Family Ties: A Kidlock Fanfiction

Chapter 8: The Threat

"Naptime!" Miss Scott squealed after playtime. Sherlock scowled. Naps were for babies. Last time he checked, babies didn't go to school. He had hoped this educational experience would make him feel older, but it was just the opposite. He was tired of his teacher's singsongy voice and all his stupid peers. Well, everyone except John. John was different.

The classroom filled with whines and complaints over Naptime. Miss Scott just smiled and wagged her chubby finger.

"Now, now, don't fret," she said. "In this class, naptime is fun! We sleep on mats, which have fun colors! Then we have time for more fun! How does that sound?"

To Sherlock it sounded like she needed more fun synonyms in her adjective arsenal. To his classmates, it sounded like a competition. The children burst forward in a frenzy, grabbing for their favorite colorful mat. Miss Scott was immediately thrown into the mix.

While his teacher was trying to separate two boys fighting over a Batman mat, Sherlock saw his chance. He quickly slipped out the classroom door and out into the empty corridor. He breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace and quiet. He decided to search for the library and read until lunchtime. He doubted anyone would notice his absence.

Sherlock made sure to keep his head down and hide if a teacher came into sight. The library ended up being on the second floor with all the older years. The librarian just smiled at him, completely unfazed by his random appearance. Sherlock gave her a stiff nod and surveyed the room. It was rather modest for a library. Not nearly as extravagant as the one at his home. Yet the dusty shelves were stocked with an incredible variety of books. They had a rainbow of spines, each with playful fonts screaming the titles. Nothing like the ancient encyclopedias and classic literature he was used to.

Suddenly, a title on top of a nearby shelf caught his eye. The Fellowship of the Ring. Yes! The first 'Lord of the Rings' book! Sherlock snatched the treasure with a triumphant grin. He could read this in the library, without Mycroft to tease him about his "juvenile" reading taste.

Sherlock ran into an empty corner at the far end of the library. He hunkered down and turned to the first page. A bright yellow slip of paper greeted him instead: 'Hello, Sherlock Holmes'

Sherlock sucked in a breath. Who wrote this? How did they know his name, and that he would open this particular book? He traced his fingers along the letters. It was ink from an average pen. He looked down at his finger, now covered in the ink. The message was written just moments ago. Whoever wrote this knew who he was and exactly what he would do. He turned to the next page. Another slip.

'Oh, Sherlock, don't be alarmed. I know exactly who you are. In fact, I am quite the fan. Your intellect is astonishing, and your deduction skills are developing well.'

Sherlock racked his brain. This couldn't be Mycroft. Although he knew Sherlock fairly well, he would never compliment his little brother. Sherlock turned to the next note.

'Now, little Holmes, I have a proposal for you. I am the most powerful person in the school, and I want you on my team. I am not an adult, but I am not a child. I am a consultant. You know how everyone is an idiot? Well, I make sure they do not go unpunished. It is so much fun, and money is earned in the process! Interested?'

Sherlock gulped nervously. His intestines felt like they were tying themselves into a knot. His body's response was screaming no. Something about this was wrong. He turned the page.

'Oh, having an internal struggle, are we? That's alright. Just take as long as you like. I can wait. The pool on the East wing of the school. In the meantime, I will do my best to convince you. The game is on. Good luck, Sherlock dear.'

Sherlock's head started to spin. This mysterious "consultant" was clever, that was for sure. But was it worth it to just give in and joining his "team"? It sounded more like a gang, and that was not appealing to him at all.

He hastily ripped out the notes and shoved them in his pocket. He needed to get back to the safety of his classroom. He stood up and rushed towards the door. Suddenly, a person turning the corner walked into him.

"Ow! Oh, I'm sorry!" The girl exclaimed. She was shorter than Sherlock, with brunette pigtails falling over her prim uniform. When she looked up at him, she gasped and turned bright red.

Sherlock frowned. "Are you okay?" He asked the flustered girl warily.

"No, no, I'm fine! Sorry," she stuttered. "Um, hi, I'm Molly!" She toyed at a pigtail nervously, twirling it between her fingers.

"Sherlock," he said stiffly, looking over her head at the exit longingly.

"Wow, neat name!" She chirped.

"I've been told," he snapped, but Molly didn't flinch. In fact, she couldn't stop staring at him with an odd expression on her face. Sherlock coughed uncomfortably. "Goodbye." He said and pushed past her.

"Oh... Bye!" Her tiny voice floated after him as he rushed into the hallway.

When Sherlock got back to the classroom, it was empty. A sign was taped to the door: 'We're at lunch now. Yummy!' He snorted and went in anyways. He wasn't very hungry for lunch. He could wait until the others came back, and just claim he got lost or something. He found his book on his desk and sat down. A sudden cry of anguish escaped from his throat.

Each page had been burned. Ash collected on his lap as he flipped through the destroyed book. Angry tears started to form in his eyes. This was his book, and now it was ruined. He turned to the back cover, which appeared to be unscathed. Upon closer inspection, he could make out writing on the back in red pen.

'Don't say I didn't warn you, Sherly. There's more fun to come if you don't give me an answer. I'm waiting.'