Hi all! Sorry for not uploading and all. I've had a major knock back in my self-esteem and depression. Never mind that though! When you read this, please please comment, it helps me so much.
Also, I know this fanfiction is based on the themes of violence, abuse, depression and self harm, but PLEASE realise I am not writing this to romanticize it. If you need help with these issues, please seek it. Also, you can PM me for my email and I can message at ANY time. I am here for y'all.
Don't forget to comment:3
John rose out of a sweat-inducing sleep, shaking. The man next to him, already awake had his hand on his face.
"I was trying to wake you, John. You were talking in your sleep. Typical signs of distress or recurring nightmares," Sherlock whispered quietly, it was only 5 am. "I suggest you go to the school counsellor to get this sorted out. You don't have to hide it from me, I know it was probably to do with your Father, the bastard." He mumbled under his breath.
"Ur- yeah. Sorry," John answered tiredly, he climbed into Sherlock's arms and fell back to sleep.
"Oh," Sherlock said in surprise before reaching for John's phone. He unlocked it easily after observing John once, and checked his boyfriends messages.
"John, can you visit home in the holidays? Come on the twenty eighth to the Fourth. Dad."
Sherlock's mind started racing, twelve different scenarios where possible, from unlikely congratulations to the possibility that he found out John was homosexual. Sherlock began thinking and running the possibilities though his mind when John turned over. Sherlock half giggled at the sight of his partner in his morning glory.
"Morning, nice to see you are happy to see me," Sherlock winked down at John's hard on.
"Oh shut up!" John winced before flicking the blankets off him. "And get off my phone," he laughed before taking Sherlock's hand into his own. Teasing Sherlock's own growing erection he started to stroke his own.
"Ur- John- what are you doing?" Sherlock looked confused at the man next to him.
"Wait- you have never... You don't masturbate Sherlock?" John quizzed with a smile. Sherlock shook his head whilst John started to move the other mans hand down his naked body. "It's ok, you know?" John started to stroke his length harder and lied back on the bed. Taking John's lead, worried he'd think bad of him if he didn't, mirrored Johns movements on his own cock. He moved himself against the adjacent wall and sat with his legs over John's limp body.
"This - isn't - too - bad," Sherlock gasped between words. He tightened his grip as the other man did, copying all movements still.
"Want help?" John winked before moving himself under Sherlock's legs. Leaning in towards Sherlock he rubbed their lengths together, grunting. Sherlock threw his head back, banging it on the wall. Sherlock climbed on top of John, rubbing harshly against the other man's member. John bucked his hips, making them both come onto each other simultaneously. The taller man flopped onto John breathing heavily.
"I'll do that more often," Sherlock laughed, moving across the room to the shower. Before ducking into the small tiled room, he grabbed a towel, new clothes and his razor. He needed to clean.
When Sherlock was in the shower, John searched for his phone in the bed covers, he knew that Sherlock must had been on it when he had fallen back to sleep because of the sudden movement when he had rolled over. Today was the day before he had to leave for his fathers, already ridden in fear, he started to pack extra thick jumpers; he had found this helped reduce bruises. As he was packing he managed to slip into some loose fitting clothes.
"Um, Sherlock?" He spoke through the thin bathroom door, "I know you know that I am going to my Father's tomorrow. I am kind of really nervous, so can you just be near your phone a lot? I'll probably need support. He shouldn't know about us, and I can't afford to let him know. I am sorry." He unplugged the hair curlers by the bathroom door and slid them through the door to Sherlock once the water had stopped. He couldn't stop smiling at the fact that the great Sherlock Holmes curled his hair. Sherlock mumbled a mere thanks before reentering the room.
"Hello curly," John teased.
"Shut up." Sherlock spat before pulling his boyfriend in closer by his hips and hushing him with a crushing kiss. "When you are with him, it will be ok. I alerted Mycroft already and he has two of his men moving into the house two doors down and with extra help on standby. I'll be on my phone." John nodded and buried his head into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock awkwardly patted him on the back, he had never been good at helping people.
BANG BANG
"I'll be down in five minutes, Sir!" John called out in military formation. He turned his phone of to see the message from Sherlock, "HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE -SH".
"Good boy. Make me some toast when you are down there. We are leaving in 23 minutes." The man barked from behind the door.
"Yes sir," John replied before putting down his phone and getting into a thick jumper. Today was the first whole day at 'home' since the start of school. On the way 'home' from the train station his father had already made two racist remarks. John had only heard from Sherlock once, which was that morning. It didn't feel like home to John anymore, being with Sherlock - that was home, not being in a house where I am scared to go in the same room as him. He had always figured that all parents were like his father until a couple of years ago, where the school did a presentation about abuse. He really hated his Father for it but he had to deal. His phone buzzed as Harry's name came on the screen:
"Heard you were at Dad's this new year, good luck bro! Also, if any advances happen with Sherly let me know ;) -HW"
Damn her, John joked to herself before walking down the stairs silently.
In the next five to ten minutes, his Father had eaten the toast John reluctantly made and they had left the house. John's Father, in his usual attire, found himself alone in the car after leaving John to lock up.
"Get in boy, we will be late," the man ordered. John looked up from his phone and trotted to the car half-heartedly. He nodded to the two men leaving the house two doors down before joining his father. He had just received a text from Sherlock, something to do with a case and that he won't be able to text until the day after. John nodded it off as a mediocre case and smiled it off. "What are you smiling about?" Mr. Watson quizzed as they were pulling out of the driveway.
"Nothing," John replied under his breath. You have to be more careful, it will be like those nightmares if you let him know, you know what he did to Harry, the voice in his head sneered. Occasionally he head a voice in his head besides his consciousness, his counsellor said it was just due to the stress of his life. The voice sometimes adapted to the person he is influenced most by, so most his life it would have been his father but recently it's been Sherlock.
"Ok, now. I have an important day planned for us. We will be meeting my old squadron leader before going shopping at the local supermarket promptly at 2:30 pm. You will be under best behaviour in front of him, I can't have him think I have raised a weakling, understood?"
"Yes sir," John nodded at the two men again as they drove past them.
"Probably bloody fags, stupid dick heads. Complete waste of-" his Father spat under his breathe.
"Father, they are doing nothing wrong." John started to protest but hushed himself almost immediately. John and his Father drove awkwardly onto the main road. After ten minutes of cursing and tossing off innocent drivers, they left and continued into a private country road. As John didn't know the proposed destination of the trek, he decided to ask his Father.
"Just sit back and enjoy the solitude," was John's reply to his disappointment. His phone buzzed.
"Who in the bloody hell is texting you now?" His Father demanded. John slyly peeked at the name 'SHERLOCK' and smiled to himself, how he missed being in his presence.
"Oh, no one sir... Just my friend, Sherlock," he cringed at the lie.
"Sherlock? Ha! What a stupid name!" Mr. Watson proclaimed. John felt his ears go red.
"It's not. It's... Traditional," John heard himself protest before he was able to stop himself. "And he's a good mate of mine."
"Mate? Suuuuurrre," his father joked meanly. "What's your deal John? Stay away from the rich snobs."
"I will not stay away from Sherlock!" John felt his anger growing, why can't he just be a regular father and accept the fact I am... Gay...?
"Why not? He sounds... What's the word... Like a fag! Wait..." He widened his eyes in disbelief. His father stopped the car almost immediately on the country lane and got out. John's heart sank. There was no military personnel around. It was complete silence apart from his breathes and a distant helicopter buzzing around the distant horizon.
"What's going on?" John asked, ducking out of the car. "Sir?" His father walked around the car and slammed John into the bonnet. "Dad! Stop!" John pleaded.
"YOU'RE GAY TOO, HUH?" He bellowed only a few centimeters from John's ear.
"What does it matter now? You'll kick me out like you did to.. Like you did to Harry! I cannot change who I am," John started crying. His father grew pale with fury before wrapping his fingers around John's throat tightly.
"It was my idea, Sherlock," he said tutting, "miNE!" He threw the table across the room at the younger man.
"I- I-" Sherlock barely stammered.
"NO. It was MY idea Sherlock. Now little Johnny will have to pa-a-a-aay," the irish man sang. Sherlock's head snapped up in shock. The table had barely moved two meters in his direction before the man was on top of him.
"Bad. Bad. Bad." The man punctuated every word by gashing Sherlock's cheekbone open.
"How do you know about him?" Sherlock whimpered, rising to his feet. He wiped the blood off his face before sexily ruffling his ragged hair, in the fashion that drove John crazy.
"Oh Sherlock, you need to notice more. I, James Moriarty, and my henchman slash partner in crime over there," he said pointing towards Sebastian Morgan, who he had already introduced earlier, "we have a little, humble empire growing. We already hold two positions in the government and three majors in the Army. Why am I telling you this, you may ask? Because I want to WATCH YOU BURN!" He screamed in Sherlock's face.
"Very... Admiring of you," Sherlock laughed whilst whipping his phone out. He had a message from Mycroft. Without looking at the message, he returned it to his jacket pocket. "I must be off now. One last question, what will you do now?" Sherlock said, walking to the door.
"Burn you."
"Mycroft, what's happened?!" Sherlock demanded, the urgency rose in his voice. He picked up his pace as he started to run through the deserted fields.
"John's been admitted to hospital."
"Is he alive?"
"Scraping it. Took a dangerous blow to the head, losing quite a bit of blood. Also, his Father tried to strangle him. He is struggling to breathe. We are sending him to the best. For you, Sherlock."
"Good."
"He is in the helicopter coming to you know. How fitting you two were so close without realising it." Sherlock mumbled at his older brother. Always thinking he's better than me, bastard.
"Now is not the time for games, Mikey,"
"What were you doing today Sherlock?" Ignoring Sherlock's remark.
"I had a talk with James Moriarty, I don't see how it's your problem," Sherlock replied.
"Jim Moriarty? THE Jim Moriarty? Sherlock I told you specifically to stay away from him! What will mummy and daddy think?" Mycroft teased to hide his growing anger at his longer sibling. Sherlock had never listened to Mycroft, and now he was in life threatening danger. "And I presume you just walked out off there?" He scoffed.
"Actually, I did. Surprising lack of security. Probably just a set up to lure me into a false sense of security. I'll give you the details latter. Must go, the helicopter has arrived." He said, started to walk under the helicopter blades.
"Ok Sherlock. I will tell you this now, John's father won't be walking out alive. Purely accidental death obviously."
"Thank you Mycroft," he screamed in reply before seeing John filled with tubes.