Sherlock Age:19
I shift in the uncomfortable fake leather chair, looking at the dean in the face as he yells at me. It was my fault that the lab blew up.
"It seems to me like you don't really want to be here Mr. Holmes." I look up, confused,
"What?" Is he implying that I don't value this school, that I don't actually want to be getting a higher education?
"You heard me perfectly. As far as I can tell, the only reason you are here is because your brother payed for you to be here. Him paying your way makes it obligatory for you to come here. We can just as easily make it not so easy for you to be here." Oh I see. It's a threat,
"If this is because of the lab..."
"Mr. Holmes, it is more then just the lab. You have a series of marks on your record, espionage, vandalism, cheating on important exams, selling cheat sheets, aiding and abating an escaped criminal," With that I have to protest, I didn't do that knowingly. Okay, maybe I did, but he wasn't guilty. Sadly the police don't care if he's guilty or not, they just want him back in custody, "you're lucky you aren't in jail. You're almost as bad as the one they call Moriarty. Thankfully he's transferred, but that doesn't mean you won't become just like him. He was a terror the entire year he was here, and you're shaping up to be just like him." I shake my head, I've heard all about this guy, not a pretty picture. I'm determined not to be like him.
"Excuse me sir, but I think that if you give me one more chance, I won't screw it up. I'm pretty sure that I want to be here." The man across the desks scoffs,
"You're joking. Tell me what happened from the top again." I sigh. We've been over how the lab blew up I even know why but he insists on revisiting this one specific time I manage to blow something up.
"Are you serious sir?" He leans forward, of course he's serious, he's the dean.
"Of course Mr. Holmes. I want the whole story." I roll my eyes before beginning,
"Okay. I was up after hours, wanting to finish this experiment about gas." He raises an eyebrow, "It was for science class. Anyway I was busying myself with the gas, setting the stream radius and the force of the flow. Some idiot had left one of the Bunsen burners running. That was the stupidest thing anyone could have done. Waste really. I didn't even see the flame." He looks at me pointedly. "What? How was I supposed to hear it? It was not visible, there was barely a flame. I don't know how it happened sir." He stares at me, I shift again. This is uncomfortable. "Okay I do. Maybe the gas pipe I was using let the gas out too far and then the gas ignited when it hit the burner. Nearly killed me it did. Barely had time to turn the gas off before everything exploded." I show him my hands which are bandaged, due to the good nurses. Luckily they like me enough to give me pain killers.
"It seems to me Mr. Holmes that you have an idiot to thank." Wait. What? What is he talking about?
"What?"
"You're expelled." No. That's not... This can't be happening. It wasn't my fault! And now they are going to kick their best student out the door? What is wrong with the school system? How did this happen to me? I didn't do anything. I sneaked out after hours yes, but that isn't enough to expel me. What they should be doing is finding that idiot who goes to this school and left the burner on. Why does this kind of thing happen to me all the time? I always take the fall unless Mycroft's involved. And then everything is his fault, even if it's mine. Why can't I just do something right? For once?
"Excuse me sir?"
"You. Are. Expelled. I'm not repeating it again. You have till tomorrow's lunch to be packed up and gone." I sit there stunned. This is really happening isn't it? Oh shit.
A couple nights earlier
I have to be quite. I should have done this yesterday. But the lab was being used so I guess it wasn't really important. Now it should be empty. There really isn't anything that can go wrong. Simplest form of sneaking out of the dorm is accomplished with socks and a quiet lock pick. Hardly breathing I creep down the hall, making no noise in my socks and pajamas. The door's just a few feet ahead of me, reached easily in a couple of steps. It will only take a minute and no one will ever find out. I might smell a little bit like gas afterward but that doesn't matter. People are so stupid they would never really notice that. I push open the door silently, there is my spot right at the back. Luckily no one has touched it all day, so that's a plus. Everything is in order. I turn my gas pipe's dial, letting more gas flow into the room. Wait. Something isn't right. Wait. There's a light, a little one across the table. A Bunsen burner. Why is it on? Oh SHIT! It's going to blow, quick! Turn the gas off! It's going to burn! Now it's going to explode! I barely have time to remove my hands, and they don't even escape clear. It's hot! It burns! Oh bugger. Not the smartest idea. I hide under the table till the gas burns itself out. There are burn marks on the ceiling and on the floor. Shit. I have to get my hands treated. They burn, so much. I try not to touch anything as I pad down the stairs. I am going to get into trouble. Shit. Why do these things happen to me? What idiot left the burner on?
The dean's office
"I understand sir."
"I'm glad Mr. Holmes. I'm just sorry that it had to end like this. You had a lot of potential." I nod, feeling empty and hollow inside. Of course this would happen to me. Of course.