August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Twenty-One: Ireland

The next morning Sherlock had told me he had gotten tickets for me, John, and him to go to Ireland. I appreciated that John wanted to come and support me despite being busy with work and the wedding planning. John just had this calming era about him.

I woke up at 6 AM to get ready. I put makeup on in the first time in forever. I covered my dark underlies with foundation, and put blush on my pale cheeks. I will admit, it was an improvement.

I put a dark long sleeved tee shirt on with a denim jacket. I wanted to be comfortable during the flight.

I went downstairs a few minutes later after having showered. John was downstairs and was making breakfast. I managed to gulf down the pancakes and eggs he had made me. Sherlock looked pleased when I was finished.

Our flight leaves at 8. Of course Mycroft went all out and got us a private plane. As cool as it was, I couldn't help the guilt of how much fuel is being used for only three people.

"Are you ready?" Sherlock looked down at me.

"As ready as I can be. I packed a week's worth of stuff. I guess that should be enough." I looked down at my duffle bag I had managed to cram my clothes and toiletries into.

"Hopefully." Sherlock muttered.

Before I knew it, the three of us were sitting in the seats of the plane, ready for takeoff. I gnawed on my fingernails. I haven't been to Ireland since I was 13.

"August? You've been quiet." Sherlock commented.

"Just thinking." I looked down at my phone. It's been about 55 minutes. We should be stopping in Dublin soon.

"I've never been to Ireland." John said, hoping to lift the mood.

"Nor have I." Sherlock said, pouncing his leg up and down.

I remained silent until we made it to our destination. There, a private cabby had came to pick us up and drop us off to my childhood home. I was nervous about seeing my old neighborhood again.

"It'll be alright." Sherlock said to me, his expression was soft and a slight smile placed on his lips.

I smiled back. "I hope so."

I looked out the windows as I saw familiar building pass us by.

"That's where I use to go to school!" I pointed to a brick building that was slowly growing smaller in the distance.

"Nice." John said, looking out the window as well.

The cabby slowly pulled into the driveway of my house. The white, two story house looked the same as always. Except all the flowers my mum had planted outside the house had withered away and died.

I gradually stepped forward, Sherlock and John right behind me.

Before I touched the doorknob I hesitated. It's been touched recently.

"Sherlock... the doorknob." I gestured for his attention. "It's been touched recently."

Sherlock came and crouched near the knob. "You're right. Let me go in first."

I gave Sherlock the key I had gotten in the mail months back and stood to the side. Sherlock opened the door and slowly pushed it open. Him and John took a couple steps inside and looked around.

"It's clear." John called to me.

I walked inside and looked around. Everything was how we left it. Cookbooks were scattered across the kitchen bar, a couple dishes were in the sink, creating it's own ecosystem by now. Dust was everywhere, except for the living room.