He walks back to his house only to find his mother walking outside with Sherlock following behind her. 'Wow. These two are getting along?' he thinks.
He walks towards them. "Hey, what's happening here?" he asks. He looks at Sherlock, who looks absolutely horrified - but is trying to hide his horrid feeling. He looks at his mother who just looks sad. 'What is going on?!' "What's going on?" he asks, alarmed and worried - absolutely worried.
He notices Sherlock and his mother exchange a look. "John..." his mother starts but looks at Sherlock. "Sherlock, would you mind telling John of what is happening?"
"Yes, I would mind," Sherlock answers and his mother gives Sherlock a look and Sherlock shrugs.
It's like these two know each other for a long time. "Have you two met before?"
"Yes," his mother answers.
"Met her in one of my mother's meetings..." Sherlock answers and his mother nods, looking at a distance.
"So what is happening here?" he asks them again.
"We're going to the hospital," his mother replies.
"What?! Why?!" His mother looks at Sherlock. They share a look for only a few seconds. If he wasn't blinking, he would've missed it. Suspicious.
"Sherlock...?" His mother looks expectantly at Sherlock.
Sherlock shakes his head, "I want to be honest to you, John," he notices his mother sigh in relief. "And to be honest, I don't want to tell you why." He and his mother both look at Sherlock - who is leaning on the car. "Now, may we please go to the hospital?"
"Alright. Alright," he answers. He wants to ask more. He almost said, "No. We won't go until you tell me why." But he realised how horrible that sounds. Sherlock obviously needs medical attention. Sherlock sits on the back and he tags along, sitting beside the driver's seat.
"You're really not going to say anything about this?" he asks Sherlock as they drive.
"No."
"And you know why?" he asks his mother.
His mother's lips tighten and she exhales. "Yes." She whispers.
"Tell me," he demands.
"No."
"Mum..."
"It's not my business to tell, John. Surely, you respect that," his mother looks at him. He stares outside the window, looking away from her.
She sighs and the drive to the hospital has been silent since.
"We're here," his mother says.
He and his mother walks out of the car and they both look at Sherlock - who is still in the car, staring straight ahead.
He notices Sherlock's hand tremble slightly. "Sherlock...?" he asks.
Sherlock turns to look at them and the look on Sherlock's eyes speak volume. Sherlock looks... lost. vulnerable. afraid. horrified... all he didn't know he'd see from his friend's face. What is happening?!
He hears footsteps far away. He comes back to reality and hears the footsteps were much closer than he thought it was. He looked at the owners - three pairs - of these footsteps.
He sighs in relief when the Holmes family are all there. How did they-? His mother probably convinced Sherlock to call his family. Good.
"Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Holmes, Mycroft, hello..." he greets them, shaking the Holmes parents' hand and nodding at Mycroft.
"John, Dr. Watson... We're here for Sherlock..." Mycroft says with... concern? in his eyes.
"We were worried sick. He was in the house and he suddenly disappeared!" Mrs. Holmes shakes her head in disbelief.
"Please, take him to the hospital," Mr. Holmes adds. "Hey..." Mr. Holmes taps on the window.
Sherlock - who has been looking at him (he notices that too and never removed eye-contact), suddenly looks at his parents with impassive eyes.
"Yes, father?" Sherlock asks.
"Kindly get out of the car, please." Mr. Holmes asks.
"No."
"No." Sherlock says. She looks at everyone concerned. She looks at his son, John just looks... disappointed? It kills her that she cannot tell his own son what has been going on with his best friend. She looks at Sherlock. How strong is he to say that to his father? Yes, that was quite the courage. But it will kill him.
"Come on..." Mr. Holmes says. Everyone else may be fooled. But she knows he is threatening the poor child. She never even heard him say his own son's name... Not ever.
"No." Sherlock insists. Sherlock can be brave. But now is not the time to be stupid. This is suicide.
"Don't make me drag you out of this car and pull you to the hospital..." Mr. Holmes's voice would have sounded like he is concerned and threatening Sherlock for his own good, but she knows better. He would do that. With force and brutal violence.
"I can't..." Sherlock whimpers.
"Explain..." Mrs. Holmes says.
"Sherlock, please. We only want to help," John says. Oh god, John. If only you knew...
"Sherlock, get out of the car please..." Sherlock's brother says.
"I really can't," Sherlock says, distressed. She knows in an instant that if Sherlock didn't want to go with them, he would have ran. But no, John is here. He would have followed. Then why is he staying in the car?
She remembers his leg.
"We need to carry him up there," she tells everyone and they look at her.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Holmes tells her. She wants to just stab Mrs. Holmes in the fucking face.
"I inspected his leg earlier. It's not looking good," she tells them.
A minute later we're wheeling him in the hospital.
What is happening in the world? Sherlock's still in hospital for a long time. He guesses Sherlock will be staying for days then.
He looks at his mother and Mycroft. The three of them were the only ones left in the hospital. Sherlock's parents already left for something important. He guesses Sherlock's parents can be as cold as their sons as well. Too concentrated on their work to let emotions get the better of them.
"Doctor Watson, please. Tell me what you've found out..." Mycroft insists.
"I can't. I'm sorry. I was sworn not to say anything... Doctor-Patient Confidentiality, you know?"
"Sherlock is technically a minor."
"I don't care," his mother snaps and they all look at her. "I can't talk. I'm sorry," she says quietly.
"What's wrong with Sherlock, mum?" he asks her and she looks absolutely distressed.
"I can't say, little John..." His heart aches for her use of his old nickname.
"Mum... please..."
"It's not my business to tell..."
'That's what Mary just said. That's what everyone's been telling me these days. Does everyone know something I don't?!'
"Mrs. Watson, please," Mycroft says. "Please tell me. He's my little brother. I have to know."
"I'm not sure if I can," his mother says.
The doctor tells them that they're allowed to get inside Sherlock's room now.
He gets in first and asked his mother and Mycroft to wait for a minute. They let him.
He looks at Sherlock and he sees him. He looks half-dead.
He has bruises and cuts all over his bare chest. His eyes have deep bags under them.
If it wasn't for the heart monitor beeping beside him, he would've thought Sherlock's dead.
Has Sherlock been in this state for a long time? How can he not notice?
He's been too blind.
He can't help but feel guilty. He sits beside Sherlock's bed and looks at his best friend. Someone who sacrificed so much for him.
He underestimated how much Sherlock thinks about him.
"I'm sorry Sherlock," he wraps his hand around Sherlock's hand.
John comes out with red-rimmed eyes. "Mycroft..." John nods at him.
He underestimated John and Sherlock's relationship. He knows that he could trust John with Sherlock.
If only Sherlock sees that John cares about him as well as he does.
His brother is really stupid.
Speaking of his brother, he enters the room as John goes to his mother.
He looks at the skin and bones that is said to be his brother.
He looks at the cuts and the bruises. He looks at Sherlock's face. He sees and notices.
He observes.
He hates himself for not seeing this sooner.
This is horrible.
He is a failure of a brother.
Now he knows why Sherlock ran away from his house a long time ago. It wasn't because he was seeking danger. It's because he was running away from it. And he made him stay with these... monsters.
He doesn't want to believe it but the facts are there.
Sherlock's being abused.
How didn't he see this before? He should be the smarter one between the two.
But Sherlock is good at hiding his secrets and it would take Sherlock Holmes to fool him.
Always.
He can usually see past that. This time... He knows his brother did a lot of effort into hiding this secret from him.
"Oh, baby brother... What to make of you?" he whispers to himself.
He brushes Sherlock's hair from his eyes and sees his Seven-year-old brother again. He shakes the thought out of his head.
He is going to make their parents pay.
"Doctor Watson, a word?" he tells Doctor Watson.
"John, go to Sherlock. He needs you," she tells John.
John gives a suspicious look and goes back to Sherlock.
He walks Doctor Watson further away from Sherlock's room.
"What is it, Mr. Holmes?" she asks and he just wants to vomit.
"Mycroft, please," he tells her. Mr. Holmes is his father. He will never be like him.
"Mycroft... what do you need?"
"Information."
"On?"
"Everything you know about Sherlock's medical problems..."
"The doctor already told us what we need to know."
"You're Sherlock's doctor. Tell me what has been going on for the past years."
"I can't. I'm sorry I can't."
"Please, Doctor Watson. I need to know. That's my brother out there..."
"I'm sorry..."
He sighs, "Doctor Watson, I know you have been fond of my brother for a long time. I know you care about him as if he is your own son. I've noticed how you've acted when he's distressed earlier. You want to help. And I can help you help him... But in order to do that. You need to help me help you so you can help him."
He sounds confusing. But John's mother understands.
She looks at the direction of Sherlock's room.
Should she trust Sherlock's brother? Is he like their parents?
She will never know.
But she doesn't have any choice. But to tell him.
Fuck the Holmes' parents.
"Sherlock's being child abused..."
The confirmation hurts him like a building just fell on him and he's trapped six feet over.
He wants to vomit but he can't.
He doesn't trust his own voice.
Why does this have to happen to his little brother?
"How long?" he asks, his voice hitching.
"Since he was born," Doctor Watson says, sadly.
His hands tighten around his umbrella. He tries to keep calm. He really does.
That is until he was being treated for the blood on his hands for punching the wall too much.
He. Mycroft Holmes. Losing his composure.
His brother. Sherlock Holmes. Being child abused.
He hates his parents so much.
And then a dreaded question enters his mind.
'Why was Sherlock being child abused and not me?'
He hates that question so much now. It's probably why sometimes Sherlock keeps annoying him by doing things to make him stay in their house. He now knows why, as a kid, Sherlock keeps following him around the house. Just by staying in the room he is in. He should have known by then.
He should have thought that his parents are awful.
He blinded himself because he thought his parents were the best of the best.
"Sherlock's being child abused..."
Her own mouth tasted sour as she said the words. She never said those words out loud before. She never had the chance of saying it. Not even to Sherlock himself. Because everyone involved knew already and everyone involved doesn't want anyone to know.
This is the first time she said this.
It is the worst thing she ever said. Because it's true.
Mycroft hits the wall beside him a lot of times and keeps yelling. He throws the umbrella with much force and keeps punching the wall. The nurses are all pulling him away to stop himself from hurting. His knuckles are bleeding but he keeps yelling.
She doesn't see him shed a tear.
Because Mycroft Holmes is not sad.
Mycroft Holmes is homicidal.
And she knows Mycroft would kill his own parents.
Oh sweet merciful Jesus.
"Sherlock's being child abused..."
He heard it. After hearing his mother and Mycroft walk away. He tiptoed and followed them and listened to their conversation.
His head is swimming. He pauses and freezes.
His legs fall underneath him and he falls on the floor, he does so without a sound so he would not be heard.
He hears someone yell and scream and he turns to look. Mycroft. Cold calculating ice king Mycroft is yelling and punching the wall with so much force his hand bleeds.
Mycroft does care.
Mycroft doesn't cry.
He knows Mycroft will kill.
The nurses pull him away and he finds himself in a panic attack.
Sherlock's being child abused.
But his parents were nice to him.
Oh my god. It explains everything.
It explains why Sherlock panicked after he broke his mother's tea cups.
It explains why Sherlock's face was too red. He didn't slap himself. His mother probably fucking slapped him.
He punches the wall beside him. Once. Just once.
Those fuckers will pay.
Now he knows why Sherlock wanted to leave so much. Why he left all of a sudden. Why he didn't want to be found. Because Sherlock knows he would be taken back to his parents and get even worse punishment.
He remembers when he almost told him. ALMOST.
"Well, I never had time to explain myself to you."
"Ahuh."
"I didn't contact you when I left because... because..."
"Because...?"
"Because... Because I didn't want to be found."
"Didn't want to be found?"
"That's what I said, yes."
"Why didn't you want to be found?"
"Because I had to die."
"What?!"
"I have more enemies than I usually had and I had to step back into the shadows."
"Enemies? Who? Your bullies? That's not a reasonable excuse to disappear!"
He closes his eyes. How horrible of a person is he? The one time Sherlock finally wanted to tell him and he threw it on his face. How can Sherlock still want him back? Why does Sherlock let him go with the way he treats him? He treats Sherlock lower than shit. He treats Sherlock like he's a slave. Nothing to say. Forced to say what is good. Scared of telling what he did wrong.
Oh god. Sherlock's being child abused.
"John?" His mum looks down at him. "What are you doing here?"
He has tears in his eyes. "Is Sher... Sherlock... being...a-abu-abused?" He sobs.
"Yes," he hears his mother whisper.
He's feeling faint. He's in shock. He can tell that.
Sherlock's being child abused.