August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Twenty Six: Liar

August POV

May 21st

I turn around to look at my father, his face was covered in shock. 

"Who is with you?"

"Um.. John.." Sherlock stuttered.

"Where?" I asked, keeping my gun trained on my father.

"He-he's downstairs." Sherlock told me. He looked confused.

"So, what do you do now? Kill us both?" Moriarty looked at me.

I rolled my eyes, but kept facing Sherlock. My gun was still pointed towards him. I couldn't shoot Moriarty now, John and Sherlock would look like a suspect.

"August, whatever he's got on you, let me help." Sherlock tried pleading with me. He shifted his weight on his foot, ready to come close to me.

"Oh, Dad, if you take one more step I swear I will kill you." I said, feeling guilty.

"No, August. You won't." Sherlock said gently.

Sherlock took another step towards me and I took a deep breath. I pulled the trigger on my gun and the bullet impeded itself in my father's lower chest. Moriarty straightened up, surprised that I would pull the trigger on my own father.

I look down at Sherlock tearfully. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"August?" Sherlock mumbled, his consciousness wearing away.

I turn around and point my gun to Moriarty, debating on whether to shoot him as well. The sirens go off throughout the penthouse, making it crucial for me to take my leave. I grab my phone and dial 999 so Sherlock could get some help as soon as possible. I send a silent prayer, willing him to be okay and rush down the fire escape, leaving Sherlock and Moriarty.

Once I was outside I haul the closest taxi to take me back home. My heart pounded the whole way there. Sherlock has to be okay.

I threw a 20 pound note at the cabbie and ran inside the flat, changing my clothes and hiding my gun in my sock drawer. As expected, my phone started ringing. It was John.

"August! Get to the hospital as soon as possible. It's Sherlock. He's been shot." John yelled through the phone, he was hyperventilating.

"Which hospital?" I asked.

"Saint Mary's! Quick!" John hung up.

I took a deep breath, thankful that Ely was over Mrs. Hudson's side of the flat. I walked outside and grabbed another cabbie, taking me to the hospital Sherlock and John were at.

Once at the hospital, I jogged inside and met with John.

"August!" John smiled at me.

"Hey. How is he?" I asked, concerned.

"He's only bloody woken up! He's pulled through." John said, relieved.

"Really?! Seriously?" I sighed in relief. I would have never forgiven myself if I had killed Sherlock.

"His first words when he woke up... August!" John said, laughing.

I laughed and hugged John. "Aww. I need to see him."

John and I head to Sherlock's room, where he was talking quietly with Janine. I rolled my eyes.

Sherlock looked up to me and softened his expression. His face asking, why?

"Sherlock! Janine!" John greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, once I turned my morphine back up." Sherlock muttered, glaring at Janine.