Natalie

The Empty Chair

I woke up the next morning and looked quickly at the chair. The empty chair. I sighed and made my way upstairs. I walked into the kitchen to make my own tea. Never as good as John's, but the best I could do. He was moved in with his current, and very serious girlfriend. I plopped onto the couch, pulling out the laptop. Boring. I scrolled through my emails. Easy. I searched desperately for a case. The boyfriend did it. Well, a good case. Obvious. Come on, give me something! And nothing. I sighed and put the computer onto the table. I took a shower and dressed. I'll go visit Molly. And tell her about the dream.

I walked down to the hospital, the long way, as to avoid the side I watched Sherlock fall from. I went to Autopsy and saw the 'BioHazardous' sign flashing. I knocked on the window."Molly?"

"Sorry, Natty! We've got a weird one in here, I'll call you in later." She smiled and I was off again. I'll go visit John and Mary. No, no. They wouldn't want me to just show up at their door. I went home and upstairs. I flopped onto the couch again. BORED. Experiments? No, I'm already running sixteen. No one to visit. No case. Uuugggghhhhh. I turned on the Telly, for lack of better options. Nothing there either. I decided to retreat into my mind. Sherlock taught me, he called his 'his Mind Palace'. mine was a little less extravagant. I wondered through the streets of London, looking again at the faces and deductions. Everyone else's stories. I could look at someone and tell so much, but still so little. I could tell you a chapter of their story, but never the whole book. And it both intrigued and frustrated me. I was deducing a pregnant waitress with a baby already at home, husband in the service, I almost sympathized for her, but I heard it. "Natalie? Natalie?" It was an unmistakeable voice echoing through my mind. And I was determined to find it. I soared in and out of everywhere. Where are you?! Where?!? I ranand ran and ran a little more. "I've been through every corner. Dad, WHERE ARE YOU?!" I called out, afraid of losing him again. The tears made their way slowly down my cheeks. I've checked everywhere!! Wait. Unless, no. No, he couldn't be. I snapped my eyes open. "D-dad?" I croaked, staring up at the face above me. I didn't even need his confirmation, I sat up and hugged him as tight as I could. It wasn't a dream. THIS isn't a dream. I smiled and didn't let go, still too afraid he would disappear. "Are you r-real?" I whispered, my body shaking like my voice.

He nodded. "Very, Nat. That was me last night. That was me when you were having nightmares by the grave. That was me that called Molly. That was me that bundled you up every time it was cold. And listen to me, Nat." He looked deep into my eyes. "It was not your fault." He said clearly. "Not in the slightest. You were just another part of his plan. He used you, and that was his first mistake. It was also his last." He smiled a little, standing. "Now, how about we go get you something to eat, I'm a bit peckish myself." He winked and tightened his scarf.

We left the flat and walked down the street. "Wait, John and Molly and-"

"Molly has known. Before you get angry with her, it was my fault. I told her not to tell you, I had to keep you safe, even if that meant in the dark. She came very close to telling you anyway, but she let me. As for John-"

"So I wasn't the only one you were protecting." I smirked and then suddenly stopped, drawing his attention. "John is going to kill you. Like literally kill you."

He resumed walking and scoffed, smiling. "I'll be alright."

I gasped and caught up with him. "He's proposing tonight! I saw the ring in his pocket and he polished his shoes and tied his own bow-tie and-"

Sherlock started to chuckle, "You're still clever as always I see." He looked sideways at me, the smirk still plastered on his face.

I beamed up to him. "I just can't help it, I'm just that good." I giggled, and for the first time in ages. "I'm glad you're home, Dad. Really glad."

"Me too, Natty." He smiled down at me, one of his genuine smiles that only I was the usual recipient of. "I did miss being called Dad." He admitted.

"Only because I'm the one that does it." I smirked as we entered the restaurant. Dad showed off and the expecting father left his post and we just walked in. I saw Mary go toward the rest room and followed, letting Sherlock do his thing. "Mary!" I whispered as I walked in.

"Natalie, is that you?" She came out of the stall smiling. I met her at the sink, beaming. She looked over at me. "So you've figured it out too?"

"Yes!" I said excited, waving my hands.

"I'd better get back out there then!" She dried her hands and scurried off.

I walked out just in time, there goes Dad, right onto his bum.

I walk over to an angry and upset John being calmed down by Mary. "Now, I know pointing and saying I told you so is rude and childish, but you are my father." I smirked down at him, one side of a drawn on mustache still on his face. "Dad, I told you so. Man, I missed saying that." I helped him to his feet. "I would suggest you finish explaining why you were gone so long before John and I flip a coin for who punches you next." And cue the cheeky grin.