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As a child, Sherlock always felt as if he didn't belong. In his family, his older brother Mycroft would demote him by calling him stupid. So Sherlock studied harder.
His parents were fairly ordinary (beyond his mother's talent at mathematics) and worried about how he never came out of his room and that his only friend was a dog. So, one day, they sent the brothers to school.
Sherlock, despite his complaints, was very excited. He couldn't wait to meet other children his age and to learn new things. Mycroft, however, insisted on not needing to go as his intelligence was beyond any other, but to no avail; his parents made him go.
On their first day, Mycroft and Sherlock stepped out of the car to a disordered group of students their age; talking and communing with everyone there.
Sherlock felt his heart beat faster as reality of the situation grew on him. He turned to Mycroft, wide eyed and in a mix of emotions of scared and excited. Mycroft looked down with a placid face and smirked.
"It is only your first day and you're already nervous? Save that for the end, Sherlock. These...children are fairly unpredictable. Sherlock returned his attention to the (now calmer) group of people. He hardened his face and calmed down his heart rate - something Mycroft taught him how to do since he was 3.
His face was stone and looked absolutely bored and full of disinterest. Sherlock took Mycroft's hand as they made their way to the front office for their schedules. Of course, Sherlock's biggest fear came true: he and Mycroft were not in the same classes. Where Sherlock had one, Mycroft had 4. Mycroft knelt down to his baby brother, seeing the fear in his eyes, and gave him a small embrace.
Sherlock seemed to be on the brink of tears, completely scared, but his face remained as stone. "Now now," Mycroft soothed. "You wouldn't want mummy to find out you cried on your first day before you've even started, now would you?" Sherlock stared down to the ground, sniffled, and began navigating his way through the school.
He reached his first year class and strolled in, "as if you belong there" Mycroft's words from the night before echoed in his head.
He looked around, face placid, until he saw an empty seat up front. He placed his book down and sat promptly, waiting for the arrival of other student and the teacher.
After about 10 minutes, a few kids came in, chattering about some urban legend that had all of the kids swooning. Sherlock eaves dropped on the red-head talking.
"...and so the kid jumped off of the car and it seemed like the end, but as soon as he lifted off the car he took off flying..." Sherlock knitted his brows together in confusion.
The law of physics clearly states that gravity would've overpowered the boy and anatomy defines that humans couldn't fly without the assistance of an aircraft.
"Excuse me," Sherlock said, interrupting the boy's babbling and receiving a look of confusion and anger as to why someone would interrupt him. "But are you talking about a work of fiction?"
The boy looked as if he was going to laugh. "It's a true story and everyone knows it. I was just correcting Sam on what really happened," the red head claimed.
He slapped a blonde boy on the back, who gave Sherlock a small smile. Sherlock's face was stone. "I said a UFO came out and abducted him," Sam mumbled.
Sherlock studied them for a moment before filling them in on how gravity and anatomy works. They stared at him, confused and dumbfounded at his large words and vast knowledge.
"But," Sherlock interrupted their processing. "Do you know who the boy was or if he was even real?" The boys looked at each other before nodding and saying, "It was Jimmy. He sat there before he went missing."
The blonde pointed towards a desk in the far back corner by a window. Sherlock nodded and turned around. "How do you know so much?" The red head asked. "I've studied since I was 1. Like all of you, right? You've probably read more than me too. My brother can read a thousand words a second and I can only read half as much..." Sherlock looked down in discouragement.
The two boys exchanged looks before saying "We don't know how to read." Sherlock looked up at them, a bit angry. "No, I'm sure you have. My brother has made sure I know I am stupid and that I'm going to be placed in special classes because of my intelligence level."
The two boys exchanged more looks before turning around and whispering. Soon, more kids piled in and a large brunette boy had come in.
"That's my seat," he said, towering over Sherlock. Sherlock looked up with a placid face. "Didn't you hear me?" the boy said more frustratedly. Sherlock blinked and looked around, seeing plenty of other open chairs. "You could sit somewhere else..." Sherlock said, but was cut off by the large boy shoving him out of his seat.
Sherlock hit the ground with a loud 'oof' and scrambled to get up. Other kids around him began snickering and laughing at him. The boy took the seat and sat on it, crossing his arms. Sherlock had never felt so humiliated and felt his eyes sting when a tall, petite woman came sauntering into the room.
"Good morning class!" she chimed. "Good morning Mrs. Gertrude," the class announced back. She scanned the room before zeroing in on Sherlock. "And why are we out of our seats, Mister..."
"Holmes," Sherlock dead panned. "Sherlock Holmes."
"Ah yes!" she said with a bright smile. "You're my new student. And would you like to tell me why we're not seated, Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock scanned her, brain buzzing with observations concluding into deductions.
"Because," he began. "You have just walked into the room and do not find the need to sit down or else these children will become uncontrollable and rambunctious unless there is a large power-figure standing over them. Despite your feet hurting in those heels, I suspect you enjoy playing 'overlord' like some kind of power play. The heels are to make you appear taller and in control rather than for looks, judging by the fact that you're already taller than any of us in here and that old coffee stain on your blazer. How do I not know it was from this morning? Well as you came in there was no hint or trace of coffee on the rest of your clothes and if you had it at home you would've changed. Now the reason I am standing is because I was forced out of my seat and was in quite a daze as you walked in, not really allowing me to find an empty seat."
The teacher stared at him, dumbfounded. "Well, that was...quite interesting Mr. Holmes. I'm glad to see you have such a wonderful imagination." She smiled, but it faltered as his stare never left her and his mouth was a thin line. "Please, take a seat."
Sherlock looked around before noticing that "Jimmy's" seat was empty. He went over and sat down and looked out the window, bored already. He eventually snapped out of his daydreaming of pirates to see Mrs. Gertrude standing next to him, hand open. Sherlock looked at it, and then back at her, confused. "Your book report, Mr. Holmes?"
Sherlock looked around and saw kids staring at him, snickering. "I don't have it. I was not notified one was required."
She smiled down at him, a bit more sinister than before. "Well," she said, sighing. "Looks like you'll have to turn one in tomorrow." She then walked back to her desk and announced that lunch would begin soon.
Kids brought out lunch bags and money for food, while Sherlock had nothing.
As Sherlock approached the cafeteria, he felt two meaty hands grab ahold of his shoulders. He was pulled into an abandoned hallway and was presented by three boys: the red head, Sam, and the pudgy kid that took his seat.
"Listen freak," the bigger one spat, curling his fist into the collar of Sherlock's shirt. "I need food, and you're going to gimme yours, got it?" Sherlock's face went from surprised to stone.
Sherlock blinked at him before saying, "I don't have any food, nor the money to purchase it." This was a lie, considering his mother gave both him and Mycroft money for lunch, but Sherlock left the money in the class room with his book, not finding the need to eat.
"Liar," the red head chirped. Sam seemed to be looking out frantically for any approaching staff members.
"G-Guys, I hear footsteps," Sam said, tugging on the red head's shirt. "Shut up, Samantha," the red head sneered. The blonde's cheeks went pink. "I told you to stop calling me that!" The bigger of the bunch rolled his eyes and barked, "Hey, pipe down or we'll get caught!"
Then, without warning, the brunette punched Sherlock in the gut. Sherlock felt like the wind was knocked out of him and curled into himself.
"Guys, he obviously don't have nothing so let's go!" With that, the boys walked off laughing at Sherlock, calling him a freak until they were behind the doors of the cafeteria. Sherlock ran back to the classroom, picked up his book, and ran back out. He could feel tears streaming down his face as he ran, vision blurry.
He didn't know where he was going, these winding halls were all too confusing. He finally reached an abandoned hallway and collapsed, tears streaming down his face and book clutched close to his chest.
"Sherlock?"
Sherlock shot his head up to see no one. He looked around, eyebrows knitted together and nose sniffling.
"Sherlock, it's ok. It's me, John."
"J-John?" Sherlock stuttered.
A little man with wings appeared before him. "Yeah. Remember me? We played together a lot when you were little. Well, littler. You've grown up so much since then..."
"You're-you're not real. You're just a figment of my imagination. Mycroft said..."
John flew onto Sherlock's knee. "Does Mycroft know everything?" Sherlock looked down. "I used to think he did. But..."
"It's alright," John soothed. "Whether your brother believes in angels or not, it doesn't make much of a difference. I'm here for you, not him." Sherlock bowed his head and began to cry again.
"Hey, look at me." Sherlock looked up, reluctantly, trying to stop the tears and sniffling. "It's alright. It'll be alright. You can do this. We can do this together."
Watery eyes locked on to tiny sea blue ones. "I know it hurts, but you'll be ok as long as I'm here." Sherlock let out a small whimper.
John perched on Sherlock's shoulder and wiped away a few stray tears with his wings. "Now Sherlock, why do we fall?" Sherlock replied, "Well the law of gravity states-" He was cut off by light feathers ruffling on his ear and a small chuckle.
"No no, Sherlock. I mean why do we fall down?"
Sherlock's brows furrowed in confusion. "To get back up," John said with a soft smile. Sherlock's tears began to evaporate and he smiled softly back.
"C'mon, get up. You can do it." Sherlock reluctantly stood up, book still clutched tight to his chest. "Now let's go back to that classroom and face our problems together."
As they walked down the hall, Sherlock stared down at his feet. "John?"
"Mhmm?"
"Promise you'll never leave me?" A smile crept up John's face.
"I'll always be with you, Sherlock."
Sherlock sniffled one last time and smiled before returning to class and taking his seat.