TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER!

CHAPTER 7: A FAMILY PORTRAIT

Siger Holmes was a well respected man, with a loving wife and two bright sons. His family lived in comfort and wealth, never missing anything. The grandness of the Holmes were known all over England. Their estate held many meetings, where famous and rich people would get together, get drunk and discuss things about their perfect lives.

But as soon as the doors were closed behind the last guest, the children would be ushered to their bedrooms by the maids and the seemingly loving parents would go to their separate rooms. The colourful family picture with smiling faces would take its real shape.

Siger Holmes and Violet Sherrinford met at her parents' party. The man seduced her and soon they requested a permission to marry, which they were granted without any rejections. A union of two wealthy families was the intention of their parents when they introduced them to each other anyway.

Violet's mother had been overly happy about it, because it had been her long time wish to have beautiful grandchildren. And Siger Holmes was the best candidate for it, with is deep dark curls and high cheekbones.

But soon after the grandiose wedding, came clear that the couple was not infact a match made in heaven. By that time Violet was already pregnant and divorce was out of the question, since both sides of the family threatened to leave them without heritage, if they did so.

So came to be the perfect family that was not so perfect after all. The children were to suffer the most. The boys were never allowed to have any friends, because the constant fright over kidnapping and ransom paying. They grew up alone.

Mycroft's birth had been inevitable, but Sherlock's, ten years later, was purely unwanted, a result of a drunk night. The opportunity to blame the boy for it was never left unused. He was constantly humiliated by his parents, especially his father. Mycroft never stood up for the young one, telling Sherlock to get used to it.

Everyone in the house knew about the affairs on both sides. Violet was able to keep them discreet, but Siger would bring home women, and some maids had sworn to see even men, almost publically.

So the Holmes boys got used to hearing their father's low laugh together with a stranger's. They learned to ignore it.

Mycroft, who had been five years in boarding school when Sherlock was born, spent his time studying across the country. The five year old Sherlock was alone. More than once he told something he shouldn't have, without Mycroft stopping him, because he wasn't there.

Years of waiting for his brother to be home more than a couple of weeks, Sherlock was tired and said something especially cutting while his father was present. The man angered and took the boy to his room, where he slapped him hard across the face. Sherlock was too shocked and didn't start crying, but stared with large eyes, hand on his reddening cheek.

Siger found that the slap wasn't enough. He wanted to see his son cry. So he grabbed his hair, pushed him on the floor with an animalistic growl and pulled off the boy's shorts.

No one came, even though he screamed. No one came, even though he cried. No one cared that he spent the next days in bed with a fever so high he almost had permanent damage.

During winter break, by the time Sherlock had healed, Mycroft came home. Sherlock tried to tell him what had happened, but his brother didn't believe him and said he was lying to get attention. He believed his father to be many things, but not that.

That one day wasn't the only one. The gruesome act took place a few times when Siger Holmes had had too many drinks on his behalf. Coincidentally Violet was never home that time, but Sherlock believed that even if she had been home, she wouldn't have cared. No one asked what was wrong with him, when he couldn't walk properly and his face was beaten up.

So he distanced himself from everyone. He found it better if he just locked all the feelings away, not having to feel the hurt all the time. He would spend most of his time reading scientific books. Nobody noticed it was not usual for a boy at his age, because there just wasn't anyone around.

When Mycroft came home for a holiday, Sherlock had just had the most horrifying day of them all. His eye was purple, his lip gashed and he stood wrongly, when he met his brother.

Only then Mycroft believed him. He took Sherlock away to an acquaintance and sorted things out. Sherlock never met his father again. And he was glad.

The next year he went to school and immediately discovered that he didn't enjoy it there. But it was better than home. He was bullied, but never violated as his father did.

Saturday: 4 p.m.

Molly was tired. She had never felt so alone in her life, although he wasn't the only one in the flat. She had been crying too much and her body was drained.

Lestrade had come over, but he had to leave soon, because he still had work to do concerning the case. Molly was sure he had shed some tears, when she saw his puffy red eyes. But she was also sure she looked a lot worse.

Sherlock hadn't woken up, but during some point, he had twitched. Molly tried to concentrate on him and did as best as she could. She changed the towel on his forehead constantly.

Around two o' clock she had found a bag of his clothes behind the door. No doubt it was Mycroft's doing. Remaining a complete professional, Molly changed Sherlock out of his dress pants and ripped shirt. She refrained from watching as much as possible. She put him in a grey T-shirt and blue pajamas bottoms, just so that he would be more comfortable, as it was the least she could do in this situation.

She measured his temperature again. It was the same and he showed no signs of doing any better than before.