Super-who-potter-lock one shots

Johnlock college-ish!lock Angst!lock

John kneeled on the bathroom floor. Blood was on the tile and his hands. It was also dampening his hair. It was his blood. He sat there trembling as he thought over the things that had happened.

-

He had moved out of his parents house two weeks ago. Finally he was free from his father. Did he feel bad about leaving his mother behind. Yes. Terrible. But he knew that there was nothing that he could do for her. He couldn't overpower his dad. So he left. Harry had moved away almost a year ago and was living happily. And so could he.

He had been dating Sherlock for almost two months but they had been best (and only) friends since the first year of high school. They were both nineteen now and they both had their own place. They were both about to go to college. The same college.

John had gotten away from his father and was with Sherlock and he was really happy. So he decided to come out to his mom. His father would be furious if he knew but John was sure that his mother would be accepting. He was sure of it. He called when he knew that his dad would be at work and his mom picked up. They greeted each other happily and exchanged pleasantries. He hadn't realised that his father had just got home early and picked up the other line. He told his mother about his new perspective of himself and about Sherlock.

And then his father spoke. Well, he didn't speak, growled. And screamed. And howled. John tried to stay on the line and comfort his mother but she hung up, sobbing. He sat frozen on his couch for twenty minutes before he started pacing his flat.

Ten minutes later he heard footsteps on the stairs and his father burst through the door. John's heart was pounding. His father was terrifying. Tall and wide with a fat head and wispy brown hair. His face was red and his veins were practically popping out of his skull. John's father rushed at him. A fist struck his face. Then another. Then another.

After that, John blacked out but he remembered crawling to the bathroom to escape. He also remembered a few choice word that his father threw at him, 'freak' 'faggot' 'not my son' 'not a human being'.

John didn't remember anything else. When he came to his senses his father was gone and he was sprawled across the bathroom floor and his chest hurt like hell.

-

He kneeled on the tiles and tried to think about what he had to do. But his brain wouldn't function and he couldn't even manage to stand up. He thought about calling 911 but he didn't want to. And he knew he should but he couldn't force himself to. He sat for minutes until he realised that he had to. John crawled to the phone because he didn't think that his sore ankle would hold him. The phone was on a table next to the couch, ten feet away from the bathroom, and it took him two minutes to reach it. He sat down on the floor next to the table and dialed the number and heard it ring. Three rings.

"John?"

"Sh-Sherlock?" He had dialed Sherlock instead of 911. "I-" He couldn't talk. His voice cracked and he started crying. Sobbing. The only thing he could say was 'Sherlock'. After about thirty seconds John heard the phone beep as Sherlock hung up. John couldn't understand why but he didn't think about it because his mind was being unreasonable and his whole body hurt. Three minutes later there were more footsteps and Sherlock quietly opened the door.

John flinched, fearing that his father had come back. Sherlock stifled a gasp when he saw the quivering heap that was John on the floor. "John," he whispered. He knelt down next to John on the carpeted floor. When Sherlock got closer to John he looked even worse. There were small patches of blood on his clothes and bruises were appearing on John's neck and collarbone. John sat hunched over, rocking and sobbing. Sherlock knew what had happened because...he was Sherlock and because John said that this had happened before. But they both thought that this would stop when John moved out.