Saint Baskerville Academy (Teenlock/Johnlock)

Chapter 1: Meeting on the Train

Hello dears!

Another Sherlock fic coming your way! This is teenlock! This first chapter is pretty dang long. I sort of just went with it, not sure where to stop it until I found a suitable stopping point. I hope you enjoy!
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WARNING: This chapter contains slight reference to drug use. Nothing TOO bad though.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own BBC Sherlock, the original story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the fanart/picture. I give all credit to the original creators. I just own this story. You may not take my fanfic and use it as your own work. Thank you.

Xoxo,
Molly

Sherlock

I slam my trunk closed, mumbling angrily to myself.

Stupid school. Stupid parents making me go to the stupid school. I don't understand why I have to go. It's so boring. Ugh. Everyone there will be stupid. I'm fifteen for Christ sake. Why can't I just drop out--

I can hear Mycroft approach the entrance of my room, but I ignore him. I deem his presence below me therefore I do not care to acknowledge his presence.

"Sherlock." Mycroft drawls after a moment of being ignored. I continue to ignore him as he goes on talking with his usual bored demeanour. "Sherlock. Stop being childish. We need to go. You've wasted enough time." He says annoyed.

"Piss off." I spat at him.

"Come off it, Sherlock." He responds, now visibly agitated. "We need to go. You've been kicked out of all your other schools. Saint Baskerville Academy is the only school that will take you at the last minute. We need to go. Now." He says with finality.

"I'll be down in a bloody minute!" I shout at him, trying to do anything to get him to leave. Thank god it works.

"Fine. Five minutes, Sherlock. Or I'll come up here and drag you out."

I scoff at that threat and think to myself, "Suuuurrrrreeeeeee. I'd like to see you try."

I listen closely as he leaves my room, walks down the hall, and descends the stairs. I run quietly over to my door and peek out making sure I am alone. Upon seeing that no one else is upstairs, I close my door softly.

I turn back facing my large room. Most of the walls are filled with bookshelves crammed tight with books of varying literature. Mostly they are textbooks; chemistry, psychology, biology, maths, etc... I make my way to one particular book on the top shelf closest to my huge bed. I pull out Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne. It was my favourite book as a child; I still enjoy reading it sometimes and have bought an extra copy for a specific and very different purpose.

The book I pull out is my decoy copy. I have fastened the pages down and cut out the insides, making a discreet hole in the centre of the book. I open up the book and peer at the contents inside. I can feel my pupils dilate and my breath quicken.

Inside is a small bag of white powder, needles, a lighter, and a burnt spoon. I pull out the bag of heroine, looking at it longingly. I want a taste, just one hit before I have to make the long, boring journey to my new school. But I know I can't, Mycroft would notice.

I sigh quietly and place the bag back into the book and close it, placing it gently into my rucksack. I grab my trunk and sling my rucksack over my shoulder, leaving my room. I clatter down the stairs and outside to the black car waiting for me. The driver puts my trunk in the boot as I get in. Mycroft waits for me on the inside.