My Saving Grace

Chapter 3

John kicked the auditorium door open making Sherlock stand from his seat carefully. As he made his way to John, he found the boy already looking for his eyes.  

"Nice bruises," Sherlock said sarcastically 

"Nice coat," John said back. "Did you get it from your grandad's closest?"

"My grandmothers actually." 

John chuckled it was a sound that made Sherlock's heart race but that wasn't why Sherlock had requested his presence. So with a shake of his head, Sherlock changed what he had to say next.

"What is it like living in an abusive home with a father who is drunk all of the time?"

John didn't know what to say he was frozen. No one was supposed to know that. No one was supposed to find out. That was his secret. His private secret. So without a second thought, John turned and bolted for the door. 

He didn't make it far. Sherlock had grabbed his arm yanking him back. 

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," John said with a wavering voice. His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips. "I have a good life."

"The bruises-

"Are from Rugby." 

"The bruise on your stomach. That is from a fist. The marks on your shoulders those are from someone grabbing you and holding you in place. The ones on your back that you cover with a sweatshirt those aren't from the game." Sherlock spat. "Don't tell me you've had a good life when someone is obviously putting their hands on you." 

John was at a loss for words. How did Sherlock know? Why didn't he hide them better? He knew he should have dressed before coming in here.

"I saw them last night. And earlier this morning." Sherlock said as though he was reading the boy's mind. "Lemme guess? Dad can't ever keep a job, hits you and your mother. You work to help pay bills and stay so he won't hit your mother."

John clenched his teeth. "You don't know anything about me."

"Maybe not," Sherlock agreed. "But this I do know. And this is how you change someone's behaviour. I mean look at you, you're standing with your hands balled into fists at your sides and your jaw clenched, you are angry. And more so afraid of what I'm going to do with the information I have."

"What are you going to do with it?" John asked finally with a sigh letting his hands rest at his sides.

"Nothing." Sherlock shrugged.

"Nothing?"

"I was just proving a point."

"You're a right off prick you know?"

Sherlock gave a small smirk, "So I've been told."

"So what do you want to do for this project?"

"No clue. I just know I'm hungry"

"Dinner?" John asked feeling his own hunger

Sherlock nodded and tucked his hands in his pockets falling into stride with his new partner.

"So tell me." John asked, "How did you know, for me I mean, and the bruises?"

"You were cleaning tables from the night before and I saw the ones on your back when your shirt rode up. Then this morning you stretched and I saw the one on your stomach."

"How'd you know it was my father."

"Too big to be at the hands of a woman."

John nodded processing things as they walked.