Young Sherlock

Chapter Two

'Dead?' The young girl breaks my train of thought, she is kneeling infront of me now, her eye shining, but not from tears.

'Yes, he..um..commited suicide fifteen years ago'

There was a short pause before she answered me, it was almost as though she was working it through in her head

'What date?'

'What?'

'What date, did he kill himself' 

'May 4th'

'I was born January 13th, that's 8 months and 9 days after his death, I think it possible that he and my mother concieved my a couple of days, maybe a week before his death'

'May I ask, who actually is your mother?'

'Molly Hooper'

'OH'

'Oh?'

'And your name is?'

'Sandy Hooper-Holmes'

'Oh how inventive'

'Excuse me?'

'Nothing'

Sandy sits on the floor, cup of tea in hand, staring at me, her gaze burning into my eyes. Only now do I realise how alike Sherlock she is, her very presence is reminding me of him, the way she is sat frowning into her cup of tea, her posture, her eyes, everything about her screams Sherlock. I always knew he had something for Molly, and it was quite obvious she felt the same way, so obviously she wouldn't miss an opportunity to jump into bed with him. Oh how I wish he was here, so I could ask him how in Gods name it happened, who made the first move, where it happened, little things like that, it sounds so simple but to me it is a rare convosation to have with Sherlock, even when he was alive he would never talk about any kind of relationship. I wonder is Mycroft knows that he is an uncle, I doubt it.

'Shh' The young girl is still frowning into her cup but with her eyes shut

'I didn't say anything'

'You were thinking, it's distracting'

'You know, I think Sherlock might be your father after all, everything about you reminds me of him, and I knew him better than anyone'

'Boring fact'

'There, you see, Mary, don't you see?'

'John, love, I think you might be making things up, I think its best you go now, Miss Hooper'

'You can call me Sandy you know' The girl stands up, put the cup on the table and grabs her coat, as she puts it on she flicks the collar up

'Merry Christmas'

'Sandy, where are you staying?' I jump up, I need to see Molly

'With my mother, why?'

'Mind if I come? I haven't seen Molly in a while, it would be good to see her again'

'Oh whatever, get your coat' She sighs

Once I come out of the bedroom she has already set off down the stairs, her black coat flowing behind her, this is all too much, she is a younger Sherlock, definatly. We stand on the curb in silence waiting for a taxi, we have to wait about 10 minutes because it is almost 10 o'clock, so the taxis are getting fewer. Eventually a taxi goes past and Sandy steps out, with one arm outstretched.

'41 Kessington Avenue'

We sit in silence for the next five minutes, she is staring out of the window just watching everything go past, I wonder what she's thinking.

'So, is your mother married? Any more kids?' She turns around to face me, her lips turned up slightly at the sides

'No, but you are, John'

'No, I wasn- Thats not why I asked'

'I'm sure it isn't, she never got married, or had anymore kids, I guess maybe she never got over my dad, but she hardly ever talks about him anymore, the only time she mentions him is when I get on her nerves and she tells me how alike him I am'

We sit in silence for the rest of the way, then we arrive at her house, its just an ordinary house, plain door, plain windows, a single white door bell. Sandy opens up the door and walks inside, calling out to her mother.

'Mom! I'm back! You have a visitor!'

'Just a second Sandy!' Mollys voice comes from upstairs, the same as I remember it

Sandy wanders off into what I'm guessing is the kitchen and I hear a glass clink, I stay standing in the hallway waiting for Molly. After about 5 minutes she comes floating down the stairs, her copper hair back off her face in a bun, wearing casusal clothes, she looked like the same Molly I remember from fifteen years ago, but there is a sadness about her, her eyes look sad, but she is smiling.

'John!'

'Molly, it's so good to see you after all this time'

'Oh I know! The last time we saw eachother was, hum! The funeral I think, fifteen years ago' She leads me past the stairs into the sitting room, and I take a seat in a large armchair and she sits across from me

'Its been such a long time, how are you? Whats new?' A piece of hair falls out of her bun and she tucks it neatly back behind her ear

'Oh I'm fine, me and Mary got married, I'm sorry I didn't invite you, it was a small wedding, only a few family memebers'

'Oh its fine! So is married life good? I always thought I'd get married, and have more children, and we could all live in a big house in the countryside, just the family. But insted I'm here, single, with a fifteen year old girl who's father I loved, and still to this day love. Every time I look at her John, I see him, her eyes, her cheekbones, her hair, her witt, everything, and it pains me even more each day I am without him, but I see her face. Sometimes I wish I could forget about him, and I tried for a little while, when Sandy went off to school, I forgot, I went to work, I got on with life as usual, I even went on a couple of dates, but as soon as she came back, he came back with her, all the memories, everything. It's a nightmare I keep running from, and no matter how long I run, I can never escape it'

'Molly, I'm so-'

'She has his...talent, should I call it? His ability to deduce just by observing, she does it too. Another thing that reminds me of him. I once tried to go on a date without her knowing, and when I got back she deduced the whole date to me and in the end told me not to keep secrets and then she went to her room, but not to sleep, she just lays there'

'Sherlock did the exact same, he hardly ever slept, he would just lay there, thinking'

I lean over and put an arm around the sobbing Molly who is dabbing her eyes with a tisue. I guess when Sherlock left he didn't realise how much damage he would have on everyone, not only me, but every single person he ever met, he had an impact on, everyone knows the name 'Sherlock Holmes' some for good reasons, some for worse reasons, either way, he had an impact on everyones life in some kind of way, even if it wasn't directly.

'I have to ask, when did you and Sherlock...you know?'

'Oh, it was just after a long shift, he told me that I did matter, and then everything I did mattered to him, and that he always cared about me, then he told me he knew he was going to die, so we just..did it, I guess, I don't remember much else. You would be better of asking him, he probably would remember every tiny detail of the night' She chuckled lightly

'How did Sandy not know that her dad was dead?'

'She did'

'Then why did she come to me asking for help?'

'Because she didn't believe me, or anyone else that told her, she thought it was just a big scam, that he was really alive somewhere, and she thought if he was indeed still alive that he would be living with you'

'Oh how I wish that was true Molly'