University.

It was supposed to be better, Mummy had told Sherlock, kids grew up and weren't so mean. They wouldn't tease him anymore, wouldn't bully him anymore. Those words were the reason Sherlock ever got through school, ever graduated despite the jeers and taunts that sounded as he had walked down the stage to get his diploma. Mummy told him, "Sherlock, darling, just you wait. University is where your life begins. Everyone is different. You'll love it. You'll thrive."

As Sherlock dove through bushes and burst into his dorm building sweating and covered with dirt, all he could think of how Mummy had been very, very wrong.

. . .

Sure, University wasn't nearly as horrid as his formative years, but it was not the heaven-like experience he had hoped upon, had dreamed about nearly every night. It was still difficult, and Sherlock still found he didn't fit within a certain group nor did he know how to speak to people without pissing them off.

Today had been the real screw-up and Sherlock had realized it as soon as the deduction had slipped off his tongue and reached Sebastian Wilkes ears. He had only been trying to mind his own business in the library and explore the resources there to study for his courses when the arsehole himself had decided to pick fight with him.

"It's the freak." Sebastian sneered, his foot jostling one of the chairs next to Sherlock, "Heard he's a homo." He smirked.

Sherlock looked up, swallowing hard, keeping his temper level as he shut his book. "It would seem that one's sexuality is not your concern." He stated calmly, sitting stiffly in his chair, muscles tensed.

"It is, actually. When you live in the same building as me. I don't want to know what your kind do in their free time." Seb snarled, pressing a hand on the table Sherlock was sitting at. The breech in space between them made Sherlock uncomfortable and slightly nervous.

He licked his lips and offered a polite smile, standing up to start packing his things. He didn't want to keep this fight rolling, he didn't want to provoke something worse than a bit of verbal harassment. "I need to go." He said, stuffing the book in his bag before hurrying to zip it up and pull it over his shoulders.

"Going to shag some bloke I bet." Seb laughed, the two of his buddies behind him joining in quietly, "Or put on a dress. Who bloody knows with this freak."

Sherlock cleared his throat, the white heat of anger flashing behind his eyes and he didn't have time to bite his tongue. "Oh, yes, that is definitely what I am doing. Funny you should suggest such activities when you partake in both of them." The words were quick and clear and the reaction Seb gave sent Sherlock bolting out of the library, heart and feet pounding.

His bag holding his books, binders, and laptop was only weighing him down and he let out desperate wheezes as he sprinted across campus, feeling sweat beginning to bead on his hairline. He could hear Sebastian and another person in close pursuit behind him, grunting and cursing at him. He tried to use his mind and think of some solution to losing them, so he began cutting sharp corners, turn after turn; and there he was, diving into the bushes in front of his dorm building, dirt sticking to his cotton polo Mummy had bought him for his birthday. Great. Something else to put on the Things-Sherlock-Fucked-Up list.

He waited behind one of the bushes, trying to listen for footsteps but when there were none he darted into the building and stumbled over to the furniture in the lobby and collapsed on to one of the couches in the lobby. He was slumped awkwardly, his bag pressing uncomfortably against his spine and his face pressed harshly into the arm of the couch. He felt sticky with sweat and his lungs burned from the large amount of physical activity he had just involved himself in.

He glanced over at the two other people across the room, curled up in beanbag chairs with their noses in their laptop, fingers flying across their keyboards; they hadn't even noticed his abrupt and questionable entrance. If only everyone were so focused upon their studies rather than making other people's lives' miserable. They remained immersed in their work as Sherlock pulled himself up on to his feet and took the stairs up to the second floor where his room was.

Exhausted, sweaty, and miserable he wobbled down the hallway to his room, passing someone who turned to look at him with concern on their face, "Hey, you okay?"

Sherlock turned his head to look over at the other person. Blond. Blue eyes. Soft lips. Not important, he snapped internally. "Yes. Perfectly fine." He answered in one breath before shoving his key into the lock and nearly diving inside of his room. He locked his door behind him and tossed his bag on to the ground.

If only he could learn to just shut his damn mouth.

He walked over to his bed and plopped down on to it face first, his face buried into his pillow. Maybe he could just quit, drop out.

He rolled on to his back and stared vacantly up at his ceiling. He was due to call Mummy tonight and he would have to refine his acting skills to assure her that everything at university was just peachy. It was something he was rather acclimated to by now; lying about how life really was going.

Concerning his parents was one of last things he wished to do, so he kept quiet about the issues and simply focused on his studies instead. The only person that easily saw through him was Mycroft, but he knew just as well as Sherlock that upsetting Mummy was out of the question.

Sherlock fished his mobile out of the back pocket of his jeans and unlocked it to text Mycroft.

I should just drop out of uni now. SH