Missing. (Johnlock) (Teenlock)

Chapter four

The next day Sherlock wasn't in school. This worried John as he had planned a speech apologising to the other boy when they next saw each other, yet Sherlock not turning up could only mean something was wrong. He spent the whole day worrying about his actions, particularly in maths when he stared at the empty seat which had once seated Sherlock.

Sherlock was absent the day after that as well. By then John could see his friends giving each other worried glances about what was wrong with him, Mary even tried to speak to him about it, though John only shrugged her off, telling her he wasn't feeling well.

At lunch, Molly looked around the canteen,

"Um, Sherlock hasn't been in school for a whil-" She began,

"Don't you think we know that Molly!?" John suddenly yelled at her, standing and grabbing his bag. The boy began to storm out of the hall when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His heart began to race, imagining the gorgeous man standing behind him but when he turned the concerned face of Mary met him,

"Hey." She said calmly, releasing John. He sighed and shook his head,

"I'm not in the mood, Mary." He muttered, beginning to walk off again.

"Look John, I'm worried about you. What happened?" Mary asked, causing John to stop and sigh,

"I... I kissed him. And I scared him off. Now he's not in school and it's all my fault." John said quietly, feeling a lump at the back of his throat. With that, he began to walk off, leaving Mary where they had been standing.

John soon got to the school gates. He knew he shouldn't bunk off but it seemed the best option at that moment. What John hadn't expected was to be greeted by a large, expensive looking car with tinted windows. Mycroft stood, leaning against the car, his arms folded at the chest, 

"A quick word, John." He said, opening the door as if offering the conversation to John, though the look on his face told the boy it wasn't an option. Reluctantly, John climbed into the car and sat, looking out of the window.

After about five minutes of being driven, Mycroft turned his head to look at John,

"I assume you know what triggered my brother's odd behaviours."

John grunted and looked out the window, keeping his back to Mycroft.

"Since you're not willing to comply, I'll do the talking. Sherlock has run away." 

John froze. Sherlock had actually left home because of what had happened!? He turned desperately towards Mycroft and was about to speak when the man interrupted him,

"It wouldn't be the first time, and trust me this isn't your fault." Mycroft's words calmed John a little, though he still felt completely guilty, "I'm sure my brother wouldn't want this information know, however it is for his own good. Our parents have never strictly... liked Sherlock. They have had many arguments over the past sixteen years of his life and some, unfortunately, ending in violence, Sherlock on the receiving end." 

John was completely stunned by what he was hearing,

"I'm sure you understand that this has troubled Sherlock greatly. I have tried on many occasions to protect Sherlock, however I have only rarely been able to do this, being seven years older and living away from home. Since a young age he has found it very... difficult to trust people and therefore prefers his own company, though I'm sure he's just as harsh about himself in his own head as mother and father are." Mycroft frowned, his thoughts going back to his childhood and having to watch Sherlock being tormented by his own parents, though soon got back to his speech, "He has been able to surpress any romantic feelings, leaving himself completely relient on himself... until recently, it seems. Your little kiss made my brother realise that he needed something more than himself, he needed you."

John was stunned and sat in absolute silence. Now that he thought about it, it all made sense. The way he disliked contact, wouldn't even rely on teachers and had been cast out the other night. John sighed, "So... what do I do?" He asked quietly, looking at the ground.

Mycroft frowned, "I'm not sure there is anything you can do. I have men out searching for him, they know his common spots, not that it will be much good since Sherlock is known to be... slippery."

Soon the car pulled up in front of John's house. He turned to Mycroft, a lump in his thoat, "Text me if anything happens... please." He said quietly.

The older man nodded and placed his hand on John's shoulder, "Sherlock will be fine, he has some common sense." 

John nodded to Mycroft and then climbed out  of the car, hoping Mycroft would text him soon.