Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Martin was well and truly dreading the day ahead at school. Hamish had somehow come down with the flu on Saturday and was still bedridden. He was getting better and had tried to convince their fathers that he was well enough to go to school but Papa had quite clearly said no. They both wanted Hamish to recover as quickly as possible. It was bad news for Martin, though. The only reason he had been left alone since that fateful day two years ago with the bullies was because he had spent all his time around Hamish and Mortimer. Three people were a larger target than one. And Mortimer did karate so that always helped. But Mortimer would spend time with Martin if Hamish wasn't there. Mortimer didn't really like Martin. The feeling was possibly mutual. They didn't exactly have much in common.

Martin stood alone in the line as his class waited to be let into the school. Molly had been incredibly enthusiastic that morning; then again she always was. Molly loved school. Quite unlike her brothers who just got through it. Hamish found it boring and easy. Martin just disliked the whole thing. For numerous reasons.

The rest of the day went by at a sluggish pace. Martin spent it avoiding his classmates wherever possible. Especially the bullies. He didn't want to bump into them again. No, that was the last thing on earth that he wanted. He hadn't done anything wrong to them... Not as far as he was aware.

Martin let out a visible sigh of relief when the bell rang to signal the end of the school. He had survived. He had somehow managed to survive the entire day. The group of bullies hadn't even come near him. Obviously they had decided that really there was no reason to be mean to him. In any way.

"Martin, could I please speak to you," Martin blinked, freezing as he moved towards the door.

"Yes, Miss Adams," Martin mumbled quietly in reply. He slipped over to the teacher, gulping. He wasn't in trouble, was he? He was pretty sure he hadn't done anything wrong.

"How is Hamish?" Miss Adams asked, looking concerned.

"Oh, he's fine," Martin stammered. "He just got the flu on Saturday and Papa wouldn't let him come into school." Miss Adams nodded.

"Anything you would like to talk about? You spent all of break and lunch alone today."

Martin shook his head instantly. "I just wanted to draw." What a terrible excuse. But it would do. Miss Adams arched an eyebrow and Martin could tell that she didn't believe him.

"If you ever want to talk to me don't hesitate," she smiled. "Now, I'm sure you want to get home. Have a good day, Martin." Martin nodded to Miss Adams before scurrying out of the classroom. That was true. He just wanted to get back home to his twin brother. So he could talk to him. Martin hoped that Hamish would get better by tomorrow. So he wouldn't be alone at school. He hurried down the corridor, frowning at the group of people spread across it and stopping him from reaching the doors.

"Excuse me," he stammered, pushing his glasses nervously up his nose. A certain sense of nausea began to rise up from his stomach. This only increased as one of the boys turned around.

"Not going to happen, freak." Martin blinked, panic causing his heart to beat faster. Jason had grown in two years so that he was taller than Martin (who was pretty tall himself) and much bigger, being a sports player. Martin didn't know why he hated him so much. He hadn't done anything to them.

"Please, can I just get past?"

"No. You're staying right here, freak." Martin gulped. He could deal with the verbal abuse. It hurt... But he knew it wasn't true. He wasn't a freak. If things got physical... Well, he didn't know. And things seemed to be heading that way.

"I just want to go home," Martin stammered. "I never did anything to you." Jason's face twisted into a sneer. The boys he was with had begun to move closer to Martin.

"Never did anything to me?" Jason laughed. "Think again, you gay freak. Your precious dad got my father fired. My dad was one of the best detective inspectors until your dad came along. You have done something to me."

"That wasn't me," Martin stammered, glancing about in fear. There was no way to get around them. Wait... The boy's toilets were nearby. If he got to them and locked himself in a cubicle then maybe they'd eventually get bored and leave him alone. Or Papa would come looking for him. Yes, he'd do that. That way he would avoid getting hurt.

He waited only a moment before suddenly spinning around and running as fast as he could. He had a head start. That was what he needed. Because they were all faster than him. He pushed the door to the boy's toilets open, practically jumping in. He headed for a cubicle, praying that they were surprised enough to have not caught up yet.

He felt himself getting grabbed and thrown to the ground. He automatically curled up into a small ball, whimpered.

"Freak." Was all he heard before a foot connected with his back. He winced, squeezing his eyes closed. Trying not to dwell on the pain. He didn't understand it. He hadn't directly done anything wrong. He wished Hamish was here. Or Papa. Papa would stop them. So would Daddy.

He tried not to let out any cries of pain as the blows continued to come. That was what they wanted. Exactly what they wanted. Sharp pain exploded around his body, the kicking occasionally punctured by words such as freak, gay and fag. Martin just wanted it to stop. He wanted it all to stop, to be a bad dream. So he could go home.

He felt a crushing pain in his head and then there were dots swarming across his vision. Darkness was closing in. Martin hoped for it to end as he blacked out.