off!" I tried to shake from his grip, but found it only got tighter.
"Let's take this to the alley." Marcus popped his knuckles, my eyes grew wide, but before I could run, Marcus grabbed me and pulled me into the alley, Tyler and Jerome dragging Mycroft kicking and throwing insults.
This is going to hurt like hell.
The first punches and kicks were landed on Mycroft, to keep him from trying to get to me.
Marcus stood over me, hand raised ready to deliver the first blow.
"I'm going to enjoy this-"
"Sherlock, wake up."
"Stop!" I sit up and nearly fall out of bed.
"Easy." I recognize the voice, it's not Steven, Marcus, Tyler, Jerome, or Nathan... it's Lestrade.
Taking several deep breaths, still scanning the room for any threats, when my eyes land on Mycroft I feel a mixture of relief and frustration.
"How did you sleep, Brother mine?" He ignores my obvious nightmare.
"Fine." I flop back down in the bed, trying to calm my pounding heart.
"Looked like you were having a nightmare." Lestrade's voice betrays worry.
I can't help but scoff.
Obviously.
"What was it about?"
Silence is his answer.
"He was having a nightmare about our neighborhood bullies as children." Mycroft clicks his umbrella on the ground.
I'm aware I'm staring at him with shock and anger, but I don't care.
"What?" Lestrade seems confused. "How-"
"He said several names from our childhood, and accompanied with his repeated stops, I can deduce he was dreaming of an altercation between him and some bullies."
Looking down in shame, I can't help but feel violated for some reason.
"Holmes." Lestrade's mutter is barely audible.
"Could be worse, you could have all three of them in one room." John's voice rings through the air. Almost like a programming, my head swivels to meet his gaze, to see my blogger. Than I remember that he's not my blogger, that he's not John. he's John.
"Ah, glad you could make it, John." Lestrade greets the blonde.
"Go to Sherlock, Rosie." John set's Rosie down and she stumbles to me as quickly as she can.
"Daddy!"
"No, I'm not daddy." Once again, I find myself smiling at the little girl.
She holds her arms up, asking me to pick her up.
What if I'm not supposed to?
Pick her up.
No, what if I'm not supposed to?
Pick her up.
I don't want to get into trouble.
Pick her up, stupid. She's asking you to pick her up, pick her up.
But-
This is why no one likes you, you're a stubborn arrogant idiotic bastard that thinks he knows best.
But-
Bastard, pick the kid up.
"Sherlock?" John's voice shakes me from my thoughts.
"What?" I look up from Rosie to him.
"Do you need me to set her up for you?"
See, you should have picked her up, now you're in trouble.
My eyes flick to the violin next to me.
"Dr. Watson, I do believe my brother thinks he's not allowed."
"Sherlock, Jesus, we were doing better!" John sounds frustrated.
I flinch down and my left hand rests protectively on my violin.
"Daddy?" I feel a hand on mine, I look and see Rosie standing on her tip toes trying to get up to me.
Pick her up.
I'm in trouble.
Yeah, you are.
My eyes go to the floor opposite side of the bed to her.
I'm in trouble, I don't like being in trouble.
Yeah, because you won't pick her up.
I'm not an idiot, I'm not going to fall for this test.
You are an idiot, you picked her up last night, now you're being a bastard and ignoring her.
I'm brought from my mind when a weight becomes present beside me on the bed, I glance and see Rosie.
"We need to talk, Sherlock." I feel the bed dip on the opposite side and turn to see John sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry." My eyes lock on the wall above him, I can't look him in the eye.
"No, stop, look at me." I look at the wall beside his head, still unwilling to meet his eye. "At me, Sherlock."
Look at him... Coward.
"He's not going to look at you, Dr. Watson." Mycroft clicks his umbrella once more.
Oh really?
forcing myself to look at John out of spite, I find myself afraid of what I see.
Patience.
"Thank you."
A second later I look away, not able to hold eye contact any longer.
Screw you Mycroft.
"You did good, that's a start." John's voice is soft like... like... like my scarf. That sounds weird, but it is. "Do you want to come home with me, or do you want to go home with Mycroft and Lestrade?"
He's asking you a question stupid, answer him.
I don't want to upset anyone.
Answer him, go ahead, let him know you don't want to go home with your brother and his boyfriend.
I'm scared.
Fucking coward, you're a disgrace. You're scared of everything. The only person who could keep you in like and keep you right is Allan, and he's dead. Everything that happened to Allan, Mycroft killing him, all of it is your fault.
Shut up.
You. Killed. Allan.
Stop.
Face the truth. You killed him.
"Sherlock, it's okay to talk, please answer me."
"...you..." I can hardly hear myself.
"What was that, I'm sorry, I couldn't understand that."
"You." I repeat in a louder clearer tone, I avoid looking at anyone in the room.
"Okay, than you can go home with me."
"There are rules." Mycroft buts in with a stern and overbearing voice, it's a struggle to keep from flinching at his words.
"Mycroft, not right now." John speaks over him.
"Yes, right now." Mycroft speaks over him. "You are no longer allowed to leave without someone with you, you will wear a trackable bracelet, you will go to a psychologist whenever you have an appointment, you will eat, you will do whatever John tells you, if you break any of the rules you will be sent to a facility until you're deemed safe to leave."
"Mycroft, no, that's not how we do things." John stands up.
"It is now." Mycroft also stands.
"No, it's not."
"I'm afraid you seem to be mistaken, if you wish for Sherlock to return to 221B bakers street, he will follow all of the rules."
It's your fault they're arguing, all your fault.
Leave me alone.