It's quite a surprise, really. He's really taken by surprise. Indeed, he wants to go back to his old life, not the life of drugs and abuse... He wants to go back to being a student again.. Although getting abused by the parents and doing drugs on the side, it wasn't the main focus... He wants that life again... But John doesn't want him.
And now these idiots want him.
"What?" He asks, not really in the mood right now.
"Oh, Sherlock isn't being cooperative today," a guy with jet-black hair in a suit laughs. He's leaning on the wall, hands on his pockets with a smile on his face. He tilts his head at him. "Jim Moriarty, hi," he says in a high-pitched voice.
"Irrelevant," he answers, rolling his eyes and Jim laughs.
"I can see why you like him," he tells Moran. Moran gives him a look and Jim laughs.
He is starting to really hate that laugh.
"Oh come on, captain!" One of the Rugby Team says.
'Captain? He's the captain of the Rugby Team now? What happened to John? He loves Rugby! Why him? Moran isn't even remotely good at-'
His thoughts stop as a hand grips his neck. Sherlock, on instinct, grips the hands tight and about to do a wrist lock when the grip stops and he stumbles backwards.
He hears Jim laughing again and he just wants to stuff Jim Moriarty's mouth with a shoe. It's getting on his nerves. "Oh-ho-ho! Look what we got here!" Jim tells everyone, circling him. "It seems our friend here is used to being strangled to death... I wonder why... Hmm..." Jim looks at him and he gives Jim a deadly glare. He can physically see the spark of crazy in his eyes. "Secretive, you are... Well I better be off... So nice to have a proper chat..."
"I didn't even get to talk," He answers and Jim grins.
"For the next few minutes, I believe that you'll lose your vocal chords..." Jim grins wickedly and he tries so hard not to kill him already. Jim leaves and the Rugby Team is staring at him with evil grins on their faces. Some are even looking at him like a drug. They really miss him, don't they?
"Watson ain't the captain now, Shercock," one of them says.
"Oh I've been waiting a long time to do this," Moran punches him on the face. His jaw hurts. But he's somehow used to it now and Moran's hit - though forceful and a good hit - is nothing compared to his father and mother. He crosses his arms at the thought of his parents. "Now." He hears Moran yell.
And that's when it started - again.
They threw him to the ground, kicked every part of his body. His back burning as they kick old wounds and bruises. They punch him multiple times on the stomach and the chest. He grunts, moans in pain quietly. He looks at his watch - nine o'clock.
He doesn't want this. He closes his eyes and breathe in as calmly as he can. John's rejection of him plus his current beating and the fact that he is two hours late from coming back home is over-whelming. His life is a disaster and he admits that much.
He limps out of the alley. Clutching his ribs. Their hits may not be as strong but there were many of them. He got quantity over quality. With his father, now that is some good quality torture.
He tries to walk back to his house. But it is painful.
And then he panics when a black car pulls over beside him. Not-Anthea comes out, "Mr. Holmes."
Seeing as he has no choice, he gets in the car. Much to his surprise, his brother is sitting beside him. "Take the longest way to the manor," Mycroft tells the driver,
He rolls his eyes. "So... what am I doing here?"
"I saw you needed help. I came right away," Mycroft answers.
"I don't need your help." He snaps.
"Sherlock, how long?" Mycroft asks. He raises his brow at Mycroft, "How long have those boys been beating you up like this?" Mycroft sighs deeply, closing his eyes as if in pain.
He never saw his brother like this before. He doesn't want to see his brother like this again.
"Not in a while," he answers.
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying. We haven't interacted for a very long time."
Mycroft nods to himself and seeing as the conversation is over, he looks out of the window.
'How could I not see this? I am going to be part of the British Government in a few years and look at me, not knowing my brother is being beaten up by his peers. I'm not a good brother. How could I be so blind? Am I blind? I am blind.'
He looks at his brother. Sherlock seems peaceful, looking out of the window as well. If it wasn't for the bruises and cuts and dirt, he'd say that nothing was wrong.
He has to protect Sherlock.
'What Mycroft doesn't know will not hurt him.'
On the contrary to everyone's belief, he does care about his brother. But he will never admit that.
He has to protect Mycroft.
"Are there any more cuts and bruises I should be aware of?" Mycroft asks.
"Nope," he answers.
"You clutched your ribs. How many are broken?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Well you better understand what I mean. We're here."
Bart's Hospital.
"I don't need this Mycroft!" he yells at him in the car. He doesn't need this. He can clean his own wounds, for goodness' sake! What's the point of going in a hospital if you can fix your own wounds. He winces at his own words, 'Fix? I'm not broken.'
"Yes, you do, Sherlock," Mycroft answers. "Your state won't be grand in the eyes of our parents."
He agrees but he will never say that out loud. "I'm fine," he says irritatingly.
"And does the word 'fine' mean completely bruised and in pain?"
'It seems that way in this world, probably.'
"No. Fine means fine. I am fine," he rolls his eyes at Mycroft.
"Get out of the car, or I'll have to force you."
"You're forcing me?"
"WILL force you if you don't get out."
"I'm not going out."
Mycroft gets his phone from his pockets. He looks at Mycroft in alarm. "Well, better tell your friend, Watson, that you spent one year in-"
"Fine. Fine. Fine. I'll go. Sheesh," he raises his hands in mocking defeat.
He gets out of the car and walks in the hospital with his brother.
'One year. He's been gone one year. And he comes back spontaneously like some wizard.'
He admits that he misses the bastard but he's angry with him. How can he just leave his whole life like that? Without even something to tell them?
Although it probably was his fault. He yelled at him. And he doesn't remember what he said. That's the awful part.
'What if I said something completely horrible at him and I don't remember it? What's the point of asking for forgiveness if you don't even remember what you're sorry for?'
He looks at Mary beside him. Mary's his anchor now. Not Sherlock.
He sees Molly Hooper in the hospital.
"Hello," she greets him.
"Molly," he nods at her and proceeds to walk with his brother out of the hospital.
Molly tries to walk with them, "I just want to thank you... again... for finding Toby..."
"You're welcome, Molly Hooper," he gives a forced smile and walks out with is brother leaving Molly in the hospital.
"Okay..." Molly says to herself.
"The same Molly Hooper who-" Mycroft starts as the car drives off.
"Yes, the same Molly Hooper who." He answers, annoyed.
"She doesn't seem bothered with it," his brother tells him.
"Her parents work in a hospital, of course she isn't bothered with it."
"Well, I wouldn't have thought someone would still fancy you after witnessing you OD."
"Wrong place at the wrong time."
"You were helping her find the cat and then used at her back garden."
"Who cares?"
"I'm going to have a word with the parents."
"You sound like a teacher."
"Don't even compare me with such idiocy."
"Whatever you say, Professor Mycroft Holmes."
Mycroft frowns and he is proud of himself for making his brother frown. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
'I'll visit Sherlock tomorrow.'
He thinks to himself. Good thing Sherlock's brother gave him the address of their house.
"COME HERE!" He hears his father.
"AT ONCE!" He hears his mother continue.
He walks to the sitting room with his head down.
"Would you mind explaining what happened?" Violet asks.
"And don't lie." Siger tells him.
"I-I got... I.." He stutters.
Violet comes up to him and slaps him with her left hand. He can really feel her ring. What a ring.
"Talk." She says with murder.
"I got beaten up," he mutters.
Violet slaps him again. "Say that again."
"I GOT BEATEN UP!" He yells.
Violet slaps him thrice. Hard. With each hand. "Don't yell at your own mother," she says quietly, as if she's talking to the Queen.
Violet and Siger look at each other and nod. Violet gestures Siger to go to him.
His face is in pain. There must be multiple hand prints on his face. Her slaps are as bad as his.
"What did I say about yelling in the house?" Siger asks him.
"That it breaks our vocal chords?" He answers. Siger slaps him, but a little less force than his mother. 'Odd.'
"Don't act all smart. We all know, you aren't. You pathetic idiot."
"I AM NOT AN IDIOT!" He yells.
His father puts his hands on his neck and tightens his grip. He slaps him, hard. The kind of slap he always does. Now he isn't pulling back. Violet stands beside Siger, yelling at him. Telling him what an idiot he is for not being good enough, for not seeing where he was going, for not outsmarting those idiots, for being pathetic, for ruining the family name. "You are no son of mine," she finishes.
"I really want to kill him, Violet," Siger says.
"You're not the only one with that wish, Siger," she answers.
He has tears in his eyes. Begging for everything to stop. He wants to tell them that he wishes that as well. He'd rather be killed now. He can't do this anymore. His parents hates him. Mycroft will hate him if he tells the truth. John hates him. Everyone and everything hates him.
He wants it to stop.
"Please..." he whispers, trying to remove Siger's hands on his neck.
"What was that?" Violet asks.
"Please..." he says louder.
"Please what?" The two looks at him with raised brows.
"Please kill me..." He closes his eyes as tears fall down from his eyes. He said it. He finally said it. He told them. He finally tells them what he wants.
Violet and Siger look at each other and laughs. 'Laughter. They laugh. They mock me with their laughter. I knew even killing me would be a dream.'
"We're not killing you. What if someone asks where you are? We can't lie full time. That would be a lot of work. They'll probably find out we killed you. We'd rather not go to jail, no matter how much we don't want you to exist," Violet tells him.
He closes his eyes in frustration. Siger is capable of breaking him through violence and a bit of words. Violet is capable of breaking him through words and a bit of violence. He can't do this. Tears fall from his eyes but he doesn't make a sound. Not anymore. He gives up.
He gives up.
Siger removes his grip and he continues doing his chores. Closing the door to the house. Going to the basement and sleeping in the closet there - Violet decided that he would spend a week sleeping there as punishment for getting beaten up.
He wants Mycroft to help him. But he knows that Mycroft thinks highly of his parents. It would break him. He doesn't want that for his brother. He'd rather have this than the alternative. He can deal with pain - he has gone through a lot of it. Surely a little more won't hurt.
He goes through his old habits.