I've been thinking about writing for some other things lately, and I was curious to know if I were to start writing for Doctor Who, Star Trek, or Batman would you guys read? I don't know if it would be any good but I'm considering it.

At an early age Sherlock Holmes had rather enjoyed school.

After all why wouldn't he? A chance to fill his head with all sorts of facts and ideas, it was the most wonderful idea he'd ever heard of. In fact up until fifth grade he was a model student. It was only during middle school that his transformation from model student to infamous outcast took place, leading to his being kicked out of the fine private school the Holmes family had attended for generations and set into a regular public school. Even there he still had his problems. Right now his current problem was twice his size and a quarter of his IQ.

"Hold him still! I don't want the little fucker squirming around!"

Sherlock felt the breath driven from his body as George and Kyle slammed him against the bathroom wall, his head making a worrying cracking sound against the tile. The main threat, a beefy ginger boy named Sean, walked up to Sherlock wearing a smirk.

"So, freak. Isn't there something you're supposed to tell me?" The boy cracked his knuckles, no doubt imitating action film stars.

"I feel obligated to point out your striking resemblance to the mountain gorilla." Sherlock replied nonchalantly. "If that's what you mean."

Sean pulled a sour face and pulled back his fist, slamming it straight into Sherlock's nose. The pale boy felt a warm trickle of blood sliding down his face.

"I wanted those test answers. I know you have them, you always have them. You know everything." Sean snarled.

"I thought you were supposed to be demoralizing me." Sherlock tasted blood as he talked, but he smirked anyway.

"We both know how easily rumor of your little 'habit' could spread if you don't start helping me." Sean hissed. "Wouldn't want you to get pulled in by the Yard, your precious mum would die of a heart attack."

"I've seen his mum. It's no loss." Kyle added.

"Oh, you're showing so much wit today, Kyle." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Careful talking about his mum." George told Kyle. "He's sensitive about that, seeing as she's the only girl that'll ever touch him."

"Please." Sherlock rolled his eyes earning himself a well aimed punch to the stomach.

"Nah, George. He's a faggot remember?" Sean chuckled darkly. "Not that it matters. He's not getting any anytime soon." Sean gave Sherlock one last hard punch and then waved for his friends to let him go. They headed for the bathroom door, and Sean turned around one last time.

"Don't forget I want answers for the next test, freak." He threatened before all three bullies departed. Once alone Sherlock fell to the ground, coughing from hits to the stomach and the blood that had trickled from his mouth. He tilted his head back and pinched his nose to try and slow the nosebleed.

His mouth fell into an angry scowl, the scowl slowly turned into a small sob and soon he was sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up against his chest and his face on his knees. He knew his clothes would be bloodstained but he didn't care.

"You alright, mate?"

Sherlock looked up, he hadn't realized someone had entered the bathroom but there he was standing right in front of him.

"Fine." He growled, standing up and trying to push past the newcomer.

"Whoa, hang on there." The newcomer put a hand on Sherlock's chest to stop him. "I heard something going on in here. Did you get beat up?"

Sherlock glared at the boy, doing a cursory look over.

Year above me. Family has military history. Interested in medicine. Average student, stressed about project. Recently broke up with girlfriend.

"It's none of your concern." He said angrily. "I'm not interested in your help."

"Yeah, nice try you stubborn sod." The boy sighed and pulled Sherlock forcibly over to the sinks. "Sit there. Wait."

Sherlock folded his arms over his chest, irritated at being pushed around. "If you're trying to ease your conscience let me assure you: I don't need help, I don't need a friend."

"You need a doctor." The boy returned to Sherlock's side with a handful of paper towels. He started cleaning the blood off Sherlock's face and instructed the reluctant patient to hold the leftovers to his nose to stop the bleeding.

"John Watson." He finally introduced himself. Sherlock glared warily at him before offering his own name.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"You must really piss people off, Sherlock." John chuckled.

"Brilliant deduction." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"There's that charm." John laughed. "Alright the bleeding will have stopped by now."

"You should fire your tutor." Sherlock said suddenly, and John couldn't conceal his surprise.

"How did you...?"

"You're here after school hours, but judging by your style of dress and lack of scrapes and bruises you don't play sports. You've got "library after school" written on your hand and a failed test sticking out of that binder you were carrying." Sherlock nodded over to the binder on the floor where Sherlock had first met with the newcomer. "But considering the fact that you're still failing tests means she's not a good tutor which also means you're only going to these tutoring sessions because your tutor has some redeeming quality of some sort." Sherlock sighed. "She must be lovely but she's not helpful to your grade."

"Amazing."

Sherlock looked up at John and was surprised to see a look of admiration on his face.

"That's not what people usually say." He remarked.

"What do they usually say?"

"Piss off."

John chuckled and Sherlock soon joined in. He was surprised to find himself laughing, but something about John just put his mind at ease.

"Alright so I have a hot tutor." John admitted. "But why are you you here? School's been out for half an hour."

"I don't like to go home." Sherlock explained.

"Couldn't you go to a friend's house?" John asked, shrugging. Sherlock just looked back at him silently as if the question was too obvious for an answer.

"No then...?"

"No."

"Well you could always be my new tutor." John suggested. "Seeing as I apparently need a new one. You know, just if you need an excuse."

"...That sounds...acceptable." Sherlock considered.

"Alright. I can pass my finals and you don't get beat up in the washroom." John smiled. Sherlock's only response was a half scowl. He hoped he didn't have to get attached to this kid, the last thing he needed was a friend.