The Doctor's Daughter

Chapter 21

I reach my fist up to the cold, brass knocker, and slowly knock it three times. 221 Baker Street. That's the address that I was told to go to. The doctor left to retrieve Amy, who wasn't dead, but lost in some troubling situation sometime in the mid-1800s. Shaking my head slightly to clear it, I take a step back as the door opens.

Now is the time for me to act. Sherlock, I was told, would see right through it, but just in case someone is watching, I have to pretend. A man with a head of curly dark hair and the most prominent, fair cheekbones I have ever seen steps out, eyes a brilliant shade of green, which apparently has become a common eye color. He looks down at me, sagacity in his complexion, and anxiety builds up in my throat.

"Hi. Um, I'm staying here for a bit, as you can see from my suitcase, the landlady invited me since my mum is out of town. Mrs. Hudson, I'm pretty sure that's the name my mum told me. They used to be friends, she probably knows who I am." I give Sherlock a small, confident smile, eyes shimmering in what appears to be truth, but is exactly the opposite.

After a second, he claps his hands together, crookedly grinning. "Ah," he says, opening the door to let me in. "Do come in, she is out for a bit, but will be back soon." He says in his low voice, and everything about him looks truthful. Like he actually believes that I'm here for Mrs. Hudson, when in fact his eyes say otherwise. I go inside, dragging my practically-empty suitcase with me. He gestures towards a chair after we go upstairs, and sits in the couch across. I drop the suitcase and sit in the chair, crossing my legs anxiously.

"So, tell me your case." He says, patiently and expectantly leaning back in the couch.
"I want to see how good you are. Tell me what you have already found out about my life from the moment I walked in, then I will talk." I demand, waiting for him to look appalled or even hurt at the terse manner in which I speak in.

"You were born in England, but lived on the coast of a beach with your apparent father for most of your life. No siblings, by the looks of it, and you have dealt with a recent painful situation. You have a complex family situation, and sometimes you feel as though you have failed them. You're here for me, to stay for a little while, I would presume. I believe you were told to find me so I could help you solve a situation, but also because you wanted to see an expert. Someone who can teach you how to read people, because you have been hurt countless times over lies. Am I correct so far, or do you wish for me to continue?" Sherlock rambles, ending with a question and a sarcastic raise of his eyebrows.

Perplexed, I stutter. "Tell me how you knew all of that."

"I deduced that you lived on a beach in London because of the way you carry yourself, it's like your drawn to water. You clearly covered up dark circles with make-up that you have barely used, and you most likely didn't have a mum when you were younger to teach you how to apply it correctly. However, your phone buzzed with a text from mummy when you came in, so a complex family situation. The dark eye circles and the constant yet subtle attempts to actually smile tell me that your sad, so a recent sad event has happened. Plus your scars, which show it was painful. A yearning in your eyes told me that you want to be able to make deductions like I do, but it was a dark expression. I believe that's all. Now tell me your case."

I blink a couple times, dumbfounded. That was bloody brilliant. "Do you know a Mr. Watson?" I ask. His face immediately goes serious and dangerous, and his eyes widen in a terrifying, cold anger.

"How do you know about John? What does this concern him with?" Sherlock says in a controlled voice.

"It doesn't have to concern him, but I was just told that he would be able to help me, too. I guess I can tell you the problem without him, though," I say in a small voice. Sherlock nods, and I continue. I tell him about the man who pretended to be an alien, who forced Carl to say things. About the skip code, and about how Carl jumped off the roof. About how he is alive, but I clearly saw him die. Sherlock begins to look intrigued.

"He staged his death to save you, and told you in a skip code that he was alive. That would mean that he was probably forced to jump and was meant to die, but somehow he pretended and is now on the run. It was to keep you safe, but why risk a skip code? Why would this man be messing with two children?" Sherlock starts to talk to himself, but then snaps out of it. "I will take your case, and you can stay in a separate room in this apartment with me and John in the other room."

I nod, and go into the room I'm staying in. I sit there, tapping my foot impatiently and staring at the bland wall. Eventually, the doctor comes crashing through the window in the tardis, practically blowing me off my feet. I stand, and look at him with hope in my eyes. Amy steps out, and I immediately rush to hug her, burying my head into her neck. Still grasping onto Amy, I look to the doctor.

"I'm so, so, sorry, Emily. We found Carl. I'm afraid that he... that.." The doctor, unable to continue, leaves the sentence hanging in a broken end. I look at him, a strong headache pounding in my ears.
"He couldn't escape the man?" I say, sorrow filling my very being. "He is dead?" I feel so broken, so depressed and guilty and flooded with pain. But I manage to devour all those feelings and smile weakly at the doctor, letting go of Amy. I stand before them, not shedding a tear, and shrug.
"I guess it was pointless to think he was alive, anyway. Doctor, can we go somewhere? Like, you, Amy and I, as a family? Possibly even River?" I plead, pretending like the news of Carl's demise doesn't hurt in the slightest. The doctor slowly nods, compassion and confusion in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sherlock's bursts threw the door. "What the hell is going on? Oohhhhh." He says, smiling a bit. "Good-evening, Doctor. I didn't expect you to be involved with this case."
The doctor smiles back, and sticks out his hand to shake. "Yes, well, this is my daughter. The boy that you were looking into is gone, I'm afraid. But still try to solve the case of who is the murderer, and give me a ring when you are able to deduce that information, please."
Sherlock nods, and shakes the doctor's hand. "Will do. Farewell, doctor and Emily." We return our hasty goodbyes, and awkwardly get into the tardis.

Flying through space, the tardis whirs and flashes. "Where are we going?" I ask the doctor, swallowing down the sobs that threaten to break lose because of Carl. No matter what I do, my mind won't leave him. But, maybe this needed to happen. Maybe this tragic lose is opening a whole new opportunity for me to see and do incredible things. Maybe we just weren't meant to be.

"To the planet that some people would call a dream come true, while others would just turn it down. You will love it. Think of it as your Christmas present, considering that on Earth they are celebrating it in a couple of days." The doctor smirks, pulling a few levers. Amy laughs, understanding a joke that I seem to be missing.
"Where are we going, though? What's the planet?" I ask impatiently.
"Fandom. You know all those books and movies you obsess over? Every "ship" or whatever the hell you call it, it's all there. You experience it first hand, you can even become part of their world. It's a beautiful place, really," The doctor practically cheers. Excitement fills me and I try to contain it, and suddenly Carl isn't even considered a part of my thoughts. I love him, and his death left a gaping hole through my heart, but the doctor is my father. I squeal with happiness, and we are off, preparing for a fantastic Christmas on the planet Fandom.

Hey!! So this chapter sucks. But it opens up two things I want to ask you. One: What Fandoms should I include in the next chapter? And two: can you please check out my new Sherlock fanfiction? It's called "Making A Deduction", and it would mean the world to me if you read the first chapter. Thanks, love you all!