Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Martin hummed to himself quietly as he sketched, huddled up in the corner of the mini library. His bag lay open so he could retrieve his pens from them. He was currently colouring in a reasonably decent cartoon drawing of him and his brother. It was rather cute, the identical twins wearing the exact same clothes apart from the colour of their scarves. It sometimes amused them (well mostly Hamish) to pretend to be each other, swapping scarves when Aunt Molly or Uncle Mycroft or Uncle Greg came around. They could even sometimes confuse their Papa. Not Daddy, though. He could always tell which was which.

Martin smiled triumphantly at the drawing then blinked as a shadow fell over his sketchbook. He looked up with wide blue eyes to see a rather large, intimidating boy standing over him. Beside him stood a slightly shorter boy with a slightly more intelligent look to him. Well as intelligent as a normal four year old could get.

“What’s that?” The shorter boy pointed at the sketch book with a sneer.

“Sketchbook,” Martin squeaked out, biting his lip. His voice was almost impossible to hear. He really did hate talking to strangers. Actually, he didn’t like talking to many people. His twin was the only one he could properly talk to. He could sort of talk to his Papa, Daddy and Aunt Molly but not always. Uncle Mycroft could just be scary, same as Uncle Greg.

“Sketchbook?” Both boys burst out laughing. “Why draw? Drawing for pansies! Drawing gay!” Martin’s cheeks turned bright red at what he assumed were insults. He was a bit confused. He knew that gay was when two girls or two boys loved each other. Like his Daddy and Papa. But how was that anything to do with drawing? He felt hot tears well up in his eyes but tried to push them back. He couldn’t think of anything to say in reply.

“Ha ha, look he crying!” The bigger boy laughed even more. “He a wimp!” The smaller boy had grabbed his sketchbook and began to leaf through it. He then threw it to the ground and was about to stamp on it.

Hamish had decided to check out the library area to see it was any better than this terrible place filled with squealing infants. He rounded the corridor, frown on his face, in time to see to boys terrorising his brother.

“Hey! Leave my brother alone!” Hamish’s indignant shout stalled their stamping on the sketchbook, allowing Martin to grab it. If there was one thing Hamish had inherited from John it was his fierce protectiveness of those he loved. Namely his twin.

“Why should we?” The smaller boy folded his arms with an angry look.

“Because if you don’t I’ll tell that blonde girl, Susan is it, that you fancy her,” Hamish smirked as he glanced over the two boys. The shorter one thought he was smart (which he wasn’t). Pampered at home, rich. Used to getting what he wanted. Two older brothers who he was trying to grow up to be like. Bullied because of that.

The bigger boy was from a poorer background. Single mother. Abusive father that left a few months ago. Stupider than most people. Violent and followed those that were smarter than him.

“How?” The smaller boy trailed off with a scowl.