Just A Game [Teenlock]

Chapter Twenty-Four: Falling Apart

No one got who it was. Also, I've had this chapter planned for a while so don't hate me.. Especially those of you who ship a certain ship...

Moodboard by byefromhell

~

Sherlock's nerves were strung high. If it was who he thought it was... He had no idea what he was going to do. Sit beside them? Give them a hug?

His fingers curl around the side of the door and it creaks a little. Sherlock freezes, listening closely. The sobbing is still there but he can tell whoever is behind the door is trying to keep quiet. They've heard him.

"Piss off" snarls a voice.

A very familiar voice.

Sherlock's eyes widen and he scrabbles to remove his backpack. Once he has it in front of him he unzips the front pocket as fast as humanly possible and pulls out his wallet. Opening the main section of the wallet, Sherlock searches for the squares of paper he keeps in there.

Once he has hold of the peach coloured square, he pulls open the door to the storage cupboard.

"I said pi-- Sherlock?" The person sat there blinks at him, tears staining their cheeks. Their eyes then lower to the square.

Sherlock steps into the cupboard and closes the door before he sits with his legs tucked under him.

He couldn't believe it. It was the person he thought it was...

Sherlock had only ever seen his brother cry once before. They were a lot younger and it had been his fault. He hid Mycroft's favourite toy which he'd been given by their grandmother.

"Mycroft, why-"

"That's a promise you can't keep" Mycroft interrupts, nodding at the peach coloured square.

Sherlock frowns at that, looking down at the paper. These worked the same way as their envelopes. It was a code between them, removing misunderstandings and also enabling them to keep things simple.

The peach meant that Sherlock wanted to talk and anything said wouldn't be acted upon.

"Why?" Sherlock asks again, moving to sit beside Mycroft.

Mycroft doesn't speak for a few moment, instead he glares down at the floor. Sherlock's mind races, making a few simple connections. For starters, when Mycroft is upset he goes to his boyfriend. So if he was sat in here instead of being in his boyfriend's arms, they'd had an argument or Lestrade wasn't available for some reason.

"What happened?" Sherlock hesitates before placing his hand on his brothers arm. He was surprised not to be get immediately shook off.

"I know we pretend not to care. But I know you will and that" he nods at the peach square "is a promise you can't keep. I know you, you'll want to do something"

For a moment, Sherlock was too shocked to say anything. This wasn't how Mycroft and he acted, they never actually spoke out loud about how many of the things they do is just part of act. They never say that they care about each other. It's just a rule.

Sherlock didn't know how to deal with the fact that rule had just been broken. Does he confirm to Mycroft that he cares? Does he ignore it?

"Okay. Fine. I can't promise I won't act on whatever you might tell me, but I still want to knowing why you're in here crying"

Mycroft raises his eyes to look at Sherlock for a second before he looks back to the floor, fingers dipping into his jacket pocket to produce a packet of cigarettes. He hands one to Sherlock and slots another between his lips.

Sherlock takes his lighter out and lights both of their cigarettes, being patient and waiting for Mycroft to talk.

Sherlock was half way through his cigarette when Mycroft spoke up.

He blew out the smoke and flicks the ash before saying, in an emotionless voice "Greg broke up with him"

Not for the first time today, Mycroft's words cause Sherlock to pause and have to process information at half his normal speed.

"Why?" Sherlock asks, looking at his brother again.

Mycroft lets out a shaky breath and swallows thickly, almost chocking on tears he wasn't allowing to fall. Sherlock's hand settles back on Mycroft's elbow and squeezes.

"He, uh.. He's met someone else. Well, no. He's known them a long while. But he's... He says he thinks he's in love with them and doesn't want to hurt me by being with me when he loves someone else..." Mycroft takes a deep drag.

"Who?" Sherlock murmurs, quietly, almost softly.

Mycroft gives a pained laugh "Like seventy percent of this damn college, he's gone and fallen for one of the Trio..."

"Mycroft... Who?"

Mycroft looks down at his feet, sucking the last of the life from the cigarette before he tosses the butt to the floor. "I don't blame you. You were just the way you are with everyone - flirty and overly suggestive" Mycroft raises his eyes "But if you sleep with him, I will never talk to you again..."

Sherlock freezes. The boy his brother is hopeless in love with thinks he's falling for him...

"He doesn't like me. He likes the idea of me, just like everyone else that isn't Jim, Irene and Corey. All the others-" Sherlock stops, feeling a bit selfish. This wasn't about him.

Mycroft nods. "I know that, Sherlock. I don't blame you, so don't blame yourself"

"I don't." Sherlock states "I blame him, for being stupid enough to get this idea in his head"

It really was silly if Lestrade expected Sherlock to even say hello to him, never mind how outrageous it would be if he thinks he's got a chance to do anything at all with Sherlock.

"I know you'll probably snap at him, at least. But do try to remember that you planned on going into this conversation with Peach"

Sherlock nods. "I'll try"

Two and a half hours later, Sherlock had Lestrade pinned to their lunch table. One hand squeezed his throat as he snarled at the older boy, oblivious to all the students in the lunch room that were watching. Even his friends (Jim, Irene, Molly, Corey and John) were just sitting there shocked.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Lestrade scrambles to try and claw at Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock tightens his grip and Lestrade's eyes widen in fear, his hands falling back up his side as he tenses up. Pleased with the reaction, Sherlock loosens the grip on Lestrade's throat a little.

"Um, Sherlock, honey..." Corey trails off, sounding worried.

"Shh, Corey" Sherlock answers, still glaring down at Lestrade.

"Is- Isn't it better like this?" Lestrade swallows nervously. "That I told him..."

Sherlock laughs bitterly "No. It would been better for you to keep your mouth shut.. Because, now, when you go back to him, realising that he is the one that you want, he'll remember this. Always. He'll never forget how you left him because you think that maybe you're attracted to someone else. Newsflash, H, most people are attracted to other people when they're in relationships! It's normal. But you don't fucking leave that person and tell them! You wait for it to go"

Sherlock breathes out, trying to control his anger. Seeming to understand what was happening, Jim and Corey flock to Sherlock's side, both trying to soothe him. It only helped a bit. Especially because Jim was there, that meant a lot.

Lestrade didn't say a word, just stared up at Sherlock, scared that he was going to be hurt. Maybe he was imagine Sherlock's hand pressing down, cutting off his air supply.

Sherlock sneers down at the boy. He'd never admit out loud however much he wanted to help Mycroft, avenge him somehow.

"I..." Lestrade stops, debates and then continues. "It's not exactly my fault... You.. You were always so flirty and you always seemed interested. I didn't want it to happen! It just did! I- I'm sorry"

Sherlock growls. "I'm like that with everyone, you arse!"

"I know that.. Everyone knows that. Doesn't stop them from thinking you like them more than others, doesn't stop them from starting to like you" Lestrade jerks his head up the best he could, gesturing to where John, Molly and Irene sat watching the scene. "Molly did it, fell for you. John did it too" Lestrade looks to Jim ands Corey in turn. "It didn't stop them two, either"

Sherlock stares for a long time at the boy he had pinned to the table before asking Jim, very calmly "Jim, what's the best way to murder someone?"

Spluttering, shocked, Jim's soothing hand falls from Sherlock's shoulder and he steps back, eyes wide as he stares at Sherlock, his face twisted to show the betrayal he felt.

Sherlock blinks and looks to the side, his brain catching up with his word. He looks to Jim, his eyes meeting the other boy's and locking.

"Jim.. I didn't.. I wasn't thinking" He swallows a lump that had formed in his throat, the guilt showing in his voice and face.

Jim shakes his head, waving a hand. "It's f-fine..."

Sherlock straightens, his hand falling from Lestrade's neck as he backs away from the table. The moment he wasn't pinned down, Mycroft's ex scrambles on to his feet and runs off. Sherlock watches him go for just a moment before he returns his attention to Jim, who looked on verge of a panic attack.

Sherlock opens his mouth before he becomes aware of their growing audience. Without a word, Sherlock grabs Jim's upper arm and drags Jim with him out of the cafeteria.

John turns to Irene, voice lowered "Are they going to..."

Irene shakes her head. "I don't think so... I think they're going to finally talk. Well, at least, Jim will. Sherlock..." She takes a breath "Unfortunately, I don't think Sherlock will have much to say in reply..."

Molly's eyes widen and he leans forward, over John who sat between the two girls. As she does, Corey sits down beside her again, his ears open.

"You think Jim will tell him?!"

Irene nods, but she doesn't look happy. "I think he just might. After Greg said... Well, Sherlock's going to register those words eventually, isn't he? Realise what Greg means..."

They all stay silent for a few moments, thinking to themselves.

"Is it true?" Corey asks, eyes on John and Molly "Do you both fancy Sherlock?"

"Did. Past tense" Molly says "But yeah, I did. He's just... I don't know. He's got that air about him that convinces you he'd be perfect for you..."

Corey doesn't comment and looks to John, eyebrow raising.

John nods. "Yeah... I do. God help me. He just... He likes all the shows I like that no one seems to care much about anymore, he's flirty, he cares and he helps me out when I need him to... He's.. Perfect"

Irene looks at each of them in turn before she nods at Corey. "What about you?"

Corey breaks out into a grin. "I've never given it much though. I've always been too busy looking after him; nursing hangovers, trying to find the coke before he can get to it, putting ice on his bruises after Benjamin hit him all those times. You know.. Just trying to make sure he's okay... Benjamin wasn't going to look after him. Someone had to"

Molly's eyes widen at the mention of Benjamin and the coke, and she looks straight to John - who didn't know a thing yet. John had gone pale, unable to look away from Corey and Molly was sure he was repeating the words over and over in his mind.

"Oh, dear..." Corey murmurs, registering their facial expressions "You didn't know?" He asks John.

All John does is shake his head.

Irene glances at John for a split second before she leans forward to put her hand on top of Corey's, squeezing and looking into his eyes.

"Thank you, Corey. We.. We didn't know you were doing that. We all assumed you were just another guy that worked for Benjamin.."

Corey shakes his head. "No sweat, honey. And I am just another guy that works for him. But I care about Sherlock too. I love him and I'd do anything for him... Anything he needs"

Irene swallows and nods, leaning back. She puts both hands in her lap, looking between the two boys for some time. Then, she looks to Molly and she can see that Molly is thinking the same.

They all love Sherlock. All of them. John, Jim and Corey. The three that shouldn't really love him that way because they're Sherlock's friends. It happens, of coursez friends falling for each other. But this... All three of them.

Molly swallows and raises an eyebrow at Irene, asking her what they do.

They're all falling apart. All unsure. Just when she thought everything was looking up for them all...

Not knowing the answer to Molly's concerns, Irene simply shakes her head. Then, though, it clicks. Her eyes widen and she stands, excusing herself before rushing out of the cafeteria and towards the storage closet where Jim and Sherlock would be, leaving the other three sat there in silence.