Sherlock || Kidlock Fanfictions

"Is the Bad Guy Gone?"

Mycroft got out of the car after a long and stressful day at school. His project was smashed into pieces by some arse. All he wanted to do was to throw himself to his bed and probably read some history books. But from the expression of the silence of the house, he knew something was not right. The house is never this quiet, even with both his parents away. Sherlock is aways either playing pretend or somewhere with redbeard playing pirates. "Sherlock! Sherlock!" Mycroft shouted and there weren't any reply. He searched the whole house, every corner any every room. No sign of Sherlock and redbeard was sleeping. "Oh no, Sherlock, where are you?"

Mycroft was tired and he wanted to rest so badly but the thought of his little brother getting hurt was too much for him to bare. He gathered every ounce of energy he has left and he started looking for his little brother. He went back to his school, following the trail from the beginning. When it seems like things couldn't get worst, rain started falling from the sky. Its was pouring outside. He had to look for his brother faster. He looked around everywhere and even asked questions to the houses nearby the school, but nobody saw him after be left school. Then he came across a pub, several miles away from the school. By this time, it was hard to see anything as the rain and win was so harsh. But from the distance he could see blood coming from the back side of the pub. He ran only to find Small, skinny Sherlock on the ground in a dumpster. Sherlock was on the ground, he was lying on a pool of his own blood. His shirt was torn apart and there was an enormous wound on the side of his head and stomach. Cuts and bruises could be found in the poor boy's body and his skin, his skin was paler than white. "Sherlock! Wake up! Sherlock!" Mycroft shouted. Sherlock didn't answer, he was too weak to open his eyes and too weak to speak. Mycroft, with his knees on the ground, started crying. "Oh little brother, what happened?" He sobbed those words out of his mouth. He checked his brothers pulse. His heart was barely beating and he carried him back home as fast as he could. "Sherlock, brother dear, can you hear me? Sherlock!" He checked his pulse again and his heart was not beating.

He lay his brother on the ground. "1..2..3.., 1..2..3.." Mycroft was doing CPR on his brother's small body. "1..2..3..,1..2..3.." After what seemed like forever his little brother was breathing again. He would have brought him to the hospital but the nearest hospital is at least two hours away. He ran home with Sherlock on his arms. Once he arrived he swung open the and hr immediately laid his brother on the sofa and started doing more chest compressions. "Oh Sherlock dear! Wake up my brother. Sherlock! Please!" "1..2..3.." "Sherlock come on brother." Mycroft could only think about their fight yesterday. How guilty he was for saying those things he said to Sherlock. Right now, he doesn't care how much his hand hurt, he kept on going on going. After he might have broken a rib or two from the pressure Sherlock finally woke up. "Sherlock!" Mycroft and his mother screamed in relief. Sherlock moved his body and all he could feel was pain. "My, is the bad guy gone? Is the bad guy gone!" Sherlock could barely mumble those words out. "Oh little one, you are safe now. Big brother is here. Im going to protect you." Mycroft was crying and sobbed. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Sherlock's shoulder and pulled him close. Sherlock sunk into the warmth of his side. He knew he is safe with his older brother. "Mycrof-", " Hush dear, i'm going to call the police. Lay down and rest." Mycroft gently placed hos brother's head on the pillow and called 999. "This is 999, how can i help you?" The woman from the telephone asked. "Uh..m-my brother got beaten up, bad. He need an ambulance. Quickly!" "Sir, the rain outside is too strong and from our podcast there is going to be a strong tornado coming our way. The medics can't reach there. The road has been blocked." She broke the news which then only worry Mycroft more. He hung up the phone and gently carried Sherlock up the stairs to his room. He placed sherlock on the bed. "Brother, what's wrong?" Sherlock questioned with tears on his eyes. He couldn't bare the pain but he tried his best to ignore it so Mycroft wouldn't be so worried. "Nothing. Everything is going to be fine." Mycroft went to his parent's room and got the first aid kit. He sat beside Sherlock as he cleaned his wounds. "Sherlock, what happened? How did it happen dear?" Sherlock looked at Mycroft and took a deep breath. Clearly he didn't want to talk about it but he knew he had to explain. "I-i saw your cool friends going to the pub and i followed them. I wanted to m-make an impression." He looked down, embarrassed. "But why Sherlock? Why?" "Because yesterday you told me you don't want to be around me b-because i-i..." Sherlock wasn't able to get those words out of his mouth. It was too much for him. "Oh my God Sherlock! Im so sorry." Mycroft didn't mean any of that. Looking at his brother like this, so hurt and scared made him feel so guilty. His eyes drip with tears. His walls, the walls that hold him up, the ones that made him strong has collapsed. He sobbed into Sherlock's chest unceasingly, hands clutching his arms. He held him in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked his chest. "M-Mycroft, its not your f-fault." Sherlock looked at mycroft with his glassy gray eyes. He meant what he said. Sherlock was so naive, all he wanted to do was to help his brother have more friends. Apparently people at school are avoiding him because of Sherlock. They lay on the bed until the rain cleared out. Then Mycroft called the paramedics.