Some writing.
He could feel the poorly cut nails digging into his back as they tried to place the post-it notes, which had already begun to loose their stick, onto the back of his school blazer. Mycroft had told him that if he ignored it, it would eventually stop. Sherlock kept waiting for when it would finally stop.
He was still waiting till it stopped.
"You can't let him in! You're not seriously going to just let him walk all over the evidence like that!?"
Lestrade just glanced at Sally before looking down at the wooden floorboards.
"We need all the help we can get."
"What? We've got enough people working on this case already! We can get this done in a week at the most."
"When I can get it done in a day? You might want to rethink that Donovan."
Sally's face tightened and she pretended she hadn't heard him.
"He's right, we could reduce the amount of lived lost with him on the case. Try and think about what's more important Sally."
"Oh he's not in it for saving any insignificant lives, this is all for fun! Isn't it, freak?" Sherlock held back a wince at her choice of vocabulary, however frequently it was used, he felt something every time. "What about you Doctor? You know your boyfriend best, what do you think?"
Sherlock glared at the back of Sally's head as she turned to face John.
"Right, first of I'm not his boyfriend, or his 'pet' like you said earlier. And I think, he could probably get this done in a hour." As usual John brushed of her insults like nothing, unlike Sherlock who had to try and keep his face straight after each new 'pet name' she ace him.
"Whatever, I'm not letting you in." She childishly blocked the doorway with her arms spread wide.
"Um Sally, you're not actually in charge. Sherlock's working on the case. End of conversation."
"What!?" As Sally dropped her arms in defeat, Sherlock slid past her through the doorway to start examining the body.
"Why do you always do this? Why do you always let him in, to crawl all over the bodies, just for his pure leisure. We're not running a playground Lestrade!" Sherlock found himself glaring at the body lying on the floor. That wasn't true. He did care. But he'd learnt that not showing he cared at least left them trying to find a new way to annoy him.
"Look you and your crippled boyfriend aren't coming back here again. This is the last time I'm letting you in." Sherlock gritted his teeth. He tried to ignore it like Mycroft always told him. But he already found himself standing right behind Donovan, biting his tongue and trying to hold in his worst.
"Excuse me?" Sally spun around at the sudden sound behind her.
"What? What do you want?"
"What did you just say Donovan." There was a still silence, just the sound of Sherlock heavy breathing. For some reason her felt worse, even when she wasn't talking about him. This was the first time she'd ever really brought John into the argument.
John was the first to fill the silence.
"Sherlock.. It's fine, I don't mind just leave it."
"No! I mind!" Sherlock had Donovan cornered with her back against the wall. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, he hadn't felt this angry in a long time, not for a very long time.
"Hey! Faggot!" Sherlock turned around, it was evident this was being addressed to him.
"What is it now."
"I can't believe you actually answered to that!" The other boys surrounding the first had already burst out laughing. Sherlock could never believe how easily amused people were here. He continued staring back at the boy, mother had told him it was best not to give a reaction. However, he was beginning to seriously doubt adults methods.
"Kid, stop staring at me like that!"
"I think he's hitting on you mate." the rest of his friends began sniggering again. Sherlock turned and began to continue down the path to the school gates. He was almost through the metal bars when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. There was a hard push from behind and he found himself lying face down in the gravel.
"Freak! You don't just walk away from me like that." Sherlock stayed with his face down on the floor. He could already feel his warm blood mixing in with the salty water that had started to flow from his eyes. He didn't want to get up. There was nothing to get back up for any more, no one. Mother had lied to him. She'd said it would stop. But he still had scars on his cheeks. He still had messages stuffed through his locker door.
A boot landed on the back of his head, burying his head further into the hard stones. A sob shook through his body as another kick landed in his side.
"Why are you crying? You deserve this freak!" Sherlock had started to believe he deserved it. He wasn't sure why, maybe because he was different. He'd tried to be the same as the rest of the kids, but he just couldn't. A piercing cry sounded, simultaneously with three different feet punted into his sides. Father had said violence was never the answer, but sometimes it was necessary.
Sherlock began to pull himself up from the gravel, him arms shaking and legs wobbling with the strain. A few girls were watching from the gate, they had their mouthed covered with one hand at the sight of his bloodied shirt. He slowly turned around to face the boys, clenching his shaking fists. He raised one hand above his head, the boy's eyes in front of him widened. Sherlock let his fist sail through the air.
"HEY! What are you doing freak? I thought you were supposed to be gay. You can't just start harassing her just because she insulted your little tag along, you're both pretty freaky so th-" Sherlock's fist landed on Anderson's jaw.
"DON'T YOU DARE USE THAT WORD AGAINST HIM." Anderson's limp body slid down against the wall. Sherlock watched him blink his eyes open and stare up at him. He raised his fist again but it was caught by someone else's hand. He turned, rage still in his eyes, to face John. His mood softened slightly, his eyes turning sad at the sight of John's stern face.
"Let's go Sherlock."
"Wh- But.." John dragged Sherlock through the corridors into the bright sunlight.
:)
I could continue this at some point. I haven't wrote in ages but my buddy gives me enough energy to write ha ha.
k bye.
He was still waiting till it stopped.
"You can't let him in! You're not seriously going to just let him walk all over the evidence like that!?"
Lestrade just glanced at Sally before looking down at the wooden floorboards.
"We need all the help we can get."
"What? We've got enough people working on this case already! We can get this done in a week at the most."
"When I can get it done in a day? You might want to rethink that Donovan."
Sally's face tightened and she pretended she hadn't heard him.
"He's right, we could reduce the amount of lived lost with him on the case. Try and think about what's more important Sally."
"Oh he's not in it for saving any insignificant lives, this is all for fun! Isn't it, freak?" Sherlock held back a wince at her choice of vocabulary, however frequently it was used, he felt something every time. "What about you Doctor? You know your boyfriend best, what do you think?"
Sherlock glared at the back of Sally's head as she turned to face John.
"Right, first of I'm not his boyfriend, or his 'pet' like you said earlier. And I think, he could probably get this done in a hour." As usual John brushed of her insults like nothing, unlike Sherlock who had to try and keep his face straight after each new 'pet name' she ace him.
"Whatever, I'm not letting you in." She childishly blocked the doorway with her arms spread wide.
"Um Sally, you're not actually in charge. Sherlock's working on the case. End of conversation."
"What!?" As Sally dropped her arms in defeat, Sherlock slid past her through the doorway to start examining the body.
"Why do you always do this? Why do you always let him in, to crawl all over the bodies, just for his pure leisure. We're not running a playground Lestrade!" Sherlock found himself glaring at the body lying on the floor. That wasn't true. He did care. But he'd learnt that not showing he cared at least left them trying to find a new way to annoy him.
"Look you and your crippled boyfriend aren't coming back here again. This is the last time I'm letting you in." Sherlock gritted his teeth. He tried to ignore it like Mycroft always told him. But he already found himself standing right behind Donovan, biting his tongue and trying to hold in his worst.
"Excuse me?" Sally spun around at the sudden sound behind her.
"What? What do you want?"
"What did you just say Donovan." There was a still silence, just the sound of Sherlock heavy breathing. For some reason her felt worse, even when she wasn't talking about him. This was the first time she'd ever really brought John into the argument.
John was the first to fill the silence.
"Sherlock.. It's fine, I don't mind just leave it."
"No! I mind!" Sherlock had Donovan cornered with her back against the wall. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, he hadn't felt this angry in a long time, not for a very long time.
"Hey! Faggot!" Sherlock turned around, it was evident this was being addressed to him.
"What is it now."
"I can't believe you actually answered to that!" The other boys surrounding the first had already burst out laughing. Sherlock could never believe how easily amused people were here. He continued staring back at the boy, mother had told him it was best not to give a reaction. However, he was beginning to seriously doubt adults methods.
"Kid, stop staring at me like that!"
"I think he's hitting on you mate." the rest of his friends began sniggering again. Sherlock turned and began to continue down the path to the school gates. He was almost through the metal bars when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. There was a hard push from behind and he found himself lying face down in the gravel.
"Freak! You don't just walk away from me like that." Sherlock stayed with his face down on the floor. He could already feel his warm blood mixing in with the salty water that had started to flow from his eyes. He didn't want to get up. There was nothing to get back up for any more, no one. Mother had lied to him. She'd said it would stop. But he still had scars on his cheeks. He still had messages stuffed through his locker door.
A boot landed on the back of his head, burying his head further into the hard stones. A sob shook through his body as another kick landed in his side.
"Why are you crying? You deserve this freak!" Sherlock had started to believe he deserved it. He wasn't sure why, maybe because he was different. He'd tried to be the same as the rest of the kids, but he just couldn't. A piercing cry sounded, simultaneously with three different feet punted into his sides. Father had said violence was never the answer, but sometimes it was necessary.
Sherlock began to pull himself up from the gravel, him arms shaking and legs wobbling with the strain. A few girls were watching from the gate, they had their mouthed covered with one hand at the sight of his bloodied shirt. He slowly turned around to face the boys, clenching his shaking fists. He raised one hand above his head, the boy's eyes in front of him widened. Sherlock let his fist sail through the air.
"HEY! What are you doing freak? I thought you were supposed to be gay. You can't just start harassing her just because she insulted your little tag along, you're both pretty freaky so th-" Sherlock's fist landed on Anderson's jaw.
"DON'T YOU DARE USE THAT WORD AGAINST HIM." Anderson's limp body slid down against the wall. Sherlock watched him blink his eyes open and stare up at him. He raised his fist again but it was caught by someone else's hand. He turned, rage still in his eyes, to face John. His mood softened slightly, his eyes turning sad at the sight of John's stern face.
"Let's go Sherlock."
"Wh- But.." John dragged Sherlock through the corridors into the bright sunlight.
:)
I could continue this at some point. I haven't wrote in ages but my buddy gives me enough energy to write ha ha.
k bye.