Him, Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 11~Family Fights

-----Willow POV---------
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The case we had was boring the kids ran away. Turned out they were all friends and wanted to be the Goonies and find treasure. It wasn't too hard to find them.

Four months have past since then.

"Hey Willow, what are you doing for the holidays?" John is smiling at me and making tea.

"Nothing." I say without removing eye contact with the laptop on my lap.

"Nothing? You have to be doing something. Family? Friends?"

"Nope," I sigh- "nothing."

John doesn't seem to want to question my ways which I am grateful for. John walks to the fridge and exhales deeply.

"Sherlock, where's the milk? Did you even buy it?" He hollers.

"John I'm busy!" Sherlock shouts back from his room.

"Of course you are." He whispers under his breath. "Willow, I'm going to buy some groceries. Would you like to come with?"

"Sorry John, I'm not good with that kind of thing."

"Okay yeah, cool. Um, well, I'll be back later then." He walks out.

"That would have been a good chance to go deduce people." I hear moments later from Sherlock's room.

"Then why didn't you take it." I smile.

"Because I can deduce John, you, and Mrs. Hudson whenever I want."

"Ok then, come out here and deduce me. Show me what you got." I hear shuffling along hardwood floor. Sherlock opens his door and stares at me tiredly then the analyzing starts. He inhales sharply-

"You aren't going to see friends or family. You refuse to go to the store. So you have been avoiding social interaction. Depression? Anxiety? No I don't see that. You're too..... Happy. Not super happy that you ruin a mask of emotion and not too sad to show depression clearly. So  it's obvious there, but what."

"Come on, impress me. Go in deeper." He narrows his eyes at my comment.

"Where did you live before here?" He's finally getting to something.

"Where do you think."

"Based on how you only own five outfits of clothes and how you have no money. I'd say nowhere." He raises his eyebrows less than a fraction of an inch. 

"Well I lived in a flat for a little bit but that was it."

"How long?" He furrows his eyebrows- at me.

"It was for a week." I smile wanly. 

"How long." He demands.

"I said it was for a week." I swallow, hard. I don't want anyone to find out, especially him.

"You're hiding something." His eyes pierce through me like a harpoon through a fish-or a man.

"Yes and don't even bother asking why. I don't like to talk about my past." He nods at my comment, understanding my secrecy.

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Approximately two hours later John is back. He walks in unsteady and unbalanced with loads of groceries. I hurry off the couch to help, Sherlock does nothing to help. I grab two bags from him and ask-

"John, what are you doing. You know we could never finish this before it spoils." I raise an eyebrow.

"I know," He grins. "That's why I am inviting people over." John is smiling from ear to ear. I set the bags on the ground and put my hands on his shoulders.

"Don't worry John, I'll stay in my room the whole time. I won't scare anyone away." I smile wanly and then sigh. "You know what I'll stay in my room right now." I walk to my room at the end of the hall.

"Willow, I want to ask you something about inviting people over." John says shuffling to me.

"If it's for advice don't come to me." I shut the door closing him out. I hope I wasn't too mean. I lay in the bed my feet still on the floor thinking. There is a small knock on the door. I sigh in fake agony.

"Come in John." He opens the door slowly and closes it behind him. He sits next to me with tight lips.

"I want you to invite your family this weekend." He breathes deeply.

"I can't John." I stop goofing around when he says this.

"Yes you can, why wouldn't you. If it's the way they are, I don't care. Invite them anywa-"

"It has nothing to do with that."

"Then what? They're family. There has to be friends you can invite."

"John. Stop. It."

"No. You need to talk to them-"

"John, I can't "  

"No.... What's their number I am going to call them-"

"John!" I shout then my voice lowers. "They're dead, John. Everyone. All of them." I say flatly glaring at him. He looks at me dumbfounded then collects what I have told him. Guilt washes over him.

He tries to speak but nothing comes out. He doesn't make eye contact and then leaves the room. I'm sitting on the bed with my head in my hands. Flashbacks of that very night. Along with the struggling days afterward. Then- then that day I met Sherlock and John. 

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Today's the day John has planned his 'Get together'. I hear the different people outside my bedroom door. I walk into the living room that is slightly full of people I don't know. A couple people glance at me and acknowledging my presence. There is a older man and women asking Sherlock large amounts of question. He rolls his eyes at the questions and mostly answers with a 'Yes.' or 'Fine.'.

His eyes meet mine and he stands walking over to me, grateful for an excuse to leave the people. He stands next to me by the doorframe. 

"Who are these people?" I asked. He looks at me then points to a girl with brown long hair.

"That's Molly Hooper." He points to a man who looks very familiar. "That's Lestrade." The next person he points to makes him disgusted. "That's Mycroft." He points to the couple that he was talking to. "Those are my parents." I cut him off there.

"Wait, Those people," I point to the very nice couple. "Are Your  parents." He rolls his eyes at my exclamation. 

"Yes. And don't you dare-" I walk toward the couple before he says anything else. I sit across of them and smile. It's on Sherlock Holmes.

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