Greg glared at the tall blond across from him, chest heaving as he struggled with the two men holding him. "Keep talking about Sherlock like that and I'll make sure you won't be doing it for much longer." When Greg had entered the locker room after lunch, he'd been grabbed from behind by two of Sebastian's closest friends and cohorts. He wasn't worried about them, per se. His primary concern was being kicked out of school for something not of his own doing.
"What is it about him that has you and Johnny Boy all up in arms? I mean, come on Lestrade, he's gorgeous yes but he's not worth all of the fighting and arguing we've been doing!"
Glaring at the man pacing in front of him, Greg kept silent. He knew Sebastian didn't really want an answer, he enjoyed hearing himself talk. When Seb stopped in front of him, Greg held the angry blue gaze. He knew what to expect next, it happened every time he or John defended Sherlock.
"Leave him be, Sebby. I think it's precious how they defend him. You wouldn't want anyone to torment me, would you?"
Turning his head to his left, Greg frowned as Jim Moriarty walked around the locker behind Sebastian. Looking between the two, Greg vaguely remembered that Jim was around the same age as Sherlock, having only been accepted once Sherlock had accepted entrance. When the two behind him released him, Greg whipped around, eyes narrowed on the others. "Don't think I'll forget this you bastards."
"They will no longer bother you Gregory, I give you my word."
Turning, Greg scowled at Jim. He'd heard the rumors about those who got involved with the younger man. How they eventually ended up indebted to the point of almost losing their inheritance...or worse. "Don't think that I owe you anything for this, if Seb hadn't been such an asshole..."
"Mmm, yes, I am quite aware of his...playful nature. I have been trying to help him understand that not everyone else will appreciate it as well as I do."
Frown deepening, Greg looked closer at Jim. He was almost as young as Sherlock, maybe a year or two younger. "Yeah, well, you two enjoy that idea. I've got practice to get to." Turning, Greg glared at Sebastian before leaving the locker room. He shook his head as he let his thoughts drift to his run in with Mycroft. He'd seen him around campus, the posh looking man held everyone's attention but never asked for it. It had both angered and intrigued Greg to find he was interested in the tall, slim ginger.
Despite his outward appearance, Greg tried his best to stay out of trouble. True, the crowd he hung around was a bit...rowdy, which often times got them in trouble but they always meant well. It hadn't been until he'd started Uni did his life change. His friends respected his wishes about school but they kept as close to him as possible. Which Greg didn't mind, it helped him remember where he started from. He wore a leather jacket and jeans, the signature look of a rebellious teen his age. Seeing Mycroft in a three piece suit made Greg wonder, why? Why would anyone choose to wear a suit of all things to school? So he'd started asking questions, trying to find out as much as he could about the other, until he'd met Sherlock.
It hadn't escaped him just how young Sherlock was, far to young to be at Uni, and far to young to know as much as he did. It wasn't until his roommate and friend, John Watson had introduced them, did Greg realize who Sherlock was related to. He'd asked John about Mycroft, having figured out early that Sherlock was very protective of his privacy, which included his older brother. When he'd run into Mycroft at the cafe, he had been alone and Greg had been curious. Now, his curiosity was roaring out of control. His initial assumption about Mycroft had been completely wrong, the three piece suit was a defense. Against what, Greg didn't know but he had every intention of finding out.
Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, Greg ignored the brooding, angry man now standing on the field next to him. Turning to his left he gave John a crooked grin. "You look worried, what's going on mate?"
John glanced at Sebastian before pulling Greg to the side. "Sherlock said Sebs has been trying to..." Jaw clenching, John let out a rough breath as he looked Greg in the eyes. "He said Sebs has been touching him and not in a good way." Anger coiled low in John's stomach, rage making his voice rough as he tried to control his temper. "He has bruising on his arms Greg, you know how pale Sherlock is. He will mark easily and bruises don't disappear quickly."
Greg glanced behind him, a dark frown curving his lips down. "You know, Sherlock didn't really have to much trouble until Sebastian and his friend, Jim, showed up. Since then, he's been going through some weird situations."
"If he's touched him in any way inappropriate..." John muttered through clenched teeth. He was protective of Sherlock, albeit more than he should be but it felt natural...right to protect him. Shaking his head, John glared at Sebastian. "I'm not to sure what all he's done, Sherlock wouldn't say but it wasn't anything good, Greg."
Greg frowned, turning to look back at Sebastian. The tall blond was also one of the captains of the football team, known for his power and aggressiveness towards others. Sebastian had made a name for himself on and off the field, something that didn't help with his already inflated opinion of himself. "Well, looks like we will need to have a chat with good old Seb before practice is over."
John nodded, face hot with his anger. When he'd met Sherlock after class, the other had been pale and angry. His usually bright gaze was flat and worried and his clothes... "They tried something in class. When I met Sherlock after history, he looked completely disheveled."
Greg's frown turned into a scowl of anger. "He missed physics, I didn't think anything of it seeing as how he and the professor never really get along. Still, he's never just skipped out on classes before." Shaking his head, Greg turned to face the field. "What do you mean he looked disheveled? Like his clothes were messed up or..."
"Just...he just looked like he'd been in a struggle. He was immaculate at lunch but after...I don't know, his shirt was ripped at the shoulder and his pants...his belt had been undone. He was angry, Greg and not his usual holier than thou anger. This was real anger...and fear. What ever happened scared him." John watched as the team spread out across the field. "I don't like him in the same class as Seb and his friends, they can do to much damage to him without us knowing."
Nodding, Greg watched as Sebastian raced across the field, the soccer ball moving between him and his wing man. "There's always been something a little off about him. I'll talk to Sherlock's counselor's, see if we can do something about his history class." Greg could feel John's anger slowly recede. He knew his friend cared for the younger student, had made it known that he'd taken Sherlock under his protection. It wasn't a surprise he'd be angry about anything upsetting Sherlock. "We may need to get his brother involved as well. From what I understand, Mycroft is his legal guardian while their parents are out of the country."
John nodded, eyes moving over the field in concentration. "He's not going to leave Sherlock alone unless something is done. Do you think having him change classes is a good idea?"
Greg nodded, gaze thoughtful as he watched the others racing back and forth in front of him. "Don't know but we will soon find out, I'll go talk to the counselor after practice."
John softly agreed before giving Greg a side ways glance. "So, finally approached the Ice Man I see?" When Greg flushed, John chuckled softly. "The nickname doesn't seem to fit him to well. He was rather pleasant despite the earlier tenseness."
"Yeah, he's not really like Sherlock. Mycroft prefers a more subtle approach to things. He carries an umbrella as a way to warn others away from him. He's not unapproachable, he just doesn't want to be bothered." Greg said softly, thoughts drifting back to the blushing ginger from lunch. He had noticed the way Mycroft paid close attention to Sherlock, his eyes seeming to take in everything about the other. "He worries about Sherlock, despite outward appearances."
"You noticed that as well? He paid close attention to everything Sherlock said or did. Almost as if he were afraid of missing something important." John said thoughtfully. He followed Greg out onto the field, glancing over at Sebastian and his friends. "Mycroft is just as protective of Sherlock as Sherlock is of Mycroft."
"I noticed, the tone Sherlock used wasn't one I've ever heard from him before." Greg chuckled as he thought back to lunch. "Let's get through practice then get ready for group tonight. I have a feeling we are going to have an additional member."
John laughed as he shook his head. "You're so sure he will show up tonight?"
"Of course, we mentioned it in front of him, knowing full well Sherlock has probably never even told him about it." Greg grinned, giving John a playful wink he walked over to his position. "Ok, Johnny boy! Let's get this show on the road!"
Sherlock watched as John and Greg raced across the field, their teammates following their lead. He felt his heart flutter as he watched John, a small smile curving his lips at the short blond. John was a fierce player, very competitive, and determined. All traits that appealed to Sherlock and his sense of self worth. Shaking his head, he chuckled softly as he watched the players on the field. He wasn't aware of anyone standing near him until they spoke.
"Are you enjoying practice, Sherlock?"
Turning, Sherlock lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. Looking up, he frowned at the person standing behind him. "Why are you following me? Is there something you require from me or are you simply doing it to agitate me." Sherlock sighed, watching as Jim moved to the side. He wanted to watch John practice today, his one free day of the week where he wasn't obligated to be anywhere else before study group. "What do you want, Jim."
"I just wanted to see what you were doing today? I've never seen you at any of the practices, why are you here today?"
"I have friends on the team." Sherlock turned back to the field, lips curved down in an angry scowl. "You did not answer my question, what do you want."
"I simply wanted to sit and enjoy practice with you. Maybe we could trade ideas on the players we know."
Glancing over at Jim, Sherlock shook his head. "You're friends with Sebastian so there is no valid reason for me to believe what you're saying. The only reason you could be sitting with me now would be..."
"Sherlock?"
Looking up, Sherlock felt his mouth curve into a small smile of welcome. "Hello John, is practice over already?"
John looked between Jim and Sherlock, frowning at how close they were sitting. "We stopped early, coach has somewhere he needs to be in a few. Are you, uh, if you're busy..."
"No, Jim was waiting on Sebastian but wanted to know what I knew about Lestrade." At the soft breath beside him, Sherlock shook his head. "I will meet you in our usual place?"
John nodded, waiting as Sherlock gathered his things and stood. "Be careful, we won't be but a few minutes." John said softly. He brushed a hand across Sherlock's back as they descended down the bleachers. "Sherlock, I don't think you should be around that group anymore. Especially not after how you looked after history."
Shaking his head, Sherlock stepped off the last step and on to the dirt path in front of him. "It was nothing John, just a small annoyance in a group of even smaller annoyances."
John frowned as he led Sherlock over to the locker room doors. "Yeah well the look on your face said different." When Sherlock started to protest, John sighed. "Look, I know what you're going to say and it's not ok but I won't make a fuss. Just be careful on your way to the dorms. You know, you can always wait here for one of us to go with you."
Sherlock shook his head as he stepped back from John. "I will be fine John do not worry. I will see you at group." Turning, Sherlock left John standing in front of the locker room. Humming softly to himself, he wasn't aware he was being followed. His mind was on the evening recital and whether or not his brother would truly make it.
For most of his life, Mycroft has always made it a point to be at any special event Sherlock told him about. Whether it be his sixth grade spelling bee championship or his ninth grade violin recital. Mycroft never missed any of his events. Tonight, however was important. It was Sherlock's first solo since his brothers accident three years ago.
Letting out a soft breath, Sherlock glanced up at the tall building in front of him. Greg and John both stayed in the dorms, sharing a room on the third floor, they enjoyed the use of the common room for study groups. Pushing the door open, Sherlock waited for his eyes to adjust to the semi dark light. Glancing around the crowded room to his right, Sherlock shook his head and headed towards the stairs. He would wait for John and Greg in their room as usual, his distaste for the rowdy crowd downstairs evident as he headed up.
By the time he reached the third floor, Sherlock had decided to call his brother. He was still worried about Mycroft's reaction to Greg. The fact Mycroft had shown any type of reaction made Sherlock wonder. Was there a chance his brother could care for someone other than Sherlock? Would Greg hurt his brother like the other from his past? Shaking his head, Sherlock glanced at the numbers on the door until he reached John's room. He paused at the partially open door, a frown curving his lips down. Pulling out his phone, Sherlock sent a text to John before glancing down the hallway. He wasn't sure what to do until his phone rang. Glancing down, he sighed at the sight of John's name. "John?"
"What do you mean the door is open? Has it been damaged or..."
"It does not look as if the wood has been broken or the lock either. Do you want me to go inside and..."
John cut Sherlock off with a sharp sound, hand tightening around his phone. "Stay out of the room Sherlock, Greg and I are on our way." Glancing over at Greg, John shook his head. "No, Sherlock I'm serious stay out of the..." Pausing mid step, John frowned as the line went dead. "Sherlock?"
"Everything ok, John?"
Shaking his head, John dialed Sherlock's number. "Not really sure, Sherlock said the door was open but it didn't look as if it had been forced. I told him not to go in but..."
Greg frowned. "Let's go, if Moran and his friends got back before we did..." Greg broke off as John took off at a run. "John, John wait!" Sighing in frustration, Greg followed after his friend. Glancing to his left, he noticed the silent ginger watching him. Pausing, he watched as Mycroft flushed before turning away. Torn between going after John and following Mycroft, Greg watched as Mycroft turned, face a light pink, umbrella and bag held tightly in his hands. "Mycroft?" When the other looked up in surprise, Greg grinned. "What are you doing on this side of campus, thought such a posh fellow like you would have their own place."
Mycroft felt his face heating as Greg walked over to where he stood. He had been on his way to see Sherlock, taking the path past the dorms had been a whim. An emotional response to his curiosity about the man now standing in front of him. "I was on my way to meet Sherlock, his recital is this evening and I wanted to see if he was prepared." Taking a deep breath, he let is out slowly as Greg moved closer. Taking a small step back, Mycroft tried to control the fluttering of his stomach. Greg smelled like outdoors and sweat and something else...something uniquely Greg. It was a simple yet strong combination he never thought would appeal to him. "Is there...Gregory did I say something wrong?"
Greg frowned, glancing back in the direction of the dorms. "Not to sure, come with me. John got a call from Sherlock about our room being broken into. He told him to wait for us but..."
"The call was disconnected before you received a response. That means he has an idea of who did it and why." Mycroft finished softly. He gave Greg a small smile at his huff of amusement. "It is something he has been able to do since we were children, his ability to solve puzzles and crimes. Rather helpful on most occasions but it tends to upset those who are guilty."
"So he's like a walking, talking lie detector that can solve puzzles or crimes." Greg glanced over at Mycroft, watching as his expression turned thoughtful. "How much trouble does it tend to get him in?"
Sighing, Mycroft glanced up at the set of double doors now in front of him. "More than I care to remember, Sherlock means well but he does not always understand that others do not share in his desire for complete honesty." He looked around as Greg opened the door, surprised at how neat the lobby was. "Does he spend a lot of time here?" At Greg's small frown, Mycroft shook his head. "Sherlock, does he spend a great deal of time here?" He wanted to know about Sherlock and his relationship with John. But he was also aware that Greg would notice if he were fishing for information.
"Not really, he only comes here on his free days and that's maybe once a week. He and John usually meet me and a few of the other blokes at the lounge." Greg headed towards the stairwell. He was pretty sure the elevator was out of order still and after the last incident...
"I will not tolerate you meddling in things that are not your business...brother."
Looking up at the sharp tone, Greg frowned to see a stone faced Sherlock and red faced John walking towards them. "John, Sherlock, what's the problem here?" Looking from Sherlock to Mycroft, Greg tried to read the two men. He could see the surprise in Mycroft's eyes and the fire in Sherlock's. "Want to tell me what's got you so angry, Sherlock?"
"What is it that you accuse me of, baby brother?" Mycroft could see the anger blazing in Sherlock's eyes. "I was on my way to your recital."
"You are the only one who would break into John's room and do some snooping. What is it you're looking for? What do you want to know about..." Breaking off, Sherlock looked between Greg and Mycroft. "What are you doing with Lestrade? If you were on your way to the recital hall, why..."
"I was on my way back here with John when you called, your brother was headed towards the music hall when I stopped him." Greg frowned as he watched Sherlock search first Mycroft's expression then his. "Seriously Sherlock, Mycroft was not headed towards the dorms when we ran into each other."
Mycroft studied Sherlock's body language before looking over at John. "What is it you found that makes you think it was me? My last class ended twenty minutes ago and it takes..."
"Thirty to get from there to here." Voice soft, Sherlock looked back at John. "Maybe you were right, John."
John glared at Sherlock before turning to Mycroft. "The door hadn't been forced but the room was sacked. Our mattresses were ripped apart and our clothes are everywhere." Sighing, he turned to Greg. "My lucky jersey is missing as are your lucky shorts."
Greg stiffened as he turned to Mycroft. "You're saying that's all that's missing?" He studied the tall, silent ginger. Held the piercing ice gray gaze as Mycroft stood in front of him with a small frown of worry. "You didn't do it but someone did and that is a concern. Who were they after, me, John, or both of us?"
"No, Mycroft would not have stolen anything of value or importance nor would he have the room torn apart." Sherlock said thoughtfully. Pacing from the stairwell to the elevator and back, he ran a distracted hand through his hair. "John's favorite jersey is blue and white and Lestrade's favorite shorts..." Sherlock paused, looking up at Greg, he studied the now flushed face. "He was asking about who I knew at practice today. There is no one who would do something like this unless..." Turning, Sherlock headed back upstairs. "Come John! There is something we have missed!"
John grinned as he looked back at Greg and Mycroft. "Isn't he absolutely fantastic, there is no one else as brilliant as he is." Turning, John followed after Sherlock, shouting at him to wait for them.
Shaking his head, Greg chuckled as he turned back to Mycroft. He frowned at the pale face and worried expression. Wondered why he would look so concerned about John and Sherlock's relationship. "You are aware they spend most of their afternoons together, right?"
"No, I am not always available after classes have ended. I did know of his study group but..." Mycroft broke off as he glanced at Greg. "It is nothing, merely a big brother worrying after his younger brother."
Greg nodded his head in understanding. "Yeah, something you will never get rid of either. Especially not if you have younger siblings." Shaking his head, Greg glanced up the stairs. "Let's go see what they've come up with, if we leave them alone to long Sherlock will go after the guilty party alone."
Nodding, Mycroft followed Greg upstairs. He glanced around the stairwell, frowning at how dim the lighting was. He looked up in surprise as Greg stopped on the third floor landing, he hadn't realized they'd reached their destination while studying the lights. "is it usually so dim inside?"
"It's to help those who have a fear of the dark or vertigo. The light being to bright can throw some off and none at all..."
"Gives one the sense of danger or impending danger." Mycroft finished softly. "Sherlock does not prefer the dark, he has always flourished in light."
Greg studied the silent man walking beside him. Gone was the dark, long coat, in its place was a light gray jacket, waist coat and shirt. "You really mean well by him, don't you?"
Mycroft glanced over at Greg, giving him a shy smile. "We have spent most of our youth with nannies and tutors. The least I can do for him is be as much of a brother as he will allow me." He followed Greg silently, bright gaze looking everywhere but the well built man in front of him. Mycroft tried to ignore the fact that Greg was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. The material was damp, much like his hair, which was dark and curling. The strands made his fingers twitch with a desire to see how they felt. Would they curl around his fingers or...
"Mycroft, are you ok you look a little flushed?"
Blinking in surprise, Mycroft took a deep breath before focusing on the grinning man in front of him. Straightening, he gave Greg a small nod. "Yes, thank you." Turning, he frowned at the sound of his brother's shout. "Sherlock?"
"Mycroft?! Come here, there is something I am missing! There has to be..."
Mycroft followed Greg into the room, frowning at the disaster in front of him. "Who would do such a thing?"
"They are trying to send a message but what I have yet to figure out." Sherlock swept into the room, eyes bright, mouth pursed in thought. "Everything that is missing, however..."
"The window, Sherlock, was it open when you first entered?" Mycroft glanced over at the window, a frown curving his lips down. The papers on the desk were stacked neatly on the desk while everything around it was destroyed.
"No, it was closed, Lestrade closed it before he left for class this morning as per his usual habit. John has not been back since leaving this morning. The papers are still stacked as they had been last night so..." Sherlock stopped in front of Mycroft, eyes wide as he studied his brother. "I need to..."
"No, you have a recital in less than an hour, if you are not there you will simply be upset about it later. We can go after the recital." Mycroft watched as Sherlock's face turned red, lips curved down in an angry pout. "You know I do not wish to deny you your...pleasure. However, you know how hard you practiced for tonight and your friends are sure to be there as well."
Greg watched as Sherlock released a sigh of frustration. He was surprised at how soft Mycroft's tone was, especially considering the look on Sherlock's face. He held his breath as he watched the emotions crossing Sherlock's face. When he let out a soft huff of irritation, Greg shook his head. "Now Sherlock..."
"You promise?" Sherlock held his brother's gaze, searching for any sign of trickery or subterfuge. When Mycroft nodded, Sherlock released a soft breath. "As long as I get to explain it all when the idiots from the Yard arrive."
"Of course, you are the one who figured it out after all." Mycroft watched as Sherlock's expression changed to one of begrudging satisfaction. "Now, if we do not hurry you will be late and you would not wish to keep your audience waiting, would you?" He watched as Sherlock struggled with his decision. He loved the adoration of his listeners but he also loved the attention from the three men in the room. "Sherlock?"
"We will go to the recital then retrieve the stolen items." Nodding, Sherlock looked from Mycroft to Greg and finally John. "You will go with me?" When John nodded, Sherlock let out a pleased sigh of relief. Turning to Mycroft, he frowned. "My violin..."
"Is in the car, Jameson was going to meet us at the music hall so you did not have to worry with carrying it." Following the now anxious brunette, Mycroft glanced at Greg before leaving the room. "I could have him meet us here if you prefer, brother."
Shaking his head, Sherlock left the room and headed back downstairs. "I will be there before he arrives! I must hurry, if I am not there to practice with the others..."
Smiling Mycroft looked back at the two men standing in the hall. "Thank you, forgive us for our hasty departure. Sherlock will return your missing items later this evening." Giving them a small nod, Mycroft turned and followed after his brother. He was aware of the dark gaze that followed him, couldn't resist the urge to glance back before the door closed behind him and paused. Greg was watching but with a look he'd never seen directed at him from anyone before. Usually people looked at Mycroft in a number of different ways. They were either intimidated by the bright eyes and silent expression or they looked at him with begrudging respect. Most looked at Mycroft with angry disdain, usually because much like his brother, he could tell ones past with a glance. The ability to solve puzzles and problems was something that some enjoyed while others found it an annoyance. The look in Greg's eyes, however, was one of interest. A look Mycroft would have never thought directed towards him and not from someone as gorgeous as Greg.
Shaking his head, Mycroft resisted the urge to go back and question the other man. Right now, he needed to focus on catching up to Sherlock and enjoying his recital. Once outside, he paused, searching the area for Sherlock.
"He is interested in you and you in him."
Turning, Mycroft let out a soft sigh of relief, choosing to ignore the soft, curious statement. "Why did you not wait? Come, we must get to the music hall so you can complete a run through." He waited for Sherlock, watching as he struggled with something important. "Sherlock?"
"Are you...it, umm, it would not be like the other, Mycroft. Lestrade is a good sort, much like John. He doesn't really clean but he is a good man. Or he has been to me, especially when Moran and his friends are harassing me or the other underclassmen." Sherlock studied his brother. He could see what Mycroft tried to hide from him, knew that despite his initial silence he was interested in Greg.
Nodding, Mycroft tried to keep up with his brother's ramblings. Long ago, he'd given up trying to make sense of everything Sherlock said and only listen to the important parts. Sometimes, however, the important parts got caught up in Sherlock's chaotic rambles. Much as they did now. "I do not intend to get involved with anyone at this time, baby brother. I have enough on my plate simply trying to keep up with you." At his brother's soft chuckle, Mycroft smiled. He adored his younger brother. Had rejoiced when his parents had told him about the baby's impending arrival and had done everything he could to protect Sherlock since. Running a hand over dark curls, Mycroft felt his smile widen at the pleased look on Sherlock's face. "Tell me more about the piece you are preforming this evening. What is the story behind the music?"
Listening to Sherlock talk about his piece, Mycroft walked with him to the music hall. He was aware of the curious looks from the other's, knew they drew attention no matter where they went. Mycroft was Sherlock's senior by four years, giving him the advantage of age and experience over his brother. This, however, was not why people were curious about them. Despite their height, and air of confidence, it was their looks that made others stop and stare. Both Mycroft and Sherlock were tall, slender, and pale. Where Mycroft had a head full of ginger curls, Sherlock's curls were brunette. Mycroft's eyes were a bright silver or ice gray and could either freeze you in place or make you wonder what will happen next. Sherlock's were a mix of silver, green, and blue, a combination never before seen in a male and rarely with a brunette. Sherlock's gaze had the ability to give one a sense of calm or a sense of danger. Both were intelligent, sharp tongued, and almost untouchable. The only weakness many have seen and most have tried to exploit was the bond between the brothers. Mycroft was overly protective of Sherlock, almost to the point that it bordered on obsession. Sherlock, despite his outwardly scathing disdain for his elder brother, held a deep love for him. He held those in contempt for any wrong done to Mycroft, so much so that he could affect the opinion of those around him. It was not lost on those who knew the siblings that they were complete opposites, still even with their differences...Mycroft loved Sherlock as much as Sherlock loved Mycroft.