After several attempts at small talk, John had decided it was best to either remain silent, or come up with something worthy of discussing. He settled on the latter.
"Did they- uh- hurt-" John hesitated, unsure of whether or not he should ask.
"Which ones?" Sherlock asked, obviously having caught onto John's train of thought.
"The Holmes." John clarified.
"Occasionally," Sherlock said, "Not often."
"What about not physically?" John asked. He once again hesitated. "Emotionally?"
"You know I'm not a good judge of that, John." Sherlock answered. He was surprisingly calm considering the subject matter.
"You said earlier, something about them ruining you?" John prompted. "What did you mean?"
Sherlock sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"You know me, I'm not… normal." Sherlock said. "I'm not what they expected, and definitely not what they wanted. They made it obvious, tried to put a square peg in a round hole… I tried to be normal, for awhile I did. I tried to learn manners, tried to get good marks, tried not to get into fights… I tried to be ordinary. But I'm not. No matter how much I would want to be. The Holmes family, as you know, is quite wealthy, powerful, and well known. This is not only due to Mycroft's impact, but due to my parents' as well. They adopted me when it was a fad among the higher ups to take nothing and turn it into something, not different from why they have adopted another boy, my new brother. They want to create a rags to riches story. They tried with me, and when it didn't work, when I wasn't good enough, they let me know. I was expected to take their critiques, criticism, and insults in a calm manner, going over them logically, and trying to apply them. If I got upset, then it was just made worse."
"Made worse?" John asked. "How?"
"Just more yelling, more insults, name calling… nothing important really." Sherlock said, he put his focus on driving for a moment, as they rounded a particularly sharp curve.
"Nothing important- Sherlock, how in the world could you say that wasn't important?!" John asked.
"Because it was better than where I came from." Sherlock said. It was silent for a moment. There was a stillness in the car that was unusual for John and Sherlock.
"What- what did they call you?" John asked quietly.
"The usual, machine, psychopath, weirdo, creep, freak, and a few others I'd prefer not to repeat." Sherlock said. "Nothing I haven't heard since." Another silence, longer this time.
"If that's better than where you came from… what did you come from?" John asked.
"It was more." Sherlock said.
"More?" John asked.
"Just- more."
John had long since figured out that the best way to make Sherlock talk was to say nothing at all. Eventually John's wondering got too loud for Sherlock and he explained.
"There was more, physically." Sherlock said. "Neglect and abuse. Primarily the latter."
"Oh." John said. "How- how bad?"
"I don't really have anything to measure it with." Sherlock said. He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily before opening them again. He trained his eyes on the empty road.
"You mean you were never not-" John hesitated again. For some reason, he could not bring himself to utter the word aloud.
"You can say the word, John." Sherlock said. "I was abused as a child. Not saying the word 'abuse' doesn't mean it didn't happen."
"I was trying to be tactful." John supplied.
"Stop it. You know that doesn't matter to me." Sherlock said. "And yes. For as long as I can remember."
"How old were you when the Holmes adopted you?" John asked.
Sherlock hummed, thinking.
"About… twelve?" Sherlock said. "Something like that."
Suddenly a question popped into John's mind.
"Was Mycroft adopted too?" John asked. To John's surprise, Sherlock let out a dry chuckle. He shook his head.
"No, no, Mycroft's definitely biological." Sherlock said.
"What does he-?" John asked, but again hesitated.
Sherlock squirmed around in his seat and managed to pull his mobile out of his pocket.
He held it out to John.
"Pull up Mycroft's texts to me." Sherlock said. "Anything that's confidential will be encoded, don't worry. Go ahead. Read them."
"You want me to- right, then. Um- alright." John took the phone from Sherlock's hand.
Sherlock was a very private person, and rarely let John in on anything about his past. Now that it was becoming necessary, John was drowning in information, struggling to process it all.
John pulled up the texts between Mycroft and Sherlock. They were filled with vicious criticisms and reprimands for how Sherlock dealt with cases, clients, Scotland Yard, and the Media. Sometimes Mycroft would just insult him for no reason. Other times, he would order Sherlock to show up at a certain time at a certain place.
"If I don't come, he tracks me down." Sherlock said, in answer to John's unspoken question.
"As for what we do, he'll generally yell at me a bit, making absolutely no sense, and then threaten to tell Mum and Dad that I haven't changed my ways, again making no sense."
"How often does he do that?" John asked.
"Eh- at least once a month." Sherlock said. "Often several. Now you know where I go on my 'walks'."
"Your parents, they didn't do that to Mycroft then, did they?" John asked.
"No, just me." Sherlock said. "Mycroft doesn't deserve it. He was a child prodigy turned head of the British government, beneath only the queen herself. Then you've got the other son. The adopted runaway self-employed antisocial high-functioning sociopathic high school drop out drug addict freak; who's never been able to keep a 'real' job, friend, or flat mate, and who can't balance a check book, go to the grocery, cook, clean remember to feed himself, or sleep regularly, and can't even be trusted to be left alone for too long on the risk he might blow something up with chemicals of which he acquired illegally." Sherlock paused to take a breath.
"Not many people are as perfect as Mycroft, and that's what my parents are expecting. Another Mycroft." Sherlock said. "No one can make that standard, believe me, I tried. And when my new brother does, he will fail, they'll be angry with him, and start doing the same thing to him they did to me. Depending on his background, who knows what that could do to him." Sherlock glanced at John through the corner of his eye.
"I can't watch that happen again."
A/N: Ooh... I wonder what Sherlock meant by that last sentence...
There was a lot revealed in this chapter, I can't wait to tell you more!
The next chapter should be up soon, I've already got it mostly written, so be looking for it!
Hmm... I feel like Moffat and Gatiss now with this cliff hanger... Review please!