Once everyone was up (I mean out of bed), a final lunch was prepared, and we were all heading back to the beach for one last bit of fun. Or not. Depending on whether you were a certain 5 yr old.
We ate lunch, then, because Mycroft, his Mum and John had to have some serious discussions about Mycroft's new school, and what would happen regarding him boarding there and things, Sherlock and I headed off to have our talk.
John gave Sherlock a very stern warning not to hit me in the face (or anywhere else). "Why not? Other people can."
We walked up the beach, then sat down. And as I started he promptly ran off. Luckily, while I may be slow, my legs are considerably longer than his. So I caught him. Then we sat down again, him in front of me, with my arms wrapped around him, to prevent further escape attempts.
So he resorted to kicking my legs. Which, conveniently, was exactly what I wanted to talk to him about - well, him kicking John. So we discussed why he did it "I hate him, and you", what he thought it would achieve "Make you go away" and all sorts of things about violence. And I think I convinced him we weren't going to go away, and he wasn't going to achieve anything by doing it (except the continued confiscation of his chemistry set - he hasn't had that back yet, since the stink bomb incident), and the possibility of no future swimming trips for him. And we talked about non-violent ways to express his displeasure. And then why he hated us. "I hate you and your job and wish you were dead." (I pointed out that he was intelligent enough to know that wasn't a reason, just a statement). He didn't seem to have a reason for that, in the end. I think part of it is that we're 'letting' Mycroft go away to school. But to admit that would be to admit he might miss Mycroft (whom he 'hates' too.) So we didn't get quite that far at that point.
Then we threw some rocks into the sea, to get rid of some excess energy. And then threw rocks at sticks, to knock them over. And then rocks at piles of rocks...yeah. Lots of rock throwing. Quite big rocks.
And we talked about Mycroft's school, and how it was important that Mycroft went to a good school - just like it was important Sherlock did. And we were all sad that it meant Mycroft wouldn't live at home all the time now, but that he needed to stay at school to do all the things there. "What things?" (I considered this a victory. A question about the place surely means some acceptance of it?) And then we talked about the things he could do with John, when Mycroft wasn't there, and John had more time to do things with him (find him a chemistry tutor, maybe? Teach him to ride a bike before Mycroft came back for his first holiday, so Mycroft would never see that Sherlock couldn't do it...). And we ended with him acknowledging that whatever he did, he wasn't going to change the fact that Mycroft was going to school in September. And the rest of us would all miss him, even if Sherlock wouldn't. And we would all talk to him on the phone and on here. And I swear he almost said he would to, before realising what he might be admitting...
He even sat on my shoulders for some of the walk back. (More owing to fatigue than anything else, i think. He may hate me, but I'm a good taxi.)
And once we were back, immediately took refuge behind Danger, and announced I was "mean and horrible". And then wouldn't speak to me. But kept glowering at me. Which I think means he's thinking about what we talked about. And he hasn't kicked anyone. But he has stamped his feet when we were leaving (I told him foot-stamping was acceptable as an alternative to kicking any sentient beings. Sorry Mrs Hudson, for any plaster he dislodges from your ceiling.)
On a far brighter note, he did actually seem like he was pleased to see me when he realised I was there on Saturday night (he was asleep when I actually got there, but woke a little later) and gave me the picture he'd drawn me:
Amazing, isn't it? It's going up on the fridge. Thank you, Sherlock.
And expressed some interest in my bruises "Why are your eyes black if you got hit in the nose?" and "Can I touch them?", which we discussed some more during the entire 'violence' discussion. Because he is obviously uncomfortable with people having physical injuries, even if he doesn't mind doling them out when he can't see the effects. He also doesn't actually like upsetting other people...he just doesn't seem to really notice he does it.
Anyway, only time will tell. He did allow me to give him a hug when Danger and I went to tuck him in for bed. Meaning he wouldn't respond, but didn't stop me. I daresay a few gruesome murder related bedtime stories will get me back in his good books.