Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Dr John Watson watched his partner Sherlock Holmes rocked back and forth, palm in his ears, humming a discordant tone. He wasn’t surprised that Sherlock would be like this; especially with the week they had.

They had been chasing a murderer last night. Sherlock didn’t get much sleep in three days which was not unusual. John stood up to make a cup of tea. He thought he needed to write that case for the blog.

He boiled the water. “Sherlock?” He asked from the doorway of the kitchen. “You want tea?”

Sherlock showed up in the doorway. “My brain is rutting; I need a case.”

“You just have a case, in the meantime, you need to eat, Sherlock.”

“Eating is boring, John,” Sherlock said, but he seated himself on the dinner table waiting for John’s pasta.

After he ate Sherlock left John to write the blog for last nights case. John heard Sherlock rustle around the lab converted bedroom. He began writing when he heard Mrs Hudson enter the flat with a plate of biscuits.

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson,” John said taking the biscuits off her hand.

“Is Sherlock all right?” Mrs Hudson asked crossing her arms.

“Why?” John asked a tad bit confused.

Mrs Hudson frowned. “When I got in here two hours ago he was rocking. I never saw him do that.”

John frowned, Mycroft told him when he abducted him that first time quite deliberately that Sherlock was on the autism spectrum. Apparently, Big brother didn’t tell Mrs Hudson about it huh? John thought. “It is not my place to tell you, Mrs Hudson, asked him, yourself?”

Sherlock strode out of his laboratory looking as though he saw a ghost. “What?” He asked looking at John and Mrs Hudson and back again and he was frowning with suspicion.

John stood at the threshold between the seating area and the kitchen, with one hand on his back. “Give us a moment, Mrs Hudson.”

The elderly woman looked bewildered but left the room. “Sherlock?” John said after Mrs Hudson left.

Sherlock spun to face John. “What are you talking about, John?”

John sighed. “Why haven’t you told her you are autistic? She’s worried, Sherlock.”

The doorbell was ringing outside. “Wait for a second, I am getting this.” He bounced two at a time downstairs.

John walked the seventeen steps and opened the door a man and a woman stood husband and wife; that much was clear. “What can I help you with?”

The man looked at his wife as if willing her to speak. “We are here to speak with Sherlock Holmes.”

John sighed. Sherlock wasn't dressed today; he was wearing a dressing gown over a teeshirt and a pyjama bottoms. “Wait a minute.” He climbed back up. “Sherlock, get dress, we have a client.”

Sherlock dutifully went upstairs to their bedroom. John followed him up. “Sherlock?”

“Yes, I am dressing.”

“We’re not done with Mrs Hudson.”

“I know.” Sherlock clambered down wearing his customary suit while John followed on his heels.

John fetched the clients down at the front landing. When he was up Sherlock was pacing the living room. He cleared his throat. “Sherlock, this is Doctor Carlson and his wife Doctor Andreka .”

Sherlock looked at them with his piercing gaze. “Mid-forties, surgeon and oncologist, a kid in boarding school.” The clients stunned sat at the sofa, while they sat on their chairs. “How can we help you with?” Sherlock said.

The man handed Sherlock a piece of paper. “Our son, sent this to us via post today, he was from Newton School in Chippenham.”

Sherlock looked at the piece of paper. “Ah… It’s a book cypher.” John lent in to see what was the matter. “Do you know what book it is, sir?”

The man shook his head. “However we brought his books.” He said.

“When did you last saw your son?” John asked reading the book titles.

Dr Andreka looked worried. “We last saw Maximilian this weekend.” She frowned.

“And How was he acting?” Sherlock asked.

The woman looked at Sherlock and frowned. “He is feeling sick, stayed in his room that whole weekend.”

Sherlock sighed. “When did this,” he said, holding the piece of paper to them, “came in the mail?”

“Yesterday.”

Sherlock nodded. “So was he talking about what was going on at school?” He asked playing with a stress ball in his right hand.

“No.” Carlson looked at him. “He never told us, teenagers, as you know.”

“Okay,” John said. “Mr Holmes would call you if he would be taking your case, Sherlock?”

“Right,” Sherlock said, Carlson and Andreka looked at the books. “You can pick these books up tomorrow.”

She sighed. “Alright, I hope you could help us, Mr Holmes.”

John let them outside. As soon as he was inside, Sherlock said, without preamble. “The kid is deeply in trouble.”

John looked at him. “Why is that?”

Sherlock looked at him like he was stupid. “Why write a book cypher? Something is happening at Newton. Think, John?”

“Where should we start?” John asked.

Sherlock opened the bin where the books were kept. “First we need to find the book.”

“There are at least a hundred books in here, Sherlock, How are we going to get what the book is,” John said, a tad bit outrage.

Sherlock looked at him, annoyance in his eyes. “The internet is a good research martial, John, especially for a young kid.”

Sherlock got his laptop from the coffee table, started his research. John watched patiently, as he checked Maximillian’s Facebook account, then his twitter and his Tumblr. Then he tapped John’s arm. “I got it, John, looked up Gracie Cooper’s Beyond the Graveyard.”

John dutifully searched the book. “Sherlock, there’s nothing of that title.”

“Ah..” Sherlock thought. “We need to go the bookstore… I mean rather you.”

“Right…” John knew Sherlock having issues with crowds; especially it is September and kids were going back to school. “I’ll go, I will be back in an hour. Try talking to Mrs Hudson about…”

He heard Sherlock said. “John, for god sakes.”

John left the house and went to local a mom and pop bookstore near Baker Street. He and Sherlock got together over a year ago after the pink lady’s case. It hadn’t been easy. Sherlock’s autism made certain aspects of the relationship hard, like touching; but they worked around the difficulty. John was amazed at how he and Sherlock had to survive not just that they had thrived.

“Sir, may I help you?” A sales associate asked startling him.

“Where can I find Gracie Cooper’s Novel, Beyond the Graveyard.” He asked after he had recovered.

She points him to a rack wherein there were young adult novels. “Thank you,” John said. She gave him a smile. His phone buzzed in his pocket, a text message, he got his phone from his pocket and read the text,

“Where are you?” SH

“Bookstore.”

John smiled, he thought it odd that Sherlock texted like that even with Mycroft. He got the Gracie Cooper book, paid and dart out of the store. He d-toured from the bookstore to the nearby Tesco to buy food.

Again Sherlock texted him. “Where are you?” SH.

Supermarket buying food, Sherlock.

Come home. SH

I am coming home in ten minutes.

John rolled his eyes and paid for his goods; Sherlock was such an insecure mess sometimes. He walked from the supermarket home. He was home in five minutes.

When he returned to the flat, Sherlock was playing, his violin something Bach. He loved listening to Sherlock play. He cleared his throat. “Oh, John, You’re back. Where is the book?”

John handed him the book. “Are you sure that was the book?”

“As sure as I could be based on this is book according to his Facebook, yes,” Sherlock said.

“Okay then.”

Sherlock got the book out of its plastic wrapping. “I’ll be the one to decipher the book; You write.” He started deciphering the code. “page 31, line 11, and 3rd word. HELP.” He continued with his work, until the end.

John read what they had written. “Help me, my maths teacher is touching me down there. He told me would kill you if I told, you guys. I have been in touch with people who were like me, online.”

Sherlock was silent, looking the at the paper. “John, call them, tell the parents I am taking the case. Don’t tell them about the letter.”

John gave a token protest. “Sherlock, no, you need to tell them.”

Sherlock sighed began pacing the room, his thumb on his mouth. “Do you want them to march at the school getting angry, no. because you're going to get themselves killed.”

“Yes, I understand.”

End of Chapter 1

Chapter Text

I know this isn't perfect but i needed to post if anyone wants to bata this. Please help me guys.

The call to the Andreka-Carlson’s home was a Herculean task; John thought gravely, however it couldn’t help he knew. Sherlock was pacing the room thinking of god knows what. He dialled; the mother, Dr Andreka answered.

Andrea answered at the first ring. “Hello?”

“Its Dr Watson, with Sherlock Holmes.”

John could practically hear the gasp at the other end of the line. “Yes, Dr Watson, did you found something?”

John sighed, and glanced at his partner, who was pacing and muttering to himself. “We need to talk, Doctor, about what your son wrote.”

“Did Mr Holmes found anything substantial?” Andreka sounded as if, she knew what was up.

“Yes… But Can we talk in person, Doctor?”John asked because he would rather tell them face to face that, that tell them on the phone.

“We're still working, can you come here?”

“No, we’re going there, where do you work?” John asked Sherlock was now listening to the conversation intently.

“St. Barts, oncology department,” Andreka said.

“Okay, we should be there in forty-five. Bye.” John turned to Sherlock. “Now, get your coat, we’re leaving.” It would seem like he was ordering Sherlock around, however, his partner has a problem with executive functioning.

Sherlock got his coat from the coat’s hanger. “Let’s go,” Sherlock handed the bag of books to John. They walked down the steps to the front door. Sherlock was getting anxious; he kept on checking his watch.

“Sherlock, What’s wrong?” John asked.

“There would be no taxi’s this time of the day.” Sherlock scratched, looking at John angrily.

Right, John thought. It was almost rush hour. Sherlock hated the tube. Hate was not the right word for it, John thought, he just couldn’t. The smell and the sound grated on his nerves like a screeching violin. “Sherlock, What should we do, Love?”

“I don’t know, John, I really don’t,” Sherlock whispered, flicking his fingernails one at a time.

“I have a pack of earplugs at my suitcase upstairs in our room, Do you want me to get it?”

Sherlock was debating, he nodded his head after a moment of thinking about it. John got the earplugs upstairs. When he went down he handed Sherlock the earplugs who wore it. “Okay, Sherlock?”

“Thank you.” He sounded grateful.

They walked to the Baker Street tube station. Sherlock was really agitated but the earplugs would really help. He held Sherlock’s hand.

Inside the train, Sherlock was quietly, rocking a tiny bit. They got down at Farringdon Station. He held his partner for entirety of the ride. They walked from the station to the hospital.

The road the lift up, to the fourth floor, to Andrea's office. they let themselves in after she indicated that they should. Sherlock started talking without preamble, “Why did you leave out Beyond The Graveyard by Gracie Cooper?”

The sat at her office chairs. Andreka began speaking; “I am really sorry, Our son, we needed to send him to boarding school.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked getting angry now. He didn’t like being lied to because of his childhood wherein the philosophy is that children were meant to be seen.

She sighed and sounded apologetic. “Mr Holmes, our younger son has autism; we need to send Maximilian to boarding school so that we could focus on Chase.”

His voice was getting louder by the moment. “So you didn’t care, on what was happening on Maximilian at school.”

“No, Mr Holmes, That’s not what that was.”

“What? He was being molested at school.” Sherlock said, voice tight. He may lack social graces but he couldn’t let a child be targeted.

“What?”

John needed to intervene, giving Andreka the book and the paper. She took it and read.

“Help me, my maths teacher is touching me down there. He told me would kill you if I told you guys. I have been in touch with people who were like me, online.”

She started to cry. “I want to get him out of there, I want my son out.”

Sherlock handed a tissue. “We need to take talked to him.”

“About what?”

“The investigation, the group chat.”

“Okay, Meet us in our home tomorrow; will be fetching him from there.” She said. “And Mr Holmes?”

“Yes…”

“Thank you for your help.”

Sherlock and John left Andreka’s office with a heavy heart. On the way to the tube station, Sherlock said. “I studied at Harrow School and I wondered now, what happens to some of my classmates, I just keep to myself at school.”

“Me too, Love. I wondered about why people needed to go away to school. Sure, it thought you or them to be more independent but you don’t need to go to school.” John said.

“Yes, I was nine years old, Mycroft was eight,” Sherlock said while they were inside the tube station.

John looked at him surprised. Sherlock almost never told him anything; not about his childhood. He knew that Sherlock came from high society, and Sherlock hated it; doing everything to be with the masses.

They entered inside a carriage. They were lucky that it was late enough that the tube was empty, and they had somewhere to sit.

“You need to eat, Sherlock?” He asked exiting the tube station at Baker Street.

“Sure, Angelo’s?” He asked, as held John’s hand in his. They walked from to Angelo’s like that and sat at their usual chair.

Angelo saw them entered. “Sherlock, John!!”

“The usual,” Sherlock said. Angelo left to get their orders.

“So, Sherlock, How old were you when you Mycroft left for school?” John asked, pressing his luck.

“I was three, why?”

John shrugged. “Just asking.”

Angelo served the food. They ate in comfortable silence; to John’s surprise, Sherlock ate all of his meal. They had dessert after the meal.

“So, are you going to say something to Mrs Hudson about your diagnosis?” John asked with a mouth full of tiramisu.

Sherlock sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

“No, I supposed not. You scared her, Sherlock, with the stimming.” Replied John, gravely.

Sherlock sighed again. “You should tell her, You’re the doctor.”

“No,” John insisted. “You’re the one with autism, Sherlock. You need to control the narrative.”

Sherlock scowled. “Mycroft told you.” He reminding John saucily.

“Would you have told me?” John asked.

Sherlock looked at him sadly and very quiet answered, “No. I guess not. ”

After desert, They headed home. “I’ll tell her tonight,” Sherlock said. As they were walking home.

“Okay.”

They were at the front landing to 221 Baker Street. When Sherlock stopped. “Can you come with me?” He said rather shyly.

“I.. of course.” They knock at Mrs Hudson’s door. She opened the door after three knocks.

“Sherlock? John? What’s wrong?” Mrs Hudson asked looking from one to other.

“Nothing’s wrong, Mrs Hudson, can we come in?” John said.

They sat at Mrs Hudson’s sofa; Sherlock cleared her throat. “Mrs Hudson, I have Autism.” He blurted out, looking at John nervously.

Mrs Hudson looked at him dubiously. “Sherlock, what? As in Rainman?"

Sherlock looked at John for assistance. “No, Mrs Hudson, Sherlock has a different type of autism, than RainMan.”

A moment later, Sherlock sighed. “What’s Rainman?” He murmured in John’s ear.

“I’ll tell you later,” John said. “He is a normal adult with some trouble with sensory input, like the sounds and lights.”

Sherlock joined in. “Yes. And what you saw me do earlier is because I was overstimulated.”

“Okay, But, are you going to be fine?”

“Yes, I am or I would be.”

Sherlock stood up, followed by John on his heals. However, Mrs Hudson stood up and hugged John. “I am very happy he has you, John, Thank you.”

They were up the flight of stairs when suddenly Sherlock grab his arm and kissed him passionately. John sighed and kissed back. They were in there the first floor when they stopped; Sherlock led John to their upstairs bedroom. They were quickly undressing each other to their birthday’s suits.

During their afterglow, John said. “I love you and I am very proud of you.”

“I know, I love you too. Don’t you forget that.”

John slept; while Sherlock thought about their current case, until the wee hours of the morning.

End of Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

John woke up to find Sherlock had slept through the night. Normally, his partner was plagued with insomnia; John patted Sherlock on the shoulder to wake him. “Sherlock, you awake?”

Sherlock blinked blurry eyes on John. “Good morning.”

John climbed out of bed. “You want cereal, love?” He asked, patting Sherlock’s hair.

“Its Saturday, pancake day!” John knew Sherlock loved his routine at breakfast at least.

“Yes, but we could to a breakfast place today. We don’t have pancake batter today.”

Sherlock stood up from their bed into the shower. “Are you calling them now?” He asked. “Let’s go shower.”

“Okay,” Said John, following Sherlock into their bathroom. They showered while touching each other. John went down on his knees kissing Sherlock down there. Sherlock shouted his name.

After recovering from the high, John pulled away and started towelling their bodies. “I am going to be calling Andreka.” John said.

“A very good idea, John.”

They both climbed down the stairs down to the flat. They were preparing to leave when a knock on the front door alerted them. “Mycroft,” Sherlock said scowling.

Mycroft entered the flat without hesitating. “Sherlock?” He called and Sherlock doesn’t answer.

It was John who answered. “Yes, Mycroft?”

“I want to talk to My brother,” Mycroft said, rather bored as if John was boring him.

Sherlock had emerged from the lab and scowled when he saw Mycroft. “Brother,” He said acknowledging.

“Sherlock, the party at Mummy and Daddy’s next Saturday.”

Sherlock frowned, not making eye contact. “No, and besides they would just make me feel like shit Because unlike you I’m a disappointment.”

Mycroft didn’t know what to say to him, true then John thought I would be. “Sherlock,” Mycroft looked at John. “I know, but it’s Daddy’s 80th birthday. Convince him, Please, John.” With that Mycroft was slipping down the flat.

“I don’t want to talk about it, please, John.”

John raises his hands in placation. “I won’t.”

They got down the steps, they were trying to hail a cab. Fifteen minutes later, there were no cabbies in the vicinity of Baker Street; Sherlock was getting antsy. “Sherlock, calm down,” John said. “I would be calling Mycroft for a car, okay, Love?”

“No, I have a car, you have a license, I do too.”

“A car? Why didn’t you told me you have a car?” John asked. “Never mind, where is the car?” Looking for the car.

“It’s in the garage,” Sherlock said, pointing toward a big industrial structure to the left.

John looked at him, frowning a bit. “You haven’t told me about the car.”

“No, I haven’t.” Sherlock was annoyed.

“Why not?” John asked.

“Because,” Sherlock said, apprehensively. “I had two seizures two years ago…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” John asked, angry now. However, his phone rang. “We’re not done here.” He told his partner. “Hello?”

“Dr Watson?” Andrea said. “Are you coming? because Maximilian, well is not doing well.”

John looked at Sherlock, squinting in the light. “Yeah… we would be there in twenty minutes.”

They strolled to the garage where Sherlock’s car was. As soon as he saw the car; John whistled lightly. It was a 2005 BMW convertible. “This is nice,” John said. So, you have forgotten this?”

Sherlock looked at him. “Yes, actually, Since I have my license at 16; I love cars. So forgive me for not telling you.”

“Okay,” John said, hugging and kissing him. “Let's go. One more question, you on medication, then?”

“Yes, in the beginning, But I tapered myself from it.”

John had recalled a lot of instances with Sherlock; Sherlock blinking then afterwards, shaking his head. “You. are. a. big. fat. Idiot. Sherlock.” Sherlock looked a little bit hurt at his accusation. “Okay, look at you, you need meds, god.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked, “it won’t give my driving license back, would it?”

John sighed. “You’re having mini seizures, you idiot; I am making sure you take your meds.”

“Okay,” Sherlock said; a bit apologetic.

They climbed into the car without any word. The drive from Baker Street to Chelsea was uneventful; Sherlock loved the ride even if he wasn’t the one driving. They had decided not to go to breakfast because there was no time to eat out.

They found the address, as they were knocking the door. Sherlock started blinking. “Sherlock?” John said. Then Sherlock shook his head. “You know where you are?” He knew what to look for.

“Yes.”

“Sherlock, you have an absence seizure. I want to take you to the clinic.” John said.

Sherlock protested. “You know we can’t, John. Kids are getting rape.”

“Sherlock?”

“No,” Sherlock said after a bit relented. “Let’s make a deal. I would go with you to the hospital after this case.”

John thought about it for a bit; if he won’t let Sherlock work this case then they would fight. However, if he did and Sherlock had a seizure then he would hate that. He nodded.

The Andrea-Carlson lived in a nice flat on the fifteen floors of an apartment building. Sherlock rang the bell. “Hello?”

“Yes, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson?” Andreka was holding a three maybe four-year-old boy in her arms; who was click-clacking with his lips. “Come in?”

The flat was modern; open space kitchen and living room; it was like Mycroft’s flat, in one word, boring. She offered a cup of tea. They accepted. They both sat; Sherlock sat on the love seat and John at the L shape sofa.

Sherlock could hear Andreka’s voice from the other room, then Maximilian came out of the room. “Mr Holmes?”

Sherlock observed the thirteen-year-old. He has dark blue eyes, like Andreka, Carlson’s hair and his nose. “Hi,” Sherlock said. They shook hands. Maximillian looked at Sherlock assessing him.

“Listen, Max,” Sherlock said. “I know this is hard, however, can you tell me what happened, when you’re ready?”

Maximilian looked at Sherlock and then to the hallway. And took a deep breath “My teacher…”

“How did this happened?” Sherlock said in a voice as gentle as ever. John looked up from where he was seated and smiled.

Maximilian sighed. “It started in the middle of maths class; it was three days after school started. Mr Adams was tackling algebraic expression. He sat near my chair and looked at me and smirked at me, and told me he wanted to speak with me in private.”

“About what?” Sherlock asked gently.

Maximilian shrugged. “Schoolwork and he wanted to know about my family.”

Grooming, John thought. It was now in the middle of the academic year; meaning, the abused had been happening for almost five months. He shook his head.

Sherlock looked at Maximillian. “Then what happened?”

Maximillian took a deep breath. “We kept on meeting in his office for the year without any incident.” His face grew darker. “Then one-night last month…” He took a shuttering breath and glanced at the hallway.

“What happened last month?” John asked.

The kid looked like he wanted to cry. “He took me in his office…”

“Did he force you to go to his office?” Sherlock asked in his gentlest voice.

Maximilian looked confounded. “No, I agreed.”

“Then what happened?” John asked.

“He asked me if I was gay.”

“What did you say?” Sherlock prompted.

Maximillian sighed. “I told him I don’t know. He said, well I can help you figure out if you’re gay. He undresses me…” He sounded like he wanted to cry.

Sherlock looked at Maximillian. “Then what happened?”

Max looked towards the rooms and shook his head. “Ah… I told him, I am going to call my parents. If he did what he was thinking. He told me that if I told them, they won’t believe me. I told him they would.”

Sherlock looked at John who was writing what Max was saying. “Good parents.” The detective commented. The kid looked up and smiled.

As soon as he looked down the smile was gone. “He told me he would kill them if I tell.”

“You’d devised a plan to tell them,” Sherlock said a hint of admiration in his words.

“The book cypher, I learned from a show I watch.”

“Where is the copy of Beyond the Graveyard?” Sherlock asked.

“It’s in my room. I’ll get it?”

Sherlock nodded turned to John. “Brave kid.” He told his partner.

“Yeah.”

Maximilian entered the room with a pocketbook in hand. “Here you are.”

Sherlock examined the book with a quick examination and asked. “What is the name of the website you mention on your cypher?”

“Why?” Max asked dubiously.

Sherlock shrugged.

“Hope network for survivors of sexual assault: HopeNetwork.org."

I have one more question for you. “Do you have an estimated number of members?”

Max thought about it. ”Adults maybe a hundred, kid maybe fifty.”

Chapter Text

They left the Andreka-Carlson’s after telling them they would come back. Sherlock insisted on brunch; John agreed. So, now, they were seated at a small cafe just outside Chelsea.

John ordered; he left Sherlock on the table. His partner was tapping the fingers of his left hand on the table while holding his phone in his right checking out the website. John smiled. He thought Sherlock looked like a high ranking CEO.

“Sir?” John was lifted from his thoughts by the barista.

He blinked. “I want a Capochino and espresso for my partner, and two orders of pancakes.”

“Eighteen quid, sir.” John handed him a twenty. He sat back after the server handed him the change.

As soon as he was back; Sherlock announced, “I want to widen our investigation. They were too many children. I think schools knows.”

John’s expression gave him away. A school system that routinely disappoints its elite kids. How thoughtful. “I know, and we should ask Greg.”

“Lestrade?”

John smirked at him. “You erase his name in your mind palace. I meant Greg; our friend from Scotland Yard."

Sherlock didn’t understand the jab. “He wasn’t as important as you.” His face grew darker. “Why would I call him? And mock this case up?”

“Sherlock!” John said warningly. “We need to get the police’s head; you aren’t doing this alone, and besides Greg would help us get a warrant.”

John looked at Sherlock who relented. “Will go see him at his office.”

“Thank you,” John said as the server went and served the food.

They ate in comfortable silence; Sherlock finished all his food. John was giving him a warning glare every time he would put his fork down until the final bite was had.

After the meal they climbed in the car; the drive to the yard was quiet. Sherlock was tapping his fingers of his right hand in the cars handles. John was observing him debating. “Are you alright?” He asked; when the park at they visitor's lot at New Scotland Yard.

Sherlock didn’t miss a beat; he scowled at John. “Never better.” He said sarcastically. They walked the short distance to Gregory Lestrade’s division; Homicide and Sexual Crimes. They found Greg in his office chatting with an older man, the police captain.

Sherlock opened the door; Greg noticed him. The captain left, as Lestrade waved them to sit. “So what can I do for you, gentlemen?” The DI asked.

John looked at Sherlock who shrugged. “We have a case; we need your help with.”

“What?” Greg was incredulous.

“A kid gave us a book cypher,” Sherlock began; not understanding Greg’s facial expression. He handed Greg the cypher.

“Jesus!” Greg exclaimed; looking at them. “Where is this school?”

“Newton School, Chippenham, I am not an idiot, Lestrade,” Sherlock said. “I know it is not MET jurisdiction, but there were many kids that were targeted by teachers.”

“God, Sherlock, you are serious.”

“Yes, Lestrade, I am bloody serious about this.” Sherlock stood and started to pace.

Greg sighed and looked at John. “What do you want me to do?”

“We need a warrant for the Ministry of Education,” Sherlock said.

The incredulity in Lestrade’s face was palpable in the room. “You know I can’t do that, Sherlock. We need to gather more evidence for me to get a warrant.”

Sherlock thought for a moment. “We have evidence, Lestrade. A website; a forum wherein kids gather.”

“How many kids?”

“Maybe 150?” Sherlock handed the phone to Lestrade.

“Yes.” Lestrade gasped; he began pacing the room, too. “Sherlock, we need more evidence; go undercover on this website!! Talk to the kids.”

Sherlock looked at him. “If we found something then…”

Lestrade cut him off. “Yes, Sherlock. You know I want to get these sick bastards, right?”

Even if they hadn’t seen each other eye to eye at somethings; he and Lestrade were on the right side. He nodded his head. Sherlock and John turned their backs to leave, but Lestrade stopped them. “Sherlock, John?” He said.

Sherlock and John turned their backs at Greg. “Yes.”

“You need to pose as victims, Sherlock, You went to Harrow,” Greg said; Sherlock scowled. John knew that this was a part of what they do. Greg continued “You know the type, yes.”

“Yeah…” Sherlock replied or “We could interview those kids.”

Greg thought of it for a moment. “Yes, bring them in.”

After talking with Greg some more, Sherlock and John left Scotland yard.

0o0o0o0o

The boys went back to the flat after driving around London. Sherlock began the search for victims of childhood Sexual abuse in the UK’s finest boarding schools. They found one in Essex. They made an appointment with him on monday morning.

In the meantime, Sherlock and John were at home it was the next afternoon; they sat at their chairs in the sitting room. They were on the sofa drinking tea when Sherlock started blinking.

John rounded at him. “Sherlock?” He was dragging Sherlock out of the room in the stairs.

Sherlock recovered from his seizure; he had noticed that John, and that John wasn’t happy. “What the hell?” Sherlock said indignantly.

John looked at him a tinge of worry mixed with annoyance settled on his face. “Sherlock, You need a refill for your meds.” He said.

“You can’t do that!!” Sherlock said. “John, the side effects hit me hard.”

John looked at him; looked at him this time. “What side effects?”

Sherlock sighed. “Headaches, dizziness,” he admitted; studying at John sheepishly.

If Sherlock was telling him the truth then he would be careful about putting him on Medication. “I Will find you meds that work, Sherlock, Okay?” John said. Sherlock wanted to protest but John halted him. “No arguments, Sherlock!”

His partner looked at him and, “Okay.”

“I would give you a Prescription, okay?” John said, and Sherlock nodded his head. They first got back inside the flat; for John to write him the prescription for Neurontin.

John knew that he had no right to write Sherlock’s prescription; as he was Sherlock’s partner. However, Sherlock hated going to the hospital and seeing a doctor for that matter.

They went to the nearest NVS chemist near Baker Street. The place was busy when they entered; Sherlock sat on the chair near John’s. “Sherlock?” John asked.

Sherlock was getting agitated; the noise was bothering him. “Sherlock? Let’s go outside for a moment, okay?” John got him to his feet. They were number 15 in the cue, and the person that was being called was number 4. Luckily, they were outside before Sherlock started pulling his hair.

“Social anxiety,” Sherlock breathe out. “I can’t go back in there, John. Let’s go to St Barts pharmacy instead.”

John thought about it for a moment. “Okay, Let’s go. We would take the car with us.” Sherlock followed John to the garage.

The short drive from Baker Street to St Barts Hospital was tense. John knew Sherlock hated talking to people at counters, and that he couldn’t stand it.

As soon as they entered the hospital parking lot, John heard Sherlock breathe a sigh of relief; the parking lot was empty. The doctor prayed that the problem was over.

“I wanna see Moly,” Sherlock said.

“You could.”

After getting Sherlock’s meds from the chemist; they went to the pathology lab. Sherlock talked to Molly about particular autopsy results. The look on Sherlock’s face a was a happy one. John smiled as well.

After thirty minutes of talking with his friend, Sherlock looked at John and grimaced. Sherlock was looking as though he would fall. John rounded were he was standing. “Are you alright?” John said.

“Yes, this why I don’t do meds.” Sherlock retorted.

John rolled his eyes. “Good try, Sherlock,” John said half-seriously; he turned to Molly.

“What meds?” She said, curiously.

“Never mind, Molly,” Sherlock said looking at him seriously.

Sherlock and John left Barts. “Let's go out to eat somewhere?” Sherlock said.

“I thought you don’t eat during cases.” True, but Sherlock had changed; in the year since John had first met him. He was now eating and sleeping more regularly. “Sushi?” John asked.

“Yes,” Sherlock said. John got the car keys from his pocket and turned the car door on. They were inside the car in seconds; driving to their favourite sushi palace.

——-

Chapter Text

When John woke up Monday morning Sherlock was awake. He turned to face his lover and said, “Good morning. You didn’t sleep last night.”

“I have a case.” Said Sherlock simply. “I have no time to sleep. I just want to keep you company.” He added the last part with a smile.

John grinned; it still amazed him how Sherlock could change. He kissed Sherlock’s lips and Suddenly they were sucking each other lips, nipples; making out; making love.

When they went back down; Sherlock looked at him. “I love you, but we need to go,” Sherlock said; trying to get out of John’s embrace.

John released him; he and Sherlock to take a bath together. John still worked at St. Barts hospital every weeknight. This week, however, he took a week off.

After the bath they dress into work clothes; Sherlock was wearing a navy suit with a red shirt. John wore jeans and his grey jumper.

They were coming down their room; when Mrs Hudson came bursting with breakfast pastries and two cups of steaming coffee. “Ah, thank you, Mrs Hudson,” said Sherlock; looking at the food with some regret.

John saw the look at reacted first. “No,” He looked at Sherlock with a stern look. “We are eating here, Sherlock.”

“We have to go, John.” Sherlock scuffed, but he went and pick up one of Mrs Hudson’s pastries. John smiled to himself.

They left Mrs Hudson to go take care of the dishes; with her token protest. John and Sherlock left the flat in the car to go to Essex which they would meet with somebody that contacted Sherlock afternoon night.

Apparently, the guy they were talking to knew Sherlock from the fifth form in Harrow. However, he didn’t give his name.

As John made his way to the streets of Essex; Sherlock lay there in the passenger seat asleep. Which brought John a bit of worry, and a smile on his face. Sherlock didn’t sleep; his meds was doing this to his body.

John checked the address on his phone; they had stopped in front of a large brownstone house. He woke Sherlock by shaking his shoulder. His partner woke after a short while. “Sherlock, We’re here.”

They exited the car and knocked on the door. Sherlock looked like he might fall down while he stood. John needed to check if he could change his medication.

The front door opened. Sherlock looked shocked.“Victor?” he said; looking at the man with brown hair and blue eyes. “I didn’t know; I’m sorry,” Sherlock said with genuine remorse.

“Well, no problem, Lock; you didn’t know,” Victor said. “Please do come in. Introduce me to your partner.”

“John, this is Victor, he was my… ex.”

John, of course, was shocked; he shook Victor’s hand. While Victor led them inside his beautiful home. “You can sit wherever you want,” Victor said looking towards them. “I will make you guys a cup of tea.”

“He did well… considering,” Sherlock said.

“Well yeah…” John concurred, looking at Victor’s house. “Lock? Really?” He said, smiling.

“Yes.”

Victor went back to the sitting room; Sherlock and John sat back down and drunk the tea Victor offered. “Victor,” Sherlock said. “How have you been since we last met?”

“You mean since you broke up with me?” Victor said; a tad bit bitter.

“Yes, I mean; We were young. I was fifteen; you were sixteen.” Sherlock said.

“I know; I’m fine.” Victor realized that the time to tell his story. “I was eight when I got to Harrow. Like you, Sherlock, it was a family tradition. In the first week of school, Mr Landon called me into his office…”

Sherlock interrupted Victor.“You mean Mr Jack Landon? he thought maths and physics.”

Victor took a sip of his tea. “Yes, anyway, I didn’t have a father at home; Mum was in the US during this time dealing with business. Mr Landon and I just clicked. A couple of months later, in one of the performances, Mr Landon put his hand on my junk and started stroking it. A boy in six form approached, and gave Landon a glare.”

“Then what happened? did he hurt you again?” Sherlock asked; very quietly.

“The boy most elegantly told Mr Landon to sod off; that he wouldn’t tell the authorities. about what happened to him if Landon didn’t do it to me.” Victor was trembling now.

“Who was this boy?” John asked because they need a lead.

Victor looked at Sherlock and back to John. “Sherlock…” Victor was uncertain of what he would say to his friend. “It’s your brother.” He said very quietly.

Sherlock was very quiet; looking at Victor and John back and forth. He couldn’t speak for a long time. Mycroft, adamant to send him to boarding school. Mycroft being so protective monitoring him from every angle. It all made sense now. He blinked and asked; “Did he tell you what happen?”

Victor, who looked as though, he wanted to vomit nodded his head. “It not be me telling you about this.” He hissed.

“Well,” Sherlock scoffed. “As if he would tell me.”

Victor nodded.

“You are psychologists, right?”

“Yes, as if you didn’t know that.” Victor sighed. “I studied kids who were abused by priest, clergy, and teachers.”

Now, John wanted to ask the question. “And?”

John saw Sherlock blinked; once, twice and three times, and shook his head. He looked at from the corner of his eye; with concern evident in his features. “What?”

“Sherlock, you just have a seizure; did you take your gabapentin?” John said sotto voce. Sherlock shook his head. “Maybe Phenytoin would work?”

Sherlock nodded; he turned to Victor. “What are your findings?”

Victor looked at John and back to Sherlock; but decided to say nothing about the seizures. He answered Sherlock’s question.“The very nature of boarding schools because of its enclosed environment in which teachers can wield tremendous power; Pedophiles were attracted to it. It was made possible in the decades' past, parents were often reluctant to question teachers’ authority.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Sherlock said with a bitter laugh.

“Yes…”

“So, What was the percentage of teachers who abused their Students?” John asked.

Victor thought about it; counting in his head. “Maybe three to five per cent of people.”

“No, shit.” Sherlock said, mortified, “You think the higher-ups knew?”

“Yes… tip… go to the subsection of the Association of independent and Boarding Schools website; all of the teachers' names of every teacher.”

“Oh, god… I need you to testify in court. A kid, his name’s Maximillian, a teacher raped him at Newton School Chippenham.”

“Yes, I’ll do it. If the family would want me.” Victor said.

“Do you think this would end?”

Victor barked out a bitter laugh. “Until all boarding schools are close.”

“So not a chance,” John said echoing Sherlock’s thoughts.

“Yes…” Victor said, chuckling.

“We need to go, Victor,” Sherlock said, standing up with shaky limbs. “Thank you for having us.”

“Do keep in touch, Sherlock. John?” John shook Victor’s hand. Victor stood up and

“See you soon, Victor.” Victor led them to their BMW. When Sherlock and John climbed in; they waved to Victor goodbye.

They were off to Scotland Yard. “You can sleep, love.”

“I can, I know.”

The drive was calm; Sherlock was asleep in the passenger seat. John thought of Mycroft. How could he blame the man to want his younger brother safe, and control his brothers every move? Mycroft was a child, too. This bastards never deserved to be teachers in the first place.

They drove to a McDonald's drive thew for lunch; they ate in the car. “How could I not know about Mycroft?” asked Sherlock rhetorically.

“You were a kid; that have a love-hate relationship with big brother,” John said smiling.

They reached Scotland Yard near two. Sherlock ran towards Lestrade’s office with John in tow.

——-

Chapter Text

——-

As soon as they entered the detective inspector’s office; Greg ran towards them. “Sherlock?” A question in his eyes. “Oh, good, you’re here.”

“I am just here to report my findings on the rapes,” Sherlock said.

The Detective inspector looked at him. “Please halt your investigation.”

Sherlock looked at John, stunned. “No,” Sherlock said looking at Lestrade dead on.

“Why?” John asked the same time as Sherlock’s no.

the DI sighed. “There was a murder in Region’s park..” He looked at Sherlock and back to John.

“No…” Sherlock said.

Greg was at his wits ends. “God, Sherlock; I kept you sane all those years ago. You couldn’t even help me with this?” He shouted, and Donavan entered.

Sherlock in the meantime blinked at Lestrade. John thought that he was having a seizure. He stated in hurt and bewilderment; he went non-verbal Greg and Sally were starring at him. “Sherlock?”

“I am fine, John.” He snarled. “This idiots could solve it, Lestrade.” He said; gesturing to Greg’s and his team.

“Sherlock?” Lestrade said; when Sherlock turned to leave him there. “Okay, I am sorry. Do your case.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said with a sincerity that was both alarming and heartwarming.

“Sherlock? What’s wrong?” However, Sherlock was moving out of the office. Lestrade seized John’s arm in his. “John? Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with him?”

John thought about what he would tell Greg. It wasn’t his place to tell him about how personal the case had become for Sherlock. So, He just shook his head and left the office; leaving the Detective inspector wondering.

He followed Sherlock out of Scotland Yard; he saw him sitting in his car. Sherlock blinked and looked up at him as he entered the vehicle.

“Did Lestrade, ask you why I can’t help him with this case or not?” Sherlock asked; his eyes murderous.

John sighed; Sherlock didn’t trust him on this; Well, that hurts, but he had known Sherlock by now. “Yes, He did, but do you really think I would spill Mycroft’s most guarded secret to Greg?” He said quietly.

Sherlock may be noticed the sad tone in his voice; said. “Sorry.” He said remorsefully. “Let’s go home.”

John drove from Scotland Yard to Baker Street without incident. As soon as they got inside the flat; Sherlock sat down on his chair, and turned on the laptop; began to type the website Victor gave him.

He sat beside Sherlock and began his research. The query he typed on Mr Jack Landon. He was but he wasn’t surprised that Landon still teaches at a private day school outside of the borough. “Hell no,” John exclaimed.

“What?” Sherlock asked; looking perplexed. He moved his head to peer at John’s laptop. “Landon is still teaching.”

Sherlock sighed a question. “Where?” It was good that Mycroft was out of the country and was not coming back until Friday.

“At a London Day School.”

“This guy, Mr Andersen? Sherlock?” His hand was shaking.

He saw Sherlock type Kingsley Andersen on the Facebook search bar. “Dammit,’ Sherlock hissed looking at John with anger in his eyes. “He is still working in Yorkshire.”

Sherlock got another of his computer from under the cofee table. He turned the thing on and opened the Numbers app. He typed Name in one column; working in another and then the third is where.

John typed K. Andersen the first column and in the second he types a check and in the third line was Yorkshire Day School.

The next person they had checked is a man by the name of A. Atkins. Sherlock wrote the person’s name on his second computer after he found Mr Atkins on Facebook. He was still teaching at a special education centre in London.

“God,” Sherlock said. “How could they let him at a school for special needs kids.”

John lent towards him and hugged him tightly. “I know.”

The two men read the name and type them on the spreadsheet. John would be asked him; Sherlock questions about being in a boarding school; how it was like for him.

At one point, Sherlock stood up to get some tea; he didn’t make one for John. “Where’s my tea, Sherlock?” John asked looking at Sherlock expectedly. His partner looked lost; as if he did something wrong.

“You didn’t ask me,” Sherlock said; almost sounding crestfallen.

John nearly rolled his eyes but remembered that he didn’t ask Sherlock explicitly for tea. He shouldn’t be surprised really that his partner being on the autism spectrum; didn’t know how to ask him: Hey, John, You like tea? Sherlock didn’t get that. John instead stood up and got his own cuppa.

After the tea incident, they went back to work.

In the website that Victor gave them; there were hundreds of complaints by young people. Telling the website, how they were abused by teachers. The sad thing was; they both knew that people were still suffering at the hands of those bastards.

In the course of the afternoon, Sherlock had found four more from his alma matter. It bugged him. “I want to interview someone from Harrow, tomorrow.”

John nodded; he stood up and started to the kitchen. “I’ll make fish and chips and you are going to eat them, Sherlock.”

“No, I am on a case.”

“I don’t care,” John said very sternly.

Mrs Hudson came up during the day; bringing them banana bread. Sherlock ate the thing. “Sherlock, you are going to develop diabetes,” John commented at one point.

A couple of hours later, they were both wearing their pyjama’s. They were working on the final few ‘teachers’ when there was a knock on the front door. Sherlock growled. “It’s Lestrade.”

John stood up and went downstairs. “Evening,” John said; looking at Greg. “Sherlock was still working on rape cases.”

“Cases?” Greg sounded flummox.

“Yes, as if you didn’t know,” John said.

Sherlock was in the doorway. “Lestrade, How do I owe the pleasure of?”

Greg sighed. “We need you to look at this case file.”

Sherlock seemed to think about it. “Ah.. come in. We would wake Mrs Hudson, down here.” John knew this was a lie; Sherlock was tired of the rape cases. He, himself was sick of it, too.

Lestrade and Sherlock sat in the lounge, while John made them tea. John saw Sherlock checked his wristwatch impatiently. “Sherlock, we need you; seventeen-year-old girl…”

“It was her boyfriend; why do I need to work with people who are dumb,” Sherlock said. “Who’s the case is this, detective inspector? It’s so elementary. The sarcasm bled from his latter statement.

“What?” Greg asked, and if he was hurt by Sherlock’s statement he didn’t show it.

“You're really didn’t figure that out?” Sherlock asked quietly.

“Yes, well, I am not as smart as you,” Lestrade said; looking at Sherlock with admiration. “How did you figure out?”

Sherlock sighed, “It was the boyfriend.” He looked at the file with a dramatic intake of breath. “Look at this, Lestrade,” Sherlock pointed at girl’s neck. “That was a young man’s chain. They fought about something. Now, shoo.” Sherlock stood up leading Lestrade out with any word.

John cleared the coffee table of the cups. A few minutes later, Sherlock reappeared in the sitting area. “Where are we?” John asked.

“Mr Hank Talbot?”

“In 1999, Mr Talbot was in Eton. He was bounced from school to school.” John said. “Now, he was just retired.”

“I want to talk to him,” Sherlock announced.

“Why?” John asked sounding surprised.

“I want to ask him if he enjoyed, it having sex with minors,” Sherlock said looking at his screen. “By the way, we are at eighty-seven. We have fifteen more accused.”

“Jonas Victoria, has the most historic abuse accusations with thirty,” Sherlock said. “He worked at Bedford form 1965-1993; he is dead now. there was that. How many are the active ones?”

“One hundred and three,” John said, sadly.

“I have a printer in the lab,” Sherlock said walking towards his lab to print it. “John lets go to bed after I print this.”

“Alright.”

——

Chapter Text

——

The next morning John woke up to Sherlock sleeping in their bed. John was burying his head in Sherlock’s curls. “Sherlock, are you awake?” Sherlock was still snoring. He just laid there while stroking Sherlock’s hair.

John sat that way for an hour while Sherlock slept; thinking about of all people Mycroft Holmes. He had pity for his sort of brother in law. If Trevor would have believed; Mycroft was eight years old when the abuse first started. His family was in the states when this was happening?

John didn’t understand the upper class who was willing to put their child away for boarding school. What was the point of giving birth if you would just leave the child at boarding school?

After thirty minutes of watching him sleep; Sherlock woke up. He smiled. “Good Morning, Sleepyhead,” John said; smiling at Sherlock lovingly.

Sherlock smiled a sleepy smile and said. “Good Morning, John, What time is it?”

John looked at the wall clock. “Eight Thirty. We have an appointment with a Dr Callahan at eleven at Harrow.”

Sherlock rubbed his face with his hand. “I am going back to bed.” He said. “Wake me up in an hour.”

John frowned; looking a Sherlock worriedly. “Sherlock, Are you getting sick?” John touched Sherlock’s forehead.

Sherlock sighed, frowned. “I am not ill.”

“Okay, okay,” John said in placation. “I’ll wake you up in an hour.” He gave Sherlock a kiss in the forehead; stood up and went downstairs to eat breakfast.

He worked on this case blog entry until Mrs Hudson entered with breakfast pastries. He checked the time; it was almost an hour. He needed to wake Sherlock. He went upstairs. “Sherlock?” He turned on the lights. He felt his forehead; it was warm. Sherlock ‘I am not ill’ Holmes had succumbed to a bug.” He said, chuckling. “I told you so.”

They had to cancel their meeting at Harrow today. John called Callahan, Callahan wasn’t happy, but Sherlock looked awful, and there was no way that John would let him interview the school.

After the call, John placed Sherlock’s computer in the study table and watch a show; checking on Sherlock seizure, which he had three that day.

He sat like that the two days Sherlock was ill. He made Sherlock eats and drinks Gatorade every two hours. When he’d notify Mrs Hudson; the elderly woman cooed and said. “I would bring you, boys, food, just stay in bed. “

By the next afternoon, Sherlock got over the bug. He wasn’t the listless, sick man anymore. John was happy that his partner was getting better.

*_*_*

Thursday morning, Sherlock was totally better; they decided to go to Harrow. So they left the flat at ten and by eleven they were inside the office waiting for Callahan to come in.

Sherlock did still have the sniffles, and would one too many seizures; other than that he was fine. Today, he and Sherlock were interviewing, Dr Aaron Callahan, the Director of Student Affairs. He is also one of Sherlock’s mentors.

“Sherlock Holmes?” Callahan said; looking at him strangely. “Look at you, now, you finished your PhD in chemistry and the only consulting detective in the world; wow, I told you; you could make life worth living.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Sherlock said; he stood up and shook the man’s hand.

“You’re welcome.”

“Dr John Watson, my partner.” Sherlock introduced; the two men shake hands. “John, this is Dr Callahan, my mentor.”

They all sat down. “I am a big fan of the blog, Dr Watson,” Callahan said. “Tea, you like, boys.” The younger men nodded their ascent. “He called to his assistant.

The tea was drunk in companionable silence; Sherlock was itching to ask about Mr Landon John knew but refrained.

After they consume the tea; Sherlock looked at Callahan and cleared his throat. “Can you tell us, what happened with Mr Landon?”

Callahan’s demeanour changed. “What do you want to know, Sherlock?” He said; as though there were something lodge in his throat.

John answered him as gently as possible.”Dr Victor Trevor one of your alumnus here at Harrow told us about what happened when Mr Landon…”

Callahan cut John off. “I am well aware of the accusation against Mr Landon. However, Landon had left the school ten years ago; well before I took over.”

“So,” Sherlock stood up. “You know about the accusation of childhood sexual abuse. Because if you genuinely did not know that Victor or my brother Mycroft were abused by Landon, then it would be in the school's bad graces to have us here.” He’d paced back and forth.

“No, I invited you here, because you were one of my best students.”

Sherlock halted his frantic pacing, glared at Callahan. “You are going to tell me what you know about the child abuse accusation; I know you were a board member of the Independent Boarding Schools Congress.”

Callahan sighed. “Sherlock, would you please take a seat?” Sherlock sat down. Callahan was considering what to tell Sherlock, settling with. “I know he abused Victor because Mycroft told me.”

`The room’s quiet was palpable. No one dared to speak a word. After a minute, John said, “How did Mycroft Holmes tell you?”

Callahan shrugged. “He reported that there was an incident with Landon and a.. boy.” Callahan closed his eyes, “that he saw Landon touching Victor on his private area.”

Sherlock blinked three times and shook his head. John was alert giving Sherlock a warning look. When Sherlock recovered; he asked, “What did you tell Mycroft?”

“I told him that he needed to mine his own business; in that fashion,” Callahan whispered.

“Caring wasn’t an advantage,” Sherlock said to himself. John knew those words came from Mycroft; now he knew where that thought came from. Mycroft cared for Victor and nothing happened.

Sherlock looked at his former teacher. “Victor and his attorney, they are planning to sue the IBSC. If I could ask Mycroft to join them; I promise you; I am bringing this organization down. Then Sherlock walked out.

John caught up with him after he bid a hasty goodbye to Callahan. As soon as they were outside the car; John asked, “Sherlock, What was that about?”

“What?” He said irritably.

“Are you angry, Sherlock?” John asked. Sherlock laughed an angry bark; in which after he sobered. He lit a smoke; John caught the cigarette. “Why, Sherlock? tell me, please.”

After a long silence, Sherlock spoke. “John, Are you freaking kidding me?” He huffed indignantly and said. “, He knew… They actually… knew, John.” He was shouting now. “It could have been me. Hell, it could have been you, too. We must get them. And what were you doing?” John wanted to answer, Sherlock cut him off. “You were making friends with that man, God, John. A man who knew that My brother was being raped.”

“Are you done?” John said, quietly.

“Yes..”

They climbed in the car and was silent for the drive to Baker Street. Sherlock looked at him at one point. “I wasn’t a target, because Mycroft warned them.” He said that quietly. “I am just…”

John smiled at him. “Sherlock, I know that you are grateful for Mycroft. I understand him more now.”

“Yes, the funny thing is,” He laughed, looking at the scene outside. “I didn’t appreciate him. I didn’t have to, but what if…” Sherlock trailed off.

They parked the car in the garage. They walked to Tesco Metro to buy some essentials.

As they were walking home from Tesco’s, Sherlock said; Thank you, you’ve been a great help with this case.”

John nodded.

As soon as they were inside the building, Sherlock was kissing him. John who can’t say no to Sherlock kissed him back. They were kissing while Mrs Hudson was tidying up their flat. “Oi, Boys, get a room.” She was laughing when she said it.

——

Chapter Text

The next morning, Sherlock and John decided to go grocery shopping. They needed to get milk, tea and general goods. So, John woke Sherlock at seven-thirty. They had a meeting with Mycroft today at three; Mycroft would try to convince Sherlock to go to the family mansion tomorrow.

At this hour of the morning, Sherlock was usually sleeping, however, they needed to get going. “Sherlock, love, you awake?” John said, quietly patting Sherlock’s arm.

Sherlock grunted and fell back asleep. John smiled, Sherlock was such a night owl. “Sherlock, You need to wake up.” He said, shaking Sherlock on the shoulder.

Sherlock was not having it. “John, I just fell asleep.”

John sighed. “Sherlock, for god sake. I don’t care, because we have plans.” He moved the blanket off of Sherlock’s body. Sherlock groaned.

“I am not going to Dad’s birthday, besides I am not welcome,” Sherlock said it matter of factly; as if he was really sure. John pats him reassuringly.

Sherlock looked lost; John wanted to hug him and tell him how he was proud of him. He knew it wasn’t welcomed in the best of days much more on this. Sherlock hated being touch without warning; instead, “I know… However, you want to talk to Mycroft, right?”

Sherlock sighed, and rub his eyes, considering. “I want to talk to him, yes; However, John. I don’t want…” he stopped; looked at John, “to say the wrong word.”

John considered, looking at Sherlock, really looking at him. Sherlock’s eyes were the love he had for his elder brother, shining through. Now, he kissed Sherlock. “I have to go to work if we aren’t seeing Mycroft.” John worked MWF at Barts; if the schedule allows.

John stood up to the master bath and took a piss and then he took a bath and went down to the main flat. He needed Sherlock’s okay that he would be fine with the food. He made breakfast for Sherlock and himself.

“Pancake?” John asked; when Sherlock went downstairs in his dressing gown.

He nodded. John cooked the pancake, while Sherlock read the newspaper. “You should publish this story on one of the bigger blog sites or even in the London Times, John.”

John thought about it while he plated their pancake; after a while, he said, “Your right, I want to do that.”

Sherlock smiled and hugged John from behind. John was thinking; how wrong those people who claimed that Autistic people had problems with showing emotions, they got it so wrong. John leant in; he loved Sherlock so close. His partner may have difficulty with verbalizing his feelings but he has no qualms showing it to John. “I love you too, Sherlock.”

They disentangled after awhile. John walked to Sherlock and kissed him goodbye for now. “See you by five, John.” He smiled and walked to the train station.

***

Sherlock sat at home, with Mrs Hudson on his hills on the state of their flat. He was bored. The rape case admittedly was dull; after they had analyzed the cypher, and then how many of the teachers were paedophiles; the case is nothing of interest for him. Except for the knowledge he gleaned about his older brother; that was illuminating.

At about four in the afternoon, while he was playing the violin; a black Mercedes arrived in front of 221. Sherlock groaned internally, he heard Mycroft entering the house. “Good Afternoon, Sherlock!” Mycroft said; scarily sweet.

“What?” He looked at Mycroft; challenging in him. “I know why you’re here? You want me to go to Dad’s party tomorrow.” He was tapping his fingers with his hand. “I am not going, Mycroft.”

Mycroft stood up and advance towards Sherlock’s face. “You are going. Sherlock.”

“Is he dying?” Sherlock asked incredulously but there was a tad bit nervousness in his tone of voice.

“What?! What do you mean? Is he dying? Did you just imply that you would just come to our parents if they were dying? Sherlock?” Mycroft replied; angry now.

Sherlock needed to use his ace card now. He was feeling guilty about the whole scenario; however, needs must. “What happens to you at school?” He asked quietly. Mycroft paled; he noticed with grim satisfaction.

“I don’t know, what you’re talking about, Sherlock,” Mycroft said; but Sherlock knew he was lying.

“I know that you and Landon had been intimate,” Sherlock said, snakily; he saw as Mycroft face darken.

Mycroft blinked; once, twice. “How did you know?” He asked.

Sherlock saw not the MI6 director, not the summa cum laude of Oxford or the pompous arse. He saw a man who kept a secret from his family for so long. He went to hug his brother. “Mycroft, I am sorry.”

Mycroft flinched. “How did you know? Sherlock?” Mycroft asked.

After about a minute, Sherlock disentangled and sat on the couch. Taking a deep breath, he explained. “We were investigating a case, a mother and father brought a cypher to our notice. When we decode the cypher, it became clear that the kid was being molested by a teacher.” Sherlock said quietly.

“How did you know?” His brother repeated.

Sherlock groaned in anger. “Then I realized that there were kids that were being raped by their teachers.” Sherlock stood up and began to pace the living room. “There was a website wherein young people talked about being molested by teachers at boarding schools.”

He stopped then and took a deep breath. “John and I went to see a friend.”

“Who?” Mycroft asked; knowing the answer already. “Victor Trevor?”

Sherlock nodded, and explain. “I met with Victor on Monday. He told me you saved him, Mycroft? Is this true?”

Mycroft nodded. “I told Landon that if he hurt Victor or you, I would let the school board now.”

Sherlock glanced at the time, it was four-thirty. John would be back by five “Mycroft, you want a cuppa.” Sherlock asked walking towards the kitchen to make tea.

Mycroft shook his head. “Sherlock, I would be l was leaving.” Mycroft stood up and at the out of the flat. “I won’t ask you to come tomorrow but if you want then it would be good.” With that Mycroft left the flat.

******

John had a long day at St. Barts; he just wanted to have a quiet night with at home with Sherlock. He was walking home when Mycroft’s car stopped him. “Get in,” Mycroft said opening the window.

John got inside the car. “What?” He said irritably.

“John, I need you to talked to my brother about attending our father’s birthday.”

John looked up from his phone; he laughed hollowly. “Mycroft, I am not your brother’s minder, I am his partner.”

Mycroft looked at John. “Needs must,” he said.

“I am not in the business of telling my boyfriend who was, by the way, a consenting adult to come to a party he doesn’t want to go to.” John opened the door. However, Mycroft looked at John at that moment realization dawned on John's eyes. “So, he went to Baker Street then? You and Sherlock talked then?” Mycroft nodded.

John soften. “I am not into telling him to go do somethings, Mycroft. Sorry. Would you let me down, please.”

“Adam,” Mycroft told his driver. “Let Dr Watson down.”

The driver let John down at the house; before he entered the house, John said; “Mycroft, I would talk to Sherlock"

He met Sherlock upstairs.

———

Chapter Text

Sunday morning, Sherlock and John woke up from a deep, satisfactory sleep. They didn’t go to Sherlock’s family’s party. However, Sherlock called his father and told him a happy birthday.

John woke up first, He dressed in his usual jumper and jeans, and came down to his computer. He would be writing a news article about the Boarding Schools. He needed to call Dr Andreka today.

John turned on his computer, fired up the word document, and begin typing his article. He loved writing. In fact, by secondary school, he was in his journalism club. Therefore it wasn’t hard for him to write an article, however, it was hard for him to write this specific topic.

John turned Sherlock’s laptop on. Some of the information was on his computer, like the spreadsheet and Victor’s Email Address. He typed an email to Victor.

To: [email protected].
CC: [email protected]
From: [email protected]

Dr Trevor,

Good Morning, Its Dr John Watson, Sherlock’s partner, I just want to tell you that I would be writing an article for one of our magazines (I don’t know where yet.) I need data for the article.

John H. Watson, MD

John got up and made himself a cup of coffee. While the coffee was brewing; he checked his mail. There was an Email form Victor.

To: [email protected]
cc: [email protected]
From: [email protected]

Hi, John

I hope you and Sherlock are doing well. I sent you three different files, it was in PDF format. Thank you for doing this.

Victor Trevor, MD, PhD

John checked the files. The first file was a transcript, an interview with a man; the man was a teacher who abused close to twenty-five kids. It was fascinating in a morbid way that these people went to great lengths to justify that what they were doing was right. He closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, Sherlock was there; in his blue dressing gown and t-shirt and sweat pants.

“John? Are you alright?” Sherlock said; sitting down. After a moment he noticed what John was reading. “That from Victor?”

“Yes,” John muttered. “You want to eat?” Sherlock looked at him, and shook his head. “coffee?” Sherlock nodded his head; he got his coffee from the kraft and brought to Sherlock. Sherlock tasted it.

“Thanks…”

John smiled and got back to his writing. For the rest of the day, the two-man stayed that way.

***

One week later, John was on the phone with The Guardian’s Editor. While Sherlock was experimenting in the kitchen table today. they were working on a homicide. He had submitted a draft of his article written with Victor and Sherlock’s help.

“Is it okay that we break it down in three parts?” The editor asked.

John nodded; he didn’t remember that he didn’t face to face with the man. “Yes,” He said to the phone. “We could do that…” John wrote a Ten Thousand word article.

“I’ll email you where to cut, John.” The editor said; John could hear the door opened the other end. “I gotta go, John.”

“Okay,” He hung up and sat down.

Sherlock was standing in front of him. He gave John a hug form behind kissing his face with such love and adoration that John was moaning. They moved to the couch.

After they had recovered from this bout of mind-blowing sex; Sherlock said. “I need to see Lestrade today.”

“Huh,” John asked. “What time are we going?”

“Maybe at three-thirty or four.” It was one in the afternoon now and they hadn’t eaten lunch. John nudged Sherlock to the kitchen to eat. He loved how Sherlock loves his cooking and would be asked for seconds.

“Okay, will see him, love you, Sherlock.” He said, smiling slightly.

***

It had been a month since the call with the editor. The relationship with the Holmes brothers was almost great. One day, Mycroft invited them to his Soho house. The brother’s talked about everything and nothing, all through the night.

Sherlock and John were sitting on their seats at home after a very successful case with the yarders; a five-year-old cold case just resurfaced a week ago. They were sipping tea; when Mycroft entered 221. Sherlock groaned. “God, the insufferable git.” He said, standing up.

“Oh, wow,” Mycroft said; giving John and Sherlock a once over.

“Why are you here, Mycroft?”

“I read John’s article on the Guardian, Sherlock and I hope the police would get them,” Mycroft said. He was holding up a tablet for them to read. “Boarding Schools, A Safe Haven for Paedophiles.”

….As a kid, my partner, Sherlock Holmes boarded to school; aided by his parents. He saw so much, how young children were physically abused by headmasters for a ridiculous reason. But even he was shocked by how rampant the practice of sexual assault in our nation’s boardings schools is.

A case was brought to us, by a boy. A boy who was studying at Newton School in Chippenham. The boy’s parents came to us with a book cypher; Sherlock and I got to work it. The realization came after we were pretty devastated.

We immediately interviewed the young man; he told us about this website. We checked it out. Sherlock was shocked to see kids and adults….

“They would! I promise.” He said.

Mycroft went to the kitchen, pouring a cup of tea. And Mycroft said. “I would be releasing a statement today about my experience with Landon.”

Sherlock looked shocked into Mycroft eyes. “Ah, Okay…” He went to the kitchen and squeezed Mycroft’s upperarm. “Are you ready for the bad publicity of this, Mycroft?"

“Yes, I am.”

THE END