August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Twenty Nine: Miss me?

"NO!" I scream at my uncle, tears pooling down my face. John had both of my arms pinned behind my back, preventing me from scratching Mycroft's stupid face off. "I just got him back!"

"I'm sorry Ms. Holmes. Please behave properly." Mycroft snarled. I tried ripping my arms away from John, but his military training made it hard to get out of his professional grasp.

Mycroft was trying to send Sherlock away on a six month mission into Eastern Europe. A M16 mission that would prove fatal to him. This was the deal, either be sent away or serve life in prison for the murder of Chris Moriarty.

"August please calm down." Sherlock tried to soothe me from the other side of Mycroft's office. Me, John, and Sherlock have been sent here after the events with Moriarty.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I shouted at Sherlock. "I won't let you die because you saved my life." I jerked my arms away from John and stood up taller.

"Mycroft I won't let you." I crossed my arms and glared at my Uncle. I knew I was acting childish right now, there is nothing I can do. Mycroft is the most powerful man in Britain. His word is basically law.

"Do you think I want to send my brother away?" Mycroft rolled his eyes at me.

I screamed again and jumped forward with the intention of ripping Mycroft's face off. John pulled me back and imprisioned my arms once again.

"August!" John hissed.

"There is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry August, Sherlock." Mycroft said sadly. "For now you will be on house arrest. A guard will be posted on your door at all times. I'm sorry."

The three of us were ushered out and taken into one of Mycroft's cars where we were driven home.

"Mary is bringing Ely here. She's pissed, by the way." John told Sherlock.

"Mmmn." Sherlock looked grim.

"I should get going. I will be back tomorrow for a visit." John said, trying to lightened up the mood. He hugged me before he left. "It's going to be alright." He whispered in my ear.

I nod at John and see him leave. I turn around facing Sherlock. "Dad... you can't go."

"There is really no option." Sherlock remarked, sitting down on the couch and staring at the wall thoughtfully.

"Yes there is!" I paused. "This is the worst Christmas ever."

Sherlock looked up and me and smiled. "It's got to be better than your birthday last month. Who knew Mrs. Hudson knew how to swing from the ceiling."

I laughed at the memory. "That woman has so many secret talents."

My birthday was in November- last month. I turned 19. I had a good time. Somehow Mrs. Hudson ended up swinging from the ceiling. Don't ask how - we all were a bit drunk. Sophia came, and it wasn't awkward at all. It was like our friendship just picked off where we last left it.

I sat down from Sherlock on the adjacent chair.

"Listen. In a week I will be shipped off God knows where. I need you to be strong for me. I need you to keep your head up, and be the powerful woman I know you are. You are so, so amazing in so many ways, August. I need you to take care of John, Ely, and Mrs. Hudson. Can you do that?" Sherlock swallowed. "I need you to make something of yourself. You are so smart. You are capable of so many good things. Just please... when I leave... make something of yourself."

I held back tears. "I promise."

The remaining week was sad. Sherlock acted like he was already dead. He gathered the few assents he did have and gave them to me. Which was a kind gesture, but I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with his 1435 page journal on the study of different clothing fabrics. He gave John a gun that he had owned, and a couple of bits and bobs that were laying around the flat. He tried giving Ely some past experiments of his but I stopped him. My 11 year old brother does not need frozen livers.