Chapter Text
Julian Lestrade kissed his fiancée one last time as she slipped a chain over her head, her engagement ring hanging from it, “Wish you’d actually wear this thing. It’s going to cost me my paycheck for months.”
Twenty-six year old Emma Holmes rolled her eyes, “Julian, baby, I love it, and I love you, but my dads have been gone on a case since before you proposed. Telling them that we’ve gotten engaged over the phone would not end well. Papa would be furious, and Mum can’t keep a secret like that from anyone, so we’re going to have to wait. Two more days, and then this bad boy can start hanging out on my finger, promise.”
Julian sighed heavily, but smiled at her, green eyes bright, “I love it when you just bombard me with logic. There’s something creepy sexy about that.”
“You’re weird.” Emma quipped back, kissing him on the cheek as she answered her phone. Julian played with her hair while she listened to her mother talk. “He what?” Emma asked, aghast at what she was pretty sure her mother had just said.
“Hamish punched a boy at school today. If his grades weren’t so good, they’d’ve kicked him out of school. As it is, the principal is keeping all the boys until someone comes to pick them up and talk about the incident.” Kate growled over the phone, “Would you go be with him? I’m on my way, but one of my waitresses quit today, so I’m waiting on Jeanine to show up before I can leave. I’ve called your fathers, but they won’t be able to catch an earlier flight home for another hour.”
Emma sighed, walking towards their desks impatiently, “Yeah, I’ll go run interference. Just how hard could my baby brother hit anyone anyway?”
Kate echoed her daughter’s sigh, “I’m not sure the boy was conscious when the campus police got there. Just please, Emma, don’t hassle him.”
Emma laughed, “Oh, I won’t, trust me. But I am curious why Haim would hit someone.”
“Don’t you dare interrogate him, Emma Olivia Holmes. In this, you’re his big sister, not a detective.” Kate hissed.
“Relax, Mum. I’ve got him, promise.” Emma said, hanging up the phone.
Julian was staring at her from his desk, echoing her incredulous expression. “Let me get this straight, Hamish hit someone.”
Emma giggled, kissing him as she walked past, hand trailing against the stubble on his cheek, “Apparently. And sit up straight before your chair tips over.”
He laughed, leaning his chair back farther so he could watch his fiancée as she walked away. The chair stayed for three seconds before the wheels popped out from under it, leaving Julian sprawled out on the floor.
His father glared, “Really, Julian. Thought you’d’ve learned not to contradict a Holmes.”
Julian rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah, but it’s a whole lot less amusing for all involved. Don’t you agree?”
Greg glared, “You’re a fool.”
“Ah, but I’m a fool in love.” Julian quipped, getting to his feet and righting his felled chair.
“Emphasis on fool.” Greg grumbled, tossing a file on his son’s desk. Since he’d retired from field work he was always drowning in paperwork. Fortunately, his son and Emma were hard workers, so it was always easy to get one of them on a case. He could see how he’d probably upset his boss while he’d been in the field, “While she’s taking care of that, go run down this lead and make yourself useful.”
“You got it, Dad.” Julian said, scooping up the file and heading out the door.
Greg frowned, “Kids these days.”
Downstairs Emma was grabbing a bottle of water out of the vending machine when Julian rushed past, “Running down a lead, don’t leave for the gym without me.”
“Might have to, I’ve got to take the juvenile offender home at some point.” Emma said, walking outside with him, “I’ll text you.”
“You got it!” Julian yelled, running to his car.
Emma sighed. Anything Julian did, he did whole heartedly and with as much enthusiasm as possible, just one of the many things she loved about him.
At the school, Hamish was sitting outside the headmaster’s office. Emma kicked at a leg of his chair with the toe of her shoe, “So, Haim, what have you been up to today?”
“Sod off, Emma!” The seventeen year old boy snapped, pulling his knees to his chest.
“Woah, cool it, Hamish. I’m on your side.” Emma said, frowning at his unusual attitude as she looked him over. His bottom lip was busted, his knuckles bloody and bruised, and the hoodie he had on had seen better days, all consistent with a fight.
“Then can you get them to take the handcuffs off?” He begged, starting to breathe heavily, looking close to tears.
Emma didn’t like the expression on her baby brother, “DI Emma Holmes, can we take the cuffs off? He’s not going anywhere.”
“Alright.” One of the campus cops said, un-cuffing Hamish with great reluctance.
Hamish threw himself at his sister, clutching the leather jacket she always wore. Emma awkwardly put her arms around his shoulder, very aware of where his hands were in proximity to her gun. She’d never seen her brother like this, and very few of the scenarios rushing through her head ended well. “Haim, what’s wrong?” She asked, finally finding her voice.
“I want to go home.” He muttered into her shoulder, his chest heaving as he staved off some sort of panic attack.
Emma rubbed his back in a manner she’d seen her mother do to him his whole life. It usually calmed him down, but it seemed Emma didn’t have the right touch. He started shivering, and when one of the campus cops reached out to urge him to sit, Hamish let loose a cry of absolute terror, burrowing closer into his sister, sobbing. “Don’t touch me!”
“Hey, let him go!” Emma barked, brushing the man’s hand off of her brother’s arm. She brushed his brown hair out of his face, all humor and teasing gone from her head. “Haim, what’s happened? Talk to me.”
He shook his head, trembling, tears mixing with the blood on his face as he pulled her close again. “I want to go home.”
Emma sighed, “Haim, you can’t go home. We’ve got to wait on Mum to get here to talk to the headmaster. I’m the only reason you’re not still in handcuffs. Let’s get you some water and a quiet room, okay?”
He gave no response.
She held onto him until they reached an empty conference room one of the campus cops indicated to, “I’ll be right back, okay?” As soon as she closed the door behind her, she spun on the two that had handcuffed him, “What the bloody hell happened?”
Both men stuttered, but the younger one spluttered, “He and some kid got in a fight.”
“Do you know what the fight was about?” Emma asked, glaring at the both of them.
Again, the younger one spoke, “N-not really. Although by the time we got there, some of the crowd was screaming about a faggot being around.”
Emma froze for an instant. Faggot? Hamish? Gay? It didn’t make sense to the sisterly part of her, but to the cold logical part, it fit. He was seventeen, a senior in high school, but he’d never once brought a girl home. Sure, he’d talked about a few, but she’d never seen him with one. It was entirely possible that he’d just not come out yet. “Let me know when that boy and his people get done with the headmaster. I will know what happened.” She snatched up her bottle of water and went back to Hamish.
He’d curled himself into a ball in the far corner of the room, leaning heavily on the wall. He did look up when she entered though, face tear stained, “I don’t want anyone to know, Emma. Can you not tell Mum I’m here?”
Emma knelt next to him with the water, “She called me after the headmaster called her.”
He pressed his eyes closed, tapping the back of his head against the wall, “I just want to forget today ever happened.”
“Haim, will you tell me?” Emma asked softly, again channeling her mother.
He pressed his face into his knees, shifting uncomfortably, “I don’t want to.”
Emma wished she could just reach into his brain, but she couldn’t, “You’re going to have to tell somebody. Wouldn’t you rather it be me?”
Hamish scoffed into the sleeves of his hoodie, “No.” The silence stretched for a few minutes, “I’ll tell Julian.”
Emma frowned in confusion, but she knew better than to contradict a possible victim. “Okay, I’ll go find him.” She left the room and called her fiancée, who was just as confused by Hamish’s request as she was, but agreed to abandon his investigation and talk to the boy.
Julian was there in ten minutes, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her arms, “Don’t worry, Em. I’ve got him.”
Her mother arrived while Julian was still in the room with Hamish. The other boy was still in with the headmaster, “Where’s Hamish? Emma, why aren’t you with him?”
Emma grabbed her mother, stilling her, “He didn’t want to talk to me, he’s with Julian.”
Kate calmed slightly, “Your fathers will be here within the hour. Mycroft got a plane.”
“Good old Uncle Mycroft.” Emma drawled, wringing her hands.
Kate forced a laugh, “Don’t let him hear you say that, he’ll have a heart attack.”
Julian returned with a look that made Emma’s heart sink. “Julian, what happened?”
His hazel eyes flicked to her mother, “It’s uh...not good. I’ve got to take him to St. Barts.”
“What? There’s hardly a scratch on him!” Emma protested.
Julian nodded, “Not that you can see. He’s missing his shirt, and his pants. Uh...” He flicked his eyes back to Kate, face contorted in sympathy and grief, “I’m sorry. I can’t.” He dodged back into the room and came out with Hamish, who refused to look at his sister or mother.
Julian hovered in front of Emma for an instant, whispering, “You need to arrest that other boy for sexual assault, get him to turn the others in.”
Emma watched the stilted way Hamish walked, ignoring her mother’s protests as she held her back, “Mum, enough.” She took a steadying breath, “They sodomized him.”
“What?” Kate whispered in disbelief.
“Shirt gone, no underwear, busted lip, the way he reacted to the patrolman touching him, the way he’s walking. There’s really no other conclusion.” Emma said coldly. “We should go to the hospital. I’ll text Da.”
Her message to her father was brief. He’d know how to tell her Papa. She didn’t though. Her mother was already catatonic over the news. They took Emma’s car to the hospital, taking advantage of the attached sirens as Emma called in favors for someone to be there to arrest and interrogate the other boy.
Sherlock and John beat them to the hospital. Emma stood beside her father while Kate threw herself at John. “Who were these boys?” Sherlock asked thickly.
Emma shook her head, “Julian might know.” She sighed, “Da, you can’t murder them.”
He arched an eyebrow at his ever astute daughter, “Who said anything about murder. I’d simply like to arrange for specialized imprisonment.”
“No sending them to Aunt Irene either.” Emma admonished, “I’m a Detective Inspector, and I’d be obligated to rescue them. Don’t force me to put forth the effort.”
“This is why I wanted you to be a Consulting Detective. Much less obligation.” He spat the last word.
Emma rested her head against his shoulder, eyes fixed on her mother and Papa. “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”
Sherlock hated the way she spoke those words, like the weak sniveling child she’d never been. This was one time when he agreed with Mycroft. Sometimes, caring was not an advantage. “His age will assist any physical recovery, and his abnormal intelligence should help him adjust back to life more quickly than the average victim.” That was all he could say to her really, and he just hoped his assertions were accurate.
“Well, if you do do anything, don’t tell me about it.” Emma tagged on.
“Deal.” Sherlock said, tapping two fingers against the back of her hand.
They went to the others when a female doctor approached, “Mr. And Mrs. Watson?”
“That’s us.” John said, standing, Kate’s hand clutched in his.
The doctor eyed Emma and Sherlock, but settled when Emma took John’s free hand, “Well, the DI that brought your son in was correct. Hamish was assaulted. Physically, he should recover in a few days. I think he should talk to a therapist though, he’s showing classic signs of Rape Trauma Syndrome.” Her eyes flitted between Sherlock and John, “Except for the DI that brought him in, Hamish has not tolerated any male presences. I’m going to suggest that you two keep your distance for a little while. Let him come to you.” She held a hand out to Kate, “Mrs. Watson, would you like to come see him? He’s been asking after you and his sister.”
“That’d be me.” Emma said, steadying Kate as she lunged to her feet, “Careful, Mum.”
John grabbed Emma’s wrist as they started away, staring his daughter down, “Make sure he knows that this changes nothing in this family. He needs to understand that.”
“Got it, Papa.” Emma said, letting him pull her into his arms and kiss her cheek.
“We’re here if he wants us.” Sherlock added as Emma rushed to rejoin her mother.
Kate approached her son carefully, reaching out to touch his split lip, “Oh, my baby.” Hamish wouldn’t look at her, fingers clenched on the fabric of his blanket. “Look at me, love, please?” None of them could deny Kate, there was something about her that made resistance futile, so he looked up, shame the evident emotion on his face. Kate pulled her son into her arms as tears began to fall again, “Shh, baby, you’re okay. You’re safe now. No one’s gonna hurt you here, I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I didn’t want it, Mum.” Hamish cried hoarsely.
“I know.” Kate said softly, carding her fingers through his hair, “It’s not your fault. There’s bad people in the world, but nothing they do is by any fault but their own.” She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, staring at the perfect mix of her and John that looked back at her, “You will always be my little boy. This family is here for you, whatever you need.”
Hamish drew his reddened eyes to his sister, “Where are Papa and Da?”
“Outside.” Emma answered, wishing she could have taken his place. While she wasn’t as apathetic as her father by any means, she was mentally stronger than Hamish. He was gentle, kind, and he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was just like his father. They’d all tried so hard to keep the shadows out of his eyes, to protect him. They’d failed.
Hamish locked eyes with his big sister, “Emma, are you gonna get’m?”
She nodded, approaching slowly, relieved when he held a hand out to her. “I’m gonna get’m, Haim. Me and Julian.”
“Don’t let Da get in trouble.” He asked, wincing as he shifted on the bed.
“He’s always in trouble.” Emma said, earning a small smile from her baby brother.
He asked for their fathers then, and Emma practically ran to retrieve them. Hamish sighed heavily once the family was reunited, and started, unasked, into his account of what happened. “I-I thought Caden was interested, so I went out behind the gym with him. The others were waiting out there, and once he had my shirt off, they came out. They all just...held me down and Caden started gagging me with his...you know. They blindfolded me, and one of them yanked my pants off, started...touching me. They called me awful things, one pulled a lighter out. I could hear him clicking it over and over again, he said he was going to burn the heart out of me, or something like that. I could feel the flame on my back, and I somehow got a fist free and hit the lighter away. Caden’s the only one that stuck around after that, and I just kept hitting him. I pulled what was left of my clothes back on after he became unconscious.”
Sherlock was standing stock still, not crouching closer to the boy in a show of unconscious familial bond like the other three were. When he spoke, the words were slow, delicate in their severity, “What did he say?”
Hamish shook his head, “What Da?”
“What. Did. The. One. With. The. Lighter. Say?” Sherlock enunciated, jaw set firmly.
“That he was going to burn the heart out of me.” Hamish repeated, not understanding why of all he had said that that was what his father focused on.
Sherlock swept from the room. Hamish let out a ragged sob, “He hates me, doesn’t he?”
John shook his head, “No, Haim. That’s not it. Hold up. Your Da and I need to talk.”
“John?” Kate said in confusion as he left the hospital room.
“Not now, Katie. I...uh...I’ll explain later...I think. God I hope I’m wrong. I hope he’s wrong.” John mumbled, leaving the three alone. Kate looked to her daughter, who was just as in the dark, just holding her brother’s shaking hand.