Sherlock's Daughter

Withdrawal

A/N: FINISHED WITH EXAMS

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I am sweating like crazy, my hands are shaking, my head is pounding like a freight train is running into it every second. I can't focus in on anything. I feel like I'm about to puke. Before the vomit ejects itself from my weak body I hobble over to the toilet and get on my knees. I need the drugs. Now. I open my door and hold tight to the rail on the stairs, I make it to the living room where I find Dad on his computer and Sherlock laying on the couch with 4 patches on his arm, of course. When I stumble into the room John glances and up Sherlock flips his eyes open, both pairs of eyes locked on my pale, sickly face.

John runs to me, "What's wrong?" Dad says grabbing my currently stitched up arm and I wince, John loosens the grip.

"I need my drugs." I beg for John to give me the drugs, unfortunately since he lives with Sherlock he has gotten really good at hiding things so I haven't been able to find them.

"No." John hasn't spoken to me in 2 days. I feel horrible, in every sense of the word.

"Dad, please." I beg.

"No." John leaves the room. I sigh and wait for Sherlock to say something, but he is in his mind palace. 

Sherlock monotonously informs me, "I know you have 7 grams hidden upstairs. Because when you but drugs, dealers only deal in bulks not individual grams. And usually its 10 grams."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I see Sherlock smirk and I trudge upstairs and grab my phone and text Jensen.

To: Jensen

Want to come to my room say 11:00 tonight?

-SH

I find the rillos and roll up one and begin to smoke. The relief in my body is sensational. I feel like I can breathe now. I hear my parents debating downstairs.

"Sherlock, we can't let her do this to herself." John complains as Sherlock sits there on the couch with his hands place under his chin, like in prayer.

"Look, remember my bad days? People like Me and her, we-the world is boring-to easy to deduct, you know everything within five minutes of knowing someone. The world of drugs is just to get a rush, the risk of dying, the world you enter. It's all just another challenge." Sherlock speaks true gospel as I nod in agreement. My mind still buzzing and the world slightly spinning.

"I don't want her like that Sherlock, she has the capability to show her emotions but she feels like she isn't able. " Dad's voice cracks, and I hear him gulp tears down.

About 5 minutes later I come down, feeling a lot better. Thankfully, John will never know. And Sherlock, well he knows. He's Sherlock. I turn around to go ask Mrs. Hudson for some tea, but I run straight into Lestrade.

"Sorry!" I giggle and fall down. When I get back up Lestrade takes me shoulder and leads me downstairs, I look up at the two parents, my mien is full of confusion. I slowly begin to deduct their reactions, Sherlock is unreadable, John has a expression that presents relief and he is toying with his jumper sleeve, so that means he is nervous, Sherlock then finally shows a slight grin, this means that Sherlock is proud. So clearly I'm about to go do something.