Told You So

12

Sherlock POV

We made it to the dorm room and laid on my bed. John kept his arms wrapped around me with his head laid up on my chest. We had the telly on for white noise while just listening to the other breathe.

"Sherlock, please don't leave me..."

"I won't. I promise."

The next morning John woke up and looked at me. I smiled softly at him as he leaned up and kissed me. "G'mornin'. You sleep?" John said with a sleepy lull to his voice.

"No, I didn't do much sleeping."

John stretched and walked to his closet, stripping out of his clothes with me watching. I smirked at him as he slipped into dark wash jeans and his go-to cream jumper.

"You look so good," I said as I walked up behind him, placing my hands on his waist. "I've missed you and your annoying jumpers."

John turned and placed his face in the crook of my neck. "Oi! You're still an arrogant arse I see. How did I ever make it being your friend?" He muttered in my neck, placing a kiss there. "God how I love you!"

I smirked, letting go of his waist and looked at him. He smiled at me before pulling me down into a kiss.

I pulled away and tapped his nose. "You wouldn't wanna be late for class; would you? I have some business to solve with my dear brother before I get back on the roll call. I'll see you at lunch," I said, walking to the door.

"Wait! One last kiss?"

I smiled and grabbed him, kissing him one last time before making my way out of the dorm. "Don't forget! Lunch!" I called back as I made my way to my brother's office.

I walked in without knocking and looked at him eating on cake and taking notes on something. "Hello Mike! How's Father?" I greeted as I fell into the seat in front of his desk and placed my feet upon it. "Is he doing well in prison? I do want to know."

"Oh please! Whatever it is you have against our father is simply childish. He is no longer behind bars, and you cannot simply put him there because you want your love interest to stay around."

I paled. My father was out of prison. This was not good. "Mycroft, you need to put him back behind bars! I-I can't explain. Please!" I yelled, begging while the memories of him punishing me played.

"This is childish! You are overreacting as always!"

I closed my eyes feeling the pain throughout my body as he whipped me and yelled out names.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!"

"Sherlock! Stop acting like a child!"

I clawed at my arms, remembering the beatings and sounds. I remembered the way he told me that no one could ever love me. I felt weak as I clawed at my arms, wanting to escape the flood of memories.

I felt arms pulling me away from my brother. I closed my eyes, seeing the whip and his hateful eyes. I couldn't escape it. I screamed until I couldn't. How could Mycroft let the bastard out of prison? Did he hate me so much?

I laid on the ground and looked around me. I was trapped in a padded cell with no way of contacting John and explaining what was happening to me.

"John...I'm so sorry."

John POV

I

sat in class, feeling bored. I couldn't wait for the class to finish so I could talk to Sherlock. Then, a brunette walked in and whispered to the teacher, who beckoned me to the front of the room.

"Ma'am?"

"Anthea will show you out. Might want to grab your stuff. You're needed by Mycroft."

Something happened to Sherlock. Oh no.

I ran and gathered my stuff, following the brunette who immediately pulled her phone out and typed away. She stopped at a door and pointed. "Mycroft is waiting in there. Don't wanna keep him waiting," she said, walking off.

I took in a deep breath and opened the door. Mycroft stood and looked at me. "Took you long enough!" He exclaimed. I crossed my arms and looked at him. He only sighed. "Sherlock has completely gone mad. I have him locked up, but he won't stop. It's positively atrocious."

"What do you mean? He won't stop what?"

"Oh please! You have heard his insane stories about his childhood! His father and all that nonsense!"

I glared at Mycroft. He didn't believe his little brother. "Where is he? He needs to get away from you," I hissed at him.

"Don't tell me you believe him."

"I've seen it. That bastard deserves to stay behind bars! Sherlock was just getting better when that bastard hurt him again! I had to fight him to get away from Sherlock!"

Mycroft paled, causing me to look at him. "What did you do?" I hissed.

"Father was in prison. Key word here is was. I bailed him out. Said there was no proof, so he couldn't be tried unfairly."

"You bastard! Where is Sherlock? I'm getting him out of here!"

"John, I truly am sorry. I didn't know. He always hated Father with no telling as to why."

"Save it for later."

I ran looking for Sherlock. I needed him; he needed me. I found a door where my name was being called. I looked at the guards, standing by it and nodded. "Lemme see him. I'm John Watson," I said, glaring at them as they reluctantly opened the door.

I looked in to see Sherlock curled in on himself, shivering and tears falling down his face. "Oh my God!" I cried, running towards him. "Are you okay?"

He wouldn't answer; he only repeated my name. I just held on to him and rubbed my hand through his hair. "It's going to be alright," I whispered into his hairline. "I swear it will be."

Oh! How I wish that could be true!