I do not own Sherlock (BBC), The BBC own it. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle owns Sherlock Holmes. I make no money from writing this, I am but a fan.
A/N: Sorry for the long update! I got around to it finally. Sorry about the grammer and spelling _
It happened thirteen years ago. The snow had set across the country grounds but the private college remained opened like a cold statement to the rich.
Sherlock glanced through the car window to look up at the top of the building with interest. Set on the roof was a arch that had a bell inside it. Sherlock glanced at Mycroft who was looking grimly out the window.
"Am I to stay here big brother?" Sherlock asked, touching his brothers knee. Mycroft reached out and clasped his brothers hand.
"Quite right little brother. I expect you to write to me quite often about it." He said and Sherlock nodded eagerly before turning to his own window again. He began to count the number of snowdrops that were falling onto his window placing his fingers over them. Mycroft watched his brother and hesitated for a moment before reaching over and undoing Sherlock's seatbelt as well as his own. The car came to a halt and Sherlock leaned his head against the cold glass.
"Big brother, how long will I have to stay?" Sherlock asked as the engine stopped spluttering. Mycroft looked ahead, his hand still holding onto his younger brother's.
"You know Sherlock that you need to get better; I expect to see you again in the late fall if you work as hard as possible." He said biting his lip as Sherlock shuddered, obviously fighting back the tears.
"Now don't do that, you'll spoil your first impression." Mycroft said before clearing his throat and opening his door.
Outside the gates stood a man, a doctor that Mycroft had assigned to Sherlock for his treatment. The man nodded at Mycroft and smiled warmly. Mycroft knew what was about to happen, he knew that in a moment this Sherlock would be forever lost to him. With a sigh, Mycroft went round to Sherlock's door and proceeded to open it, but like he'd guessed Sherlock had pushed down the lock. Hoping that by some luck Sherlock hadn't done it intentionally he tagged lightly on the glass.
"Sherlock would you might undoing the lock?" He spoke with a friendly manner, but Sherlock didn't move instead he kept his head down. Mycroft tugged open the front door and asked the driver to exit the car. The driver glanced nervously at his young master slumped in the backseat and then back to Mycroft, who was inches away from his face; without any further instruction he climbed out.
The elder Holmes knelled down in the driver seat and stretched half of his body across the front and back seats of the car. Mycroft smiled warmly at his brother and rested his own hand on Sherlock's limp and skinny wrist.
"Come now Sherlock, let's not make a scene." He whispered tenderly, Sherlock shuddered.
"I don't want to go." Sherlock begged and it broke Mycroft's heart to see those tear filled eyes.
"It's for your own good little brother." Mycroft said. They stared for a moment, none of them willing to back down.
Mycroft tightened his grip of Sherlock's wrist and suddenly lurched the boy forward, Sherlock fought back shaking his head and mumbling 'I'm not going, I'm not going' over and over again.
Mycroft brought his other hand up and grabbed hold of the boys shirt and pulled him over the seats, all the while Sherlock screamed and kicked out, Mycroft tried to bring Sherlock's head down to the car door level and accidentally scratched the boy's face resulting in a nasty cut.
With a final tug, Mycroft lifted the screaming boy out the car and threw the boy into the snow.
"Get in!" He barked at the driver, the driver spared a single look at Sherlock's quivering body then jumped into the car and started the engine again.
Sherlock was picking himself up as Mycroft opened the back seat. They exchanged a look. Sherlock's face was bleeding and the contrast with the snow on his face made him look quite innocent and childish. The man had walked into the scene now, frowning and looking slightly confused but neither paid much attention to him.
"I'm so sorry." Mycroft whispered and he climbed into the car. Sherlock raced to it instantly, banging on the window and pleading for his brother to let him stay. Mycroft didn't even look up as the car drove away faster from his brother's running body. He felt a tear glide down his cheek as Sherlock cried out heart breaking insults and sentences the one in particular that hurt him the worst was 'I'll never forgive you!'. As the gates closed firmly, Mycroft looked back and saw his brother's eyes but they were no longer filled with hope, but with something darker, hate. Mycroft wiped the tear from his cheek and looked down at it.
Sherlock would never write.
Mycroft had never expected to see his brother so exposed. On the 10th of January, Mycroft had set out early morning to surprise his younger brother on his birthday. He expected his brother to be sleeping when he arrived at the school, but when he looked, Sherlock had not been in his bed. At once he enquired about his brother and was informed that Sherlock spent a lot of his time 'experimenting' in the labs. That's where Mycroft found him.
Bent over the lab table with a man on top of him. Sherlock was moaning, crying out for this man as he was thrust into over and over again. The man was smirking, driving in harder and causing Sherlock to scream and shudder.
"How do you like it Sherlock? My cock inside of you, does it feel good?" He hissed grabbing hold of Sherlock's locks and tugging them for leverage. Mycroft put a hand to his mouth and leaned across the wall, he had judged by the man's jacket that he was a doctor...probably the same man that Sherlock had to meet every month for his general check up.
"Hhm! More please, I-I-" Sherlock's words were drowned out.
Mycroft had heard enough. Dumping the present into a nearby waste bin, he exited the building and climbed into his car and began to plan his letter the government at once. Hacking into the college's financial stating, he searched for a name to fit the face and at once found a Doctor John Watson.
_ Anyone think I should of just stuck to one-shots?