Chapter Text
When John first saw his father hit his sister it was at the dinner table; he had found the report card she had been hiding from him that said she was failing two of her classes. John was 14 at the time, Harry 16.
"You're smarter than this, Harriet! What have you been doing this whole time?! I grounded you a month ago for the same thing and your percentages have gotten worse!" Harry refused to look up from her plate, John was playing with the food on his, suddenly not hungry even though he'd been starving before. "Answer me Harry, explain yourself!" When she still didn't look up their father stood abruptly, pausing for only a second before striking her. It shocked both Harry and John, Harry teared up, but stayed silent; John, who felt like he was going to throw up, excused himself to his room.
The second time John saw his father hit his sister was a year later, they had both just entered the house from school, he was waiting there for her. He forced a bar of soap into her mouth and made her bite off a chunk of it before he pounded on her. John could only stand there and watch horrified and stay out of the way. He hated himself for not defending Harry, but he was so shocked and blindsided he hadn't even thought about it, which made him feel even worse when he thought about it later that night.
John was becoming afraid of their father; Harry kept making reckless decisions.
After a couple more times of seeing the bruises on his sister and the anger in his father's eyes when they were in the same room together John started reacting, but not in the way he wanted to. Instead of helping his sister he started helping himself, he threw himself into his studies. Everyone could see something changing in John, though no one knew why.
His appetite would disappear until all of his school work was done; if he got homework from his morning classes he wouldn't eat lunch until all of it was done. When his friends should have been concerned, they became annoyed. John was no longer fun to be around, all he did was focus on school, when the second semester of school started and the transfer students came in his spot at the table was soon filled.
John found a nearly empty table to sit at instead, "Can I sit here?" he asked the kid with curly black hair who occupied it.
The kid nodded.
"I'm John," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.
The boy hesitated, "Sherlock."
John sat across from him, taking out his chemistry textbook, knowing he wouldn't be eating today because they'd been assigned three pages worth of problems. He could feel Sherlock's eyes on him as he worked, but did his best to ignore it.
"You have to fence that equation," he said suddenly.
John looked and saw he was right, "Are you in chemistry?"
"No."
"Have you taken it before?"
"No."
John chuckled, "Then how do you know what you're doing?"
"I've read that textbook before," Sherlock explained.
"You've never taken the class but you've read the textbook?"
"It interests me," he shrugged.
"Will you help me then? I want to make sure I'm doing this right."
"You're not," Sherlock stated before he launched into an in depth explanation. They only got through one page worth of problems before lunch was over and neither of them had eaten a thing.
"Do you think you could help me after school? I'll have to ask my dad but I can probably pay you to tutor me," John asked as they packed up their notebooks.
"I don't need money. Do you want to go to your place or my place?"
"I'll feel guilty if I don't pay you something; I think your place would be best." There's never any telling what awaits Harry and him after school.
"You can pay me in a favor," Sherlock offered.
"What kind of favor?"
"I need an assistant for something; we can do it after we finish studying."
John thought about it, "Okay, but I need to be back in time to do my other homework."
Sherlock raised his eyebrow, "Do you do anything besides homework?"
John chuckled halfheartedly, "Not really." The warning bell sounded, "I'll meet you at the front of the building after school, okay?"
Sherlock nodded and they both headed in the separate directions of their classes.
John stopped Harry in the hall later in the day, "Can you tell dad I'm studying with a friend tonight so I won't be home till later?"
"You tell him, I'm not coming home tonight," she explained.
"What? What do you mean, you're grounded?" he asked.
"Fuck that, I'm always grounded! Just call him at home, he doesn't have work today anyway."
"All the more reason you should be going home," John reasoned. If he's been home all day that'll mean he's been drinking to relax.
"Sammy invited me to a party later and then I'm spending the night at hers."
John's eyes widened to saucers, "You're not coming home at all? Harry, he's going to kill you!" he whispered angrily.
"He would've killed me anyways; report cards went out yesterday," she explained.
"THEN DO YOUR FUCKING HOMEWORK FOR ONCE, HARRIET!" He regretted raising his voice, people were staring now.
"Fuck off, John!" She pushed him away; he slammed her locker shut before storming away. "Dickhead!" she called after him.
He was shaking and he couldn't pinpoint why, his breathing was becoming labored as well, he quickly ducked into a bathroom and pulled out his phone. The door announced someone else had entered after him, he glanced over his shoulder to see Sherlock had followed him in, "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine, I just, I need to call my dad," he said between heavy breaths. "I need to, tell him I won't be, home till later tonight."
Sherlock eyed him cautiously, "We can reschedule for another day if you want," he suggested.
"No! I need help with chemistry," he said as he tried to dial his phone, his hands were shaking too much and he couldn't stop pressing wrong numbers.
Sherlock grabbed it from his hands, "We can do it at your house if that'd be easier for you," he tried again as he dialed the number for him and handing it back so he could press call when he was ready.
"No! We can't, my dad, d-doesn't like me bringing friends home," he lied and started pacing.
"It's okay—" Sherlock started but John interrupted him.
"No it's no! It's not okay!" He walked over to the sink and tossed his phone on the edge while he rinsed his face with cold water. He leaned over the sink, his eyes closed while his brain tried to process what was happening. "No, you're right, I'm sorry. It's okay." He picked up his phone and pressed call.
"Hello?" his dad answered on the second ring.
"Hey dad, it's John."
"John? Is everything alright? You're supposed to be in school."
"Yeah, I am, I was just calling to let you know I won't be home till later tonight. I'm going to a friend's house so he can help me study," his voice wavered, but you couldn't tell over the phone.
"Oh. That's fine, what are you studying?"
"Chemistry."
"That's hard stuff," his dad agreed. "Thanks for letting me know. I'm proud of you son, I got your report card today, all As!"
"Thanks dad." Final bell rang, "I gotta go now, that was the bell."
"Alright, I'll see you later, love you."
"Love you too, bye." He hung his head, still leaning over the sink
Before his dad hung up he added something, "Tell Harriet I need to speak with her when she get's home, I got her report card today too."
John could feel himself pale, "Okay." Click.
Sherlock watched carefully as John crossed the bathroom and slid down the wall, bringing his knees into his chest and tangling his hands in his hair. He walked over and sat next to him on the dirty bathroom floor.
"I'm sorry," John apologized.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
There was a moment of silence as Sherlock thought of what to say that might offer some sort of comfort to John. He didn't normally care about other people's comfort, nor did he offer to tutor them or invite them on outings. He could sense something different about John though, he could tell he wasn't as stupid as other people and he wasn't mean to Sherlock like the other students.
"So we're friends then?" Sherlock asked wearily.
"If you want to be," John shrugged, looking straight ahead.
"Do you want to be?"
John peaked at Sherlock from the corner of his eye, "I'd like that I think."