The Life of Sherlocks Daughter

Chapter 8

"WHAT? THEY CAN'T SEND YOU BACK! Not now. It'll break Sherlock and I don't want you to leave. I won't let you leave." I had made up my mind that John wasn't going back to Afghanistan. It would ruin John's life, having to go back, to be put through all that pain again, and it wold ruin our little messed up family after all the pain and heart ache we had been through together, they wanted to split us up again.

"Don't tell Sherlock about this, not just yet. I'll talk to Mycroft first before we tell him." John just nodded and walked to his room. As soon as I had heard his door shut, I picked up my phone and called Mycroft. I won't talk about the specifics of what I said to him but there were a lot of colourful choices. When I had finished ranting to him and I had calmed down, he told me that he would see what he could do. Apparently being the British government didn't account for anything and he couldn't get John's call for action revoked.

The flat door burst open before I could walk to John's room to tell him the news. Sherlock glided in with a plastic carrier bag that said 'St Bartholomew's Hospital' on the side and I could tell from the way that it smelled, that Molly had just given him some new human body parts to experiment with. "What is it? What's wrong?" he said noticing that my eyes had glazed over and a few tears had already made their way down my cheeks "John...John's been called. He has to go back."

The silence that filled the room was horrendous. The tears kept falling as Sherlock pulled me into a hug. John finally broke the silence by speaking up. "So you've heard then, Sherlock, about my situation?" Sherlock, not trusting his voice at the minuet, just nodded. "And don't bother with that brother of yours, TJ has already tried to get through to him, but to no avail." They both turned to look at me, Sherlock's eyes willing me to lie and say that it had been revoked that everything was fine, but I just couldn't. "I'm sorry Sherlock, it's true."

The rest of the night was a blur and somehow I had made it to my bed as I woke up in familiar surroundings. Then memories came flooding back. John. Were was John? I searched the entire flat but there was no sign of him any where. I walked into the kitchen and saw the letter addressed to me and Sherlock on the table.

Dear Sherlock + TJ,

I'm sorry I had to leave but the recruitment was for today and I had known for months. Mycroft has also been trying to help me for months also so don't blame this on him.

TJ, ever since you where a tiny baby, who Mrs Hudson found on our step, to the fine young lady you have grown to be today, I am happy to say that you were the daughter I never had. You are brilliant, just like your father and slightly more human than him, but don't tell him I said that, he'll kill me.

Sherlock, thank you for saving me and even though people think that you don't have a heart, I know that this is wrong. From the way that you raised TJ to the way that you almost half killed a man for laying a finger on Mrs Hudson. It has been a pleasure knowing you and I hope to see you again someday,

I wish you all the luck and tell Mrs Hudson that she was a great landlady and I love you all dearly,

John x

John never did return and a couple of moths after he was deployed we got a knock on the door from two military captains. I knew straight away what they were going to say and so did Sherlock. We had John's funeral a few weeks later and everyone came. Everyone who had ever worked with John at NSY and Lestrade and even Anderson and Donovan turned up. At the end it was only me and Sherlock left, everyone else had gone home to grieve in private. For Sherlock the pain will never go away and I knew that. I kept a close eye on him in the following months, for any 'danger days' but there were none.

That was until I nipped out to get some milk and on they way back to 221B I saw an ambulance out side. I tried to push my way in but the paramedics stopped me. "We can't let you in, miss. There's been a suicide." As soon as the words had left his mouth I collapsed on the floor. I couldn't cope anymore, left the milk where I dropped it and ran.

I ran as far as I could and stayed there until the next morning when I decided to return to 221B. I had to have one last look at the flat before I left for good. That was when I found the note that Sherlock had left me in my room. The note told me everything I ever wanted to know about my real mum and her identity, which he promised to tell me on my eighteenth birthday, which happened to be today. The note read:

Dear TJ,

I'm sorry that it had to end this way but I couldn't face fact that John was never coming back and that you had to look after me while I was in such a state. That is why I sent you to get milk. I couldn't have you at home while I was doing this as I'm sure you would've heard me.

I always keep my promises and as it will soon be your eighteenth, I will tell you the identity of your real mother. As you know, it was during a case when you where conceived. This was to one of my old acquaintances, Molly Hooper, who you know and love. She kept the pregnancy a secret by going away for a few months to one of our family homes in Scotland. I didn't know that she would place you on our doorstep, but I'm glad she did.

Please don't follow in my footsteps as it is a lonely life and one I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Love Sherlock.

After all the legal procedures had took place, I went to Sherlock's funeral. I had now buried both of my fathers, in the space of a couple of weeks. Mycroft tried to make me go with him but I ran. I knew he would be watching but I didn't care. I made my way to the roof of St Bart's and this is where my story ends. This blog was meant to help me remember everything but now it has turned into my note.

That's what people do isn't it? They leave notes.