One Month Later... May 20th
"Uh huh." I mumbled, my phone was pressed against my ear. I was pissed. Ever since the wedding, Sherlock being around has been scarce. I figured he was grown enough to handle himself, wherever he was. What I wasn't expecting was John to be calling me and telling me my father was in the streets in a drug house.
"Give me the address, I'll meet you there." I clicked my phone shut and huffed loudly. Thank God Ely was off to school, there's going to be some yelling when I haul Sherlock back.
Once I grabbed a taxi and arrived at the address John had texted me, I stepped out on the gravel to see John and Mary standing outside.
"Hey." I said, noticing Mary's bump was bigger than I last saw it.
"Hey August. You haven't seen your dad around much?" Mary asked.
"No. I thought he was okay. I figured he was a grown up. Obviously not." I replied curtly. I followed John inside, the sound of my black combat boots clicked on the pavement as I walked. We push past a door with a 'PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT' sign and walk in the building. It stunk.
"What'd ya want?" A scrawny guy asked. I looked him up and down. Crackhead. I shoved past him, making his thin figure hit the wall.
"Sorry." Mary said quietly, trying to make up for my abuse.
"Naah, naah, you can't come in 'ere!" The man said after he recovered from me pushing him into a wall.
"We're looking for a friend." John told him. "A very specific friend – We're not just browsing."
I kicked open each door in the house with my boot, anger steaming off me. I made it to the last room and kicked it open. No Sherlock.
"You've gotta go. No-one's allowed 'ere." The man said again, trying to get us to leave.
"Sherlock Holmes. You seen him?" John asked him.
The man takes a knife from his pocket and snaps the blade open, holding it towards us.
"We're asking you if you've seen Sherlock Holmes, and now you're showing me a knife. Is it a clue?" I asked sarcastically, not ready to put up with anybody's shit today.
The man gestures towards the entrance with the knife, trying to get us to leave again.
"Are you doing a mime?" John asked; he was as fed up as I was.
"Go. Or I'll cut you."
I laughed. "Oooh no. Not from that angle. Let me help." I walked towards the man so he was close enough to stab me if he tried. I rolled my eyes at the thought.
"Sherlock Holmes. Where?" I asked again.
"Okay, you asked for it girl." The man lunged at me. I stepped lazily out of his reach and he tumbled forward. John grabbed the man's right arm and slammed his hand down. The man cried out in pain as John wrapped his hand around the man's neck and slammed him to the ground.
"You can take the boy out of the military, but never the military out of the boy." I laughed.
"That was really lame, August." John said, but smiled. "Now, where is he?"
"You broke my arm!" The man cried out, holding his arm.
"No, I sprained it." John replied.
"It feels squishy! Is it supposed to feel squishy?" The man cried out again. I hid my laughter. "Feel that!"
John reached out and squeezed the man's arm. "Yeah, it's a sprain. I'm a doctor – I know how to sprain people."
"Now where is Sherlock Holmes?" John demanded again.
YOU ARE READING
August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter
FanfictionAugust was thirteen years old when her life changed completely. Living in Ireland all her life, she was surprised to learn everything she thought was true was false. After being in a horrific car crash and dealing with the death of her parents and b...
