His Return and Her Fall ((Parent!Lock))

Chapter Five - The Fault in Our Friends

Breath-taken, John nearly falls to the floor as Sherlock only stares to the scared child. Scared as in crying, shaking, panicked, heart pounding in his ears, and the lack of concern to push up his glasses. 

"G-Gone?!" John shouts, Sherlock still standing there. "What do you mean, 'gone'? Gone like she isn't there and the window is open and there's signs of struggle?!"

Hamish shrugs, running back into the room, the two following to see Haley weakly stepping from the toilet and into the bedroom once more, a little appalled to see them all there. "What've I done now?" she asks, John sighing and embracing her tightly. 

"Oh thank God you're alright," he cries into her, Sherlock hitting Hamish in the back of the head, his glasses falling to the floor. 

"You know your father is having a rough time with this, Hamish. Don't be inconsiderate. Next time, be aware of the situation and don't inference so quickly," Sherlock snaps, Hamish nodding as he picks up the glasses and puts them back against his face. John lets go of Haley, hearing her wheeze tightly. He was hugging her a little too long. 

"Dad, Dad, I'm fine," she managed to get out, John crying with joy now. "I was just going to the loo for a bit. Girls have to pee sometimes, too, you know."

John nods, backing away and walking out, leaving her to collect herself and join them at the kitchen table, Sherlock laying out the plates of noddles for them all. Haley sits contently in her seat, back to the second door into their flat. Hamish hits with his back to the stove, across from her. Sherlock sits facing the fridge, John facing the windows. This is how it's always been for the four, even for the three.

John looks back on the first days with young Haley, how when they were eating dinner, Irene made them all sit around the table like a nice family instead of eating whenever they wanted wherever they wanted. Then when Sara and John finally had Hamish, it was a long wait to get the girl to move spots, for Hamish wanted hers. 

She glares at the younger brother, then smiles, making him smile. It was always her to lighten the mood when the table was quiet. Even in deadly situation,s, such as this, she kept the night sky glowing happily.

"Papa, have you called Mr. Moriarty yet?" Hamish asks, looking to Sherlock. The consulting detective shakes his head, taking a sip of his water. He hadn't even touched his food. 

"I've been admittedly afraid to, Misha. I can't bear to hear a man's voice once they know of their own child's death."

John looks up to Sherlock, stricken hard by his words and tears threaten their appearance. He swallows them down, taking a bite of his pasta as Haley sneaks a mushroom from her father's plate, making Hamish laugh in return. Sherlock grabs her wrist, lifting the fork to his mouth and eating the mushroom off of it, making her squeal.

"Gross, Daddy!" she calls, laughing. This makes them all laugh, for the time they have in the nice setting. 

"Then don't take the mushrooms from my plate!" he shouts, smashing his fists upon the table, laughing to the children and making John laugh louder. 

"Don't break the table," John scolds, picking up his glass to prevent it from spilling.

"Do not ever take the mushrooms from my plate, or I will.... I will tickle Misha until he pisses himself!"

"Language," John shouts, the children laughing again. "Do not curse around Hamish, Sherlock. You know better."

"But, BUT DAD," Sherlock plays, Haley coughing now and jumping from her seat. Sherlock runs after her, the laughter from his eyes instantly pulled away from him, as well as John's and Misha's. 

"Don't let her get the kit! Inhaler only!" John calls, looking to Hamish who nervously eats an olive. "I wish he didn't do these things. She's so easy to catch nowadays, isn't she?" he asks his son, getting a single, firm nod.

"Dad, what will we do when they take her?" the boy asks out of the blue. 

"They will never take her," he answers, looking to the hall as Sherlock and Haley come back, the tall man patting the tall girl's back gently, saying his sorriest words and helping her sit. "Because, no one ever dares with the Holmes and Watsons. Everyone knows that," he says with a flamboyant flick of his wrist, laughing childishly. 

"Oh God, you're gay," Sherlock sneers playfully. John only glares at him, a knock on the door scaring Haley. She sighs, standing and opening the door to see Dalton, Lela's younger brother. Tall, skinny, featured, blue eyed, and very nervous all of the time. 

"Good afternoon, Haley," he grins For years he's had this major crush on the girl, and now was showing it more than ever. 

"Dalton, now is not a very good time. We're having supper, and you were not invited," she protests. "Plus, why are you even here? Lela never lets you out of the house at this time of night."

"I know," he says, fixing the jumper he had on, matching the tan of the trousers he was sporting, as well as his black and grey Nike trainers. "But, Lela wanted me to be sure to hand you this," he says, pulling an envelope from his back pocket and handing it to her. She looks it over, then to him. 

"Goodnight, Dalton," she says, "And tell Lela she could have just given me this tomorrow at class."

"She was insisting that it was before then, my love," he says as she slams the door in his face. 

"Have to be so creepy, doesn't he?" she asks herself, sitting back down and holding the envelope into the light. A letter, nothing more, nothing less. "I'm going to go read this real quick, Dad, and don't take my olives. Hell will rain upon you..." she walks off, opening the seal, leaving the boys there in quiet.

"She's just like you, Sherlock. Everything's going to hell and you have the simplest face you can, as if nothing's of the matter. She doesn't know of the flash drive at all. She knows she's going to be taken."

"But she won't," Sherlock protests, taking all of the olives from her plate and putting them on Hamish's. "She will not be taken and I will be sure of it. Okay?"

John sighs, looking t Hamish who switches his plate with Haley's. "Alright, my love," he replies, not wanting his anymore. "When she comes back, will you get the ice-lollies? I'm starting to think that dinner first was a bad-"

"Don't spoil the children, John." 

"Yes, Sherlock..."