Told You So

16

John POV

I stared at everyone as they packed, getting ready to go home, making sure they had their beneficial other half's number. I didn't want to see my dad; I wanted to just grab Sherlock's hand and run. I didn't want anything more than that.

I waited an hour after everyone left before the ratty old car came up to the school. I was the living personification of poor.

Dad was driving, which meant awkward silence the whole trip. "How was your school year?" He blurted out.

"Different."

I didn't lie. I fell in love for the first time and got my heart broken. I haven't seen him since that night my dad came in and attacked Sherlock then me. He still had my heart, though.

"How so?"

"It's hard to pinpoint the exact reason. It's definitely worth the scholarship."

"What bout that boy?"

No. No. No! Anything but Sherlock!

I decided not to lie. "He left the day after you visited. I haven't heard from him since he left," I replied in an awkward way.

"Huh? He just up and left? Weird."

I smiled softly. I couldn't seem to get him out of my head ever since he left.

Sherlock POV

I laid on my bed without anything on but a sheet soaked with blood. I had been punished for trying to contact John. I didn't get a message out before getting whipped.

It was clear for now. I was breaking my promise with myself. Then my door opened, and Father stood there, watching me as I set the phone down. He knew.

"Sherlock, unwrap the blanket. You know the rules."

I watched as he walked in and closed the door, making sure it was locked. Not again. He smirked has he crawled in between my legs, holding on tightly to a whip.

"Beg."

I begged for no more pain, but it was futile. I no longer cared anymore. I had no one that loved me anyways.

When the beatings stopped, I heard only breathing coming from Father. (Warning! This is creepy and I apologize for this!) The zipper of his pants started to move, and I bit my lip. I knew what was coming.

He grabbed my face and made me stare at him as he wrapped an arm around my waist. Please, no! He positioned himself so he could enter me and smiled when I just stopped protesting. Everything about this was wrong.

"You like guys so much. This is what it feels like to sleep with them," he would whisper in my ear.

Except, this was rape. This wasn't what it felt like. Sleeping with someone didn't automatically mean sex. I slept with John. He probably had forgotten I existed since I left.

I felt him come as I realised my issues. I could have prevented myself from leaving John. I had to contact him.

"Remember! No phone until I say!"

I sighed, wrapping myself back in the sheet. He could punish me all day, but I was not going to avoid John much longer.

John POV

His number showed up on my caller ID before my father smashed it in his blind, drunken rage. Sherlock was never going to contact me; I'd never hear his voice again. God! How I missed him.

"Why is that fag calling you?"

Tears fell down my face. "I love him! I love him, and you can't do anything about it!" I screamed as his fist collided with my cheek. "I love him, and I will never see him again!" Another collision with my cheek by his fist.

I tasted blood in my mouth. My face started to swell and get sore as he walked away, crushing the remains of my phone under his foot. I lost Sherlock, again.
*******
My dad walked in with Mum behind him. "Johnny," she said softly. "We got you a new phone. Yours got destroyed. I'm sorry that your contacts are not in here, but it's the same number."

She handed over a box with the picture of a phone on it. I smiled softly while I opened it. Father watched me as I turned it on. It had been three days since that beating and destroying of my phone, so I called Sherlock as they headed out. He didn't answer, but another man's voice did.

"Hello?"

"Uhm, is this Sherlock Holmes' number?"

"Yes. Who're you?"

"A friend."

A sharp chortle came from the other line. "My son doesn't have friends!" He hollered, and I remembered. That was the bastard that did unspeakable horrors to his own son for entertainment. "Now, why you want ma son?"

"Look, I need to speak with him. I think he accidentally packed one of my science books when he left. I need to turn it in because it's passed due."

Grumbling from the other line then a weak voice said," Hello?" I smiled against myself. His voice made me draw in a breath and stop my heart momentarily as I realised the pain.

"Sherlock...I've missed you."

"Why? Why would you miss me?"

I shook my head at him and his stupidity with relationships. But, how I loved him so. "Why wouldn't I? I loved seeing your face when I woke up and when I fell asleep. I can't now. I can't even speak to you that much. I just want to see you," I said, quietly.

"John, you don't. You don't want to see me. Look, say what you need; I'm strapped for time."

He was anxious about something. "Do you have my Anatomy and Physiology book? I think you packed it," I blurted out, not wanting him to get in trouble but also not wanting to let go of him.

"Hold up. Lemme check."

I heard him wince as he stood and shuffled about. "Are you okay?" I asked softly barely even a whisper.

"Yeah, I packed it."

He ignored my want to know if I should kill his dad or not. "I'll send you the address. I'm sorry for taking it," he muttered before whispering as soft as he could," I'm not okay."

I shot up and ran out of the house when he hung up and slid into my trainers. I ran as fast as I could to see him once again. I made it to his house and marveled at its elegance. It screamed out that Sherlock lived here.

I took a deep breath before knocking on the door.