What Next?

Chapter 8

A/N Hey I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while you guys! I've been suffering from a huge writting block! I hope you enjoy the next installment of 'What's Next?'! Oh, I'm posting a Christmas chapter on Wednesday night after the Doctor Who Christmas special if I survive that long! Also if you like Doctor Who then read my fanfiction 'Alone no More'! Thanks- AR

Shelock's POV

Lilly disappeared into her room when she emerged a moment later with a large stack of what appeared to be Nancy Drew books. Her being OCD they would be in chronological order. Lilly seemmed to struggle under the weight of the books and I being the good fathe I am went and took the stack from her and put them on the kitchen table. I picked up the top book and read the cover, 'Book one: The Secret of the Old Clock' "I think this is our first clue. We'll be getting a client with a case somewhere along the story line of that book. We will have to take it." Lilly says taking the book from me and sitting on the couch. "What I don't understand is why give us a clue? Why's he doing all of this. I mean I get that it's a game, but we already know what his move is. It's like when we were little Uriah and I would play chess and I not knowing any better would say all my moves out loud and he'd always win. Do you remember that?" Lilly smiled and I laughed at the memory.

Lilly's POV

John came through the door, looked at Dad chuckling and cleared his throat. Dad instantly regained his emotionless expression and I giggled at John's shocked face, "What," I asked, " did you really think he didn't have any emotions once so ever?" He turned beet red and walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cuppa. He went to get the sugar and I looked at Dad knowing that he had a sugar experiment going on. John pulled out the bag i looked at Dad who wore an impish grin and John whipped his head around looking at me as i laugh grabbing my sides. "Lilly, Sherlock, care to tell me why there's a severed finger in the sugar?" Dad looked at him completely emotionless, " It's an experiment. Don't mess it up like you did with my sock index." "I wouldn't have had to mess it up if I wasn't afraid that you were back on your drugs." I sighed and left.

I shut my door as an argument broke out in the kitchen downstairs. I picked up my violin and started to play canon in D as loud as I possibly could. I was holding the last note when I heard a crash behind me and felt pain in my head before everything went black.

Sherlock's POV

I heard a crash and a thud as the music in Lilly's room was cut off by the loud squeal of a bow being dragged across the strings of a violin. Something was wrong. I leapt from my seat by the fire and ran to Lilly's room. I opened the door and there found the window smashed in and Lilly lying on the ground. Beside her was an old clock that apparently hit her in the back of the head judging by the fact her head was bleeding and the clock had blood on it. I picked Lilly up and found her bow and violin had both been crushed. I layed her on the bed. "John bring the first aid kit Lilly's been hit with a clock!" "I don't belive you.I'm not coming up until you appologize." "Did I menion it's bleeding- a lot." Seconds later John was tending to Lilly and I had already picked up the clock with gloved hands to investigate. I didn't know what to do. This was something Lilly would know. I stopped when I heard her groan.

Lilly's POV

I groaned as I sat up in my bed. I glanced at dad who was holding an old clock in his hand. I grinned, "Bring me a small screwdriver and some gloves." John looked at me confused. I rolled my eyes, "It's part of the Nancy Drew books thing. Uriah's given us a clue! Oh, it's Christmas! " Dad looks worriedly at me. John gets up, "Oh, could you bring me my nicotine patches? Thank you John." All I get in return is a sigh. Off to my left dad chuckles, "You sounded just like me and that worries John." "I know, but I do take after you I can't help it. It's purely genetics." We sit in silence until John comes with the objects I requested. 

I first take the patches. I slap three onto my arm and sigh I hadn't worn one in a few hours and I hadn't realized how drained I felt. "Do you really need three?" John asked exasperated. "It's a three patch problem." I stated simply an put on the gloves. I walked over to dad and took the clock, "Brand new, made to look old, exactly like the one in the book except the blood on the corner. Who's blood is that?" John sighs, "It's yours from when it went through the window." "Oh, that makes more sense." I grabbed my glasses that apparently had been taken off me . "John would you hand me that screwdriver?" I took the tool from his hand and silently openned the face and openned the secret compartment that I knew from my knowledge of the book wold be there. I pull out an old notebook. "Ha! I got it!" Both John had fallen asleep and dad had been watching me with intense concentration were snapped back to reality. John fell out of his chair. "What did you say?" I held up the notebook, "I found the notebook, see?" "Oh, well it's three in the morning I'm going to bed and so are you. You have a slight concussion and I'm not risking you making it worse." "I'm fine John. Dad where's my violin?" Dad looked at me guilt flashing across his face. "Well you kind of fell on it when you got hit." He showed me my ruined violin. I couldn't hold the tears back they came silently down my face as I took my once beautiful violin in my hands. It wasn't fixable neither was my bow. I hung my head. "I'm going to bed."

Sherlock's POV

I looked at my daughter who's heart had been crushed along with her beautiful instrument. I escorted John from her room. After I shut the door I heard soft sobs coming from behind the door. My heart broke, that violin was her best friend and now even that was gone. "Why is she crying over a couple pieces of wood?" John asked not fully understanding what was going on as usual. I roled my eyes and turned to him, "That wasn't just a couple pieces of wood you idiot. That was her violin. I gave it to her when she was five and that was her bow that I had engraved with her name. Those 'pieces of wood' as you called them were her best friends they were always there for her and now they're gone and we can't fix them." I then looked at my phone it was December 22. I smiled we might not be able to fix them, but we can at least replace them. They wouldn't have the sentimental  value of the other ones, but she would be able to play them. "I'll be back. I've got to go Christmas shopping." I grabbed my coat, put on my favorite blue scarf, and left my friend standing in our living room confused as ever.