A Scandal in Baskerville High

Chapter 24 - Backstories

•Sherlock's POV•

It's heartwarming to know John wants to fix his fear of intercourse with me. That shows he trusts me, that he feels safe with me.

Which still has me scratching my head.

I've failed to protect him so many times - he's been hurt so many times because I failed to be the suit of armor he needs me to be.

I still remember the first time, when I hurt him. "I'm sorry" I had said, as if that made any difference. I punched him, kicked him, beat him into the ground. I made him think I hated him because he's gay. I made him think I'm an asshole.

Then he was beaten senseless in the stairwell, because he ran into Jim and I wasn't there to protect him. I remember Mary coming to me in a frenzy.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, John's hurt! Bad! Come quick!" She had said. I remember it so clearly, how scared I was, how much I knew I'd kill them for that. I almost cried when I first saw his broken form in Mrs. Hudson's room.

Then he was kidnapped, and raped. Raped! Because I'm an idiot, I wasn't watching him. After they beat me for standing up to them, I should've known they'd try to hurt John again. I could've protected him, prevented his demise.

But I didn't. I was stupid and careless, and now he'll never be the same.

"So," John broke the silence, tearing me away from my thoughts, "How did you end up here, anyway?"

I stared at him, taken by surprise at the question. John quickly added, "You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay," I swallowed hard, "It's good to let it out. Um...I lived in a posh family, with two older brothers, Mycroft and Sherrinford. My parents are very religious and have high standards, so being a greaser was bad enough for them. When they found out I was gay...they disowned me. Sent me here until I'm 18. Then, I'm on my own. They don't care what happens to me."

John sighed. Is he...sad for me? He shouldn't be. There's nothing he can do. No point in being sad over things you can do nothing about.

"That's...horrible," John breathed, before he kissed me hard and deep. I kissed him back, running a hand through his hair. A part of me wanted to shove him down onto the bed, but I know that's not what he wants right now.

"It's okay John," I murmured when he pulled away, "No use crying over it. It's over now."

"You're crying."

I reached up to wipe away a stray tear that rolled down my cheek. I sniffed, "Nah...I'm fine."

"It's okay to be sad," John mumbled, "Crying isn't a crime."

"It is for me!" I shouted, "I can't think about that, I can't think of my old life! Don't you see?! I can't! I just can't!"

"Can't or won't?" John asked calmly.

"Both!"

John hushed, "I get it, okay? Life isn't fair. But at least you still have a family. My parents are dead."

"Oh. I-I'm...I'm so sorry, John," I said quietly, hugging him gently, "That's...That's..."

"Not fun," John gave me a sad smile, "My dad killed my mom then killed himself in jail. My sister is staying in a different orphanage, an all-girls one. She'll get out soon, she's almost 18."

"Right. Harriet. What's she like?"

"She's nice. Caring, sweet, was very good to her girlfriend Clara. Still don't know why they broke up, they were so close," John sighed, "Like you deduced, she's an alcoholic. I wish she'd quit."

I nodded, "Okay, my turn. What do you aspire to be when you're older?"

"A doctor. Not a big-time one, just a small one, in a clinic. I want to help people but...I couldn't be a surgeon. I couldn't bear any failed surgeries," John explained. A doctor, I thought. We'd fit well. The detective and the doctor.

"Mrs. Hudson told me your secret ambition is to be a detective," John continued idly, "Sounds nice. You'd do it well."

"Consulting detective," I corrected him.

"What's that?"

"Nothing yet. I invented it."

John scoffed, "Fine. Still cool."

***

"Come here, Redbeard! Here boy!"

I pat my knees to call my red-brown dog Redbeard over. Sherrinford sat on a lawn chair, pretending to be important though he's only 14. Mycroft was standing just behind me, laughing as Redbeard leaped up to nearly knock me over in a dog-hug.

"Redbeard, you clumsy thing!" I giggled, "Get off me, you oaf."

"Boys, dinner!" Mother called from the balcony. We all rushed into the Holmes Manor, the shaggy mutt following close behind.

I'll never forget those days. The days I was happy, carefree, unchallenged. The days when my biggest problem was taking Redbeard out for walks when I'd rather watch crime shows with my brothers and argue over who the culprits were.

Those were the days before everything changed. I miss those days.

The Redbeard days.

**Heh. Redbeard.

Hope you enjoyed! I have a headache but I'll UPDATE ANYWAY.

Remember, y'all just keep being y'all!

xoxo, Garnent•.•**