Warning: Suicide attempt... Sorry, I just thought that it would be an important part of Sherlock's life. Whoops. Any way, I hope that you like this either way. It would be great if you did because I enjoyed writing it. And this basically tells you everything that Mycroft has been doing over Sherlock's life. Enjoy. :)

Chapter 5

16-Years-Old

"Do you remember your 16th birthday?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, somehow knowing that the birthday he remembered was probably wrong.

"Of course I do. What do you take me for, Mycroft?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his brother, he knew the truth behind what he was about to tell Sherlock, and his attitude was displaying a very childish kind of want.

"Well. Something happened to you during that day and your 17th birthday."

"More of Father beating me? Interesting... Give me a specific day? Was it an interesting day, Mycroft?"

"It was your prom night..."

Breaking News!

The son of the famous Mr and Mrs Holmes, was found today at his school after an attempt to take his own life. Sherlock Holmes, aged 16, was found by his girlfriend Molly Hooper, 16, after what she called; a "disastrous prom night". Holmes had taken Hooper to the prom, apparently knowing that he wasn't welcome. Anderson, 16, had targeted him with his friends, 15-16 years of age, and pulled both Holmes and Hooper apart whilst they danced to 'A Thousand Years' by Christina Perri. Anderson and his friends dragged both Holmes and Hooper out of the building. Outside they held Hooper's head in place so that she could "watch the life and soul of the party". Hooper could not look away from her boyfriend being beaten by the other boys, but managed to tear away from their grasp in an attempt to help him. During her attempt, Anderson 'accidentally' punched Hooper round her left cheek; pushing her into Holmes. Hooper then told reporters that they continued to hold her back, trying to throw a few punches at her, but she didn't show any remorse nor pain towards the boys. Holmes was also beaten senselessly until he found it increasingly harder to breath. At that point, Hooper states that the boys all left to return to the prom. Hooper then told us that she ran to get help for Holmes, not realising that he could get up and walk. According to her, when she returned with a member of staff, not wanting to be mentioned, Holmes was nowhere to be seen. Apparently Hooper then went looking for Holmes around the school. Meanwhile, she made this call to an ambulance service: "Ambulance please. Both my boyfriend and I... We've... Been attacked. I don't know what state he's in, but I know that he received harder and more frequent punches than I did. Please hurry!" During this time, police presume that Holmes had made his way to his dorm and placed his tie around his neck. "It was clear that he had been planning suicide for some time considering the marks all over his body and wrists looked like self harm marks. We also found a note to Miss Hooper that she wishes to keep private." Hooper stated that she arrived at his dorm room just as he had left the stool. "It still rocked..." She tried to untie the knot, without success. She knew how good Holmes was at tying knots so tried a different approach. Using a knife that Holmes kept in his room, she cut the tie from around his neck and caught him, before lowering him to the floor. Hooper says, "I checked immediately for signs of life. It occurred to me that he had only just left the stool, but I remained in the doorway mind-blown about the event that was happening right before me. I felt so helpless." Hooper then had to be taken to hospital, alongside Holmes, due to physical, mental and emotional distress. No more comments from her were taken.

Holmes now remains in a critical, but stable condition in St. Bart's Hospital. His family have not visited him claiming that, "He means nothing to us. If he had killed himself successfully, I'm sure that the whole family would be relieved of a burden on our name." -Mr Holmes, 45.

Mycroft Holmes, aged 23, is the only member of the Holmes family to visit his younger brother alongside Miss hooper whom is covered in stitches and bandages herself, after her beating.

Anderson and his 'gang' have been taken in for questioning about Holmes' suicide attempt. A charge could be made, however Hooper has stated that a charge is not necessary.

According to Mycroft Holmes, "This is is a result of bullying from two parties. The boys at my brother's Boarding School. But also, my family, including myself are to blame for what Sherlock tried to do."

No further comments will be taken from the Holmes boys nor Hooper, until Holmes awakes and is ready to leave the hospital.
For more information or a link on how to stop bullying like this, please visit our website.

"What do you think? You got a whole page about you in the biggest newspaper in London." Molly tried to remain cheerful for Sherlock's recovery, but it was obvious to, not only to everyone else, but to herself that she was finding it very hard. It had been two weeks since the prom, however Molly rarely moved from Sherlock's side. All she wanted now was to see his icy-blue eyes look at her and remember what they'd built together. "Come on Sherlock. Wake up." Molly paused. "Please..." Molly drifted back into another sleep, her body lying across Sherlock's.

"..." Sherlock couldn't find anything to say. He was starting to find it easier and easier to understand why Mycroft had made him forget about all of this stuff.

"I'm sorry Sherlock." Sherlock's head and stare remained at his hands that were clasped together.

A few hours after Molly had fallen asleep, a shudder down her spine awoke her. She looked around the room and noticed a tall figure standing in front of the window. He lent on his umbrella strongly. "How is he doing? Well I presume."

"Mycroft. He's in a coma... Of course he's not okay!" She turned to Sherlock as he lie frail in his bed. To her, he'd never looked paler. She clutched his hand tightly, willing for him to wake up, but there was no response.

"They asked me to tell you... That they're going to turn the machine off on Tuesday." A look of disgust spread itself across Molly's face. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"What!? You're going to allow that? Your own brother. You're not even putting up a fight for him?" Mycroft chuckled and then turned towards Molly, who was still clutching his brother.

"I advised it. You'll be much better if he's gone, Molly. A lot of people will!" Molly could feel Sherlock's fingers close around hers. She didn't flinch nor notice, she thought that it was her own grip tightening. She was holding on tighter to what she was going to lose. She didn't want to lose him and Sherlock didn't want to lose her. He was listening to Mycroft's words as if they were a beacon reaching out to him through voice and hatred. The hatred that he had inside for Mycroft overwhelmed any love that he had for Molly, or anyone else. That hatred was pulling him back. He didn't stir though, he needed the element of surprise. "He's just a sociopath, Molly. And a high functioning one at that." Sherlock let out a deep breath. People had called him a sociopath for a year or so now, so that didn't surprise him. But he didn't expect Mycroft to stoop so low as to call him that. He quite enjoyed it.

"Of course I am Mycroft." Sherlock sat up in his bed and turned towards Molly. He mouthed a small 'sorry' towards her and then turned to the more pressing matter at hand. His brother. "Really Mycroft? I didn't expect you to call me that until my glory days!"

Mycroft smirked at Sherlock. "What is it you want to be in your 'glory days'? A detective something, wasn't it?" Mycroft lowed his head slightly at him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. He didn't blame Mycroft for forgetting the name, considering Sherlock himself had invented the job. "Consulting Detective." He folded his arms and tilted his head towards Mycroft.

"Oh yes. A 'Consulting Detective'... The one job in the World, that doesn't, and will never exist" Mycroft paused and moved towards his brother, lifting his umbrella. "I see the cuts on your wrist have returned. I thought I warned you..."

Sherlock interrupted his brother, "I know you did. That doesn't mean I have to follow your warning, Mycroft."

Molly remained seated next to the empty bed. She was both bemused and relieved at Sherlock's re-awakening. "Excuse me." Both the Holmes brother's turned towards Molly. "Sorry." Sherlock smiled at Molly. She was courageous to stop his conversation with the biggest Queen on the planet, and she did it well. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must interrupt your... Um... 'Little' squabble. Sherlock?" Sherlock joined her by her side and hooped his arm. "Of course." She took his arm willingly and allowed him to lead her away from the room.

"I'm glad you're awake now." Molly smiled at Sherlock as they walked through the hospital.

"I'm sorry Molly. I thought I was dead. Hearing your voice, I thought that you were dead also, so I ignored it. But I know that Mycroft isn't dead so using his voice was simple." Sherlock turned his head away. He only hoped that Molly wouldn't take it too badly. "Are you okay?" He finally said.

"A few cuts here and there. Nothing out of the ordinary... Much like you, Sherlock." Sherlock's head drooped and then jerked towards her.

"What?"

"Do you remember earlier when I read the newspaper article to you? No. Well, the police said it was obvious that you were going to commit suicide, Sherlock." Molly stopped where she stood. "They knew about the cuts." She turned towards him, raising her eyebrows. "They've put both you and I on a program. We have to go to rehab and get our lives 'back on track' apparently..." For the last few words, Molly changed her voice.

"Who said that to you?"

Molly paused for a few moments, while her eyes filled with tears. "A psychiatrist." Molly sighed trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. "We start on Monday." She walked on. "What do you expect?" Sherlock looked at her curiously. "You tried to kill yourself, Sherlock... I was worried, and planning to do it myself."

"It was an experiment Molly. I knew you'd find me. I was wondering how long it would take you." Sherlock lied.

"And in doing so I could have died, for real.." Now the tears were falling. They bounced on the ground or into her hands. She could feel every care she had for Sherlock fall from her eyes one by one.

"Molly... I..." She walked away from him, into a room. On the door was her name; this was Molly's room. After entering it, Molly slammed the door in Sherlock's face. "Molly. Please." Sherlock pleaded at the door.

"I can't, Sherlock. I just... can't." After she spoke, the room went quiet. Molly was still alive, but she didn't want to talk to him any more. Sherlock waited a few minutes and then walked back drearily to his own room. This time there was no Mycroft to be seen. Only a note lying on his bed. The note was written on dark and old looking paper. The pen's ink was a blood coloured red ink and the writing, to Sherlock, was recognisable.

'Dear Sherlock,

By the time you read this I would have returned to the Government. You should know that I was the one to suggest both yourself and Miss Hooper being placed under surveillance. I saw the marks on your arms the last time you were at the house for Christmas. When I read the letter about her father, that Miss Hooper had written to you many years ago, I knew that she could possibly be doing exactly the same thing. You deserve her Sherlock, but your feelings led you to this point. I'm going to make Miss Hooper forget this. I hope you see that this is the better way. She doesn't deserve this pain. You, I know, can manage it.

Mycroft.'

"Mycroft..." He dropped the letter onto the bed and ran to Molly's room. He knocked and knocked. There was no answer from her. Eventually Sherlock used a hair-pin he'd taken from her earlier and opened the door. Inside Molly lay on her bed, knocked out. An oxygen mask was strapped tightly onto her mouth, and her face was pale. Sherlock sped towards her and stroked her cheek. "Molly?" Her eyes opened quickly. Her breathing got heavier as she looked straight towards him.

"Who are you?" She cried under the mask.

"It's me, Molly. It's Sherlock." Molly continued to breath heavily, her hand started to reach for the 'Panic Button' that hung next to her head. "No!" Sherlock shouted as her fingers crawled their way to the button. Two strong and heavy men stomped into the room. The grabbed Sherlock by the arms and pulled him away. Molly returned to her passed out condition, she'd have no record of this when she awoke.

The two men dragged Sherlock back into his own room and strapped him down onto the bed. All the struggle that Sherlock put up against them didn't help. His arms were strapped down to his side. His feet restrained. A tall blonde woman cruised into the room and stood at the end of the bed. "Unhappily married, eh? So now you torture teenagers!" Sherlock yelled at her. He could see from her wedding ring that she was unhappily married considering the state it was in.

"Put ze mask on 'im." The woman was French and had an evil look in her emerald green eyes.

"No...NO!" Sherlock struggled with all of his might, but however hard he tried he couldn't break free. One of the men, the taller of the two climbed over Sherlock's body to reach the mask. He secured it tightly onto Sherlock's face and hit the switch that hung next to it. However hard Sherlock tried to stay awake, his eyelids became heavy. He slowly drifted into a cold and lonely sleep. Never to be his true self again.

"So..." Sherlock started.

"So I made the cleverest boy of 16 forget every ounce of care and feelings that he had towards Molly Hooper. I made him forget the nightmares that he had every night of her coming to him and stabbing him in the throat. I made him the man he is today. Cold. Broken. And worthy of the intelligence that he has." Sherlock's face was blank. He wanted to feel some sort of emotion but in this version of him, it was impossible. "You'll forget all of this soon enough any way..." Sherlock's head leant down towards his coffee. "5 sugars. You took 5 sugars and mixed them into your coffee." Sherlock's breathing started to deepen; he could feel his lungs closing in on him.

"What... Did... You... Do?" His words were slurring and his body was shaking.

"I'm helping you to forget, Sherlock. John is on his way. See" Mycroft held up Sherlock's phone. "I sent him, 'Help John. Brother in urgent need of assistance. Come quickly. -MH'. Oh and here he is now. Must dash." And with that, Mycroft made his escape leaving Sherlock to spread his body along the coffee table like a rag doll.

"My..." Sherlock passed out across the table. John hurried towards him and held him up by his shoulders.

"Come on Sherlock." He said, hauling the body out of the shop and up the stairs to 221B. Sherlock had forgotten once again about the true past that he had lived.

I hope you enjoyed it. Typical Mycroft, eh. I really enjoyed writing this piece actually. Thank you for reading and following and favouriting... That's not even a word, oh well! :)