***Warnings for: bleeped out swearing, implied child abuse, implied bullying, and homosexuality in minor characters (just Harry so far)

***Tags: Teen!lock, School!fic, BAMF!John, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Mike Stamford, Harry Watson, Father Watson is a jerk, Mother Watson is dead, Mycroft Holmes, Bullying, Child abuse

John H. Watson is a brave kid. Anyone who knows him, or who has heard the rumors about him, would be forced to admit that. The things that he has done and the things he does every day, and the complete s*** he puts up with makes that undeniable. He is the shadowed hero of the school, in his own way. And everyone knows what is being done to him. The cuts, bruises, and broken bones he hides are never actually secrets. Everyone knows, even the professors. But no one does anything. They can't. John is the only one who stands up to it, and it's killing him. Slowly.

John came to this school with his sister three years ago to escape an abusive home situation. Or at least, that's how his therapist phrased it. His own wording would have included a few more choice words and the phrase "complete monster of a man" in there somewhere, but, hey.

John grew up taking s*** from his father and listening to excuses from his mother. (Until she died. Then no one even bothered to make excuses anymore and he wasn't sure if he should feel refreshed or devastated. He settled for hollow.) His sister was his only ally, and he did everything he could to protect her. But Harriet Watson was not a force to be contained. She lived for the party most humans call life. She loved alcohol and having fun and partying and beautiful women and being opinionated about everything. She hated restrictions and really, he hated to restrict her.

So one day, when enough finally became infinitely more than enough and he didn't think he'd be able to take another second of his life without braining himself with his father's old army pistol, he got out. He took Harry and two back packs full of all the stuff he could grab at a moment's notice and walked out of the door and just kept walking. Eventually, he ended up bunking with his best mate, Mike Stamford, at his house. Harry slept on the couch and complained loudly until she passed out from exhaustion.

The very next day he woke up and called his father and child services. He put child services on hold while he calmly informed his father that they would not be returning. Then, while the yelling and swearing and threatening began, he took child services off hold and told them everything, all with the background noises of his sister's snores.

Two weeks and one painful hospital visit later, and he and Harry were enrolling at St. Bartholomew's Private Academy for Youth, (and if that wasn't a stuffy name he didn't know what one was). His injuries from the rather uncivil final encounter with his father were nowhere near fully healed yet, but he was mobile and he had a cane to help him get around properly.

He hated that cane. He should be able to walk on his own. He needed to protect Harry, how was he supposed to do that when he couldn't even walk on his own? And she attracted enough attention. She was beautiful, loud, and unceasingly energetic. (Next to her, he felt like an old man. A tired old man.) But he needn't have worried. The first time someone picked a fight with her John beat the guy so badly that he missed a week and a half of school. (Whether the fight was over her sexuality, her drinking, or her behavior, he'd never find out, but then again, that wasn't what mattered.)

Everyone forgot about Harry. John had practically handed the bullies of the school a paintbrush and two tubes of paint, red and white, and asked them to paint a target on his forehead. He thought he had left that life behind, the life of constantly being beaten and afraid. He didn't want this. He just wanted to feel safe. More importantly though, he wanted Harry to feel safe. But that didn't mean he had to suffer in silence.

Back then, no one else knew about John. The bullies all knew him as their new target, but to everyone else he was simply "the new kid." He went to class, made friends, and was very careful about how much skin he showed. He was careful about who was around when he got cornered into a fight. He was careful about fighting back.

Now he isn't. All the bullies in the school know to watch out for John Watson. His leg recovered years ago, but he still walks with a limp and carries a cane. He appears to be a cripple in a dumpy jumper, unable to afford the newer cardigans or sweater vests. But everyone now knows that everything, and everyone, is not what they first appear to be, that jumpers can hide deeper scars than one can imagine and that a cane is a weapon, not a tool for holding oneself up. The bullying level at St. Bart's is at a record low this year; with only one person in the entire school being bullied, it only makes sense. There's never been better numbers for the school in all its centuries of existence.

Actually, it was those numbers that convinced one Mycroft Holmes that it would be the perfect school for his lonely, friendless, little brother, Sherlock.

...

***A/N:

Hi, I go by Pinlie online, and this is my second fan fiction series ever. I decided that I wanted to try to write one of my favorite types of fan fiction, a teen!lock school!fic. But everyone writes one of those, so I gave it a little twist. Have you ever noticed how for some reason, John is always the new kid in these types of stories? I decided to make Sherlock the new character in my version, and then I added in the bullying thing as the major plot line. If you like this fic enough to want it to continue, review please! I rarely continue my stories otherwise. Thanks for taking the time to read this.