A Tin Man's Heart (A BBC Sherlock Story)

The sun was up, shining through the leaves of the pine tree. Reflecting off the dew that covered the needles. Glistening in the sunlight like diamonds. The sun also shined down on the tombstone of a man. Who is this man? His name is, Sherlock Homles.

Not only was the sun warming the stone that marked his grave it was also warming the flushed face of a 15 year old girl. She was sat there, in her dress clothes, talking aimlessly to her father. Let me rephrase, to her father's remains.

"You know whenever someone says 'I'm sorry for your loss, dear.' I always give them a curious look and tilt my head to the side. I smile kindly at them and reply, 'I haven't lost anyone. Dad went away for a case. He'll be back soon.' Everyone thinks I'm crazy. But saying your dead would be admitting you aren't coming back, and I'm not willing to do that."

The young Holmes sighed and shook her hair out of her face.

"I got beat up at school a month ago, dad. A week later I tried to hang myself," Tears now began to roll down her cheeks furiously.

"I was too light. John found me, I'd almost did it, I'd almost suffocated myself, dad! I was so overcome with sadness I needed to escape. Damn it all, it didn't work."

Standing a few yards away was Sherlock Holmes. He listened to all the ramblings of his teenage daughter everytime she came to visit his grave. Today as he watched the only person in this world who had loved him unconditionally, sob like that he'd felt a bit of sadness as well.

"You know what dad sometimes I think... I think I hate you. You left me here. No explanations. I scream for you at night. I watch you tumble from Bart's every time I shut my eyes. It isn't fair."

Now Addison wasn't only missing her father she was angry. She stood up quickly and glared at the tombstone.

"I think it's time I realized you're dead. Goodbye."

***

Addison sat in the small diner with John Watson. He'd promised to take her to dinner before the ballet recital and here they were. Although now Addison had no appetite however, unlike Sherlock, she ate to please John. After a while of silence Addison said the first thing she thought of.

"I wish Dad could come to see me." Addison blurted. She stared at her food, not daring look at John for fear he'd be upset.. John reached across the table to gently pick up her hand.

"Addie, Sherlock would be so proud of you. He'd brag to Mycroft and Lestrade and anyone who would listen." A ghost of a smile crossed Addison's face and she looked into the soft blue eyes of Dr. Watson.

"Thank you."

***

Sherlock Holmes sat in the very back of the auditorium. His coat collar raised, although no one here recognized him. It was quite dark and he'd snuck inside. He couldn't miss his daughter being the lead in her recital.

Addison was graceful and fluid. She should be she had been dancing since she could walk. It was something Sherlock had put her in at a young age that she thoroughly enjoyed. He smiled, a genuine smile, as slowly his daughter danced.

And he was beyond proud.

***

It was snowing. It was December, December 3. Addison's birthday. That morning John awoke her at noon with a cupcake that contained a candle. Addison smiled gleefully and blew it out. Her wish? For Sherlock to be waiting for her in the living room.

"What do you want to do today?" John asked as he sat on the edge of the young girl's bed. Addison shrugged in response then grinned, "Can we go ice skating?"