Chapter 2: Schoolyard

Sherlock brought his lunch outside, the first one out of the school doors. It hadn't been this sunny since the day John had come over, and he couldn't wait to have lunch with his friend. John had stayed behind a bit to help the teacher put away all of the books that his classmates had carelessly left on the floor after reading time. He loved helping out. She gave him the apple that was sitting on her desk as thanks and told him he could leave. Happily, he grabbed his brown bagged lunch, the apple in his free hand, and ran outside to meet his best friend. "Hiya, Sherlock!" He said as he sat down across from him, the biggest smile on his pudgy little cheeks.

"John!" Sherlock dropped his lunch and gave John a quick hug, beaming. "Whatcha got today?" he asked, curious.

"Mummy made me something special!" John said, proudly. He took out the plastic baggie which held is sandwich. "Peanut butter and 'nana sandwich!" He exclaimed, taking it out to show Sherlock. "It's my favorite."

"Ooooh, that's cool," Sherlock said, grabbing his own lunch. "Mycey helped me make a peanut butter and Jam sandwich- strawberry, my favorite." He grinned, pulling out his crisps, apple, and brownie as well.

"Mycey really loves you, huh? Harry would never make me a sandwich!" John told him, a mouth full of peanut butter and banana making it hard for him to talk without mumbling. "She usually steals my snacks. I was lucky that mummy packed me two."

"Nanny was busy, and I can't reach the counter; Mycey can," Sherlock replied, accidentally spitting little flecks of his own sandwich, having taken a very large bite. "Sorry Harry steals your stuff. That's mean."

John shrugged, taking out his apple juice. He stuck the straw in and took a couple of sips. "S'okay. Sometimes she doesn't know how mean she is...I think she's jealous because...because mummy loves me more." John giggled a little, taking another bite.

"I think Mycey loves me most. And maybe Mummy. Daddy-well-Daddy isn't very nice either. He's a lot like the bullies."

John stopped eating, looking at his friend with serious eyes. "Daddy's shouldn't be bullies, Sherlock. They shouldn't. Daddies are supposed to love their sons."

"My Daddy yells lots. At Mummy. And Mycey. And me most." Sherlock looked at his food, his tummy hurting. John put his sandwich on his napkin carefully and sat close to his friend, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck. "It's okay, Sherlock! My daddy gives me TOO much love, and I can give some of that to you!"

oOoOo

Jim was sitting over at another table, watching the two boys enjoying their meal. "Look at them. They're so stupid," he remarked, taking a sip of his own juice box. "That John kid. I hate him. But I think I hate Sherlock even more. With his stupid curls and his stupid face." He squeezed his juice box a little bit too hard, crushing it in his little fist.

Seb nodded in agreement. "Yep," he said, stabbing his apple with a fork, watching as the juice slowly trickled out. "Want me t'do somefing to 'em?" he asked his twisted friend.

"Dad forgot to pack my lunch," Jim remarked, staring at a bag that only had a juicebox and an apple in it- something he'd previously nicked off another kid. "Get their food. All of it. I'm feeling hungry." He looked at Seb, a small, twisted grin on his face. "Bring them over here too."

Seb nodded, grinning. "Back in a sec, Boss." He dropped his skewered apple and strolled over to the two under the tree, nose wrinkling at the gross hug the two shared. "Get your food and come with me," he barked.

oOoOo

John left his arms around Sherlock for a good amount of time before they were rudely interrupted by Sebastian Moran. John glared up at Seb, who was a lot taller than he was. "Why should we!" He glared, removing his arms from his best friend. "We-we're not hurting anyone. Leave us alone."

"Because Jimmy said so, and he always is right." Seb made a swipe for John's food.

Sherlock knocked the boy's knees out from under him, spilling Seb on the grass. "No."

John stood up and looked down at Seb on the ground. "Go tell Jimmy that he can s-sod off." He hated using words that his daddy told him not to, but right now his little face was reddening with anger.

Sherlock stood next to John, hands on his hips. "Yeah!" He always felt braver next to John.

Seb growled and pounced on the lunches, swiping them and running full tilt back to Jim. "Here you are, Boss!" Seb grinned, dumping the load on the table.

John watched him, balling his fists. "Why is he so mean!" He stomped his foot on the ground, pouting angrily. "We have to get it back, Sherlock. That's our food!"

Grabbing John's hand, Sherlock led his friend to Jimmy's table where the dark haired boy and the blond boy were splitting Sherlock and John's food.

Jim watched Seb running towards him and he grinned. "Good job, Sebby." He was excited. Yes, he was starving, but it was great to watch the two of them get all worked up. "This should be fun." He grabbed the second slice of peanut butter and banana (which he made sure to spit on and claim). He took a bite and saw that Sherlock and John had already arrived. "Nice of you to join us, LOSERS," he giggled.

John glared at Jim. "That's not fair. You can't just take people's food like that!"

"Give. That. Back," Sherlock hissed, hands balling into fists. "You mean, awful, terrible person!"

Seb raised an eyebrow at the intruders. "You know Boss, I think the pirate and his crybaby friend are trying to talk to you."

"I see that." Jim remarked, lazily turning his head to look at the two of them. "We've spit on ALL OF IT. So that means it's ours! Right Sebby?" Jim asked, reclining a bit as he made it known that he was enjoying this sandwich. "Tell your mummy that this sandwich is good, Johnny."

John balled his fists tighter, knuckles turning white. He knelt down and picked up handful of dirt, throwing it at Jim.

Sherlock took advantage of the dirt in Jim's eyes to do the same to Seb, hurriedly shoving their food back in the bags. "Come on!"

John nodded, grabbing their food and glancing at Sherlock. "Let's go back before a teacher sees. We'll get in trouble!"

Sherlock grabbed his hand and ran, running until they were all the way across the schoolyard and up a tree, eating their food fast and laughing with excitement.

John had just a bit of trouble getting up there, but once he did he was glad to be enjoying his food with his best friend. "That was close! I'm glad I had you to help me." He grinned, munching on the apple that the teacher had given him. "You're my bestest friend, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock grinned back, mouth full of crisps. He broke his brownie in half and gave it to John. "Here. The Bestest Friend award."

John got excited and bounced happily, excepting his award. "I'd like to thank mummy and daddy for this award. And my bestest friend, Sherlock. But not Harry. Or Jim." He giggled, remembering what he saw on the different award shows his mummy and daddy would watch from time to time. He glanced over and saw Seb coming this way. "Oh no, Sherlock. We have trouble..."

Sherlock laughed at John's acceptance but soon stopped when he looked over towards the approaching Seb. "Finish the food. Quick!"

oOoOo

Seb almost caught the dirt but missed some, falling off the bench. He struggled up and then ran to Jim, helping him clean his face.

Jim cursed, rubbing his one fist in his eye, the other hand trying to violently snatch at the food that the other boys were taking. It hurt, and he found himself starting to cry (which he NEVER did, just when he was in a lot of pain). "Sebby, help me!"

Seb worked fast, clearing the dirt out of Jim's eyes as best he could. "Help me, Boss. Let's get 'em."

Jim pushed Seb away for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly in front of his chest. "NO. THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN." He glared daggers at Seb. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING. YOU GET THEM."

Seb was stunned for a moment, knocked back by the force of Jim's tantrum before scowling. "Prat," he hissed before running after the boys.

Jim sat on the table top, bringing his knees to his chest as he watched. "I hate them. I hate them so much. Those jerks," he murmured to himself, rocking slightly. "One day I'll make them pay... I'll make them pay and Ill...I'll kill them!"

oOoOo

Seb skidded to a halt at the base of the tree, looking up at the boys. "Two lovebirds in a tree?" he sneered. "Making my job easy!"

"Shut up!" John yelled, stuffing his face with the lunch that should have been enjoyed slowly. "Why are you so mean?" He asked, mouth full of apple.

"Awwww, is the wittle cwybaby afwaid?" Seb taunted, grinning mischievously. "And you, oh pirate of the yard, how much didja hafta give this one before he hugged ya, huh?" Sherlock glared at the boy, looking around at the tree for anything he could throw.

"HE DIDN'T GIVE ANYTHING." John yelled. Seb had obviously hit a nerve. In John's last school, he'd made few friends. He'd been the one that was picked on. He didn't need that here, and he didn't need his best friend getting picked on either. "You're so mean. Go hang out with Jimmy. Looks like he's the-the cry baby here!" John balled up his paper bag and threw it at Seb's head.

Seb caught it. "Need to be heavier, crybaby," before launching into a full rendition of "Sherlock and John sitting in a tree."

Sherlock swung down, agile from the time spent in his own tree house at home and tackled the bully, pinning him to the ground. "Take. It. BACK!" he shouted. John's eyes widened as he watched Sherlock tackle Seb. He jumped down from the tree himself, trying to pull Sherlock off, his eyes scanning the school yard to make sure the teacher on duty wasn't watching. "Sherlock, no! You'll get in trouble. The teacher is right over there...she'll see you!"

Seb glared up at Sherlock, pushing up hard. "Get. Off. Me." His voice had gone soft and dangerous before Jim rushed up and shoved the curly haired menace off Seb.

Jim noticed that Sherlock was on top of Seb. His tantrum had subsided for the time being, and he stood up, running towards them. "Get OFF HIM," he glared, pushing Sherlock. "GET OFF."

Sherlock went flying, rolling into the tree. He picked himself up and faced Jim. "Jimmy," he said, voice very cold.

"Sherly." Jim glared. "Don't you lay a finger on my best friend." He snarled, pulling a stick from the closest limb of the tree. "I'll hit you with it! I'm not scared!"

Sherlock clenched his little hands into fists. "I'm not afraid of you, Jimmy. You can't hurt me."

Jim smirked, leaning against the stick as if it were a cane. "Really, you're not afraid." He swung the stick directly at Sherlock, hard, stopping right before it was supposed to thwack him in the head. The curly haired boy didn't even flinch. "I could kill you, you know," he whispered with his little Irish accent peeking through the adapted English one.

Seb body blocked John as Jim confronted Sherlock, the smaller boy trying to shove him out of the way and failing. "Sherlock!"

"Foreigner," Sherlock spat, using the word he'd learned from Mycey a few days earlier. He glanced at John and then back at Jimmy. He walked right up to the dark haired boy, got in his face, and said, "You. Don't. Scare. Me. Any. More." He snatched the stick and threw it as hard as his arms let him.

Jim grabbed a hold of Sherlock's collar, pulling him close. "I know who your best friend is." He growled, staring down his nose at Sherlock, which gave him a sort of maniacal look. "I can snap him. I can kill him. And that will kill you. Wouldn't it?" Jim pushed him backward a bit, glancing over at Seb. "Grab John," he ordered.

Seb obeyed, strong arming the boy and holding him still. "Got 'im."

John struggled in Seb's grasp. "LET ME GO." He screamed, trying to flail his arms. He glanced at Sherlock, his brown eyes pleading for help. Jim walked closer, taking John's throat in his hand. He squeezed a bit, hearing John start to struggle. There was an evil grin on his face-one that seemed just a bit too old for him. His eyes darkened. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted.

Sherlock staggered back, steadying himself before running between Jim and John. Sherlock tackled Jim, pulling him away from John and punching him hard in the stomach before rounding on Seb. Sherlock managed to get behind the bigger boy and kick hard where it would hurt.

John staggered out of Seb's grasp and rubbed at his neck, coughing loudly. "Sh-Sherlock!" His voice was raspy, his face red. His eyes started to well up with tears. What had just happened? He didn't understand...he'd never been touched like that before. He'd never had his life threatened.

Jim lay on the ground, sucking in breath from the blow to his stomach. It was as if Sherlock had knocked all the wind out of him. He clenched his jaw, trying to not cry out of pure frustration and annoyance that Sherlock Holmes had done this to him; it gave him even more incentive to want to kill him and his little boyfriend. Seb collapsed, clutching as the place where Sherlock had kicked, moaning and fighting the urge to cry. The kid was a menace and needed to be taught a lesson, but Seb couldn't even move much less chase him.

Sherlock grabbed John's hand checking his throat. "You're ok, not too bad, might bruise a bit, come on, we hafta get out of here!" John nodded, feeling the sobs building up in his chest. No! He couldn't cry! He had to be brave for Sherlock. He started to run away from the two boys on the ground, his hand grasping so tight to Sherlock's, as if it were his only lifeline. Sherlock led them through the playground, finding a spot surrounded by kids and diving in, weaving in and out until they were in plain view of the teacher. He sat, pulling John down beside him. "Safe now. Even Jim isn't that stupid to attack us here."

John nodded, his lower lip still quivering, though he was doing his best to hold it all in. "Why...why is he so mean? I don't understand.," he whispered, keeping his hand in Sherlock's. He refused to let go; it was the only thing that was making him feel safe, despite all of the bored-looking teachers watching the children at play.

"He hates me. I dunno why, he always has. When I first got here, he said I was the same as him. I told him to jump off the roof." Sherlock bit his lip, squeezing John's hand. "He and Seb almost pushed me off that afternoon. I've never stood up to him since, but with you there, I could."

John's eyes widened. "H-he did that to you? Sherlock, you should tell someone!" He tugged at Sherlock's hand. "That's scary! What about Mycey! Does he know? Or your mummy or daddy!"

"No, I can't tell them. He'd know and things would get worse. 'Sides, I have my soldier now. I've never felt so brave or been defended before. It was my turn to rescue you today." John's little cheeks turned a shade of crimson. "You did rescue me." He grinned, forgetting about how much his throat hurt and how upset he'd just been. "You're a hero, Sherlock! You're MY hero." John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's middle, squeezing him tightly. "I'll always believe in you."

Sherlock hugged back, resting his cheek on John's head. "Don't move," he whispered. "I wanna stay like this for a minute. I dunno how you think I'm a hero, John."

John nodded slightly, burning his face in Sherlock's neck. It felt so lovely to be hugged like that. It wasn't exactly the way mummy and daddy hugged him. It was nicer-it made him feel all warm inside. "You're like...Batman or something. Spiderman. You're always there for me. Or maybe we're like...the Wonder Twins! They're always there for each other, right? And they sort of have those cool rings that turn you into stuff." He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, realizing that he was going off topic. "You are a hero."

"I got you hurt. It's my fault Jimmy wanted to choke you. I'm not safe." Sherlock felt his eyes burn with tears as he clung to his friend. "He's not gonna stop, and now he can tell I like you, that we're the bestest friends." Sherlock shook his head. "Heroes don't put their friends in danger."

"Sometimes things happen, right?" John tilted his head up to look at Sherlock. "I don't mind the dangerousness, I just want you to be okay. Because you're the greatest and you don't deserve to be sad or scared."

Now Sherlock did cry because no one, not even Mycey, had ever been that nice or said that. "Thanks," he whispered. "That really, really means lots, John." He hugged his friend until the bell rang. They didn't see Jimmy again the rest of recess.