Sherlock's Daughter

The Desolation of My Social Life.

Completely unedited. I'm just trying to update because it may be awhile before I get back to it because of finals.







"Wait here. " A security guard demands as I am chained to a chair in an interrogation room. I am well aware to the fact that Jensen is in the adjacent Interrogation room, being interviewed by Lestrade and his crew. I'm not all that sure why we are being interviewed, usually stuff like this you get sent straight to the cells. I hear a chair get thrown in the other room, Lestrade probably advised Jensen go to a Children's Home, If I know Jensen itn thing he won't stand for is going into foster care. His parents put his little brother in foster care and a month later they got a report saying Jensen's little Brother, Charlie, had died of malnutrition. A slamming open of a door awakes me from me drowning in thoughts of Jensen.

"We are doing something special just for you, miss Holmes. " Donovan laughs loudly, clearly fake because to much force is being out into his breath.

"What? This? Sure, this shit is great, but not as great as the gossip I have for you." I smirk leaning in on the table, so yeah I'm a horrible person to Donovan, but 5 years ago she was partially responsible for causing Sherlock to fall off a building and fake his death. John and I went through so much pain-mostly, John because Sherlock and I only had moments. Not years.

"Yes, But, we are doing a full interrogation on you, if we are going to be so honest, you have 15 charges that have been brought up against you recently." Donovan pulls out a long white sheet of paper that has each of my charges neatly typed onto the unwrinkled sheet of paper.

"Oh yay, it's not like I can't just lie my way through it. I mean seriously, I out smart you people on a daily basis." I laugh, fidgeting with my cuffs. I notice that Anderson didn't fully clip my injured cuff. I smirk and keep it a little secret.

"Miss Holmes, is it true that you participate regularly in recreational drug use?" Donovan asks.

"No this was my first time." I lie, I can basically here the symphony of laughs behind the glass.

"Miss Holmes, are you the daughter of Sherlock and John?

"Yes. It's as true as the fact that Jared is fucking Lestrade's son. No one bothered to fucking tell me that. Or maybe they just fucking forgot about me...as usual." I sigh and yank my hand out of the cuff, sprinting for the door. Sherlock burst the room and all I see in Sherlock's eyes are pure hurt. I fight against the guards and my dads, when I feel a sore pain in my jaw I realise they are literally beating me to shut me up. I catch a glimpse of Jensen being released and he gives me a look of "just give up". I settle back down in the interogation chair.

---

"Lestrade, we will take care of her. We promise." John begs to a now pissed off Lestrade.

"Fine. Have her back her in 2 days at 4:00 Am." Lestrades voice drips with anger. WHAT THE FUCK. 4 o'clock. Aw hell naw. I wouldn't get up for that even if there was 5 murders I would get to investigate.

The Watson-Holmes family slips into a cab, I feel the stares of my fathers on me.

"Okay? What ever you are going to say, say it now." I roll my eyes and cross my arms in arrogance.

"Why? After all the mercy he showed you. After all the mercy we showed you. " Sherlock questions, this, this hurts, Sherlock isn't able to answer a question.

"I don't know, I was bored, I didn't want to shoot the wall. Okay, Jensen is my friend, when no one is paying attention to me, which is quite often, he is there. He is always there." I let loose, I watch the words creep through the air waiting to be replied to. John grabs my hand.

"I'm so sorry Spohie, I-We," John looks longingly at Sherlock's freezing blue eyes and then back at my identical eyes, "We always figured you didn't enjoy us, and partly it is our fault, we are always on cases and when we're not, we focus on each other." John express squeezing my hand in apology.

"There has to be consequences for your actions though." Sherlock pops out from his daze and says, "No leaving the house for 4 weeks unless attended by us."

"What about my...," I grit my teeth not wanting to ask my parents if I could have a time to smoke weed and a time to smoke cigarettes, "Stuff?" I say through my teeth.

"You have to figure that out. You are going cold turkey." Sherlock informs me.

"That'll be 15 quid." The cabbie says as we pull up to 221B. We all trail out and I plod up the stairs into my room. I try gather the stuff before the two of them can enter my room. I am unlucky. John looks at the mess in my room and about passes out, Sherlock looks at it with admiration. They begin to bicker about the state of my room.

"Can you leave?" I ask as politely as I can. It is humiliating enough having to get all of this stuff but eith my parents looking over my shoulder. God no. I get about 7 grams of weed and save it, the rest I put in a bag along with the packs of cigarettes from my dresser. I grab the 5 blades that are hideen throughout my room and put them in an envelope. I keep one, just in case. I stomp downstairs where my dads are standing at the Petri dish covered table. I lay the bag on the table. John goes through it and sees the weed and cigs. I see him grab the envelope and he glances inside. He looks up to the sky, I see him holding back tears. 

"What's with him?" I whisper to Sherlock.

"Figure that one out." Sherlock hisses.

"Damn, sorry, didn't mean to upset you." I laugh, knowing that Sherlock isn't really the type to get upset. I hear Sherlock say a few choice words under his breathe.

-- One day later --

I plod downstairs...bored out of my mind to see Sherlock, unsurprisingly, looking into a microscope.

"I have a case for you and me. I don't want you to work it, but if you want exposure this is most definitely the case," Sherlock leans over the table lined with my addictions and his buttons are threatening to break any moment.

"Hell yes I'm in." I smile as Sherlock and I have a stare off to see who is Better.