There Is Nothing Wrong With Me

Not A Force To Be Reckoned With

"Well, not like, the topmost layer of stuff just like, minor stuff. Stuff that lasted a good five minutes or so." Sherlock admitted with a shrug, and the girls looked a little bit less excited to hear that.
"Well anyway, that's good for you Sherlock." Molly assured with a smile, patting him confidently on the shoulder before swinging her locker shut with a snap.
"Can you fill us in on just what happened over lunch?" Sarah wondered.
"I ought to know, just in case someone asks me how it went." Molly agreed with a sharp nod.
"What's going on?" wondered another girl, looking back and forth between Molly and Sherlock with a very vacant expression in her heavily lined eyes.
"Oh what does it matter? Just go eat lunch, we'll be with Sherlock." Molly insisted, waving her friends away with a friendly enough smile. They dispersed nervously, clumping up as if they were magnetically attracted, whispering in tight groups and every once in a while stealing glances back at Sherlock and Molly, as if wondering what kind of relationship was going on here.
"Great, so now my friends think that we're dating." Molly said with a bit of a sigh, looking back at her friends, smiling and waving minutely, before turning back to Sherlock with a frown.
"Well the more people that think it the better I guess." Sherlock muttered, trying to keep things on the bright side.
"No but they already know about Greg. So now they're thinking I'm not only dating two boys, but also dating a homosexual." Molly muttered, as if trying the words out to see just how they flowed off of her tongue. Sherlock didn't care all that much, this way if his mother stopped more kids on the side of the street they'll be educated with the drama and could pass on a story that was certainly worth her time.
"Oh even they're not that stupid. Obviously we were just using your name for a cover." Sherlock insisted doubtfully, but the looks on the two girl's faces made him doubt his accusations at once.
"I don't know Sherlock...they're pretty stupid." Sarah muttered nervously.
"Alright, give me an example." Sherlock decided, putting this alleged stupidity to the test. If they matched up anywhere with Anderson, the dumbest kid he had ever known at Wisteria, then he would be rather impressed.
"Just the other day Sally listed Albert Einstein as one of the founding fathers of America." Molly pointed out, sounding thoroughly embarrassed for her poor friend and her pea sized brain. Sherlock winced; properly astounded with the level of stupidity these girls had managed to reach.
"Point taken. Lunch?" he wondered hopefully, holding up his brown paper back and looking between the two girls for clarification.
"Lunch." Molly agreed, turning and heading off for the cafeteria with her noble posy on her heals. They all arranged around Sherlock's secluded table, unpacking their lunches while Sherlock gave the complete overview of what had happened the night previous. He described in great detail how John had called, demanded his presence, and met him at the corner. He talked about the way John's hair sparkled and his eyes glistened and how soft his hands were and how gentle his kisses were, he talked about how John had pulled him into the water and nearly froze him to death, and went on and on about the new stars he had learned. Overall he wasn't too convinced that Molly or Sarah really cared enough to listen about how John's heartbeat sounded while they were lying in the grass; however they busied themselves with their lunches while Sherlock rambled so all in all it wasn't completely useless.
"I think John's been talking to Victor, or at least Victor's been talking at John." Sherlock admitted finally, poking unhappily at his sandwich as if it had done something to offend him. That was enough to get the girls' attention, drama and a nice plot twist was enough to whip their heads around so violently he thought their spines might snap.
"What do you mean by that? Surely Victor's not behind this whole thing?" Molly wondered nervously.
"What if it's a trap, some sort of revenge, and John's just the bait?" Sarah suggested at once, to which Molly nodded enthusiastically. Sherlock just groaned, rolling his eyes doubtfully although, of course, he knew he had to keep reasonable suspicion in play here.
"No idiot would use love as a revenge weapon." He pointed out, and the girls just frowned, as if they either knew someone who had done that or were guilty of it themselves.
"It's illegal to break a man's body but his heart is fair game." Molly pointed out with a shrug.
"And sometimes breaking the heart hurts more." Sarah pointed out rather morbidly.
"Guys I really don't think Victor's behind all this, what I was trying to say was that we were um, you know, doing stuff..." Sherlock muttered.
"Kissing, making out, or more?" Molly wondered curiously, sounding so calm with this topic of conversation that it was kind of unnerving. Sherlock blinked for a moment, trying to think of which category his riverbank experience would fall into.
"I'd say kissing, just because we were in a stream, and yet wait, there's more. I was, well, I was going a bit further you know? Testing my boundaries a bit?" Sherlock muttered rather guiltily. The girls smiled in excitement, sharing a glance that certainly meant something that Sherlock didn't understand.
"You rascal you." Sarah insisted with a little laugh.
"No but he stopped, he pulled away all together, almost as if he was...scared." Sherlock admitted heavily, pushing his lunch away finally and staring rather doubtfully at the table below.
"Don't doubt him just because he's modest." Sarah assured in a soft voice.
"It's not that, no it definitely wasn't...He said that Victor had told him to stay away from me, almost like a warning. And John, well, he asked me to promise him that I didn't...do what everyone says I did." Sherlock muttered, dropping his voice lower as if any of the eavesdroppers would need clarification.
"Oh my God! Is Victor trying to convince John that you're going to rape him?" Molly whispered in a hush voice, making Sherlock rigid in disgust.
"Please try to keep that horrible word as a last resort." Sherlock begged, and Molly simply covered her mouth sharply, nodding and looking extremely apologetic.
"So sorry." She whispered timidly.
"It's fine, it's fine, but I share your concerns. I'm not all together convinced that John still thinks I'm innocent." Sherlock admitted gravely.
"Surely he wouldn't believe such idiotic tales?" Sarah insisted doubtfully, looking over at Sherlock as if wondering why he didn't share her optimism. Instead he was getting more worried than ever, knowing that John was trapped in those walls with Victor, all of his manipulative words and his powerful gaze, he was the definition of an idiotic tale but he convinced everyone so thoroughly he was able to send Sherlock to therapy for the rest of his life.
"Victor's not a force to be reckoned with." Sherlock warned quietly.
"I've never even seen this kid. What does he look like?" Sarah wondered, still sounding doubtful, as if Sherlock had been making all this up as he went along. Sherlock winced as the image of that hateful boy reappeared in his mind once more.
"He's um, he's tall." Sherlock started obviously, not knowing where to go from there. Of course the memory of Victor had been etched into his very consciousness ages ago and he remembered him so vividly he could describe every inch of his face, and yet he simply didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to remember. "And he's got brown hair, parted off to the side and he gels it back, and he's very tall and thin but powerful. And he always wears a look of contradiction, even if you're saying nothing or doing nothing he'll look like he disagrees."
"Sounds like a real heck of a guy." Molly muttered doubtfully.
"He's everything hateful in this world personified into a living breathing person." Sherlock agreed determinedly, his hands quivering as they lay flat on the table. "And to think, there was a time when I loved him." There was a silence of course, the exact sort of dead silence you expect when a sentence such as that was dropped in the middle of a semiserious conversation. Sherlock sat forward in his chair with his hands shaking more violently than ever while the two girls sat awkwardly straight, looking at one another a couple of times as if to try to see who would be the one to say the first word. In the end it appeared that they thought it better to stay quiet altogether, and so they said nothing, and Sherlock certainly appreciated the gesture. He wasn't in the mood for talking, especially not about Victor Trevor.