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The Great Girl

Chapter Text

Waiting was all she could do. The girl was on her own and there was nothing else she could do. Well, she knew she wasn't on her own. She could sense the other people around her, the ones who had put the earpiece in and the bombs on her body, with only a coat to cover them up. The other people were not anywhere that could be seen. They were hiding, it almost made her want to laugh because in some ways that is what she had been doing all her life.

How did I end up here? she asked herself. One moment she had been asleep in bed at the boarding school her uncle made her go to, to keep her out of the way, the next thing she knew was that she was being kidnapped in the middle of the night. Now she was here and wasn't sure why.

Her legs were beginning to hurt from standing up for so long; she could feel the burn go right up the back of them. The weight of the vest wasn't helping, she knew she needed to sit down soon. If only they had not taken her wheelchair off her, she knew she would be able to sit down. But they had, because they were bastards and wanted to prove a point.

Time seemed to drag, she wasn't sure how long she been there before she heard a door open, and footsteps echo around the pool. "Brought you a little getting to know you present," a deep voice said.

It shocked her when she heard it. This voice was one that had been following her all her life, though she never expected to hear it in person. "That's what it's all been for, isn't it?" he continued on. "All your little puzzles making me dance. All to distract me from this."

The voice in her ear told her to walk out, and for the first time in her life, she was face to face with Sherlock Holmes. "Evening," the child said to him.

His eyes went wide with shock, it took him a moment to register that another child had been taken and used once again. "Bet you never saw this coming," the young girl said, as she opened the coat to reveal the bombs. The words coming out of her mouth were ones he knew she didn't want to say. "What would you like me to make her say … next?" she asked, repeating the words from her earpiece.

"I can help, you know," Sherlock said ignoring her words. "Tell me your name. I'm Sherlock. I can help you. Okay?"

"Gottle o' gear Gottle o' gear"

"Stop it." Sherlock said firmly "She's a child, and should not be here. Let her go, her parents must be terrified."

If only he knew the truth, the child thought to herself, knowing if she told him it would be a huge risk. "Are you terrified?"

The question made him turn and look at her. "What?"

"Are you terrified?" The question was asked, with a slight tremor in her voice.

It took him a few long moments to answer. One wrong move could spell disaster. "No" came his one-word response.

Behind Sherlock, the door opened. John Watson walked in looking at his phone. "Look I don't know why you called me here. There's no one here Sherlock. The whole place is empty. I'm missing a whole night I could be spending with Sarah." When his friend did not say anything back, he looked up.

In front of him, he saw Sherlock with a girl who couldn't be any older than twelve. Though she looked young, she held herself well for the situation she was in. Something about her seemed familiar to him, she was short, with shoulder-length brown hair and a slight upturned nose he was sure he'd seen somewhere before.

"Bloody hell! What the hell is going on here?" he shouted his voice echoing around the room.

"I don't know," Sherlock said turning to look at him. "That's what I am trying to work out."

"Are you okay?" John asked her.

She just about nodded. "I stopped him," the girl said. "I can stop her too. Stop her meaningless heart. Worked out who she is yet?" Small tears started to escape down her face.

Another door opened and a voice he recognised echoed around the quiet pool. "I gave you my number. I thought you might call," it mocked, then continued. "Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?"

Sherlock pulled a gun from his back pocket and pointed it at the man. "Both."

"Jim Moriarty. Hi. Jim? Jim from the hospital? Oh, did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose that was rather the point."

A red dot now appeared on both the child and John. Sherlock flashed Jim a warning look. "Don't be silly, someone else is holding the rifle," Jim spoke again, continuing with, "I don't like getting my hands dirty. I've given you a glimpse Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I've got going on out in that big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see."

The child zoned out for a minute, the pain in her legs was making it difficult to follow the conversation. She was brought back when a shout came from the man who had kidnapped her.

"I will stop you," Sherlock said to him.

"No, you won't" Jim mocked back.

Sherlock looked at the girl again. "Are you all right?"

She moved her head to look up at him. This time he could see her looking at him. She didn't say anything, Sherlock could tell she was too scared to do so.

Moriarty came up behind her and whispered into her ear, though it was loud enough for the detective to hear. "You know you can talk, little lady. Go on - tell him who you are. I don't think he's figured it out yet. Go on, tell him your name. Your full name."

It took a moment for her to find her voice. "My names Samantha, 'Sam' Hooper … Holmes."

Sherlock's eyes went wide and for a moment Sam thought he was going to drop the gun. "What?" The detective went into thinking mode. "I have a niece." Sherlock muttered to himself. "Why wouldn't Mycroft tell me?" Behind him a door opened.

For the fourth time that night, a door opened to the swimming pool and someone else ran in. This time it was someone everybody knew. "Ah, Molly. Glad you could join us," Moriarty welcomed.

Sherlock turned and saw Molly, a woman he had known since his university days, standing in the spot where he had been when he first entered the pool. "Mycroft slept with Molly," he deduced out loud. "But that's not possible. I was the one sleeping with her thirteen years … ago."

John sniggered behind Sherlock as everything slowly started to dawn on the detective. He turned once again to look at Sam.

"Congratulations Daddy, it's a girl," Moriarty said, taking a step closer to Sam, which made Sherlock take one step forwards. "Oh, he has instantly got more protective of you, now he knows who you are. Funny that."

"You're my daughter?" Sherlock questioned, really looking at her. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, Mum has always said it was you. Plus, Mycroft had a hundred different DNA tests done just to be sure."

It took Molly a moment to process everything that was happening in front of her. First, her daughter, the one she had kept a secret for over a decade, was now face to face with her dad. A part of Molly always knew the day would come, when she would have to tell Sherlock about Sam, especially when they both came back into each other's lives now she was working at Bart's. Though she never expected them to meet in this way, her daughter with a bomb vest on. She could see both Sam and Sherlock looking at her, scared. They were trying hard to not let it show. Molly wanted to help both of them, but knew who to look after first.

"Sam, are you okay?" Molly asked, walking towards her daughter.

"We have a daughter?" Sherlock asked confusedly, as his voice echoed around the room.

"You two have had sex?" John put in. "Sherlock are you sure you know how to do that?"

"As much as I hate to break up this joyous family reunion, you all might die in a minute," Moriarty said, as more red dots appeared on the rest of the people in the room.

"I'm fine, Mum," Sam replied bravely.

"Are you two sure you had sex?" John asked, still not quite getting the situation.

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't exist otherwise. I told Sherlock about the DNA tests Mycroft had done. Do keep up John. By the way, I do love your blog," responded Sam in place of her father, rolling her eyes.

John's mouth fell open. "Fucking hell, she's both of you at once."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sherlock questioned, looking over at Molly.

"Mycroft ... thought it was best if I didn't tell you," Molly said, not looking at him.

Molly stood by Sam, as she watched her in the incubator. She felt so scared for her tiny baby born all to early, with wires coming out of her, that were helping her to survive. Every time she saw her tiny chest go up and down to take a breath, she felt her heart flutter with the hope she would get better. Molly heard Mycroft enter the room and walk towards her.

"Miss Hooper, seeing as you now want to keep her, I will help assist you financially, and help make sure you can finish university, and give you enough that if he wishes, your father will be able to stop working and look after the child."

Her father put a hand on her shoulder. "That's kind of you," he said to Mycroft.

"Why do I feel like there is a 'but' coming?" Molly asked, turning to look at him.

"You must make sure my brother does not know of her existence," Mycroft stated, like it was just a business deal.

He looked at her dad, who gave her a nod. "Okay. We accept."

Mycroft smiled, well, at least Molly thought it was a smile. "Good. Have you come up with a name for the child? I need to know for the paperwork."

"Samantha ... after dad, and I remembered what you said about every Holmes having to have a part of one of their parent's names in theirs, well seeing as Sherlock is not fit enough to be in our… her life I want her middle name to be Scott."

"It seems to fit her. Don't you think?" Mr Hooper said.

"Quite" Mycroft agreed. "Samantha Scott Hooper Holmes"

"Wait till I see my brother next, I swear to god he's an arsehole at times," Sherlock said, getting angry.

"God, I know, right?" Sam agreed. "I don't know about you, but half the time it's like he's got a rod shoved up his backside. I'd have more luck at taming a lion than making him smile."

"Don't talk about your uncle that way," Molly said sternly, making all the men and Sam stand a bit straighter.

"Sorry, Mum."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Molly asked her daughter again.

"My legs are hurting, and I really need to sit down … they took my chair off me," Samadmitted, knowing her mum would not be happy with the last part.

Molly saw red. "Wait, they did what?"

Jim chose that moment to remind everyone that he was still there. "Don't worry, it's not too far away. She'll have it back if she lives."

Sherlock turned his head slightly to the side to glance at Molly, still keeping the gun pointed at the smaller man, "What's wrong with her?"

"I have CP," Sam said.

"What?" Sherlock asked, now looking to John for help.

"Cerebral Palsy?" John asked.

"Yes," Sam spoke back.

"What is that?" Sherlock asked, getting even more confused.

Everyone looked at him, surprised that he didn't know. "Sherlock, it's a form of brain damage," Molly explained. "It affects each person who has it differently. For Sam, it's in her legs, which makes it hard to use them. Standing up for long periods of time can be difficult."

"Which is why I need to sit down now," Sam supplied. "Oi, arse face," she said, turning to look at Moriarty, "is it okay for me to sit down in this thing or not?"

"Yes, but you might not live for much longer," Moriarty replied.

"John, would you mind helping me?" Molly asked, gesturing to Sam.

John walked over to Sam and took her left side, and Molly gently took her right. Together they both helped her, so she was sitting on the ground. "You shouldn't call people arse face," Molly said in a scolding tone to her daughter.

"I got your text. He hurt you and messed with your feelings. That means I can call him what I like. Nobody upsets you and gets away with it," Sam answered, a little belligerently.

"Here, take this," Sherlock said, holding out the memory stick towards Moriarty. "Let them go."

"Oh, that's the missile plans." Moriarty turned to look at Sam. "You must be pretty important for him to give these up. Boring. I could have got them anywhere." Moriarty threw the stick into the pool.

"Jim, why are you doing this?" Molly asked.

This made Moriarty smile, the fools - none of them had worked it out. He ignored her question. "Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, do you?"

"Oh, let me guess. I get killed," Sherlock said uninterestedly.

"Mmm, no. Don't be obvious. I mean, I'm gonna kill you anyway someday. I don't want to rush it, though. No, no n- "

"Can you just rush this part and get to the point please?" Sam interrupted, which got her a couple of 'shut up' looks from John and Molly. Molly then sat down next to Sam and took her hand.

"Sorry if I'm boring you," Moriarty said coldly. "Where was I? Oh, right. I'll burn you. I'll burn the heart out of you."

"I have been reliably informed I don't have one."

"But we both know that's not quite true," Moriarty said turning to look at the person sitting on the floor. "Well, I'd better be off. Glad the family secret is now out of the bag."

"Catch you ... later" Sherlock said.

"No, you won't" Moriarty called back, before he left the room.

The moment he was out of the room, Sherlock was on the ground trying to get the bomb off his daughter. "All right. Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine, Sherlock." The moment it came off her, Sam threw her arms around her mother. Molly held her tight, not wanting to let her go. Sherlock slid the jacket far away from them.

He walked back over to Molly and their daughter, he could just about make out Molly telling Sam she loved her. "Is she … okay?"

"I think she will be," Molly responded, looking up at him.

Sam turned her head, and for the first time since finding out who she was, Sherlock got a proper look at her. He could see the resemblance between mother and daughter. When she stared up at him, he could see Molly's eyes. "Thanks for getting that thing off of me."

"err ... don't mention it," Sherlock replied back.

"Sherlock, you have a child," John said slowly, still seeming unable to get his head around the fact.

"Is he always this slow?" Sam asked her parents.

This caused Sherlock to laugh. "Welcome to my world."

John joined Sam and Molly on the floor just as the red dots appeared again. Sherlock picked up the gun, trying to work out where he needed to aim it. Moriarty walked back into the room.

Molly covered Sam's ears hoping to protect her in any way she could. Sam could vaguely make out the muffled conversation between the two. She saw Sherlock share a look between John, than with her mother, then he slowly moved the gun down, so its target was now the bomb instead of Moriarty.

Out of nowhere, a song Sam recognised from the radio started playing.

"Do you mind if I get that?" Moriarty asked.

"Oh no, please. You've got the rest of your life."

"Hello. Yes, of course it is. What do you want?"

"Is this how kidnapping situations always go?" Sam asked sarcastically. "I feel like I'm more at a mother's meeting than a hostage situation."

Molly couldn't help but snort at her daughter's comment, "Be quiet, okay?"

"Say that again," Moriarty yelled, making them all jump. "Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you and skin you."

"That doesn't seem like much fun," Sam said sarcastically. This time Molly just nudged her.

"Wait," Moriarty said as he walked closer to them. "Sorry, wrong day to die."

"Oh. Did you get a better offer?"

"You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." Moriarty started to make a call as he left the four people by the pool. "So, if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes." Just as he walked out the door, he clicked his fingers and the red dots were gone.

"What happened there?" John asked.

"Someone changed his mind. The question is, who?"

"Sherlock ... maybe work on the case later and get us out of here." Molly suggested.

"Mum, the people who took my wheelchair left it by the door Jim just went through."

"John would you mind going and … getting it for…S-?" Sherlock asked.

"Sam," Molly finished for him.

"Of course," John said, leaving the three of them alone.

"So ..." Molly said, standing up.

"We have a daughter," Sherlock stated flatly.

Molly bit the side of her lip, "Yes, we do."

The two of them stared at each other for a minute, Sherlock trying to figure out why Molly kept this from him, and Molly was seeing how Sherlock was taking the information about their daughter.

"Could I have a helping hand up, please?" Sam enquired, breaking into the thoughts of both adults.

Molly said, "Sorry love," and walked over to her daughter and grabbed her left hand. "Sherlock, could you take her other side?"

"Oh ... err... yes," Sherlock replied, as he walked over to them, but looked at Molly as he was unsure of what he needed to do.

She could see he was a little lost. "Just grab her right hand, okay?" As they helped Sam up, Sherlock thought to himself that this was his daughter he was helping.

John once again broke him out of his thoughts, when he saw him pushing an empty wheelchair. "Is this the one?" he asked.

"Yes," both mother and child responded at once.

Sam walked the few steps to the chair. It was in those few moments that gave Sherlock time to observe her. Feet don't go properly on the ground. Wobbles a tiny bit. Balance isn't the best. Had surgery but needs more in the future.

Once Molly was sure Sam was okay, she turned to Sherlock and told him what he needed to do next. "Call Mycroft and tell him you know about Sam." After Molly finished her words, she pushed Sam in her wheelchair out of the swimming pool. She was gone before Sherlock could say anything to stop her or his daughter.

Chapter Text

It had gone one in the morning by the time Molly and Sam made it back to their flat.  Neither of them had spoken to each other on the taxi ride home. It didn’t seem right, this was a conversation that needed to be done in private.  Sam felt exhausted emotionally and physically from what had just happened, but part of her knew that if she tried to go to bed now, sleep would not come.  Looking at her mother, Sam was sure she felt the same way.

“Fold the chair up and go into the living room. I’ll make us some hot chocolate and then we can talk,” Molly instructed her daughter as she walked into the kitchen.

“Okay,” Sam replied as she got out of her chair, clipping the seat belt back together. Next, she took the cushion out and pulled the middle up, and she left the cushion by the wheel. It had been decided long ago that if the chair was in the house, and not in the back of Molly’s car, it would be folded up, so it didn’t take up too much room in the hallway of their flat.

Once she was done, Sam walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. She was glad that she had been in her pyjamas when the kidnapping happened, because it was one less thing to do, now she was home.  It wasn’t long before Molly walked in with two mugs, handing one to her daughter. She then grabbed the big blanket that always hung on the back of her sofa. Molly put it over both of them, hoping it would help Sam feel a little bit more comfortable.

Sam took a sip of her drink. “So, that’s Sherlock then.”

“Yeah,” replied Molly. “How did you end up at the pool?”

“I was asleep in the dorm. My roommate is away, family issues, so I’m not sure what time it was. One moment I was asleep, then the next thing I know, Jim was there. I recognised his voice from when you both skyped me a few weeks ago.  He was there, had his face right next to mine with a gun,” Sam paused for a moment. “He told me to get up now … and go with him. If I tried to make a scene, he would shoot me. He had a helicopter waiting on the school field. If anyone from the school questioned it, I don’t think they would have raised an eyebrow cause of who Mycroft is.”

“He does have a lot of protection set up for you.”

“Yeah. So, he got me to London, I don’t remember much, it’s all a bit of a blur.” Sam saw the worried look on her mother's face. “He didn’t drug me if you're worried. I know he would've, if I didn’t comply with what he wanted me to do. So, I did as I was told.”

“That makes a change,” Molly quipped.

Sam smiled. “They set up the bomb vest on me. Took a couple of pictures, then I don’t know how long it was before Da-, Sherlock got there. How did you know I was there? You were so calm.”

“Jim texted me a couple of the pictures saying, ‘Come to the pool if you want to see her alive’. I didn’t text Mycroft because I thought maybe if I spoke to Jim, he wouldn’t hurt you. I knew if I acted calmly it would be better for you.”

“Sorry to say this, Mum, but do you think Jim was only dating you to get to … Sherlock …. and me? How do you think he found out?”

“I’m not sure, love. I’ve never once told Jim you were … um … Sherlock was your father.”

“Maybe he hacked into some of the secret files Mycroft has about Sherlock,” Sam mused. “Or he could have found something like my birth certificate while you were asleep.”

“Quite possibly. Wait - how do you know about the secret files Mycroft has?”

“No reason,” Sam said quickly, avoiding her mother's eye, quickly taking another sip of her drink.

Molly looked at her daughter suspiciously, but decided to not pursue the subject, for now. “So, what do you think of him? Now you’ve seen him in person.”

“He’s okay, I guess,” Sam said uninterestedly.

“Sammy,” Molly said using her favourite nickname for her daughter. “Please, we have to talk about this. Please tell me how you feel.”

“That’s the thing, Mum, I don’t know how I feel. I dreamed about meeting my dad for the first time for as long as I can remember. Wanting to run into his arms for a big hug, like it’s always done on tv and films. Then there he was, stood right in front of me and I ... don’t know. I don’t think he wants me, Mum. What if I don’t want him?”

Molly put her mug down on the coffee table that was in front of the sofa, then did the same with her daughter's. Then she pulled her into a hug. She had done this when Sam was much younger and got bullied because of her disability.  Gently stroking her hair, she whispered into her ear, “Oh, honey, your father, no matter how brilliant he can be … he is a very complicated man. Sherlock has only just found out about you under very stressful circumstances. It’s bound to feel strange not just for him but for you too.”

“How do you feel about it all?” Sam asked looking up at her mother.

“Just as nervous. I always knew I would have to tell him one day, but not like that. The main thing is that you are safe. I kept you a secret from him for a very … very long time. I hope one day he will be able to see that I didn’t do it to hurt him.”

“What if he’s horrible to you?”

“I’ll take it as long as he’s not like that with you,” Molly said, kissing the top of Sam’s head. “I’ll get Mycroft to contact the school in the morning and let him explain why you won’t be in for the rest of the week, and hey, then it’s half term, a whole week of having you home.”

“Thanks, Mum. I can’t wait to spend time with you. I’ve missed you while I have been away,” Sam said, squeezing the arms wrapped tightly around her.

“I’ve missed you too,” Molly responded.

They were both quiet for a long time. “I’m not calling him Dad though,” Sam said suddenly, thinking out loud.

Molly chuckled. “Whatever pace feels best for you, go with that.”

“Knowing the way I walk it will be a bloody slow one.”

“Hey, come on now, I think it’s time we both went to bed.”

Molly walked with Sam to her room and helped her get into bed. This wasn’t something she had done for a while now. Sam was getting more grown up and becoming more independent. Molly missed the days of telling her daughter a bedtime story. “If I’m not here in the morning, it’s because I’ve probably gone to talk with Mycroft or your Da- … Sherlock. I’ll make sure one of Mycroft’s men will be here to make sure you're safe.”

“You mean one of his men to babysit me.” Sam yawned.

“If you want to look at it that way, then yes. Come on now, no more talking let’s get some sleep.”

Sam rolled over onto her side, Molly just about made out her words before she drifted off to sleep. “Goodnight, Mum. I love you.”

“I love you too.”  Molly said as she walked out the room.

Sherlock stood by the pool, analysing what had just happened to him. That girl was his child. A child he had with Molly.  One she kept from him. Mycroft knew. Mycroft!

“Sherlock, you all right mate?” John asked.

“Not particularly,” Sherlock replied, as he walked away from John towards the exit.

John followed after him. “Where are we going?”

“We aren’t going anywhere. I’m doing as Molly said and letting Mycroft know that I know. You can either go back to Baker Street or, go to see Sarah - you seemed interested in that option earlier.  Good night.”

The detective walked off, leaving behind a very confused John. “Yeah, see you later, mate.”

Sherlock decided to take a taxi to Mycroft’s place of work. Knowing the work his older brother did, there was a chance that he would still be there working at this hour. The closer the taxi took him, the more he could feel anger building up inside of him.

He did not remember the walk to his brother’s office, but before he knew it, he was at the door. As he entered, his brother was pacing the office, with paperwork in his hand. He looked up, surprised to see him.

“HOW COME YOU KEPT HER A SECRET FROM ME?” Sherlock yelled, before Mycroft had a chance to say anything.

“Sherlock, what in great heaven are you talking about?” Mycroft asked.

“My daughter. The one you kept a secret.”

“Molly told you?” Mycroft asked, surprised.

“No, but a criminal kidnapped her. Moriarty.  Put a bomb vest on her and forced her to tell me her name.  When she said Hooper Holmes, I thought she might be your child.”

Mycroft gave Sherlock a condescending smile. “Really, my child, Sherlock? Why would you even think that?”

“Because Molly and I were close, we obviously had sex, but she would have told me. We were… frie- lab partners once.”

“Yes, but then you decided to substitute your lab partner for drugs. Molly didn’t want that for the child, so she did the right thing and came to me.”

This made Sherlock even angrier. He pushed his brother up against the wall and grabbed his arm, pulling it behind his back. “I would have been right for them.”

“No, you wouldn’t, brother mine.” Mycroft managed to get out. “You weren’t fit to be a father then, and I’m still not sure now. That’s why we all kept it a secret from you.”

“Who’s we? Who else knows about her?” Sherlock asked, letting go of his brother's arm.

“Mummy and Father, they are quite fond of her, and Samantha loves them both dearly.”

“So, you have all been lying to me for the past twelve years. Was I ever going to find out about her?”

“Well, I hoped not,” Mycroft said harshly. “If I am being honest, it would have been better for her.”

Sherlock punched Mycroft in the face several times. “She’s not a her.”

Mycroft grabbed the handkerchief that was in his top pocket and wiped some of the blood coming from his bleeding nose. “This is why we didn’t tell you about Samantha. You still act like a child and have no grasp of your emotions.”

“I’m not a child, don’t treat me like one.”

“I will stop treating you like a child when you grow up. I’m going to say this to you now, Sherlock. Do not mess Sam around. She may come across strong and tough, but she is not. Sam has gone through so much in her short life already and lost a lot too.”

“What are you saying?” Sherlock asked.

“Make a choice; be in her life and act like a father or leave her alone. Cause if you choose to be a father now but, in a year’s, time decide to walk, it will hurt Sam more than you could ever imagine.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Sherlock retorted.

“Not intentionally, brother, but I fear you still might. Think about it, and I mean properly think about it, if this is what you want.”

Sherlock nodded and left his brother in peace. Walking the streets of London back to his flat, he thought about what would be the right thing to do. His mind kept taking him back to the image of his child hugging her mother.

Molly woke early the next morning. For someone who went to bed late, she felt far more rested than she should have done. Rolling over in bed, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand, turning off the alarm she had set, to see she had a text from Mycroft. It wasn’t unusual for her to have a text from him.

Sherlock visited last night. I see he learnt about Samantha.  I hope my niece is okay. You might want to go talk with him – M

Molly rolled her eyes at Mycroft's use of Samantha. Molly knew Sam always disliked being called that name. No matter how many times they had tried to get him to stop using it, he never did. At this point, Molly saw it as an inside joke between uncle and niece.

Sam is doing okay , she is sleeping. I will go to Baker Street after I have had breakfast to see if I can talk to him. Please, would it be possible to send over someone to watch her? MH x

Yes, I will arrange that now and I’ll have a car waiting to take you to Baker Street. I don’t think it is best we meet up today. Talk things through with my brother if he is willing. Give it a couple of days and get back to me.  – M

Thank you and will do – MH x

Molly quickly had a shower and got breakfast before she walked outside to take the car Mycroft had waiting for her. Molly walked to her daughter’s bedroom. Opening the door slightly, she could see Sam deep in sleep with the blankets tightly wrapped around her. Molly smiled to herself, knowing that Sam was safe. Molly knew she would never tell Sam that last night she had cried herself to sleep, over her daughter possibly getting hurt by someone she had brought into their lives when her guard was down.  ‘Office romance, my arse’ Molly thought. She stayed a moment longer looking at her daughter, then knew she had to get on.

As she got to the car, Molly saw Sam’s normal bodyguard/baby sitter, David, standing by it. David was in his late twenties. He didn’t look much like a bodyguard, but she guessed that’s why it worked, because who would presume, he was one? Molly was pleased David had been sent, she knew he was Sam’s favourite. 

“Hi, David, Sam is still asleep and should be up in the next few hours. If she is not up by eleven, can you wake her up to take her tablets?”

“Of course, Ma’am," he replied.

Molly blushed. Even after all these years, she found it odd been spoken to like she was royalty. “You know where everything is in the kitchen if you want anything.” Molly started to get into the car. “Oh, one last thing, no playing poker with Sam. Last time she lost half her pocket money.”

“First time I beat her at a game, Ma’am, but note taken.”

“Thank you. I should be back by early afternoon.”

“Take the time you need, Ma’am, we will be fine,” David said as he shut the car door for Molly then walked inside her flat.



Molly felt sick to her stomach the whole ride over to Baker Street. The guilt of the secret she had kept for over twelve years was catching up with her, and all she could see in her mind was Sherlock’s sad and confused face. Molly made herself look out the car window. Even though she knew Sherlock could possibly be hurt, it almost seemed worth it, because it meant Sam had been safe for all this time.

When she got to Baker Street, she knocked on the door and waited; it wasn’t long before Mrs Hudson opened the door.  “Oh, hello Molly dear, it’s lovely to see you.”

“Hello, Mrs Hudson. I was wondering if Sherlock was in, I need to talk to him.”

“He is, dear, but I think he got back late from a case last night or should I say early hours of this morning.  Strange one it must be to have grabbed his attention like this, but you know what he’s like - give him a murder any day of the week.”

“Yeah.” Molly smiled weakly.

“John wouldn’t mind having a word with you though. He told me that if you knocked, to get him for you. He’s a nice lad,” Mrs Hudson said knowingly.

Before Molly had a chance to stop the older woman, she was walking up the stairs to the other flat. Within a few seconds, she was coming back down the stairs with John not far behind her.

“Molly, I’m glad you came over. Sherlock seems to be resting at the moment. But I wouldn’t mind talking with you. Mrs Hudson, do you mind if we use your flat, so we don’t disturb Sherlock?”

“Of course.  I’ll leave you alone. Give you a bit of privacy.”  Mrs Hudson winked at him.

“If it’s okay with Molly, would you be able to join us?” John asked her, before looking over at Molly and eyebrow raised. Molly nodded her head a little nervously. 

“Oh, John, that is not my thing. Maybe when I was younger, I would have said yes, but you two have a nice time."

Both John and Molly shuddered at what Mrs Hudson was suggesting.  “Oh no. It’s not like that,” Molly said quickly.

“I think it would be better if we went inside and let Molly explain everything,” John suggested.

Once inside the flat, John made tea for himself and the two women. As he sat down, he helped Molly explain everything that had happened at the pool the previous night, and the secret Molly had been keeping. 

 Both John and Molly waited for a reaction to come from the landlady. “I always had a feeling you had a secret.” Mrs Hudson smiled.

“Really?” Molly said, shocked. “But I was able to keep it from Sherlock.”

“Oh, that boy can be blind sometimes to things that are right under his nose. It was the way you held yourself, Molly. I just knew there was something, but never asked.”

“So, how did it happen between you and Sherlock?” John asked. “I mean, I know how Sam obviously came to be, but what led to … that?”

Molly bit her lip and decided to continue telling the version that Mycroft and Sam knew. “We were lab partners at university, he was a few years older but, in our class, because of his drug addiction and getting clean held him back from getting in. We worked well together … then one late night I was in his dorm, he didn’t have a roommate he scared that poor bugger away in the first week… anyway, we were trying to finish one of our assignments. One moment we were working, the next thing I know is that he leaned over and kissed me, and one thing led to another and … well, Sam happened.

“Sounds like you two were close back then. Why did you keep it a secret from him?” John asked.

“He wasn’t there when I woke up.  I didn’t see Sherlock for a few weeks afterwards, but a friend told me he had gone back to the drugs. I found him in a back alleyway, I called Mycroft who sent him back to rehab. A few weeks later I took a pregnancy test. I knew it was his … he was the only person. So, I contacted Mycroft.”

“I bet he was shocked.” Mrs Hudson added in. 

“He was.” Molly smiled at the memory. “I told him that I wanted to put the child up for adoption and that I didn’t want Sherlock to know. With the drugs and everything, it didn’t seem safe for her.”

“But you didn’t give her up. What made you change your mind?” John asked.

“Sam was born 8 weeks early. She almost died,” Molly said, with tears in her eyes. Mrs Hudson reached out for her hands. “She stopped breathing at one point, that’s what led to the brain damage. When a nurse told me that, I knew I had to see her. Even if it was just once. My dad, who had been there for me through my pregnancy, went with me to see her. The moment we both saw her, we couldn’t let her go. She was mine, and I almost lost her, I wasn’t going to give her up for anything. Mycroft wasn’t completely okay with it, but I think he knows it was the right thing.”

Mrs Hudson smiled “So, what is she like … Sam, was it?”

“Yes, Sam” Molly beamed proudly. “She’s wonderful, brilliant and an absolute pain in the neck sometimes.”

“Sounds like someone else we know.” John joked.

“Are you talking about me?” Sherlock asked, as he entered the room. He stopped for a moment when he saw Molly was in the room, but then resumed walking over to Mrs Hudson’s biscuit tin.

“Molly has just been telling us the good news, Sherlock, isn’t it wonderful?” Mrs Hudson beamed.

“Yes, of course, it is, Mrs Hudson, but I would have liked to have known twelve years ago,” Sherlock shot back, giving Molly a dark look.

Mrs Hudson gave him a disapproving look. “Hush now, Sherlock. You know now. You’ve got plenty of time to get to be a dad. You don’t plan on dying, soon do you?”

“Not really.” The detective replied. “Is she okay?”

“Yes,” Molly replied. “She was asleep before I left, but she’s got someone watching her, so I know she will be okay.”

“So, what do we do now?” Sherlock asked.

“It depends on what both you and Sam want to do.”

“Does she want to know me?” Sherlock asked nervously.

“I think so. She needs time to adjust to things, Sherlock, but I know a part of her does want you in her life. Is that’s something you want?”

Sherlock thought back to everything he had analysed last night. He was intrigued by this child. He wasn’t going to lie about the fact that he wanted to get to know more about her. “Yes, Molly. I’d like that very much.”

“How about you come over for tea? Sam will be home for the rest of this week and next cause half term is coming up.”

“Okay.” The detective nodded.

“Look I better get going to get back to Sam. Text me what day works best for you?”  Molly said goodbye to John and Mrs Hudson as she left the flat. 

When she got back out onto the street Molly could see the car that brought her there, was still waiting for her. As she got in, she asked the driver to take her back home.  Molly couldn’t help but feel like she had a funny feeling in her tummy. She watched London pass by. She wasn’t sure if it was nervousness or excitement. All she knew was she hoped this all worked out. The thought of Sam getting hurt by Sherlock was unbearable, but it was a risk she was willing to take if it meant Sam would have some type of relationship with her father. All Molly hoped was that it all turned out well.

Chapter Text

Over the next couple of days, Sherlock spent a lot of time in his Mind Palace. John was used to his flatmate going into this state for days at a time, but the news of finding out he had a daughter, gave him more of a reason to be worried about how his friend was feeling.  He didn’t bring anything up until he came back from work three days after finding out about Sam, he saw Sherlock sat on the sofa with tons of books in front of him and 3 different laptops, one of which was his.

“New case?" John asked, dumping his work bag on his chair.

“Not really but you could say this is research,” Sherlock said, not looking up from the book he was reading.

John walked over to one of the piles of books and picked it up. “Understanding Cerebral Palsy” John read out loud. He picked up a couple more. “Explaining Cerebral Palsy, Children with Cerebral Palsy, Cerebral Palsy A Complete Guide for Caregiving. What is all this Sherlock?”

“I told you research, John,” Sherlock said in a frustrated tone of voice.

“Is this about Sam?” John asked.

“Obviously.” Sherlock said, dropping the book down. “Though I don’t see the point -every book says something different and everybody online has conflicting opinions. I need to know the right things.”

John was completely lost, “Right things?”

“God, you really are slow. I need to know everything about the condition Sam has. I want them to know that ... I understand it but what’s the point, when not all the information is the same?”

“Sherlock, you do know that it’s different for each person that has it. Molly said that, remember?  It’s good that you're doing all this research mate, but I think it’s better if you spoke to Molly about it or even Sam herself. Hearing first hand is better than trying to read all of this information that might not even be right for her.”

“What if asking questions pushes them away?” Sherlock asked.

“What if asking brings them closer?” John countered.

“Fair point.” Sherlock mused.


A couple of days later Sherlock was back at Bart's helping on a case for Lestrade.  When he walked into the morgue to look at a body, he saw Molly there. It was the first time he had seen her since he agreed to go over for dinner.

The moment he saw her he felt instant anger fill inside him. “Ah, Molly have you got the body ready for me, or are you going to keep that from me for twelve years too?”

“What?” Molly asked, not believing what she heard.

“I said have you got the body ready for me?” Sherlock repeated.

Molly fiddled with the buttons on her lab coat. “Yes, it’s … um all ready for you.”

Sherlock walked right past Molly to examine the body. While he was leaning over the body he could hear Lestrade asking a question.

“Is John not with you today Sherlock?”

“Well he is not here now, is he? Use your inspector skills to work that one out,” Sherlock stated bluntly.

“He’s working at the clinic today. They're busy at the moment. Some bug going around; he’s working overtime,” Molly said to Greg before asking Sherlock a question. “Is John okay Sherlock? I haven’t seen him since last week.”

“John’s completely normal. He wasn’t the one who’s been kept in the dark for all these years so he’s fine.”

“Is everything alright between the two of you?” Greg asked, sensing the tension. “I feel like I’m missing something."

Sherlock looked up from the body and gave one quick glance at Molly before turning his attention on Greg’s question. “You see, the thing is, Gavin, I found out last week that I have a daughter, one I had with Molly. She is almost a teenager and I’ve only met her once and let’s just say the family reunion wasn’t exactly happy. She was kidnapped by Molly’s ex-boyfriend, well he pretended to be at least. That psychopath, Moriarty, my brother contacted you about; well, he made her wear a bomb vest that almost killed us all. So yes, things are a little bit awkward between the two of us.” 

Molly felt her face go red and she could barely look at anyone in the room. “I did what I thought was best,” she said to the floor.

“No, you did what Mycroft thought was the best thing,” Sherlock said, walking over to Molly so he towered over her. “It wasn’t the right thing though. You know I still can’t work out why I didn’t see it, the first time I saw you again after all these years. But it obvious now. Bags under your eyes that look like they have been there for years. The horrible baggy clothes, was that to keep me from noticing the change that pregnancy leaves your body with, even long after a child has been born?”

“Sherlock!” Greg tried to intervene.

Sherlock ignored him. “Though she was born early I can see that you never really lost the last five,” Sherlock looked her body up and down. “no, six pounds after she was born. Hm, so it wasn’t domestic bliss after all just lonely motherhood. What kind of mother hides a secret like that?”

Almost instantly Molly slapped Sherlock hard around the face. He looked shocked and hurt as he brought a hand up to rub where she hit. “The kind of mother who does what’s best for the child protecting them, so they don’t get hurt. Yes, it’s hurting you now but it’s a small price to pay knowing Sam’s been safe all these years. You couldn’t have been there then, and you know it. Sam is fine by the way, thanks for asking. I still want to know when you are coming over to see her. Don’t forget that you promised to come for tea, so you can get to know her.”

“She wants me there?” the detective asked.

“Yes. Though I will try to make sure she is on her best behaviour.”

“I honestly can’t get my head around this - Sherlock Holmes a dad. Wasn’t a sentence I’d ever think I would say,” Greg interrupted. “So, who is she most like?” 

Molly and Sherlock had forgotten that they were not alone in the morgue. Molly smiled slightly as she thought of her daughter. “She’s got a  bit of both of us… I guess she’s definitely got her father’s tongue though.”

“Oh, god help us all.” Greg laughed.

“She’s a good kid really.” Molly smiled. “Can get into a bit of trouble but has a good heart.”

“Well, as nice as this chitchat sounds, can we turn our attention back to why we are here?” Sherlock interrupted.  “It was the brother in law. Injected her with poison but went through where she has this tattoo,” Sherlock said, pointing to a tattoo on the woman’s wrist. “It was done for the inheritance. I’m sure if you look again, Molly, you’ll see that I am correct. Really, Gavin, you told me this case was at least a seven, it barely turned out to be a three.”

Molly moved over to the body to see if Sherlock’s deductions were right. After a few more checks Molly was able to prove that Sherlock was right.

“Molly?” Greg asked. “How old is your daughter?”

“Sam’s twelve,” Molly responded with a smile.

“Oh, that’s the same age as my son.  He’s the oldest of mine. Maybe we could get them all together sometime.”

Sherlock’s head shot up immediately. For some reason, he knew he didn’t want his daughter near this boy or any boy for that matter. “After you two have finished speaking, could we wrap up this case?” he questioned bluntly.

The detective inspector made a few calls after he was finished, then he turned back to Sherlock and Molly. “Donovan is going to go arrest the brother in law.”

“Well, I’m no longer needed here,” Sherlock said before he went quiet for a moment and stared into space, it was a few moments before he spoke again. “Tomorrow. Does tomorrow evening work for both you and Sam?”

“Oh, er yes, tomorrow is fine. Is five o’clock fine?” Molly questioned.

“Yes, that’s okay. I’ll see you then,” Sherlock said before he walked right out of the lab.

Molly started to put the body away.  “Are you okay, Molly?” Greg asked while he watched her.

“I’m fine, I guess. I knew Sherlock would have to find out about Sam one day and I knew he wasn’t going to be happy with me. I … it’s just still come as a shock to hear him say those things.”

“He did cross a line, though that was a good slap you gave him back there. He had it coming if you ask me.”

Molly brought her hand up to her mouth as she gasped. “I didn’t mean to slap him. It just kind of happened. Please don’t tell anyone I did that. I can’t have it getting back to Sam somehow, she needs to see her parents getting along.”

“Don’t worry, Molly, I’m not going to say anything.” Greg smiled at her. “Look, I better go and get on with the investigation. Hope tomorrow goes okay, yeah?”

“Thanks, Greg,” Molly said to him as he went out of the morgue doors.

In the corridor, Greg found Sherlock stood against the wall staring into space. He knew from experience that the detective did this a lot. “It’s always life changing having a child come into your life,” Greg said as he patted the detective on the back.

“What?” Sherlock said.

“You might not think it now, Sherlock, but fatherhood is going to change you. You will want to do anything for her, believe me. Maybe buy her a gift or something, that would be nice.  Just don’t screw it up.” Greg patted him on the back one more time and walked off once again, leaving the detective to his thoughts.


By the time Molly got home, she found Sam reading a book while David watched a movie on the telly. “I’m home,” she called as she sat her bag down.

“Hi, Mum good day at work?” Sam asked as she put her book down.

“It was eventful, to say the least,” Molly said as she kicked her shoes off.

“Someone’s annoyed you today, who was it this time? Was it one of the new young interns?” Sam guessed.

Molly bit her lips then quickly mentally kicked herself. Sam knew this was one of her tells when she was withholding information from her. If she tried to keep this from her, Molly knew Sam would not drop the subject till she knew the truth. Better to get it over with, Molly thought.  “You are right, it was work. Sherlock came into the lab today with Greg, that detective inspector I told you about, he had a case for your father. He said a few things that were hurtful, but I know that was to be expected.”

Molly saw Sam’s face quickly changed from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. She knew what her daughter was thinking. In a moment she walked over to the sofa and knelt in front of it taking her daughters hands in hers. “Oh honey, he didn’t say anything bad about you. It was just about me, I promise.”

“He is still coming over, right?” Sam questioned with tears in her eyes.

Molly wiped them away. “Yes. In fact, he will be here tomorrow. I was thinking we could get your favourite.”

This made Sam’s face light up. “Fish and Chips?”

Molly laughed “Well, what else would we have?”

Sam thought about it for a second. “Well, we could have a roast dinner.”

Molly laughed once again. “A roast dinner on a weekday?  We only do that at Christmas.”

“I guess that’s true,” Sam said back.

“You okay now?” Molly asked as she got back up on to her feet.

“I am if you are, Mum,” Sam replied.

“I’m just okay but even better now I’m home and have seen you,” Molly said as she kissed the top of her daughter's head. “Has she been good?” Molly asked David, Sam’s bodyguard.

“Very good Ma’am. Got all her homework done,” David said. “Never in my training did I think I would be helping a client do homework, but I don’t mind.”

“Has she done her Physio?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum, I have. I swear.”

Molly looked at David just to make sure her daughter was telling the truth. “Yes, she has, Ma’am.”

“Good, you’ll just need to do it tonight,” Molly said, turning to Sam.

“I know, Mum, I know the routine.”

“If I’m no longer needed Ma’am, I’m going to head home.”

“Oh yes, thanks for watching her.”

“It’s always a pleasure looking after her,” David said to Molly. “Sam, behave for your mother.”

“Don’t I always?” she quipped back in a style that mirrored her father.

Molly snorted. It was times like this she knew without a doubt she loved her daughter and keeping her was the best decision she had made.  For all these years Sam had been hers for so long, and as of tomorrow, Sherlock was going to get to know their daughter. Molly just hoped for Sam’s sake it would all go okay.

Chapter Text

Sherlock stood at the door of Molly’s flat. It crossed his mind that this was the first time that he had ever been here. He made a mental note to remember this place - it might come in useful for a case in the future. He checked his watch. He was two minutes earlier than the time that he and Molly had decided. He knocked on the door anyway. It wasn’t long before it opened.

In front of him was Molly, her hair was up in a ponytail like it always was in the lab, though she wasn’t wearing one of her normal jumpers due to the heatwave that London was experiencing.  She was just in a plain yellow top and jeans. It made Sherlock smile slightly; this was definitely a Molly Hooper look.

“Hi Sherlock, good to see that you have made it. Do you want to come in?”

“Well, I didn’t plan to spend dinner out here,” Sherlock said as he walked into the flat.

“Okay well, this is going to be fun,” Molly said as she shut the door.

“Where’s Sam?” Sherlock asked.

“She’s in her room I’m sure she will be out in a moment when she hears your voice.”

Sherlock looked around the flat. It was very big. There was a kitchen with a few islands; from what he remembered about Molly from university was that she loved to cook, and this was a dream kitchen for her.  He walked past a wheelchair that was folded up against the wall. He guessed that it was the one from the pool the other day.  As he walked into the living room/dining area he saw many pictures of Sam, some being school pictures, others of her and Molly at the beach. There was even one of Sam when she couldn’t have been any older than seven with his parents stood outside their house in the country.

“She knows my parents?” Sherlock asked as he pointed at the photo.

“Oh yes, they get on really well. Sam loves them and they love her. She spends most school breaks with them. The only time in the holidays she is not with them is when she goes and stays with my brother and his family in America, but that’s mainly in the summer.” Molly felt herself rambling on and mentally told herself to shut up.

“So, turns out condoms don’t always prevent pregnancy,” Sherlock said. “Never thought I’d have kids, never particularly wanted them but I guess here we are.”

“Yes,” Molly said slightly trying not to show that the comment hurt. She turned away and called, “Sam your fath- Sherlock is here.”

Sam had briefly heard her parents talking in the living room. Sherlock’s voice was just that bit louder than her mother’s, so she had heard every word that he had said. Sam stood by her door giving herself a moment before she walked into the living room.

Opening the door she walked into the living room. As she got closer to Sherlock she wasn’t sure whether she should hug her dad, and at the last moment she put her hand out so he could shake it.

“Hello Sherlock, good to see you again. I’m glad you finally know about me. At least now Mycroft and others-” Sam said, turning to look at her mum, “don’t have to keep me hidden from you. I hope you're going to step up and actually be a part of my life and not just bugger off when things get too difficult."

“It’s good to see you too, Sam. I’m glad I finally know about you. I’m going to be in your life,” Sherlock said before he realised the words were coming out of his mouth. “I brought you something,” he said as he pulled a neatly wrapped package from his coat pocket.  As he handed it over, he remembered what John had said to him earlier that day. He just hoped that John would be wrong, and Sam would like it.

John walked into the living room of Baker Street to see Sherlock trying to wrap up a teddy bear. He seemed to be getting more and more frustrated with the paper each time he tried to stick it together , and to make matters much worse he had Sellotape stuck all over his hands.

“You alright there , Sherlock? Do you need a hand?”

“Does it look like I need any help ? ” the detective snapped.

“Yes, it does , s aid  John.

“It’s not easy like a box or a book ; it 's a stupid shape and it’s ridiculous - nobody can wrap this.”

“Look, I’ll help you.” John offered, sitting down in his chair. He took the wrapping paper and the s from Sherlock and began to wrap it while the detective set to work on freeing his hands. “This is for Sam, isn’t it?

“Well, I certainly didn’t buy it for you , s aid an annoyed Sherlock.

“Sherlock , I’m not saying your present isn’t a bad one , it’s just, do you think it’s a bit young for Sam ?

“Gavin suggested I buy her a gift , so that’s what I did.”

“Oh, and what did you do type into G oogle ' what’s the best first gift to buy my daughter ?'

Sherlock shifted in his chair so he didn’t have to look at his roommate. “ P ossibly , c ame his reply.

“Though there is that old saying it’s the thought that counts,” John said as he finished wrapping the last bit. He got up and handed it to Sherlock. “I hope everything goes okay tonight , mate.”

Sam looked at her mum as she took the gift from Sherlock. Molly gave her a warning look that Sam knew meant to be nice.  She looked at it slightly but couldn’t work out what it was. She slowly started to pull the wrapping paper off to reveal a small teddy. The teddy bear itself looked like an old-fashioned detective with its Victorian style clothing, pipe and magnifying glass reminding Sam of the books her grandad read to her before he died.

Sam wasn’t going to lie that she found the present really sweet but at the same time, she felt too old for it. “Aw it’s so cute,” she said in a voice that didn’t really sound like her own.

Sherlock could tell that she was putting on a face to make him feel happy. Maybe John was right, she probably was too old for the gift. “I thought 'cause I’m a consulting detective it would remind you of my work.”

“Sam, what do you say to Sherlock?”

“Thanks, Sherlock I love it.”

“How about we have some dinner before it all gets cold and we can all maybe talk. I went out and got dinner just before you got here, Sherlock, I hope fish and chips is okay with you?” Molly asked as she guided everyone to the dinner table.

“That’s perfect - fish and chips is one of my favourites,” Sherlock said.

“Mine too,” Sam said quickly.

“See, you two have something in common already.” Molly smiled. “Sam, I thought you could sit at the top of the table so Sherlock and I will be on either side of you.”

“But that’s where Grandad used to sit. We don’t use that spot cause it’s his,” Sam said.

“Sam, it will be fine for one night. I know Dad won’t mind you using it.”

Sam listened to her mum and walked over to the chair. She stood by it for a moment.

“Do you need help getting on the chair?” Sherlock asked. “I could pull it out for you if you’d like.”

“If I need help, I’ll ask for it.” Sam said abruptly as she sat down Molly gave her daughter a warning look. “But thanks for the offer,” she quickly added.

“Sherlock, do you want to sit in that chair?” Molly suggested, pointing to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“Oh, okay,” he said, taking his seat.

Molly left the two alone while she started to dish out the food. “I got you a piece of cod -that’s what you always had in Uni?”

“Yes. That’s lovely, thank you, Molly. Do you need any help?”

Molly found it odd hearing Sherlock be so polite, but she knew it was because Sam was there, and he was trying to be nice. “Sherlock, you're fine; why don’t you and Sam talk and get to know each other a little bit?”

The moment Molly said that, all the questions he planned to ask his daughter left his mind. What do you say to your child you’ve only just met who was practically a teenager? “So um, what’s your favourite and least favourite subjects in school?"

Sam rolled her eyes. He went for basic question number one. “I hate Maths and Science - they're boring and I don’t understand them.”

“You hate science,” Sherlock said, shocked. He almost wanted to laugh - how could his and Molly’s child hate science? “Molly, can you believe she hates science?”

“I know, crazy right? What are the chances?” Molly responded as she walked into the room carrying two plates of food in her hand and put them down in front of Sherlock and Sam. She left again to go grab her own and then sat down opposite Sherlock. “You’d think she would be some science whiz  but sadly, no.”

“So, what subjects do you like?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, I like English 'cause I love to write, but also drama. Pretending to be someone else is fun plus Grandma and Gramps always take me to the theatre when they come to London."

“Gramps?” Sherlock asked, slightly shocked.

“That’s what she calls your father,” Molly put in.

Sherlock found it strange to hear his own father be referred to in that way. After a couple more mouthfuls of chips, he started to ask more questions such as what were her favourite TV shows, books; what she liked to do in her spare time.

After a while, Sherlock began to run out of questions and things got a little bit quieter, that was, until Sam asked a question. "So, Sherlock, how does it feel to have a child, or do you wish the condom worked?" Molly almost kicked her as Sherlock nearly choked on his mouthful of fish.

“Sam,” Molly said using her mum voice  “you shouldn’t say that.”

Sherlock who had now cleared his airway spoke: “Molly, it’s fine.”

“No, Sherlock, Sam can’t talk to people like that; it’s rude."  She looked at her daughter. Apologise to Sherlock, now.”

“Mum, I only said it because I heard him say he never particularly wanted kids in the first place. I just wanted to know if his opinion had changed.”

“Yes, but that is something we don’t discuss at the dinner table. Are you going to apologise?”

“But, Mum?” Sam tried to say.

“I think you should go finish your food in your room. When you’ve finished and think you are grown up enough to say sorry then you can come back out and join us.”

Sam got up and grabbed her plate as she walked down the hall. As Sherlock watched her go, he quickly asked Molly a question. “By any chance, does Sam have a TV, laptop or phone in her bedroom?

Molly’s eyes went wide; she knew that all three were in her daughter’s room. "On second thoughts, go eat in the guest bedroom. The same rules apply, come out when you know you are ready to say sorry.” Molly was sure she heard Sam mutter something under her breath as she walked into the guest bedroom.  “Don’t make me ground you because you know that I will if I have to,” she called.

Sherlock expected the guest bedroom door to slam but it didn’t. “Sorry about Sam. She’s not normally that forward. Well, she can be sometimes, just not to strangers. Not that you are a stranger, but you're just new to her.” Molly trailed off.

“Molly, it’s fine,” Sherlock said as he picked up a napkin that was on the table to wipe his hands. “I’ve had far worse things said to me. You seem to have done a good job with her.”

“I try my best. My dad was good with her when I was getting back into university, and  now your family helps a lot, especially Mycroft.”

“Mycroft,” said Sherlock sceptically as he raised an eyebrow.

“I know it comes as a surprise, right? He always makes sure she has the right medical care and actually pays for her to have it privately.”

“Is that all going okay?” Sherlock asked.

“Well it’s lifelong, it’s not going anywhere, but yes, things are going okay for now. She does have surgery coming up in the summer holidays. You can come visit her in the hospital if you’d like, depending on whether you have a case or not.”

“If she wants me there, I will be there, case or no case. I could be there on the day if you’d like”

Molly thought about this for a moment. “I think I’ll leave it up to Sam.”

As Molly finished talking, Sam left the guest bedroom with an empty plate. She walked over to the table and stood next to her mother.  “I would like to apologise for my behaviour earlier, and it was wrong of me to say what I said.” she said grudgingly.

Molly wasn’t completely convinced but would let it slide just this once. “I accept your apology. Sherlock, do you?”

“Oh, er yes, of course,” the detective said uncomfortably.

“Right, with that settled, Sam, you will be doing the washing up tonight, just so I know you are really sorry for what you have done.”

“What, really?” said a frustrated Sam. "But I’ve already said I’m sorry.”

“That might be so but kitchen now, please.” Molly gestured towards the kitchen. “Oh, and you can make sure Toby gets fed while you are in there too, please.”

“Molly? Can Sam really do the washing up I mean is it safe for her to do because of her…” Sherlock started to point at his legs.

“It’s her legs that don’t work, Sherlock; her hands work perfectly fine for what I have asked her to do. Don’t try and give her an excuse to get out of it because she will use it, believe me.”

Sherlock felt slightly upset that he got it wrong. “Oh, okay.”

“Though if you’re that worried you can supervise her if you’d like,” Molly said, handing him her plate.

He took the plate and picked up his own. Once in the kitchen he saw Sam stood on a step to help her get to the sink. Height really was something she had got from Molly and not himself. 

“I’ve already put Toby’s food out.” Sherlock looked down and saw a slightly tubby cat he stepped over it to get to the sink. “I wash, you dry,” Sam said as he took the plates. “Tea towel is just there.”

“Okay,” Sherlock said as he picked the tea towel up and started to dry all the objects that had been left on the draining board. “You’ll have to tell me where all these go afterwards.”

“Can’t you deduce where they go?” Sam challenged.

“Yep,” the detective said in his normal manner, “but I would rather have you tell me.”

The two set to work in getting the washing up done and put away. They got into a nice little routine, that was until Sam spoke once again. “Mum told me you were not nice to her at Bart’s yesterday.”

Sherlock felt like he'd been put on the spot. “She did?”

“She didn’t tell me the specifics, just that it wasn’t nice and that it upset her. What she doesn’t know is that I contacted Mycroft, he’s pretty useful to have him being in charge of the British government and all. He was able to get full audio of the conversation.”

“Oh,” Sherlock gulped.

“I want to make one thing very clear with you, Sherlock. I’m going to give you two chances. If you ever treat my mum like that again and disrespect her, whether with me present or not I will know about it. If that is done twice, I don’t want anything to do with you. My mum has kept me safe for all these years. Do you think it’s been easy for me not having a father figure in my life, not having a normal family like other kids? No, it hasn’t. This is new for all of us, and I want to make it work if that’s what you want.”

“Yes, that is what I’d like if you wish.”

“So be nice to my mum, she’s my family, and I don’t like seeing her upset, she also  works very hard at her job, and looking after me is not easy.”

“I understand,” Sherlock said. He found it odd how intimidating a twelve-year-old girl could be when they had a point to prove.

“I am sorry for what I said earlier. I know Mum doesn’t believe me, but I am.”

“I know,” smiled Sherlock.

Sam finished drying the last thing and handed it to Sherlock. Once it was away, he passed her the towel so she could dry her hands. “Sherlock, would you mind helping me down?”

“What do I need to do?” he asked.

“Hold out your hands and let me hang on to them while I try to get my feet to work.”

Sherlock did as he was instructed and was able to help his daughter.

“Thanks,” Sam said shyly.

“Sam, I just want you to know, yes, the condom should have worked, quite frankly I rather it would have been nicer, but as I've now found out, its only something like 97% effective but hey, you're here, so I mean I guess that’s good. I get to try this parenting thing.” Sherlock laughed slightly as if he was telling a joke. A joke that only he got.

“Yes,” Sam said, forcing smile on to her face.

Molly walked into the room. “Aw, you’ve both finished, that’s good. Wasn’t that hard was it?”

“No, Mum,” Sam said.

Molly knew Sam wasn’t okay - something had happened. “You okay, love?”

“Fine Mum, just feeling a bit tired.” Sam faked a yawn.

Sherlock saw this and took it as his cue to leave. “I think I’m going to leave you both. Thanks for this lovely evening.”

“Thank you for coming over, Sherlock,” Molly said. “You're welcome to come over again sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Molly turned to Sam and gave her a nudge. “Yes, thanks for coming over,” Sam said uninterestedly.

Sherlock stepped forward to try and give her a hug but at the last minute she stuck her hand out for him to shake once again.

He felt a sting of pain go over him. He couldn’t work out what he did to upset her. “Maybe I can take you out on a case sometime.” Molly narrowed her eyes at him “One your mother approves of, of course.”

Sam put a smile on her face. “That would be nice.”

Molly could sense the tension from her daughter. She quickly wrapped up the conversation with Sherlock and got him out of the flat as quickly as she could. Once back in the flat she saw that Sam had moved to the living room with her phone in hand.

“Sammy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Mum, I don’t want to talk about i.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Mum I think I might go give my grandparents a call, then I might go to bed.”

Molly looked at the clock on the wall - it said 6:30 pm. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re not ill?” She walked over and put her hand on Sam’s head. It was a normal temperature.

Sam moved her head away from Molly. “I’m fine, just tired, I promise.” Sam got herself up off the sofa. Before she walked to her room, her mum kissed her on the forehead. “Love you, Mum”

“I love you too, don’t forget to take your tablets.”

“I won’t.”

“’I’ll come and check on you in a bit. Shout if you need anything.”

“Will do.” Sam walked into her room and shut the door. Now she was alone she let herself cry. Flinging her body on the bed she cried into her pillow, hoping her mum wouldn’t be able to hear her. When she felt slightly more okay, she sat up and grabbed her phone and dialled a number. Even though she was still crying she wanted to hear his voice. It wasn’t long before he picked up.

“Hello sweet pea, how nice of you to call. Are you okay?” came the voice on the other line.

“Gramps,” Sam said through tears. “I’ve met him and well I-” she gulped for air, as more tears came. “I don’t think he really wants me.”

Chapter Text

Sherlock was fast asleep in his room at Baker Street. He was enjoying a relaxing sleep, something he didn’t let himself do that often.  When he had returned to his flat the previous night, he found he had the place to himself. John must be staying over at Sarah’s tonight he thought to himself. This pleased the detective; it meant he could play the violin as much as he liked. As soon as the bow hit the strings a beautifully emotional tune came out.  The more he played the more he thought about his daughter.


His relaxed mood was short lived. Sherlock was rudely awoken by his phone ringing. He turned over and grabbed it off the bedside table. In doing so he saw that the time on the clock was 9:30 am. Who was calling him at this time? he thought to himself. Turning over the screen he saw Mycroft’s name. The detective hit the red button and tried to go back to sleep. It wasn’t long before the phone started to ring again. Sherlock rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep until this phone call was over. Begrudgingly he answered it. 


“Yes, Mycroft, what do you want? Will you be long? I was in my mind palace doing important work.”


“No, you weren’t, Sherlock, you’ve just woken up,” came Mycroft’s dry reply from over the line. “You must come to the office immediately. It’s very important.”


“Nope sorry, extremely busy. Up to my eyes in cases, must go, brother.”


Before Sherlock could hang up, Mycroft had one more line to say. “Mummy and Father are here in my office and they want to see you. They're not happy with you.”


“Well, I definitely don’t want to see them. Not after everything they have kept from me. Can’t you tell them I am busy and will call them next week…if I have the time.


“Sherlock you need to get here now,” Mycroft said in exasperation.


Sherlock wasn't given a chance to reply to Mycroft as he heard the phone taken from the other side. “Sherlock,” came his mother’s voice from the other side of the phone, “God help me if you don’t get to this office within the hour, I will drag you here by your ear. Do I make myself clear?”


“Yes Mummy.” He nodded even though she couldn’t see him.


“Good. Your brother has sent a car for you. It should be waiting outside your flat. See you when you get here,” his mother said before she hung up the phone.


As soon as the line went dead on the other side, Sherlock forced himself out of bed with a huff. He couldn’t work out why his parents wanted to see him. It’s not like it was Christmas, it was May for crying out loud.  He forced himself to get dressed, grabbing a blue shirt from his wardrobe, luckily it was one his mother gifted him for his last birthday. Maybe it would earn him a way back into her good books. Sherlock left his room to see John sat at the kitchen table with a plate of toast.


“Good morning, Sherlock,” John said, looking up from his newspaper. “Everything go okay last night?


“Is it?” Sherlock questioned. “Things went okay.”


“That’s good - small steps yeah?” John said.


“Hm,” Sherlock murmured as he picked up a piece of John’s toast off his plate.


“Hey! Get your own.”


Sherlock ignored him and put the piece of toast in his mouth as he started to walk to the door of the flat.


“Where are you going?” John called after him.


“Out,” Sherlock said, not looking over his shoulder.


“You got a case?”


“Nope,” Sherlock said popping the p as he walked out the flat.


In the car to Mycroft's office, he thought about what he could have done to make his parents come all this way. If they were to come to London, there had to be a reason and the only one he could think of was his daughter.


When he walked into the office, he saw his brother sat behind his desk with his parents sat opposite. They all watched him as he walked in. None of them looked happy. 


“Mummy, Father, how lovely to see you,” Sherlock greeted, putting a smile on his face.


“Stop pretending to be pleasant, Sherlock, sit down,” his mother said sternly as she gestured to a chair.


Sherlock did as he was told and sat down in the chair that was just behind his parents. He felt like he was at an odd parents evening as his parents and brother looked at him.


“So,” Sherlock said, “has anything happened to the two of you since I last saw you? Not much father I think, you’ve done some gardening and mother, you might have baked a little bit, nothing much life-changing. Well, let’s just see what’s happened to me, well I’ve finally found a roommate, I solved a couple of cases … oh and I met my daughter. Did you know about her? Oh, wait, I know you do. I saw a picture of the three of you together.”


“Sherlock-” his father warned.


Sherlock ignored his dad and continued speaking. “Would have been nice if you could have told me about her. Or did you want to keep her all to yourself?”


“Sherlock that’s enough!” Mrs Holmes said finally. “Sam is the reason we have come to talk to you.”


“Really.” The detective said sarcastically.


“Yes, your father got a phone call last night with our granddaughter crying down the phone, thinking you do not want her. What do you have to say for yourself?”


Sherlock’s eyes went wide, “What? I didn’t say anything like that at all. I believe I said I was glad she was here, and I get to give parenting ago,” he said defensively.


“That’s not what she told me,” Mr Holmes added to the conversation.


“Oh, and what did she tell you?” Sherlock asked.


Mr Holmes looked at his wife then at his son. “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘the condom should have worked, I rather it had - would have been nicer.”


“But I did say I was glad she was here,” Sherlock argued his point once again.


“Oh, and you think that’s what my twelve-year-old granddaughter heard, Sherlock?” Mrs Holmes said, re-joining the conversation once again. “No, what she heard was, you were a mistake and unwanted, and I now have to deal with you because I feel bad, and I have to, not because I want to but it’s what everyone else wants me to do.”


“How do you know that?” Sherlock said, raising his voice.


Mr Holmes spoke, “Because that’s what she told me on the phone last night.”


“Your father and I spent an hour on the phone last night trying to calm her down. I had to call Molly up to let her know how upset Sam was, and from the phone call I had with Molly this morning, Sam is still really upset.”


“Well I didn’t mean to upset her did I?” Sherlock said angrily, he couldn’t work out who he was angry with - his parents or himself.


“But you did, Sherlock,” Mycroft spoke to remind everyone that he was still in the room.


Mrs Holmes let out a frustrated sigh “This was why we all thought it was best you didn’t know about her, because we knew someone would get hurt and that person would be Sam.”


“So, have you come here to tell me I am not allowed to see her again?” Sherlock quipped.


“Quite the opposite,” his father said calmly. “Sam has always wanted a stable father figure in her life, but for the obvious reasons, you weren’t and well the others - that’s not my place to say,” Mr Holmes said, looking at his wife before he continued speaking. “Now I want to make sure it works not just for my granddaughter, but for my son too.”


“I get on with Sam very well,” Mycroft butted in.


“Not you,” his parents both said at the same time, looking at their oldest child.


“Just trying to defuse the tension,” Mycroft said, raising his eyebrows and giving Sherlock an 'I’m better than you' look.


If his parents weren’t there, Sherlock knew he would have swung for him. Instead, he turned his attention back to his parents. “So how do you plan to fix this?”


Mrs Holmes spoke this time. “Molly and I have decided that Sam and herself will spend the rest of half term with your father and me at our house, and you will be coming too.”


“What?!” Sherlock said, resembling a teenager who had just been punished.  “But I have cases, Molly has her job which helps with my work.”


“No, she does not have work, brother mine,” Mycroft informed him. “I may have pulled a few strings and gotten her time off.”


Sherlock slumped in his seat frustratedly. “There goes my pathologist for the week, the only competent person on the whole staff,” huffed the detective under his breath even though everyone in the room heard what he said.


“You’re coming to the house, Sherlock, I’m having no arguments,” Mrs Holmes said. “I finally want a family get together with everyone there, finally no more secrets.”


Mycroft coughed slightly and didn’t meet the woman’s eyes. “Yes, Mummy that all sounds like an excellent idea. I will arrange transport for you all.” He started to pick up a pen to write the information down.


“You're coming too,” his mother said sternly to him.


“But Mummy, I have important work to do here. I can’t possibly come to the country and play happy families.” Mycroft shivered at the last part.


“Don’t think you can get yourself out of it,” his mother repeated in the same tone as before.


Sherlock always liked seeing his brother in uncomfortable situations and found himself enjoying where this one was going, he felt a smile come on his face. “So you don’t want to see your niece who you apparently get on this well with?”


“I do get on with her, I’m in her top two favourite uncles,” he said proudly.


“Sam only has two uncles,” Mr Holmes helpfully pointed out.


This made Mycroft frown slightly. “Yes, but that’s beside the point.”


Mr Holmes knew the only way to get him to come was to use his weakness “You are coming right, Mikey? You really wouldn’t want to upset Sam, now would you?”


“No father I wouldn’t. Okay, I will come but I must bring some work with me. I can’t just leave this office and let this country fall apart.”


“Perfect,” Mrs Holmes said getting up out of her seat and clapping her hands together. “Your father and I will head home and make sure all of the rooms are set up. Maybe you two could travel down together in the same car – Just try not to kill each other.”


After his parents had left the room, Sherlock turned to look at Mycroft. “Send me a different car. I’m not travelling with you. If I’ve already got to spend a week with you it’s all too much.”


“I couldn’t agree more. I’ll have a car take you back to Baker Street to allow you to pack something, then it will take you to our parents’ house.”


Sherlock nodded his head once as his way of saying thank you before he walked out of the office, leaving his brother on his own.


Mycroft dropped his pen on the table and sighed to himself. “Oh, lord help me,” he said as he thought about the week ahead.



When Sherlock got back to Baker Street, he slammed the door and stormed up the stairs to his flat. As he entered the living room, Sherlock saw both his flatmate and landlady were both there. He internally sighed to himself. This was not what he needed right now. Mrs Hudson was dusting the fireplace while John was now sat in the armchair opposite his own, on his laptop now working on something for his blog, he hoped it wasn’t about Sam, he couldn’t deal with the rest of the world knowing about her. Just having Moriarty know was bad enough.


Mrs Hudson turned to him as he walked in. “Oh hello, Sherlock dear, Are you okay?”


“Not particularly,” he said.


Things not going as you’d like?” John asked.


Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I told you it wasn’t a case. I had to go meet with my parents.”


“And that’s a bad thing?” John asked again.


“Yes,” Sherlock said, throwing himself into his chair. “They are demanding that I go to their house for the next week to get to know Sam better.”


 “That’s so bad of them, those horrible parents of yours.” Mrs Hudson said sarcastically as she continued to dust the mantelpiece.


Sherlock ignored Mrs Hudson’s comment. “According to them I upset Sam last night.” 


“What did you do?” John asked.


“Apparently I said something about not wanting her. But she must have taken it the wrong way,” Sherlock huffed, sounding like a teenager.


“What did you say to her, Sherlock? Exact words.”


Sherlock thought back to the conversation with Sam and resaid the words out loud,  “The condom should have worked, quite frankly I rather it would have been nicer, but as I've now found out, its only something like 97% effective but hey, you're here, so I mean I guess that’s good. I get to try this parenting thing.”


John’s jaw dropped to the floor and Mrs Hudson turned to Sherlock and hit him around the head with her feather duster. “Sherlock, you can’t talk to a child like that, especially your own child!”


“That was really not good, Sherlock,” Spoke John.


“But I told her that I wanted to try parenting,” Sherlock said defensively.


John’s voice started to raise. “Well it doesn’t sound like it to me, and I’m sure that Molly and Sam didn’t hear it that way. No wonder she is upset.”



“What did Molly say to you when you said that?” Mrs Hudson questioned.


“Molly wasn’t in the room. It was just Sam and I.”


Mrs Hudson sighed, “Aw the poor love.”


“Poor love? She was the one who went and phoned my parents telling them I did something awful.”


“Sherlock!” John yelled, “Your daughter is really upset, and you are pissed off because your parents are making you spend some time to get to know her.”


“I said I was going to do that,” Sherlock moaned, folding his arms. “I was just going to do it in my own time.”


“What, and forget about her when a case comes along and pick up where you left off when the job is done?”


“I never said that, but I mean that could work.”


John clenched his fists and yelled again “Sherlock, it can’t work like that; she’s a child."


“Well, she doesn’t act like one, she is very grown up with the way she speaks. I would say she is more mature than you,” Sherlock yelled back.


“It’s most likely an act, Sherlock.” Mrs Hudson said calmly. “Like you do when you don’t want people to know how you feel, you pretend to do the opposite.”


“I don’t do that,” Sherlock said, rolling his eyes


Mrs Hudson smiled a smile which meant that she knew better. “Children are sensitive, Sherlock.”


Sherlock moaned “Too bloody sensitive if you ask me.”


“She has every right to be,” shouted John. “Your life might have changed but have you thought of it from Sam’s point of view?  She got kidnapped in the middle of the night, had explosives strapped to her, had to deal with a psychopath and then meeting you, having to tell you who she was while thinking she was going to die, and now having to let you into her life and you’re not exactly quiet - your life is dangerous.”


“Doesn’t exactly sound like fun and laughter,” Mrs Hudson added absentmindedly. “I’m surprised the child hasn’t had a mental break down.”


Sherlock thought about it for a moment. “Neither of you have children, so you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent. Sam’s fine."


John felt exasperated. “No I don’t have children and I don’t know if I will, but I know when they are not okay. If she was fine, do you think your parents would be making you go spend time with her under their supervision?”


“I don’t need their involvement, it’s because of them and Mycroft that I have only found out about her now.”


“Molly told us that she herself knew you couldn’t be a responsible parent then because of the drugs, Sherlock. It sounds like they just want to help you,” Mrs Hudson said.


“Yes,” John agreed. “I think this time might help you get to know her better. But you must not say anything like you said before.”


Sherlock nodded his head. “You possibly could be right. I'd better go pack, otherwise my mother would be after my head.”  He got up out of his chair and headed to his room but stopped first to say one more thing. “If you have written about Sam for your blog, please delete it or Mycroft will most likely be over for a little chat.”


“Bugger,” John said, “There goes a whole morning's work."


Sam got out of the car at her grandparents' house. She looked up at the place she always loved visiting. Staying there felt warm and cosy. Christmas always felt magical, she could remember going to bed wishing that it would snow and being slightly disappointed when it didn’t, though when it did snow the fun would begin. Her mum, depending if she was staying with her on that visit, would take her outside to the massive back garden to build a snowman or a hill to sledge down. Then she would go back into the house with freezing cold hands to find her grandmother was waiting for her with a hot chocolate in hand. Summers were just as fun there. Sam would play with the children who went to the local school and different games would be played. Sam always knew one thing about this place that was always the same. It was safe. Now she feared all of that was going to change.


Another reason she liked staying there was because it was a place that she knew her father had been. Before meeting him, Sam knew she had very few connections apart from the stories she could get out of the adults who knew him, the photos from his childhood and his old bedroom that she always liked to stay in. If someone had told her the last time, she was here that the next time she would be back getting to know her dad she would have laughed. This was something she always wanted and wished for, but now everything felt off and she wasn’t sure how she felt.



Sam put her arms around her middle, giving herself a hug as she looked up nervously at the house. Molly got out of the car and stood next to her. “Come on. Your grandparents are dying to see you, they want to know how school is going.”


Sam nodded, accepting this information. “Just a normal visit with my grandparents.”


“Exactly,” Molly said, putting her arm around Sam.


“That Sherlock is going to be at.” Sam added.


Molly didn’t have a chance to reply before the front door was open and her grandmother was waiting with open arms for a hug.


“Oh, Sam come here and give me a hug. I missed you so much.”


Sam’s mood lifted just a little bit as she walked forward to her grandmother.

“Hi Grandma, I’ve missed you too,” Sam said as she gave her a hug.


After the hug was finished, she took both her hands and put them on the side of her face. “Oh look at you, I swear you get more beautiful each time I see you.”


“Thanks, Grandma,” Sam said, blushing.


Mrs Holmes then turned her attention to Molly who had walked over to join her daughter. “Hello to you as well dear,” she said as she gave her a hug. “You look well too.”


Molly returned the hug. Even after all these years it surprised Molly that this warm and loving woman was the mother of Sherlock and Mycroft, two people Molly was sure had never given anyone the amount of hugs and compliments in their life as, she had given in those two minutes of their arrival.


“Hello Violet, thank you so much for inviting us.”


“Oh, don’t mention it, Edward and I love having you here.” Mrs Holmes turned her attention back to Sam. “Your grandfather is waiting in the kitchen for you.”


Sam knew this was grownup code for' your mum and I would like to have a little chat with you out of the way'. “Okay, I’ll go see him now,” Sam said, walking inside the house.


As she walked down the hall to the kitchen Sam felt oddly nervous, but she couldn’t work out why until she walked into the room where her grandad was waiting. The moment she stepped into the room it was clear why her nerves were there.

Chapter Text

Opening the door to the kitchen, Sam walked in to see her grandfather talking to Sherlock. Somehow, she had the feeling he would be there. The moment Sam stepped into the room both of the men looked up, her grandfather smiled while she just stood there and stared.

“Sam,” Mr Holmes said, walking over to his granddaughter. “Is that you? No, it can’t be?”

“It’s me, Gramps.” Sam chuckled.

“But you look so grown up surely that can’t be my little granddaughter?” he teased.

Sam laughed again. “I promise it’s me,” she said, hugging him.

“Oh, so it is.” Mr Holmes smiled, then kissed Sam on the top of her head. “Is everything well? Is school going okay?”

“School is going really well.  I am loving it – well except the homework.”

“Never was something you liked.”

Sam moaned. “It’s just so boring.”

Mr Holmes laughed to himself at how Sam sounded so much like Sherlock when he was her age. “Where have I heard that before?” he said as he hugged her once more. 

Sherlock was in the kitchen in his parents’ home. If he had been asked that morning where he would be in the afternoon, the last place he would have picked would have been his parents’ house.  He leaned against one of the countertops as his father walked into the room.

“I think they will be here soon.” Mr Holmes said to him. “Weren’t you and your brother meant to come down together?”

“Something came up with his work which delayed him. Told me to go on ahead,” lied the detective.

Mr Holmes saw through the lie but chose to ignore it. “It’s going to be okay son.”

“Okay?” Sherlock said as frustration built up in him. “I have so much anger in me right now that I don’t know what to do and I’m worried that whatever comes out of my mouth will upset my own daughter.”

“I can only say that you’ve got to give this time. For you and Sam. It’s been so long since a father figure was in her life she is bound to be closed off. She was like that with me for a while.”

Sherlock didn’t get to ask his father what he meant by that because the door to the kitchen opened, and Sam walked in. He watched how his father went over and hugged his daughter and started to have a conversation with her and how natural it was on both parts.  He could see just how comfortable they both were in each other’s company. Sherlock couldn’t help but feel jealous and wished he could interact with Sam just as easily.

“There are some cookies on the table, your grandmother just got them out of the oven before you arrived.  Quick, grab a couple before she sees, other-wise, we will both be in trouble.”

Sherlock watched his daughter walk to the table and grab one of the chocolate chip cookies off the plate his mother had left them on. “Let me guess, she will say I will spoil my dinner.”

“It’s almost as if you know her,” Mr Holmes joked.

“I agree,” Sherlock said surprising even himself as he spoke. “Eat them before Mycroft gets here overwise he won’t leave any for anyone else.”

Sam sniggered and briefly made eye contact with Sherlock. “Yes, that does sound like him.” She picked up another cookie off the plate and handed it to him.

Sherlock accepted it and started to eat it just as his mother and Molly walked in the room. “Oh, Sherlock,” the older woman said, “they were meant to be for later.”

“Sorry Mummy.” He smiled at her trying to put on his Mummy boy smile. “Your cookies are so good I couldn’t resist.”

“Well, no more, either of you,” Mrs Holmes scolded as her eyes narrowed on Sam who was licking crumbs off her fingers. “I’ve got a nice family meal planned and I don’t want you to spoil your dinner.”

“Called it,” Sam said under her breath for Sherlock and her grandpa to hear.

“What was that?” Mrs Holmes asked.

“Oh nothing dear,” Mr Holmes said, covering for Sam. “I was wondering if we should all head into the sitting room for a nice cup of tea.”

Molly walked over to Sam. “That sounds lovely.” 

“You lot go through and I’ll bring everything in,” Mrs Holmes instructed.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” Molly asked.

“No dear, you’ve just spent the last few hours driving; go on through and relax. I’ll be fine,” Mrs Holmes said, shooing her away.

With that, everyone except Mrs Holmes walked into the living room. When Sherlock stepped into the room, he was surprised to see a lot of photos of Sam and Molly amongst ones of his own childhood.  

He walked over to inspect them. In each one he could see tiny bits of himself when Sam was caught at a certain angle or the way she would look at a camera as if she was trying to work something out; he guessed this must be what he looked like when he was trying to deduce something for a case. Though he saw a lot of Molly too, there was no denying Sam was Molly’s child.

The photos varied from a very tiny Sam in her school uniform which Sherlock thought must have been from her first day at school. Another was a professional school photo, Sam and Molly stood in the backyard next to a snowman they had just built. There was even one of Sam with Mycroft but that wasn’t the most shocking thing about it. In it, Mycroft was actually smiling.

“He doesn’t do that very often,” Sam said as if she read his mind.

“What?” Sherlock said turning round to look at her, surprised.

“Smile,” Sam said, gesturing to the picture. “Surprised world peace didn’t occur when he did it.”

A small smile appeared on Sherlock’s face. She likes to make jokes about Mycroft, he thought to himself, that’s something we have in common. He turned to look back at the pictures just as his mum walked in carrying a tray with a teapot and several mugs.

As the tray was sat down Mrs Holmes looked over to see what her younger son was doing. “Oh I am so glad you know about Sam now, so I don’t have to take down the photos each time you come for a visit or have to make up some fake family member when I miss one.”

“You did that?” asked a shocked Sherlock.

“Oh yes, numerous times, always some cousin three times removed, you never questioned it. Mostly deleted it from that head castle of yours.”

Sam sniggered at the horrified look on Sherlock’s face. “It’s a mind palace.”

“Head castle, mind palace same difference. Come sit down and have this tea I made for you.”

Sherlock thought for a moment and decided to sit next to Sam. It was something so small, but he wanted to try and tread the waters lightly. He remembered what Mrs Hudson said about children feeling one way and acting another. Just because Sam spoke to him and offered him a cookie didn’t mean she had forgiven him. In some ways, he wished she would act mad and be angry at him just so he knew where he stood with her.

As he sat down, he tried not to notice that Sam moved slightly closer to Molly. Sherlock wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not. He didn’t like that; it upset him but didn’t want to let it show as not to draw attention to it.

“I have a couple more photo albums of pictures from Sam’s childhood if you want to see?” Mrs Holmes asked her son.

He looked at Molly because he wasn’t sure of what to say. She gave him a reassuring smile and a small nod of her head telling him that it was okay to look at them.

“Oh okay,” Sherlock said to his mother.

The next thing Sherlock knew, his mother had gotten up out of her chair and walked over to a cupboard where she pulled out three photo albums. Sherlock felt nerves and excitement all at once, though his mind didn’t tell his face as it looked like he had gone into buffering mode.  He was about to see photos of Sam’s life. They would help fill in the blanks and help him imagine what she would have been like at different ages. It will help me see apart of her life that I wasn’t  there for, he thought silently to himself.

 The three different albums were dropped onto his lap. Putting two of them aside Sherlock picked up the one on top and looked inside. All throughout the beginning were pictures of  Sam as a tiny baby in hospital, attached to wires and tubes. It scared him to see pictures like that.

“That was Sam when she was first born,” Molly informed.

Sherlock nodded, his way of saying that he was listening.

Sam looked over Sherlock’s arm at the pictures. “I can’t believe I was that small.”

“I can,” Molly smiled. “Sometimes I still see you in that way.

Throughout the photos, Sherlock saw his daughter grow up before his eyes. A sense of pride swelled within him at how far she had come. In one of them, he saw Sam on a walking frame looking up at the camera with a massive grin on her face.

“I remember that,” Sam said, pointing to the picture. “It’s what helped me learn to walk right?”

“Yes, and if I remember rightly you would always try and catch Mycroft’s feet if you had the chance,” Molly remembered.

Sam giggled. “Oh yes, I loved that game, it was so much fun.”

“I didn’t like it that much,”  Mycroft announced, walking into the room unexpectedly.

Everyone looked up to see him. Molly and Sam greeted him with a smile while Sherlock just sat there awkwardly with the pictures still on his lap.

“Ah, I see the family fun started without me, how delightful,” Mycroft said in a tone that didn’t convince anyone that he was glad to be there.

“You look well, Samantha,” Mycroft said as he sat down opposite her as he poured himself a cup of tea.

Sam wrinkled her face in distaste at the name her uncle had just called her.  “So do you, Uncle Mikey. Looks like the diet is working well, must mean you will be able to have one of Grandma’s cakes if she makes one.”

“Sam!” Molly warned.

Mycroft’s face closely mimicked Sam’s in the name that he had been called; he also ignored her comment. “I take it I haven’t missed much.”

“Not really, we were just showing Sherlock the photos from Sam’s childhood.” Mr Holmes informed his older son.

“Photos from my childhood?” Sam asked. “So are you implying that my childhood is over and that I am an adult?” she joked in a sarcastic tone.

“Childhood photos of years gone by then. Does that sound better?” Mycroft asked.

Sam shrugged  “Not even in the slightest but I guess it will have to do.”

Putting down the photo album on the coffee table, Sherlock picked up the next one on the pile. This one was filled with school pictures and ones of Sam in hospital showing her legs in casts. Seeing her in a hospital bed made her look even smaller. He then remembered that Molly said that Sam was going to have surgery again very soon. It made him wonder if she would be in casts this time. This would be something he would ask Molly and Sam later on when the rest of his family wasn’t there.

Near to the back of the album, a photo caught his eye. It was of a sports day race, but it wasn’t Sam running in the picture but Mycroft.

“What’s this photo all about?” Sherlock asked Sam.

She turned to look at the photo and burst out laughing. “Oh that. Well, that photo, like all good ones, has a story behind it.”

It was a sunny summer day in 2006. Molly was sat in a camping chair on a school field next to the Holmes parents watching the events of her daughter's sports day.  Even Mycroft had been convinced to come. Somehow Molly thought all Sam needed to do was use her puppy eyes and Mycroft would do anything for her. They had all come to watch Sam compete in the sports day. As they watched kids running up the lanes on the field making sure they didn’t drop the bean bag that was meant to be balanced on there head.

Molly watched as Sam finished last but with a smile on her face that she managed to keep the bean bag on her head. After being given a sticker Sam ran over to her mum to get a hug.  “Mum, I didn’t drop the bean bag and look, I got this sticker,” she said, pointing to the one that had been put on her top.

“Well done Sammy you did so well. I am really proud of you,” Molly told her daughter.

Through a megaphone, the headteacher announced the next race. “Now, would all the dads for year four like to step forwards for the Dad’s race.”

Sam frowned slightly; that was her year, but she had no dad to compete for her. “It’s a shame dad is always working on a case and doesn’t know about me. I’m sure he could have won.”

Mycroft snorted slightly; he would pay a lot of money right now to see Sherlock compete in this race.

She felt her grandfather put his hand on her shoulder.  “I would have entered for you Sam, but you know how my knee has been lately.”

“It’s okay Gramps,” Sam said with a tear in her eye, “I understand.”

“Mycroft could enter,” Grandma Holmes suggested.

“What?” the slightly worried uncle questioned. “I  couldn’t possibly - look at me I’m in a suit. It’s not made to run in.”

“That’s your own fault, it’s sports day. On the letter I took home to mum it said to wear your P.E kit.”

“But that was for you,” Mycroft argued with his niece.  “Not for me.”

Sam turned on her puppy dog eyes and pursed her bottom lip. Molly had seen this look from Sam before when she was trying to get something she really wanted.

“I will most likely lose,” Mycroft tried to reason.

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn't try. That’s what Mum always says. You never know unless you try.”

“The last call for the dad race for Year Fours,” the headteacher's voice came again

Mycroft looked at Sam one more time and relented. “Fine.”

“Yes! Thank you, Uncle Mycroft, you’re the best.”

As Mycroft walked to the start line to join all the other dads, Sam turned to the rest of the family “I bet he will come last.”

“Oh no, I know my boy. He might not be very athletic, but he won’t come last. Holmes never come last.”

“I just did,” Sam pointed out.

“Oh yes, you did dear,” Mrs Holmes said, feeling embarrassed. “But Mycroft won’t.”

“Want to put money on that?” Sam asked. “I have a fiver in my piggy bank at home.”

“Okay, you're on.” Grandma Holmes said, shaking Sam’s hand.

Molly whispered to Mr Holmes “I really shouldn’t allow her to gamble at this age.”

“Don’t worry about it, if Sam loses it will be a teaching moment on not to bet money because you are most likely going to lose it.”

“On your marks,” the voice of the head teacher came bringing their attention back to the race. “Get set, GO”

As the race started, Mycroft looked to be in the lead, that was until all of the dads gained speed and managed (with ease) to get ahead of him. The style that the British government ran could only be described in one fashion. It was very Mycroft. He looked awkward and uncomfortable all at once.

Sam loved it. Behind her, Molly was taking pictures while Mr Holmes laughed his head off. Beside him, his wife was yelling “Come on Mikey, you can go faster than that.”

“Yeah, pretend there is cake at the end of the line,” Sam added.

Almost as quickly as it started, not quick enough for some. Mycroft was the last to cross the finish line.

As he did, Sam looked up to her grandma with a cheeky grin on her face. “Can I have that fiver now?”


“You bet money that I’d come last?” asked a shocked Mycroft as Sam finished her story.

 “Yeah, and I’m very proud you did because I got money out of it.”

That should have been me. I would have won the race for Sam, thought Sherlock, feeling an unexpected flicker of jealousy.        

“If I had been there, I would have won that race for you,” Sherlock said out loud to Sam as he gave his brother a smirk that said he could do something better than him.

“I highly doubt that, brother mime.”

Mrs Holmes could see that an argument was going to begin between her sons if she didn’t try and break it up soon, she knew it was time to intervene. “Boys, I want no arguing on the first day. Mikey, why don’t you come help me in the kitchen prepare dinner while Sherlock continues looking at the photos?”

Mycroft didn’t really want to argue with his mother, so he decided to do as he was told and followed her into the kitchen. As Sherlock once again went back to looking at the pictures, he found himself becoming even more interested.

At another, he saw Sam and Mycroft at a football game. This gave him an idea that he could possibly take her to one as a bonding experience. “Oh, do you like football?”

Molly laughed. “Not in the slightest.”

Sherlock looked back at the picture, confused .”So what's the picture for?”

Mr Holmes spoke, “Sam knew Mycroft would hate it, but she batted her eyelids and he took her. It was hell on earth for him, but Sam found it to be the funniest thing ever, seeing him be uncomfortable for ninety minutes.”

“I was upset it didn’t go into extra time, otherwise we would have been there longer,” Sam said absentmindedly.

Sherlock felt really proud of his daughter, it made him laugh that they both enjoyed winding up Mycroft. Under his breath he muttered, “That's my girl.”

A small smile appeared on Sam’s face. 

At dinner everyone sat around the table to eat all the lovely food that had been prepared. The atmosphere felt odd to Sherlock. He had never seen his parents and brother act so relaxed. It was almost as if they had been swapped with lookalike actors and he was a character in a play who had forgotten all of his lines.  This was the thing with parenting that he was just starting to understand, just because it was going okay an hour ago doesn’t mean something bad won’t happen in the next ten minutes and for some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

All around him stories were being swapped though he couldn’t hear the words to any of them. He felt like he was an outsider in his own family.  A nudge to his hand broke his train of thought. He looked in the direction it came to see that Molly was looking at him.

“Are you okay?" she whispered.

He cleared his throat and sat himself up just a bit straighter. “Err, yeah, just fine.” Now he tried to tune back into the conversation as Sam started to speak.

“Gramps, do you remember the time we almost burnt down the kitchen?”

“How could I forget?”

“What caused that to happen?” Sherlock asked.

“Gramps and I decided to cook Grandma’s special chocolate cake as a surprise for her when she went out with some of her friends to celebrate her birthday, but after we put it in the oven we went and watched a movie and got a little side-tracked.”

“We remembered the cake was in there once the smoke alarm went off and we could smell burning,” Mr Holmes added to the story.

“Grandma did get a surprise. Just not the one we planned for.”

“It was the thought that counted,” Mrs Holmes said to her. “So, I just wanted to talk about sleeping arrangements. Mikey, I take it you will be wanting your old room?”

“Yes, Mother, that would be preferred.”

“Molly, I have set up one of the guest bedrooms for you.”

“Thank you,” Molly said.

“Sherlock, I have set up the other guest bedroom for you too.”

“Why can’t I stay in my old room?” Sherlock argued. “I’ve already put my bag in there.”

“Because Sam is staying in there. It’s where she always sleeps when she visits.”

“I don’t mind having the guest room.” Sam offered.

Sherlock felt a bit ashamed of himself. “Oh no if it’s where you always sleep then you should sleep there – the guest bedroom will be just fine.”

“Thanks, Sherlock,” Sam said.

After dinner, Sam excused herself and went upstairs because she wanted to be by herself for a little bit to listen to some music and to just think. Not long after she came up, there was a knock on the door. Pulling out her headphones and turning off the music she called out to the person at the door. “Come in.”

To her surprise, Sherlock walked in carrying her bag with her clothes in. “Your mother asked me to bring this up for you.”

“Thanks, Sherlock.” Sam said, not looking at him while she fiddled with her headphone wires.  Now that they were on their own, things felt very awkward.

Sherlock grabbed the desk chair and sat opposite her. “Sam, I just wanted to say, what I said to you last night was not the right thing and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been hurt, don’t worry about it.”

“I am sorry for how it made you feel. I really didn’t think the words would make you feel that way. What I am trying to say is that I want to be in your life.”

“I know you're angry at Mum and Mycroft and your parents for keeping us apart. I am too, you know I always read everything about you. All your cases, stuff in the newspaper, John’s blog, even your own blog, though the bit about the tobacco ash was boring, I still read it because it was a connection to you.”

“So, you're one of the only visitors to my blog,” Sherlock joked.

Sam felt a smile come on her face. “I guess you could say that. All my friends at school think I am obsessed with you and that I fancy you,” Sam said, pulling a face at that thought. “They don’t know the truth at school about you being my dad, well at least the student’s don’t, but the teachers know just in case. I go by Mum’s last name on the register. Mycroft sorted it all out. Not many people know I am Holmes, it’s done to protect me.”

“Though it didn’t stop Moriarty finding out about you,” Sherlock said, clenching his fists.

“I guess one always does slip through the net.” Sam added, “I also almost came to Baker Street a couple of times to tell you who I was.”

“Why didn’t you?” Sherlock asked.

“I guess I built this image of you up in my head and I  was scared I might have been rejected,” Sam said honestly.

“I wish you had,” Sherlock said.

It went quiet between the two once again and Sherlock could hear John’s voice in his head telling him to say sorry once more. “Sam, I just want to apologise once more. It was not good of me and I will do better in the future.”

Sam looked up at her father. “Sherlock, you might be a consulting detective, but I don't want a consulting dad.”

“What do you want from me?" Sherlock asked.

“Someone who is there for me, who can look out for me and be there for me when I know no one else will. That if I text them in the morning there will definitely be a text back at the end of the day if not before.”

“I can do that,” Sherlock said.

“There is one more thing,” Sam said, not looking at him.

“What’s that, Sam?”

“I want someone who can love me. Like Mum and your family do.”

Sherlock knew he cared about his daughter as he did for the rest of his family, but he wasn’t sure how he could show this to her. “I can do all that.” He gulped, he hoped Sam was more convinced by his words than himself.

“I know you’ll try. I know you’ll learn – we both will.”

“Let’s make a deal. I’ll always honest with you and you’ll always be honest with me,” Sherlock said. “If I say something that hurts you, tell me to my face and how it made you feel, and I’ll try not to keep anything from you. Deal?”

“Deal,” Sam said, shaking his hand.

Sherlock saw Sam’s phone on her bed. “Can I borrow that for a moment?

“Oh – err okay,” Sam said as she unlocked it and handed it over.

Sherlock tapped on the screen for a few moments then handed it back. After doing so he got up out of the chair and put it back at the desk and walked to the door, picking up his own bag on the way, Before leaving the room he said one more thing. “You might want to come down in a minute. Mummy is insisting that we must all play  board games so we can have family bonding time.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam said, “I’ll be down in a bit”.

Sherlock left the room and Sam was once again on her own. A moment later her phone buzzed.

Join my team and we can beat Mycroft – SH

Sam laughed. She liked the sound of that.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days the family, if it could be called that, spent a lot of time getting to know each other. It was nowhere near perfect or anywhere near that at all. Sherlock was beginning to learn more and more about his daughter each day. Her likes and dislikes, more stories from her childhood and anything else she was willing to tell. He started to build a room in his mind palace about his daughter and each day it grew and grew just that little bit bigger. He promised himself and silently to Sam that he would try his best to keep all of the information.


On this particular day, Molly and Sherlock were planning on working out a schedule for Sherlock and Sam to have more time together.


“Well, Sam tries to come back every other weekend from boarding school,”  Molly informed him. “Maybe she could stay with me on one visit back and you the other?”


Sherlock thought for a moment then realised that if Sam was to stay over then she would have nowhere to sleep. He could ask Mycroft if he would pay to have the bottom flat fixed to benefit his dear niece but that didn’t seem like an option without Mycroft wanting something in return. There was the option of him giving up his room for Sam and then letting himself sleep on the sofa.


“Sam wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep if she stayed at Baker Street.”


Molly thought for a moment. “Well maybe Sam can still sleep at my flat but spend the day with you?”


“That could possibly work.” Sherlock stopped to think about it. “But I couldn’t possibly be able to say if I will be working on a case one week to the next.” 


“We need to have a schedule,” Molly said. “So Sam sees us both equally.”


“Why does she have to go to boarding school anyway?” Sherlock asked infrustration.


“Because it’s a mainstream school that accepts people with disabilities, Sherlock,” Molly told him.


“But don’t they have any schools like that in London?”


“Yes, but having Sam away outside of the city means that I can carry on with my job and help you with your cases. Which most of the time is at the drop of a hat and it keeps her safe out of the public eye.”


“Wow make a girl feel wanted why don’t you,” said Sam sarcastically, who both Sherlock and Molly had forgotten was in the room with them. 


“Sorry, love.” Molly replied. “I thought you liked the school you go to?”

“I do, Mum. It’s fine.”


Molly turned her attention back too Sherlock. “So you’ll pick Sam up on the weekends then return her in the evening.”


“I mean I can try and do that. I would hope not to draw attention to myself though, you never know what nutcase is out there and what they will do.”


“Sam does have a bodyguard that could go out with the two of you if you're that worried.”


Sam smiled. “David’s really lovely.”


Sherlock was not impressed by this idea. “I don’t need to be babysat whilst spending time with Sam.”


“Yes,but your life is dangerous, Sherlock.” Molly pointed out. “I don’t want my daughter getting hurt over something you might not have thought about.”


“Our daughter,” Sherlock corrected.


“Yes our daughter, I’m sorry. Look, I’m just scared something might happen. Didn’t the flat opposite yours just blow up a few weeks ago? What if Sam had been there then? What if it happens to your flat while Sam is there? These are the things that I worry about.”


Mr Holmes, who was sat in the room, watched Sam very closely as he watched her slightly grab her chest and rock a little bit back and forth. This worried him. “Sam, are you okay?”


His words grabbed both Sherlock and Molly’s attention as they both looked to there daughter.


“Struggling to breathe.” Sam said, gasping for air as tears filled her eyes “Mum – can’t breathe!”


“Oh god, is she okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?” Sherlock asked Molly as he got his phone out.


More gasps for air came from Sam as more tears ran down her face. It suddenly clicked to Molly what was happening. “She is having a panic attack.”


Sam’s chest felt really tight as she wanted to take a breath but each time she did, it felt like she wanted to gasp for more. “Mum – want – to breathe.”  Sam felt as if she was going to die, that was the only thought that kept running through her head, that she was going to die.


“What do you do when this happens?” Sherlock asked, freaking out.


His question didn’t get answered as his father moved closer to Sam and with a bit of difficulty got onto his knees, so he was at eye level with his granddaughter, taking her hand in his. In a soft voice he gave her instructions. “Sam, I want you to start taking some breaths with me, okay? In on the count of three. One, two, three, now out on the count of three.”


Nobody spoke as the older man helped his granddaughter. It took a bit of time, but Sam slowly was able to get her breathing under control. She felt embarrassed that it had happened.  Once Mr Holmes was back on his feet, he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You okay?”


“Yes, thank you,” Sam managed to get out. A part of her was worried that just by talking it would start all over again.


She went to dry her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket when Sherlock took the handkerchief that was in his top pocket and handed it to her. “Here, take this.”


“Thank you,” she said, wiping her eyes with it.


 Sam leaned against Molly who opened her arms and hugged her daughter.  “What brought the panic attack on, love? Do you have any idea what it was?”


Sam sat there thinking for a few minutes. The adults waited quietly for her response. “It was when you and Sherlock we're talking about who I will be spending weekends with. Then all that talk about being in danger brought back all the scared feelings from when Moriarty kidnapped me. I haven’t really stopped and thought about it just pushed to the back of my mind and then it all just built up and hit me in that moment and then I couldn’t breathe.”


“The last few weeks have been really tough and a lot to deal with.”


Sam nodded. “And Dad’s famous, everyone in the country knows who he is. I like not being known. I want to be like Hannah Montana.”


“Hannah Mon-who?” Sherlock asked, confused.


“It’s a tv show about a girl Miley who lives a double life. She created this fake pop star persona and wears a wig. She can be famous when under the name Hannah but can live a normal life as Miley. What I’m trying to say is I don’t want the media or your fans finding out about me. I want my life in that way to stay the same and not have to give it up, even if it meant living as two different people. I still want to be me. Someone unknown.”



“I can’t promise that something won’t leak out, but I know Mycroft and I won’t let that happen personally.”


Sam nodded and got up off the sofa to give her grandad a hug. “Thanks for helping me, Gramps.”


“Anything for my favourite granddaughter,” Mr Holmes said.


Sherlock felt jealousy fill inside him. He wished that he could be the one getting a hug from Sam.





Soon afterwards Mr Holmes lead his son out to the shed in the back garden. Molly was in the kitchen just once again making sure that Sam was okay. Sherlock did wonder to himself why his father had brought him out there but didn’t ask because he knew it wouldn’t be long till he got an answer.


“Wait here,” Mr Holmes instructed as he went inside the shed. In less than a minute Mr Holmes came back with two shotguns and a box with glass bottles in which was handed to Sherlock, “Carry this and follow me.”


Not having a chance to say anything to his father as he walked on ahead Sherlock begrudgingly followed; neither of them spoke as they walked. When they got to the end of the Holmes estate, his father stopped walking.


“Would you mind putting the box down?”


Sherlock put the box on the ground and watched him as his father opened it and removed a couple of what looked like old jam jars. Not far away was an old tree stump Mr Holmes put the two jars down then walked back to Sherlock and handed him one of the shotguns.


“Shoot at them, I know you want to.”


Loading the gun, Sherlock shot and fired, breaking both jars in just two shots. “What is this meaningless activity for?”


“Because you need to get your anger out, son.”


Mr Holmes set up five more jars and let Sherlock shoot. Once again, he broke them all first time around.


“Feeling any better?” Mr Holmes asked.




Mr Holmes moved to an old bench that had been there longer than anyone could remember and gestured for Sherlock to join him.  Once his son was sat down next to him, he spoke. “Why do you feel angry?”


“Is that question meant to be stupid?”


“Tell me why, Sherlock.”


“I am angry because everybody lied to me for twelve years, I’m angry that my own flesh and blood was kept from me and the only reason I get was because of the drugs. I’ve been clean for a few years now. Why didn’t anyone tell me then?  Why did it take a psychopath to kidnap her and put her in danger before I learnt the truth? I’m angry that I don’t know what to say to my own daughter out of fear that I will upset her and I’m jealous at how she looks up to you.”


“It wasn’t always like that with me and Sam,” Mr Holmes said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I was once in the same position you are in, but it took time.”


“But she calls you Gramps? How could she not have always called you that?”


“I wasn’t her only grandfather. Molly’s dad was Sam’s favourite person in the world. She was named after him. Back then she only went by Sammy. He took care of her and raised her while Molly did all of her studies.  Your mother and I were in her life then, but we would only see her every few months and be kept up to date on everything and send her birthday and Christmas presents. We were not the best grandparents to her. Not like Sam Sr. was.”


“Where is he now?”


“He got sick when Sam was just over a year old and died when she was five. It broke her heart. After that she requested that everybody call her Sam to make her feel closer to him.”


“Oh,” Sherlock said, not knowing what else to say.


“After that, your mother and I knew we needed to play a bigger part in her life, as we were the only grandparents she had left. We wanted her to feel safe.”


“How was she?”


“It was difficult at first, she became very close to your mother and would shy away from me. Wanted nothing to do with me. Found it hard to even look at me.”


“I know that feeling,” Sherlock said. “How did you get through to her?”


Mr Holmes thought for a moment. “I took her out here, sat her down here where you are right now and just asked her what was wrong.”


“What did she say?”


“She told me that she didn’t want to get too close to me because she had already lost one grandfather, she didn’t want to get close to me in case she lost me too. She was guarding herself so she wouldn’t get hurt. I told her that I didn’t plan on going anywhere and that I was here for her. It took time but we got there. That’s the journey you’re on, Sherlock.”


“And I’ll get there?” Sherlock asked, wanting reassurance.


“Of course. I have faith in you and Sam. Molly’s dad loved both those girls so much as does your mother and I. They're a part of our family and they have just joined yours.”


Sherlock got up off the bench and added another jar to the tree stump before shooting it. A part of him felt better that he knew he might be able to get through to her with time. A thought struck his mind. “You said a father figure left Sam’s life. Was Molly’s dad that one?”


Mr Holmes stayed silent for a moment. “He was one of them.”


“One of them?” Sherlock questioned. “So there was someone else?”


Mr Holmes sighed slightly. “Sherlock, it’s not really my place to tell you this part. I think that needs to be done by Molly. If you bring the topic up, please be polite about it and do so when you know Sam will definitely be out of earshot.”


Sherlock knew better than to try and get more information out of his father. For now, this would be a conversation set on pause on which he planned to ask Molly about at a later time.


“Come on,” Mr Holmes said. “We better get back to the house before your mother finds out I’ve taken the shotguns out again, I don’t think she will be too impressed that you shot the glass that was meant for the recycling.”


“But it was your idea to have me shoot them. And why did you bring out two guns if you only intended for me to shot?”


“I knew I wouldn’t be able to get you out here unless both guns were brought along.” Mr Holmes went silent for a moment, then he changed the subject. “I am sorry we did keep Sam from you, Sherlock. I guess in hindsight we should have told you about her when you got clean. It would have been better for the both of you.”


“Indeed it might, but I guess we can’t change that now. Father, you were so good at stopping Sam’s panic attack. How did you know what to do?”


“Sam had a few when she was younger after her grandfather died. I guess it was just the instinct from that time kicking back in. Though it hasn’t happened for a long time.”


“She’s going to be okay now though?”


“I think she is going to be just fine.”


“I wish I could have known what to do,” Sherlock admitted, “instead of freezing up and freaking out.”


“You will Sherlock, like I said you just need to give it time. I’ll take everything back to the shed. Go spend time with your daughter, the week's almost over and she will be back at school before you know it.”


Sherlock handed the box of jars back to his dad and walked into the house to find Molly and Sam watching a film. “Your Mum is still out shopping, and Mycroft had to head back to London due to some important meeting so we thought we would watch a movie,” Molly informed him.


“Would you like to join us?” Sam asked.


Movies weren’t normally his thing but something in him couldn’t deny that he wanted to sit down with them and watch.


“Okay.” Sherlock smiled as he sat down next to Sam.


“You haven’t missed much,” she told him, passing a bowl of popcorn for him to grab a handful which he gladly accepted.


“No spoilers though, Sherlock. I remember what you were like in university, never could go to the cinema without you predicting how the whole thing was going to turn out,” Molly said to him.


“That was one time,” the detective spoke with a mouth full of popcorn.


“Shhh,  I’m trying to watch the movie,” Sam said, getting annoyed.


“Sorry,” both her parents said at once. All three of them turned their attention back to the film, silently enjoying every moment of it.


When the week was over Sherlock was sad, though he would never admit that out loud to anyone. He was glad that his parents had forced him to go because now he felt closer to Sam and he had more of a chance at being a better person in her life.


When Sam got back to her room at boarding school late Sunday evening,  she found being back on her own at school with no family around gave her time to think. She was slowly getting her head around having Sherlock in her life. He was nice and trying his best, Sam thought, but a part of her deep down was scared of getting seriously hurt again, which was something she didn’t want. All she knew was that she didn’t want to get hurt.


I’m at school in one piece. Wish it was half term again. Miss you.  S xxx


Sam texted her mum it wasn’t long before she got a reply.


That’s good to hear love, I miss you too, not long till summer and I will see you in a couple of weeks. Love you - Mum xxx


Sam smiled to herself, imagine her mum at work on a break with a cup of tea and biscuits with the long lab coat the always looked like a cape. A cape Sam thought that reminded her of Sherlock’s coat from the pictures and stories her mum told her about when she was younger.


Thinking of Sherlock, she hadn't messaged him since leaving London and thought he might like to know that she got to school safely.


Got to school okay. I had a nice time last week. Hope you solve a  few good cases- S xxx


It took her a moment, then she decided to delete the kisses off the text. It didn’t seem right to send that to him. Not yet anyway.  Once editing the text she hit send.  Sam stared at the screen, her train of thought was broken as her roommate Jen came through the door.


“Oh Sam, it’s good to see you,” Jen said as she dumped her bag on her bed. “I know this must sound stupid but I’m glad to be back here. Family stuff has just been awful.”


“I’m sorry about your aunt. Is she going to be okay?”


Jen’s mood dropped slightly.  “They have her stable for now but it’s just a waiting game. But enough about me. How are you? Stacey texted me that you left school in the middle of the night. What happened there?”


Sam blushed. She knew there was no chance she could ever tell the truth. “It’s complicated - family stuff, you know what it’s like.”


Jen narrowed her eyes. There was something Sam was not saying but knew this was not the time to ask more. “Yeah. Can’t pick your family.”


“Tell me about it.” Sam smiled.  “Was your half term okay? Well, considering everything?”


Jen turned away from Sam started to unpack her bag “Apart from that it was okay. Well how about you? Your half term any good?”


Sam felt her phone buzz and looked at the screen. She had a text from Sherlock.


Seems Mycroft’s people are capable of getting you to places safely. I had a pleasant week too. I’m sure an interesting case will happen soon. Try not to get up to too much trouble at school. We wouldn't want Molly being upset at you - SH


Sam smiled to herself as she stared to text out a reply.


Can’t promise about not getting into trouble - S


“Sam,” Jen shouted. “Hello, earth to Sam Hooper.”


Sam looked up quickly. “Sorry, what?”


“Did you have a good half term?” 


Sam looked at her phone again as another text came through. “Yeah I really did.”  she looked at the text as her roommate asked another question.


“Want to head to dinner?”


Sam read the text from Sherlock and smiled “Yeah, I’m starving.” Getting up off her bed she put her phone in her pocket and headed to the dinner hall with her roommate in tow.  As they walked the text from Sherlock ran around her mind.


You’re a Holmes. Trouble always finds you - SH.

Chapter Text

Cases came and went for Sherlock once he got back to Baker Street though he wasn’t impressed with John’s current writings for his blog, especially considering the fact that he wanted to write about the unsolved cases. Sam wouldn’t read about the unsolved cases, he thought to himself as he carried out an experiment.

Science class is horrible, and the teacher doesn’t know how to explain anything, Mum could teach it all better than him, also when I come to visit next weekend please say you’ll do my homework for me – S

Texting had become a recurring thing between father and daughter. He was keeping up his promise to try and be a presence in her life. At the moment he was texting her daily even if it was just the one a day when he had cases, at least he was trying to show that he cared. He hoped Sam saw that.

Your mother most likely has a higher IQ than that of the teacher. I’m not doing your homework for you … this time. – SH

A response came through only moments later.

Shame I thought it would be nice to have a good grade for once - S

“You’ve been getting a lot of texts lately,” John said as he finished on his blog. “Any new cases?”

“Nope.  Just me trying to keep in contact with my daughter.”

“Well as long you are not rude to her like you were with those two little girls, I think we will be okay.”

“That wasn’t intentional I was just telling them the truth it would save them time. Easier to learn now that the world isn’t as nice as their parent mostly makes it for them. Maybe I should have saved them the time and told them Father Christmas is not real too.”

And the father of the year award does not go to you.”

Before having a chance to respond, Mrs Hudson walked through the door. “Sherlock, I have just got off a phone call from Molly.”

A puzzled expression crossed his face. “Why were you talking to Molly?”

“Because it’s your first weekend of having Sam, I wanted to make a little celebration out of it and well, I didn’t know what she likes to eat, and I couldn’t exactly ask you now, could I?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “A celebration - do we really need to blow this out of proportion?”

“Well, maybe not a big celebration, just a nice tea. I would love to get to know her Sherlock, I expect she will be spending a lot of time here.”

When Sherlock decided to get back to his experiment and not respond, John stepped in “That sounds lovely, Mrs Hudson. I’m sure Sam will love it.”

“I doubt that,” Sherlock muttered under his breath as he turned back to his experiment.

Getting back to school felt odd for Sam. Her whole life outside of her education had changed and nobody even knew it.  A part of her wanted to tell Jen her roommate this secret. But deep down she knew she couldn’t take the risk of her secret getting out, and if it did the whole school would know by the end of the week. 

“Are you heading out this weekend or spending it here?” Jen asked her as they walked across the courtyard on their way to the last lesson of the day.

“After lessons end, I’m heading back up to London to spend it with family,” Sam said as she  grabbed the railing helping her walk up a couple of stairs.

“Don’t blame you wanting to get away from this place for a few days. Mum’s picking me up late tonight as well. I think a lot of people will be going away seeing as it’s Father’s Day on Sunday.”

Sam stopped walking for a moment. She had completely forgotten.

“You okay?” questioned Jen.

Sam was grateful at that moment she had her disability to use as an excuse. What else was it here for? she laughed to herself in her head. “Yeah, I’m fine, just sharp pain in one of the scars; should go in a little bit.”

For so many years Father’s Day had been just another day; she always knew it was coming when the cards started to appear in shops and the adverts on the telly became a constant reminder. After twelve years of not having her dad in her life, well at least her biological dad, she became very good at being able to block it out.

Jen seemed to sense what had changed Sam’s mood slightly, even though she had never revealed who her father was to Jen, knew details of the story - that her dad wasn’t in her life, but she saw his side of the family. “Oh shit, sorry I wasn’t thinking Father’s Days must be rough for you?”

Sam didn’t look at her friend and continued walking into the building to lift. “Just another day really.”

Deep down both girls knew that was a lie.

Sherlock and Molly both sat in silence wondering why they had been called into Mycroft’s office, the older man hadn’t explained why he needed their presence at his office, but both knew better than to try and get out of coming.

The silence in the room felt heavy and uncomfortable. It was the first time that Molly and Sherlock had properly been on their own since the truth about Sam came out, though they had had a slight conversation with each other back in Molly’s flat when Sherlock had come over for dinner for the first time, that was different because Sam had only been in the other room. With her not being there or having a case for her to help with as an excuse not to talk about their situation made it difficult so they just sat next to each other waiting for Mycroft.

Molly half wondered if he would just randomly appear in front of them with a cloud of smoke, like the vampire she often thought he was. As time slowly dragged on, she fiddled with her fingers while she tried her hardest not to look at the detective sitting next to her. Sherlock sat there bored out of his mind, wishing he could look on his phone and try and solve a few easy cases while he waited.  As he was just about to get his phone out of his pocket, his brother walked in.

Mycroft shut the door to his office and walked to his desk. “Ah, Sherlock, Doctor Hopper. Glad to see you both have made it. Sorry for the delay, I got called to a brief but very urgent meeting though that is all sorted now.” He smiled smugly.

“Why are we here, Mycroft?” asked an impatient Sherlock.

“Patience, brother mine. I was just about to tell if I had been given the chance.”

Molly forced herself not to roll her eyes. What was it with the Holmes brothers and their drama and love for suspense.  “Mycroft, is this important?”

“Of course it’s important.” he replied. “I wouldn’t have called you both here otherwise. I think it’s about time we all sit down like adults and talk about Sam. I would have done this at my parents’ house, but I didn’t want to risk her overhearing anything she might not like. As we learnt over the last couple of weeks, she can be very sensitive at times.” Mycroft shot a dirty look to his brother at the end of his sentence.

Sherlock was about to bite at Mycroft’s comment when he felt Molly’s hand on his wrist which brought him back to the reason he was there.  “So what do you want to discuss with us?”

Mycroft looked at them both bluntly as he opened a file on his “Samantha knows about the little disagreement you two had in the morgue at Bart’s. After you told her about the argument, she contacted me for audio of it.”

Molly gasped. “You have devices that record what people say at my work?”

Mycroft‘s facial expression didn’t change. “They're not there because of you, Molly, but for reasons I am not legally allowed to tell you.”

“I know all of this already. Sam told me she knew and wasn’t happy with me about it.” Sherlock admitted. 

“Oh.” Molly gasped again. “So she really has listened to it.”

“If you are worried that Samantha knows about the slap, a good one too I must add, she doesn’t. I made sure the audio cut out just before it happened.”

Molly breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t have my niece hearing the whole thing at a time like that. It would not have been a good situation for any of us.”

"Is this the only reason you have called us here?” Sherlock queried as impatience once again got the better of him.

“No, there was one more thing.” Mycroft smiled. “If it’s okay with the both of you, I am planning on picking Samantha up after school. I would like to talk to her about a few things, so it seemed like a perfect time and I don’t want to encroach on your first weekend with her, especially considering it’s Father’s Day on Sunday.”

“Wait is it?” Molly asked, shocked another time at the meeting. “I should have checked. I’ve just been so busy with work.”

“Why are you getting worried? It’s just a stupid, made-up holiday to make money for companies,” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.

Molly turned to look at Sherlock. She had such softness in her eyes as she looked at him. “Sherlock, it might be a bit difficult for Sam. This is going to be the first Father’s Day you are in her life. Sam is going to act as if it’s no big deal but if I know my daughter. It will be hurting her on the inside.”

“We could always cancel this week and she can come and visit me next week. I mean it will give me a chance to solve a big case to impress her,” the deceive said as he started to tail off into his own thoughts.

“Sherlock,” Molly said gently, her hand resting on top his own. “As nice as that idea sounds, I don’t think it would work. Sam might feel rejected again; we might just have to bite the bullet. We can’t avoid Father’s Day forever.”

Sherlock looked at Molly unsure of what to say next. It was small moments like this when she would talk to him and slowly be able to comfort him that took him right back to when they were at university and how it began over a decade ago.

Mycroft coughed, breaking the moment. “With that settled, I should have Samantha at your flat by about six o’clock. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have to start travelling to make sure I will be there on time to pick her up. Oh, and one last thing, I think at some point you two will need to talk about it to each other.”

“Talk about what?” Sherlock questioned.

“This,” Mycroft said, gesturing between Sherlock and Molly. “It’s very awkward to watch the two of you and I think it would be best for everyone if you talked; well, when you both are ready of course and quite preferably when no one else is around. It seems like something you both need to do in private.”

After Mycroft finished his sentence, he bade them both goodbye leaving the room so he could pick his niece up, leaving behind Sherlock and Molly who would delay having that convocation till another time.

Sam was glad that she had packed her bag to head back to London the night before, it allowed her enough time to get changed out of her school uniform and find something more comfortable to wear.  Once she was changed, she put her bag on the back of her chair just as she had done so she received a text from her bodyguard.

In the car park waiting for you. We are ready to go when you are, don’t rush if you don’t need to – D

Going back to quickly grab the headphone off her bed, she felt as if she had everything, she would need for the two-hour journey back to London.  Sitting in her chair she clipped the seat belt and set out to the car park.

When she got to the car, she saw David was stood next to it waiting for her. “Hey, Sam, ready to head back to the city?”

Sam ignored the question as she looked at the funny expression on his face “something’s different, what’s wrong? What are you not telling me?” She questioned calmly.

David laughed slightly. “You’ll see in a minute.” He smiled as he opened the door to the car for her.

As Sam climbed in, she saw her uncle was sat facing her.  “Oh, Mycroft.”

“Well, that was a nice way to be greeted, Samantha,” Mycroft tried to joke. “I thought you would be glad to see me.”

Sam put her seat belt on and then responded.  “I am, just didn’t expect to see you here. Just a bit of a surprise I guess.”

David got into the back of the car and sat next to Sam. “The wheelchair is all folded up and put in the boot along with your bags. If you both are ready, we should start to head back now.”

“I believe we both are,” Mycroft spoke to him.”

David gave the order to the driver and slowly began the long journey to London.

Sam took the time to look out of the window and watch the world go by as she was untangling the headphones, that she could have sworn were not tangled up fifteen minutes ago. Her uncle leant forward and started to speak.

“I bet you're wondering why I came to pick you up.”

“Don’t you mean why you’d had someone drive you down here to pick me up to drive us both back to London?” Sam responded not, looking up at him

A quick smile came across Mycroft’s face. There was a bit of Sherlock in the sentence he thought to himself. “Well, if you want to look at it that way, you can.”

“So, Uncle Mikey, what’s going on?”

“I want to offer you a proposition, one that might come as a surprise -”

“You want me to spy on Sherlock, let you know what he’s up to, then I get paid,” Sam said, finally looking at his now shocked face. “I say paid money will go into my account I’m not allowed till I’m eighteen.”

“Twenty-one actually, but yes that is the situation I was thinking: £100 for every bit of information I get.”

David, who was listening in on the conversation tried not to laugh. As he looked at the two Holmes, he felt like he was about to watch a tennis match. He knew Sam liked to gamble and bet and this was a moment she wasn’t going to lose her chance to make a bit more cash.

“A hundred quid, that’s tiddlywinks compared to what you were going to offer John.”

“How do you know what I was going to offer John? Even he didn’t know.”

“Anthea does like to chat when she has had a drink,” Sam said smugly as she remembered her having to look after her one night not long after John had moved into Baker Street.

“Fine  £25,000 a month.”

Sam raised her eyebrows and thought for a moment. “No, I want £75,000 a month plus £500 for each bit of  information.”

Mycroft’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.  “You expect me to give you that much?”

“Of course we wouldn’t want my mum finding out about this conversation.”

Nice, David thought, to pay the Molly Hooper card. It looked like she had the upper hand.

“No, I don’t think that would go down well for both of us - how about £50,000 a month and £750 for the added information?”

Sam looked over at David almost as if he was her business partner. They silently spoke for a minute and when he gave her a smile and a nod, Sam turned back to her uncle and gave him an answer. “Deal.”

Sam had turned on her iPod after the deal was all set with Mycroft. She was looking out of the window when once again he asked her another question.

“Just out of interest, what will you spend that money on?”

Sam took her headphones out of her right ear and bluntly gave a response. “Therapy probably. After growing up in this family I think I’m going to need it.”

“You do know I was already going to pay for that, right?” Mycroft replied.

“Well, I guess I’ve just saved myself a bit of cash, better start thinking about what I can spend it on. Maybe I can get a dog.” She smiled to herself.

It was late when they got back to London. Traffic on a Friday evening had made it a bit more difficult to make it back to the flat. When the car pulled up outside of Molly’s flat, Sam was happy to be home. She missed her home and London and her mum.

“See you later, Mycroft,” Sam said as she got out of the car.

Her uncle said as she got out of the car. “Have a pleasant evening, niece mine.”

Once outside the car her bodyguard spoke to her.  “Go inside. I will bring your things in.”

“Thank you,” Sam said as she walked into her home.  When the door opened, she felt her body relax just a tiny bit more. “Mum, I’m home.”

Sam didn’t get any reply but heard a voice that didn’t belong to her mum. She thought it was a voice she recognised.  Sam followed the voice and found the person it belonged to sat on the sofa.

“Your mother,” Sherlock said, “was called into work. They had an emergency and needed her to cover. She was going to text you but left her phone here by mistake.”

“Oh okay,” Sam said as she sat down.

“She asked me if I would be here to greet you when you got back, I hope that’s okay?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh it’s fine” Sam replied. “how are you?”

“Good. Cases are going well. If you’d like I can tell you about them.”

“That would be nice.” Sam smiled.

Just as Sherlock was about to tell Sam his latest cases, David walked in with her bag on his back and pushing her wheelchair that was already collapsed. “Here is your stuff, Sam.”

Sherlock jumped in, always his first instinct was to protect Sam from this stranger.  “Who are you?” the detective questioned.

“Sherlock, this is David. He’s one of my bodyguards. David this is Sherlock … well, you know who he is.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” David said, walking up to the detective so he could shake his hand.

Sherlock took it begrudgingly and shock it. “You make sure my daughter is safe.”

“Yes, sir, I have been doing the job for years. Do you need me to stay here till Doctor Hopper gets back or are you going to stay?”

“You can go,” Sherlock told him. “I will look after her.”

“Thank you, sir. I will let Mr Holmes know that you will be here.”

“Why must you tell my brother?” Sherlock questioned.

Sam rolled her eyes. “That’s because it’s his job. Thanks for the lift home, David. See you soon.”

David smiled. “Any time, Sam. Now behave for your dad,”  he told her as he walked out of the flat.

“He seems – nice.” Sherlock tried to say.

“He is,” Sam said not looking at Sherlock. 

“I know my brother picked you up today. What did he want to talk about?”

“Mycroft offered me money to keep tabs on you.”

“Did you take it?” Sherlock asked, starting to get excited.

“Obviously, but only after I got a better deal. I can promise you it’s a big figure.”

“What would you do with that amount of money?” Sherlock asked his daughter.

“Do you really care?” Sam questioned back.

Sherlock thought about it for a moment. “Hmm, not really.”

“Mycroft and I made a deal that Mum isn’t to know about it. I don’t think she will be happy about it otherwise.”

“Oh no, Molly will not like this one bit. Good idea on wanting to keep it from her.”

“Sherlock, I was thinking if you want to mess with your brother a bit maybe can make up some fake stories just for a bit of fun.”

Sherlock smirked. This idea was purely twisted. He loved it. “I think we can come up with a few things.”

Till Molly got home Sherlock and Sam bounded back and forth with ideas to tell Mycroft. It was the first time that Sam and Sherlock were both left alone in each other’s company with no one else around. Even for that small moment of time, they both felt so comfortable.

When Molly walked through the door, she found Sherlock and Sam eating a takeaway and laughing at something. It warmed her heart that they were getting on. She hoped it would always stay that way.

The next day Molly dropped Sam off at Baker Street around midday. As she stood next to her, she could feel Sam trembling slightl

“You okay?” Molly whispered.

“I think so, just feel strange.” 

“You’ve spent time with Sherlock before,” Molly reassured her.

“It just feels different this time because it’s not in a place I feel comfortable; it’s his home, somewhere I don’t know,”  Sam admitted.

“New places are always strange at first, but I promise you that you’ll like it here very much. Ready to go in? And you know you can always text me, right? Even though I’ll be at work I’m just a text away”

“Yeah, Okay.” 

Molly stepped forward and knocked on the door. Almost instantly it was opened by an older woman.

“Molly dear, it’s so good to see you again,” Mrs Hudson greeted her then turned to look at Sam. “Oh, and you must be Sam, you’re so pretty.”

The older woman pulled her into a hug. “It’s nice to meet you -”

“You can call me Mrs Hudson, everyone else seems to.”

Sam smiled, not knowing what to say back.

“Why don’t you both come in? I’ll let Sherlock know that you are here. Sherlock,” Mrs Hudson yelled up the stairs. “Molly and Sam are here.”

Molly started to try and lift the chair up the two steps but found it more difficult than she first thought. “Hey, we never have this trouble at home, do we Sam?” Molly laughed, trying to joke around in hopes of making it less embarrassing.

“Oh, Molly, don’t worry about that. I’ll get Sherlock to lift it in.”  The landlady said as Molly and Sam stepped through the door once they were inside

Movement came from the flat above and the door opened. From where he stood it looked like the detective loomed over them from the top of the stairs.  He walked down to greet them. As always it still felt awkward each time they met.

“Thanks for bringing her over, Molly,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, it’s no problem I was on my way to work anyway.”

Sherlock turned his attention to Sam. “Are you okay this morning?” he asked as he didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m good,” Sam said.

“Sherlock would you mind just bringing Sam’s chair into the hallway? Molly tried getting it in, but the two steps are very awkward.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything but stepped out onto the street and easily managed to get it into the hallway and left it up against one of the walls.

“Not everywhere is wheelchair friendly, is it Sam? Before having you, I didn’t realise it,” Molly said.

“Yep, I’m such an eye opener for everyone,” Sam spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“You’ll start to notice it soon, Sherlock,” Molly said to him.

“Er yes, I guess I will.”

Molly checked the time on her watch and realised she had to head to work. “Oh shit, I need to hurry or I’m going to be late. Sorry,” she apologised to the two adults then stepped towards Sam and pulled her into a hug which she gladly responded to.  “Be good for Sherlock. Be polite to everyone and try and stay out of trouble.”

“I will, Mum. I promise.” Sam spoke into her shoulder.

Molly kissed her on the cheek. “Text me if you need to. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When the door shut, Sam turned to Sherlock, unsure of what to say or do. He looked back at her with the same uncertainty. Thankfully for them, Mrs Hudson was there.

“Sherlock, why don’t you take Sam upstairs and show her where everything is. Sam, I’m cooking a lovely meal that we can all have later. It would be lovely to get to know you. Plus I have a few tales about your dad in his younger days that he would never tell you, but I’d be happy to share.”

Sherlock felt himself start to sweat, and worry set in about what Mrs Hudson would say to Sam. “Sam, let’s head upstairs and leave Mrs Hudson in peace. I’m sure she is very busy.”

“Oh no, I’m not too busy,” the landlady replied.

“I’m sure Sam will need to sit down I a bit so I’m going to take her upstairs.”

Sam was half tempted to say that she was fine and didn’t mind staying and chatting for a bit but started to realise she would need to sit down very soon, so she started to walk over to the stairs. When she got to the bottom of them, she stood there for a moment and tried to work out what she needed to do. She was so used to having a handrail on both sides at her grandparents’ house and even Mycroft’s when she would stay over on occasion, but Baker Street only had the one.

Sherlock cursed to himself in his mind. Even though he spent the week with her at his parents’ house he never saw her tackle the stairs. It was something he hadn’t thought about till that moment.  “Are you okay? Do you need a hand?”

“I’ve got it, just need a second.” Sam turned to look at Mrs Hudson.  “Do you mind me putting my hand on the wall?”

“Oh, it’s fine dear. It’s not like you are shooting at them,” Mrs Hudson said, giving Sherlock a dirty look. “Do what you need to do.”

Sam slowly made her way up the stairs to Sherlock’s flat. As he walked behind her, he noticed how tightly she gripped the bannister for support. With each step, she took he was on guard just in case she tripped or needed any support from him.  As they got to the top of the stairs, Sam spoke to Sherlock. “Please, can you have Mycroft get a rail put in on the other side? It will make things a lot easier.”

“I will contact him.” Sherlock said as he stepped in front of her to open the door to his flat  “Sam, this is where I work.”

As Sam stepped inside and looked around, she liked what she saw. Everywhere she looked there was something new to look at. All the books on the shelves excited her and made her want to read them all at once, the fireplace reminded her of childhood with her grandad before he died, when he would sit by it with her in the winter and read her stories before she went to bed.  Even the view outside was exciting to look at, just seeing all of the people down below going about their day.

“The kitchen is through there,” Sherlock pointed out. “Bathroom is just further along and then that door at the end is my room. It is most likely where you will sleep on nights when you want to stay over, and I don’t have a case. I would have given you the room upstairs but that’s now John’s room.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Sherlock, I have a question. If I sleep in your room, where will you sleep?”

“I’ll just sleep on the sofa. Done it before, not really a problem. I’m used to not sleeping when I’m on cases anyway. So what do you think of the place?”

“I love it.” Sam beamed.

“I thought you’d feel that way,” Sherlock said, sitting down in his chair. When he saw that Sam was still stood in the middle of the room, he gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite his. “This is normally John’s chair but seeing as he is not here at the moment, I don’t think he will mind.”

“Where is he?” Sam asked as she sat down.

“Gone shopping. Tomorrow he is heading off to see his sister. Thinks she is getting better. She’s not,  but hey, he won’t listen.”

“People change.”

Sherlock scoffed. “People rarely change. But that’s not what I want to talk about right now.”

“What do you want to talk about? I mean, you do have plans for  today, don’t you?”

“Of course I have plans.” Sherlock got up out of his chair and grabbed a few files off his desk and then sat down again. “These are cold cases, barely a three, I solved them all in a space of an hour. I want to see what your Holmes mind can do and see if you are any good for training?”

“What do you mean to solve? I don’t think I will be any good. Why do you want to shape my mind?”

“I’ve already solved them, I just want to see if you can do the same. These are ones neither John nor I have put on our blogs, so I know you won’t cheat. If I can shape your mind now, I will have a consulting detective in training. You are still young, and I will be able to bounce ideas off someone who thinks like me.”

“What about John?” Sam asked.

“Oh no, he’s too old. I have no hope in reshaping his mind but with you, there is still a chance.”

“Fine, I’ll give it a go, but I don’t think I’ll be any good.”

“Perfect” Sherlock said clapping his hands together. “Sam, the game is on.”

For the next few hours, Sherlock and Sam went through all the old cases and Sherlock was impressed at how quickly Sam was picking things up. Even after he would point a small thing out it would lead to her picking up on other things, especially when she picked up on something he hadn’t seen. There’s the making of a detective in her yet, Sherlock thought to himself.

After several hours of going over the cases, John came home.  “Oh, hello,” John said to Sam. “it’s good to see you again.”

“Yes, you too, especially now I don’t have that bomb on me,” Sam joked.

Neither of the men laughed and the room plunged into a deadly silence till Sherlock spoke. “You spent a long time at the shops.”

“I told you I wasn’t just going shopping. I met up with an old friend for coffee. Wow, you really don’t listen all the time, do you?”

“I hear the basics,” Sherlock replied.

“So, what’s all of this?” John asked as he pointed to the files and paperwork on the coffee table.

“This is me testing Sam’s deduction skills with cold cases. Don’t worry, she won’t put you out of a job – yet, but in a few years she might.”

“Sherlock, should you really be showing your child this stuff?” Questioned John as he picked up a picture of a foot cut off from the rest of the body.

“John it’s fine. Sam doesn’t mind, do you?” 

“I don’t mind it.”

“Of course she wouldn’t mind, she’s your child,” John moaned as he walked into the kitchen.

“I know.” Sherlock beamed, he was so proud.

Later that evening when  Mrs Hudson had finished cooking her meal, Sherlock and John helped her bring it all upstairs for them to eat. 

“It all smells so good,” Sam complimented. “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble just for me.”

“Oh don’t mention it. I rarely have a chance to cook something like this. Those two are always rushing about on a case not wanting to be disturbed, no time to eat something like this, and look at your father -  he looks like he’s wasting anyway. This is a good chance for me to fatten him up just a little bit.”

“It does look like he needs it a little bit,” Sam agreed. 

“Are you two going to stand there yakking or are we going to eat?” Sherlock said when everything was set up on his kitchen table.

“Yes, Sherlock dear, we are coming. I was just thinking about which stories to tell Sam.”

Sherlock felt his ears go red with heat. A part of him wished he never opened his mouth.

When Sam looked at all of the food that had been laid out on the table, it made her feel like she was at Hogwarts about to have a feast.  All on the table she could see Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, stuffing, carrots and more. Right at the end was a roast chicken.

“Your mother told me that you love a good roast dinner, so I couldn’t resist cooking one for you,” Mrs Hudson told her.

Sam felt tears in her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something this nice for her.  “Thank you so much.”

As they all sat down, they all swapped stories. Mrs Hudson and John got to know Sam a little better while she got to know more about them. Sam especially loved all of the stories that Mrs Hudson told her about Sherlock’s younger days. They made him seem more real and not just the figure he presented to the world and her.

When the meal was over, Mrs Hudson knew she loved Sam and would hope to be a part of her life, even as a surrogate grandmother, she didn’t mind. There was something about her that reminded her of Sherlock when he was younger.

“Thanks for the lovely meal,” Sam said as she was leaving. 

“It was an absolute pleasure. It was so lovely to finally get to meet you. I hope to see you again sometime,” Mrs Hudson said, giving her a hug.

“Won’t I see you tomorrow?” Sam asked.

“Oh no dear, I’m going to see some family.”

“Sam, the taxi is here,” Sherlock said. He was taking Sam back to Molly’s for the evening.

Sam gave Mrs Hudson another hug then started to walk to Sherlock who was at the door. “Won’t you need your wheelchair?” the older woman asked.

“Oh no. I’m only heading back to Mum’s, it makes more sense to leave it here seeing as I come back tomorrow. It wouldn’t make sense to take it home to bring it back otherwise. It is okay for me to keep it there isn’t it?”

“It’s completely fine.”

Sherlock got Sam back to her home very quickly. He was glad that the taxi driver knew all of the short cuts.  The minute they arrived at Molly’s, Sherlock paid the driver and helped Sam out of the car. All the lights were on so both father and child deduced that Molly was home.

Sam walked into the flat before Sherlock and both were greeted by Molly right away. “Sam, you’re home! Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah, I did.” She smiled.

“Thanks for bringing her home, Sherlock.”

“It was no problem,” spoke the detective.

“I’ll drop Sam off about the same time as I did today. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine, thank you, Molly.  I’ll leave you both to your evening.” Sherlock exited the flat.

“I really did have a good time,” Sam said to her mother.

“I’m glad.” Molly smiled.

It was just as she walked into the living room Sam realised that she didn’t look at her phone for the whole day or need to text her mum at all.

John saw that Sherlock was in a good mood when he got back to the flat that evening.  “Sam seems like a normal child. Is that from Molly’s side of the family?”

Sherlock didn’t answer but stared blankly back at John.

“I just can’t get over the fact that she is a total mix of Molly and yourself.”

“She does share our DNA, it is to be expected.

“You two seem to be getting on well. Just be careful though. Sherlock. One wrong move and she might just shut you out.”

“I don’t plan to let that happen, John.”

The next day Sherlock and Sam were once again going over some old cases when Sherlock’s phone started to ring.

“Yes hello. Where about? Okay, be there soon.”

“Who was that?” Sam questioned.

“Lestrade. I’ve got a case.” Sherlock put on his Belstaff and headed out of the door, leaving Sam alone in the flat. Almost a minute later he walked back in “Right, what do we do, I can’t call Molly because she will think that I’m pushing you to the side. Mycroft is out of the question and John and Mrs Hudson are both away. There is only one thing for it -  you’ll have to come with me.”

“Come with you? No, I mean, I can’t. I’ll just be in the way, it’s not practical.”

“Who cares about practical? Come on, the game is on.” Sherlock threw Sam’s coat to her as she got up.  Putting it on, she followed him down the stairs.

When they were in the hallway Sherlock grabbed Sam’s wheelchair. “I think we will need this. Ready?”

“Guess I’ll have to be.”

Sherlock flagged a taxi down and before she knew it Sam was one her first case with Sherlock Holmes. She hoped that it would all be okay and that she’d be home by the end of the day.  Once at the location, a street somewhere not far from Baker Street, they got out of the taxi. Sherlock grabbed Sam’s chair.

“It would be quicker if I pushed you. Is that okay?”

Sam sat in the chair. “Just give me a second.” She clipped her seatbelt together making sure if anything happened, she wouldn’t fall out, then kicked down the footrest with her feet so everything was set. “Ready.”

Sherlock walked fast. It wasn’t a pace that she was used to when being pushed in her chair. Normally her mum would walk slower but Sam put that down to the fact of the height difference between her parents.

As they got to the end of the street, Sherlock turned down a side street, which looked dark and dingy. At the end of it was a body on the floor, above, policemen surrounded it.  A grey-haired policeman looked up and walked towards them.

“Err Sherlock what is this?”

“That’s no way to talk to my daughter, Graham.”

“Greg. My name is Greg. Sherlock, why is she here?”

“Well, I thought I would introduce her to the family business.”

“No Sherlock, not happening.”

Two other people, a man and woman walked up behind the detective to see what was going on. “What’s freak done now?”  the woman asked.

“Sherlock has brought his daughter along for the case.”

“Wait did you say, daughter? This is his – daughter?” The other man questioned.

“Yes, Anderson,” Sherlock said to the man.

“This can’t be true,” the woman said.

“It is true Sally; now that we are all past the point of realising I have a daughter, can we get on with the case?”

“Why is she in a wheelchair?” Anderson asked, turning from Sherlock to Sam. “Did you break your legs or something?”

This was a question Sam was used to. Most people always assumed that she had hurt herself or been in an accident to be in her chair. Even though she was used to it, she still felt a pang of pain. She felt the tension build on the chair as Sherlock’s grip tightened. It almost started to hurt when he realised what he was doing.

Sam looked up at Anderson. “Yes, I’m his daughter and yes, I am in this thing but no, I didn’t do something to end up into it. I just like to sit in it for fun.” She addressed her father. “Sherlock can we get on with the case please? I don’t like it when people talk over my head and think I can’t talk for myself.”

“I won’t do the case for you unless Sam is allowed in too,” Sherlock said to the detective inspector.

Lestrade stood there knowing he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He needed help with the case but didn’t want to get into trouble just for having a child near the case.  In the end, he relented. “Fine, but if I get into trouble you will have to sort it out with your brother.”

“Okay,” Sherlock said, eager to get started on the case.

Once Sherlock started to look at the body, he came out with all the different deductions. Because he was bent down, he was at the same height as his daughter which allowed him to explain things to her and get to see if she saw anything and when she pointed out something seemed familiar to a case they had been looking at the previous day, it helped the detective work out the final clue to solve the case. Sherlock knew there was promise for Sam.

Once all the information was passed on to Greg, he contacted the necessary people to go and make the arrest. While they waited, Greg spoke one more thing to the detective. “Does Molly know she is here, Sherlock?”

“Well, she knows that Sam is with me but does not know that I am here,” responded the detective.

“He means no,” Sam replied.

Greg shook his head. “Well, are you going to tell her?”

“Wait, why would Molly want to know?” Anderson questioned. “You do mean Molly Hooper? The one who works at Bart’s?”

“Molly’s my mum and yes, that Molly,” Sam blurted out before Sherlock had a chance to stop her.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Sally said joining the conversation.

“I’m not.”

“She isn’t,” Sherlock said, speaking for the child. “I would prefer it if this was kept as quiet as possible, I don’t want anything happening to Sam because of this.”

All three adults respected this and agreed to do so. It wasn’t long till Greg got a phone saying that the suspect was in custody.

“I’ve got to go and interview the suspect. Thanks for your help, Sherlock. It was nice to meet you, Sam.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” Sam said politely.

Sherlock looked at the time on his phone. It was three in the afternoon. “It’s getting late, well not late but  I should probably get you back to Molly’s before you head back to school.”

Father and daughter headed back to Molly’s. Once they were there, he helped her sort out a few things for her pack so she would be ready to go. Sam had decided she wasn’t going to leave until Molly got home because Sam knew this would be the last chance she would have to see her mum before the summer holidays started.

The detective and his daughter sat in the living room waiting for Molly to come home. She had texted moments ago that she was five minutes away.  Sam would had to leave by half-past four in order to make it back to school for dinner. She hoped her mum would make it back in time.

“Thanks for this weekend Sherlock. I had a nice time.”

“You’re welcome. I had a good time too.”

“Maybe in the summer we could have more days like this – only if you’re not too busy – oh and before my surgery.”

“I would like that.” the detective smiled.

Molly was back quicker than they expected, she smelled like her work, she had not had the time to take a shower before leaving work otherwise she would have missed saying goodbye to Sam, something she didn’t want to do.

“Sorry, I’m glad got here in time,” Molly said, giving Sam a hug. “Oh, I just had to see you off.”

“You make it sounds as if I’m never going to see you again,” Sam joked.

“I know it’s only a few more weeks but it’s going to feel like an eternity.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” Sam told her.

“You all packed?”

Sam nodded. “Sherlock helped me.”

Molly looked up at Sherlock.  “Thank you for doing that – it was nice of you.”

“It was no trouble.”

“I better get going,” Sam said, giving her Mum one more hug before she walked to the car.

Both parents walked out with her to the car that had pulled up to take her back to school. Just as she was about to climb in, she decided to give Sherlock a hug which took him by surprise. It wasn’t like any he had seen her give Molly, it was more a like a tap on the arm, but it still meant something to him.

As she stepped away once more, she looked up at Sherlock. “I know I should have said it before, but happy Father’s Day, Sherlock.”

He felt as if he had been pushed over by her words. “Thank you,” he managed to get out as Sam sat in the car and shut the door.

As it pulled away Sherlock felt one small tear on his check and Molly’s hand on his wrist stroking it to make sure he was okay.

Sam got back to school just as dinner was starting and went to sit with Jen.

“Hey Sam, you’re back. How was your weekend?” her roommate asked.

Sam felt a smile appear on her face as she thought about the time she spent with Sherlock. “It was really good, and you’ll never guess what, but I actually spent Father’s Day with my dad for the first time.”

“Wait, seriously?” Jen said getting excited. “Is he back in your life for good? How long has he been back?

“I think so and only a few weeks.”

“Wow, this is big.  Are you okay with it?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

“I am really happy for you. You absolutely deserve this but if he hurts you, he has to answer to me.”

Sam laughed.

Sam thought back to the last few days she spent with Sherlock. It was the first time since she had met him that she had hoped he would be okay, and he was going to stay. She just really wanted summer to happen now so she could go on another case solving day.  That time in the small alleyway, something changed slightly in her.

As she went to bed that night, Sam ran the last few weeks in her mind. Remembering everything from their first meeting till now. She knew within herself she wasn’t ready to call him dad to his face, there was still a way to go but she was happy with how things were.  She looked at Sherlock's blog, once again reading about his research. Now she could hear his voice as she read his words almost as if he was narrating it all to her.

Have fun solving cases while I’m stuck in school – S 

A few seconds later a reply came through.

I plan to, and if John gives any more stupid ideas, I’m breaking you out of there to help solve me a case – SH

I like the sound of that. Night. – S

Goodnight Sam - SH

Wishing the weeks would go quickly, Sam fell asleep quickly in a peaceful dream, not knowing that soon enough someone would find out her secret and that her dad would get called in on a case which somehow led to him walking into Buckingham Palace in nothing but a sheet.

Chapter Text

When sat in nothing but a sheet at Buckingham Palace, Sherlock thought what Sam would think of the situation, he knew she would love to see the frustrated look on Mycroft’s face.  Now, having Sam in his life, he loved that he had someone he could wind Mycroft up with, though they always did this behind Molly’s back so neither of them got into trouble.

“Put your clothes on, Sherlock.” Mycroft yelled at him in frustration. “Even Sam doesn’t act like this and she’s a child.”

“Don’t bring MY daughter into this,” Sherlock said as he tightened his grip on his sheet as he slowly felt it slipping around his butt.

Mycroft removed his foot, allowing Sherlock to readjust it around his body. “Now, brother mine, if you follow me you can get dressed and try and acts like an adult.”

Sherlock followed Mycroft as he was led to a small toilet.  Once dressed the detective saw an ashtray. He picked it up and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

He wouldn’t be lying to admit the case intrigued him. Mycroft handed him a picture of a woman. It wasn’t someone he had seen before.

“Dominatrix,” Sherlock spoke to himself.

“Don’t be alarmed. It’s to do with sex.”

“Sex doesn’t alarm me.”

“How would you know?” Mycroft smiled smugly.

“I have a daughter. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Sherlock said trying to have the upper hand.

“Well, I guess it tells us one thing,” Mycroft said.

“Oh, and what would that be?” Sherlock asked, feeling his body leaning forward but just stopping himself before he attacked his brother.

“Boys, please don’t,” John scolded.

Both brothers stared at each other for a moment before Mycroft continued talking about the case while Sherlock continued looking at the pictures. He did wonder if it would somehow affect his time with Sam. Though the detective knew he needed to spend time with his child, he knew the case was important. He hoped he would find the perfect balance.  In the end, he took the case.

Before leaving, Sherlock said one more thing to Mycroft. “I’ve been meaning to contact you. I need something for Baker Street, though it’s not for the case.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to help, brother mine,” Mycroft interrupted.

“It’s for Sam.”

Mycroft’s face changed from smug to someone who looked like he mildly cared. “Oh, that’s different, what do you need?”

“Sam has requested that a handrail be added to the wall on the stairs, if that is okay.”

“I’ll get someone over, brother mine.”

Sherlock nodded and prepared to leave.

“Pleasure to meet you,” John said to the royal employee as he left the room.

“Laters!” Sherlock said, glad that he could finally get back to Baker Street.

In the taxi, Sherlock could hear John thinking and was finally glad when he asked about his deduction on the smoking. 

“Observe what?” questioned John

“The ashtray.” Sherlock pulled it out of his pocket.

After chuckling to himself, John asked another question “What are you going to do with that?”

“I have an idea.”

“So, laters?”

“What about it?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, it’s not how you talk? Have you been googling how young people talk?”

Sherlock didn’t say anything but looked out of the window.

“Oh my god.” John laughed. “You did. You're trying to be a cool dad.”

“Shut up.” Sherlock smiled, still looking out of the window.

Jen was in her dorm room working on her laptop. She was trying to get her humanities homework done before it was due in the next day. But having worked on it for more than half an hour, procrastination got the better of her so she decided to take a quick break.  Opening a new tab on the internet, she decided to see what new cases Sherlock Holmes had solved.

She wasn’t a fan of the detective herself but was always intrigued when Sam read her stories from a blog about him online. Jen was convinced that her roommate fancied the pants off the detective, though Sam would flatly deny it every time. She always wondered what would happen if Sam somehow magically got to go on a case with the detective. She was almost positive that her friend would spontaneously combust from excitement.

Looking on the blog of his flatmate - the fact I know that tells me I have been hanging around with Sam for too long, Jen laughed to herself. The blog hadn’t been updated since Sam had read out the last case, unfortunately, an unsolved one. Those ones were never fun. Going back to the  Google homepage, Jen used a trick Sam had taught her. If there wasn’t a new case on John’s blog, look for one of the fan blogs. With Sherlock’s popularity growing, more and more people were becoming interested in the detective which was leading the detective having people tracking him on cases, to update other fans.

Jen found a blog that looked genuine and saw that their last update had been added hour ago from a case from the week just gone. “Oh, a new case, how exciting! Sam will like this.” Jen spoke out loud to herself. “I must tell her when she gets back to the room.”  Jen looked at the pictures before reading the blog post. If the pictures were interesting she felt she was more inclined to read it, unlike Sam who would just eat it all up. Maybe that crush would leak into stalking. “God help Sherlock Holmes if he ever met Sam Hooper.”

Scrolling down the page, Jen saw that there wasn’t much writing and as always the pictures were inevitably at the bottom. There was Sherlock Holmes pushing a young girl in a wheelchair, then him at a crime scene, him and the girl looking at a body in a small alleyway. Oh, that’s nice, Jen thought to herself for a second. Then the penny dropped. “No!” she gasped out loud, her hand coming to her mouth. “But that’s Sam. It has to be.”

Pushing her blond hair out of her eyes, she zoomed in to get a better look. The wheelchair was exactly identical to Sam’s; it had the blue foot plates and blue handles just like the chair that was sitting in the corner of the room. The girl also looked identical to her roommate. “It has to be,” she muttered to herself over and over.  Reading the blog post helped give Jen a bit more information.

Sherlock Holmes was spotted with a young girl in a wheelchair heading to a case on Sunday, 20th June. The girl was briefly spoken about but was allowed to see the case along with the detective. Who is this mystery girl? And will she appear on another case with Sherlock Holmes?

“The timeline fits,” Jen thought out-loud. She knew that Sam’s mother lived in London so she would have been in the right city. The shock was overwhelming, all Jen could do was pace the room while she waited for Sam to get back. Each time she passed her laptop, she looked at the picture of her friend and the detective.  Sam had some explaining to do.

The library was the place where Sam felt he worked best she could click on one of the computers and zone out till she got her work done. Glad that she was on top of her homework she could finally head back to her dorm room. As she put her bag on her back she checked her phone.  She had a text from Sherlock.

Went to the palace for a case today - got you a little something. – SH 

Attached to the text was a picture of an ashtray.

Sam could hardly believe her eyes. It wasn’t the most conventional present a father brought his twelve-year-old but Sherlock was hardly conventional himself. 

Thanks, Sherlock, it looks lovely. Is this your way of telling me you’d like me to take up smoking? - S

Almost instantly a reply came back.

No I didn’t say that  - SH

Don’t tell your mother about this – SH

Please, I’m no consulting detective but I know what to tell and what to keep from Mum. This isn’t my first rodeo – S

Good -SH

Sam walked back to her room smiling at the absurd notion of an ashtray as a gift. Christmas was going to be interesting.

When she reached her dorm room she saw Jen pacing. She didn’t look very well.  “Are you okay?” Sam questioned as she put her bag on her bed.”

“Laptop! Sherlock! New case! Look! Now!” Jen managed to get out in short gasps.

Giving her friend an odd look she obliged and looked at the screen. The moment she looked at the screen she felt herself go pale. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

“So it is you?” Jen questioned, her voice getting slightly higher.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You went on a case with Sherlock Holmes and you didn’t tell me.” Jen wracked her friend on the arm.

“I couldn’t. No one else can know. It has to be a secret.”

“But why does it have to be a secret? This is like the biggest thing ever! Oh my god, did seeing him in person make your secret little crush on him go bigger?”

“I don’t have a crush on Sherlock.” Sam felt nauseous at the thought.

Jen’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god,” Jen gasped again. “Father’s Day! Father’s Day! You said you spent the day with your dad but you were with – OH MY GOD. NO.”

“Yes,” Sam said, hoping to calm her friend down.

“But he’s your …?”



“Yes, Sherlock Holmes is my dad but no one else can know.”

“But why? This is so cool!” Jen exclaimed.

Sam went and sat down on her bed. “It is and it isn’t, but I have to remain a secret for my safety.”

“Your safety?” Jen sat down on her own bed so she was opposite Sam.

“Do you remember that blog post?” Sam started. “John put up where he was at the pool and that bomb jacket on.”

 “Yeah,” Jen replied.

“Well, that actually happened to me,” Sam said, not looking at her friend.

“What?” Jen questioned, shocked.

Sam went on to explain everything that had happened to her since Moriarty had kidnapped her in the middle of the night up to her first meeting with Sherlock, to spending time at her grandparents with him and how the first Father’s Day was, right up to the current text messages.

“Sam this is mad. How long have you known Sherlock is your dad?”

“I’ve always known that Sherlock is my dad. Mum never kept that a secret. I was the secret. He never knew about me before stepping into the swimming pool.”

“I just can’t believe it. You’re Sherlock mad and he’s your dad.”

“Yeah, it is, just a little,” Sam agreed. “Believe me now that I don’t fancy him?”

Jen’s eyes went wide once more, realising how her teasing had been from Sam’s point of view, when all this time she’d been under the impression Sam fancied her dad.  “Yep, you definitely don’t fancy Sherlock. Oh please don’t say you do, because that’s gross.”

“No crush on my dad, I promise.” Sam laughed at how stupid she sounded.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were best friends.”

“Believe me, I wanted to tell you. There have been times when I wanted to but it’s been a secret for so long it’s easier keeping it from people than telling them. It was nothing personal against you. You’re still my friend, right.”

“Best friend.” Jen corrected.

“You’ve got to promise me you won’t tell anyone. No one else can. It’s really important. The only people here who know are the teachers and that’s just in case something happens. You promise?”

“Of course I promise. This is so cool, this secret. You’re like Hannah Montana.”

Sam laughed, remembering she had said something similar to Sherlock. “I guess that makes you Lily or should I say, Lola.”

Both girls laughed before something else dawned on Jen. “Wait, if nobody else is meant to know about this, what are you going to do about that blog post? It might go viral.”

Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I know someone I can call.” She pulled up the name and put the phone to her ear.  “Hello Uncle Mycroft. We have a code blue four. Yes, I know it’s not good. On a small blog, not many people have seen it by the looks. I would act quickly if I were you. Thank you. Oh one last thing, my roommate knows. Yes, I know this is bad but she has promised me that she won’t tell anyone and I trust her. You know what it means for me to trust someone. I trust her. I don’t think it’s worth telling Mum and getting her worried. Yes, right, keep me informed of everything, okay? Thanks, Uncle mine.”

“Wow that phone call was something else,” Jen said, amazed.

“Yeah, that’s was Mycroft. He’s my uncle. He’s basically the British Government. He can get anything done. He keeps me safe with security and bodyguards and stuff.”

“Oh god, the men who follow you around when we are off campus. Bodyguards, Sam, I thought you had them because of your legs. Are there people watching us now?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam admitted, “but I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“That’s kind of creepy.”

“I know - welcome to my world.”

A bell rang outside, signalling everybody to dinner

“Come on, let’s get to dinner.”

Sam and Jen left their room to head to the dining hall. Forgetting her phone, Sam didn’t see the text that would be waiting for her when she would get back

I’ve got a massive case ahead. If I don’t text it’s nothing against you. I just don’t want to forget to tell you you’re important. Remember that - SH

Chapter Text

The end of term came around quickly after Jen found out the truth about Sam's parentage. It somehow brought the girls closer now if that was possible. They both had this secret no one else really knew. Sam was grateful someone else knew; it allowed her to be able to talk about it with someone else her own age and not have the worry it would get back to her parents.

As the girls packed up there or room for the summer holidays making sure they had everything they needed, Jen was telling Sam all about her holiday plans. "So I'm going to be spending two weeks in Spain with my parents. Then we'll probably go spend the rest with my grandparents. What're your plans? Are you heading to America to see your uncle?"

Sam put another pair of trousers in her bag. "Not this year. I would love to, but Mum's made sure my surgery is booked in for this summer as it's a six week recovery time she'd rather I have it then, so it doesn't cut into my education."

"Aw, Sam, that sucks. When's the surgery?"

A pair of black socks went into the suitcase. "Next week," Sam answered.

A sympathetic look, one Sam always disliked, crossed her friend's face. "I know how much you love spending summers in Florida, and this year you don't get to. Surgery doesn't sound like much fun either."

"It is what it is. I'm going to miss it but at least I got to go at Easter and see my cousins and I guess if I am recovered by October, I might be able to convince Mum and Mycroft to let me go then."

"What about your dad?" Jen questioned.

"What about him?"

"Doesn't he get a say in all of this?"

"I mean I guess he does but it would only be for a week. It would just be like me being here and he'll have a case anyway, most likely won't even notice I'm gone."

"Are you sure about that?"

Sam sat down on her bed, glad that she was all packed up and ready to leave for the summer. "I don't know I guess I'll talk to Dad about it when the time comes."

Jen lifted an eyebrow slightly. It wasn't the first time Sam had referred to Sherlock as Dad in her presence, but it was still odd to hear it. "He's an adult, he'll want a say. They always do. And you do realise you called him Dad again, right?"

"Yes," Sam admitted. "I want to get used to the idea of seeing him that way but I'm not ready to say it to him, and he's not ready to hear it. At the moment he's more like a big brother."

"At least he's there."

"Yeah," Sam absentmindedly agreed.

Sensing that Sam didn't want to talk about Sherlock anymore, Jen decided to change the topic "How have we finished our first year at secondary school? This is just crazy."

"I know. I thought I'd never make it through the first week let alone the whole year," Sam joked. "You still want to be my roommate next year?"

"Of course, who else is going to put up with you?" Jen joked, which got a smile out of Sam.

There was a knock at the door. "Enter," both girls said at the same time causing them both to laugh as David walked in.

"Afternoon to you both," he greeted. "If you're ready, Sam, the car is all set to head home."

Sam passed him her bag that was on her bed. "Would it be okay if you walk on ahead? I just want to say goodbye to Jen and a few other people."

David rolled his eyes, young girls and the overdramatic way they all have say goodbye. One would think that they would never see each other again and that it wasn't just for six weeks for summer break. "Of course I'll meet you in the car. Do you want me to take your chair as well?"

"Yes, please. I'll walk to the car."

Since Jen knew about the truth it made it easier having bodyguards around without questions being asked, they could relax just a little bit. Watching him leave the room, Jen gave her a funny look.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I thought people only looked like that in the movies; he just so incredibly-"

"Too old for you." Sam cut in.

"Oh someone's jealous, is that who you fancy?"

Sam felt her cheeks get hot. "Come on, let's go say goodbye to everyone else. I have a feeling they want me out of here before the traffic gets too much."

Jen picked up her bag and walked to the door. "I didn't get an answer for that, so I'm going to take that as a yes."

Sam followed her and turned to look at the room one last time, she knew it would be there waiting for her when she got back to school after the summer break but right now that felt ages away, with the thought of the operation in her mind. It almost felt impossible that she was coming back. Shaking the thought from her mind, it would all be fine. "See you later, room," she muttered to herself as she shut the door.

Just before getting to the car park, Sam and Jen met up with their friends in the car park, hugging them all goodbye and promising to text and chat to them every day, though Sam did wonder how likely the promises would be kept.

As Sam got to her car, she felt Jen tap her on her shoulder. "Look, I honestly mean it if you need me any time, text me. If it's to do with post-surgery, text me, if its to do with family trouble, text me. If you just need someone to talk to, send me a message. I mean it."

"Thanks" Sam hugged her. "You honestly are my best friend."

"Good, because I would have to fight anyone who tried to take that title from me," Jen laughed.

London felt brighter since the last time she'd been there. It made Sam smile. She did love the city in the summer, it just felt different and she loved it. As the car pulled up to her flat, she could see that her mum was waiting on the doorstep for her.

"Hi, Mum," Sam said, giving her a hug as she got out of the car.

Molly held her, breathing in her daughter's smell, glad that she was home, glad she was hers just for a little bit. "Sammy, I am so glad you are home."

"I told you this last time, but I was only home the other week."

"Yes but you're here now for the summer. I actually get to see you for more than a couple of days at a time." Molly felt tears in her eyes.

Sam wiped them away. "I'm sure you'll want to send me packing by the end of the week."

Molly laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they walked into the house, Sam noticed the absence of her father. She knew she couldn't expect to always have him there, but a part of her on the drive up wanted him too to be. He must be busy with a case, she tried to comfort herself.

"Seen much from Sherlock recently?" Sam asked as they sat down on the sofa for a takeaway and movie night.

"Not really," Molly admitted. "I think Mycroft has set him on an important case. He hasn't been into the lab for the last week but I'm sure he will turn up."

"Here or Bart's?"

"Both, probably." Molly chuckled.

Sam put her pizza box down on the coffee table in front of them even though she still had a little bit left, she wasn't hungry. Molly knew something was on her daughter's mind. She was never one to put the pizza down. Instead of jumping in and asking, she waited for her daughter to speak what was on her mind. "He does want to be there next week, doesn't he Mum?"

Molly put her hand on Sam's shoulder. "He does, and he will be, I promise you, he will be there and well, if he isn't, he will have me to answer to."

A week went by quickly. During that time Sam saw Sherlock, he'd been keeping up his text messages, but it was nicer to see him in person. He told her serval times he would be there for in the next couple of days as surgery got nearer. Her grandparents had also travelled down to be there for surgery day. It made Sam laugh that this time they had insisted on staying with Mycroft rather than in a hotel room. She knew he would be so thrilled with that.

On the night before surgery, Molly always allowed Sam to have whatever she wanted to eat as she wouldn't be able to have any breakfast in the morning. This would be her last supper. It was funny to Molly watching Sherlock walk into her flat with a KFC bargain bucket of chicken under his arm.

"Why are we letting her eat this food?" Sherlock questioned.

"Because this food is the last thing, she will have control of for a while. After tomorrow she won't be able to do anything for herself. Letting her have this will comfort her. I also don't let her have it all the time so it's a nice treat. Will you go knock on her door and tell her the food is here?"

Sherlock walked to Sam's door and knocked. When she said he could enter, he put his head around the door. She was sat on her bed watching a movie on her laptop. She pulled out her headphones as she saw him speak. "Sam, the food is here."

Putting the movie on pause, she left her laptop to the side. "Oh great, I'm hungry."

Sherlock waited by the door, watching her walk. He still noticed the way she wobbled and the occasional need to hold on to a wall or door frame for support. He saw the way her foot wouldn't hit the floor flat like everyone else, this was just her way of walking. The surgery was going to help fix this. Following her out of the room they joined Molly in the kitchen.

Taking off his jacket and putting it on the back of his chair, he sat down next to Sam. "You don't have a case?" Sam asked.

"I've made sure I won't have anything to bother me for the next couple of weeks."

Sam grabbed a drumstick from the top of the box "Has something more important come up?"

Molly's eyes gaze at Sherlock, slightly worried what his answer would be.

"Yes, very important," he replied, grabbing food for himself.

"But what about the case you're doing for Mycroft?" Sam asked.

"That's on pause, not getting anywhere with it."

Molly changed the subject before any more could be said, to how her day at work was, it was times like this she was glad that Sherlock and Sam found her job interesting.

Sam had barely finished eating before she felt herself finding it hard to breathe. There were tears on her check that she was almost sure hadn't been there a minute ago.

Her mum was talking to her. "Sam it's okay, just breathe, okay?"

It took a couple of minutes before she was able to speak again. In that time she had somehow been moved into the living room. Molly was in front of her and Sherlock sat near her, observing everything. "I hate my legs," she cried. "I don't want the operation tomorrow. Don't make me do it Mum!"

Molly felt a pang of guilt. She never liked putting her daughter through the pain of surgery and the recovery that came with it, but she also knew by doing so it would give Sam a better life later on. She hoped Sam would thank her one day for what she made her daughter do. Molly reminded herself it was all done out of love. She was the adult, she had to do what was best for Sam.

"Sam, I don't like the way your legs are either but sometimes we have to do things we don't like because it is better for us in the long run."

"But I don't want to be in pain and not walk or do things for myself," Sam cried as her tears started again.

"I don't want you in pain either but it's just for a little bit, I promise," Molly tried to reassure.

"I don't like being disabled, mum. Why did it have to be me?"

Molly didn't know what else to say so she sat down next to Sam and let her cry. Sometimes she wished she knew what to say in these situations. Sam was like it every time before surgery but it didn't get any easier. Looking over at Sherlock she could see that he was wishing that he too knew what to say.

Sunlight had barely started to appear over London when Molly and her daughter began their short ride in the car. The whole journey to the hospital Sam felt sick. She had gotten much sleep due to nerves of the day ahead but knew it wouldn't be long before she would be asleep again.

"Your grandparents are going to be meeting us at the hospital," Molly said, breaking the silence.

"And Sherlock?" Sam asked, turning to look at her.

"Yes, he should be there too. I'm not sure about Mycroft; he might visit you once the surgery has finished or tomorrow. You know how he is."

"Yes, I do. But to be fair, if I was in his situation I'd choose running the British government today too."

When they got to the hospital, Sherlock was waiting for them outside. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked as they got out of one of Mycroft's car.

"Would you mind carrying Sam's hospital bag?" Molly asked, pointing to it as the driver of the car got out the wheelchair.

Sherlock picked it up not saying anything. It was heavier than he had expected it to be. Sam appeared beside him, she looked tired and scared, all the emotions he would expect from her but it didn't feel like the Sam he knew. In some ways this was a stranger that looked like Sam and he didn't like it one bit.

"Bit early isn't it?" Sam said, not looking at him as she sat in her chair.

"Mm, didn't really notice," Sherlock said.

"Are your parents here?" Molly questioned.

He looked up quickly at Molly. "Yes, they're just inside. They did not want to stand out here in the slight cold. They're waiting to see you." He directed the last bit to Sam.

"I don't blame them for not wanting to be out here. It may be summer but it's freezing. Can we go inside?"

Molly started to push her daughter. "I think that's a good idea. We need to check you in as soon as possible."

Near to the entrance, Sherlock's parents were sat having a conversation. They stopped the moment they saw Sam. They walked toward her and both gave her hugs.

"I'll go check you in," Molly said, knowing Sam was in good hands.

"This isn't an NHS hospital," Sherlock observed.

"No, it's not," Mr Holmes said, "Your brother pays for private care. He wants to make sure Sam has the best."

"Maybe if I had the best twelve years ago I wouldn't be in this," Sam said bitterly, slightly whacking the side of the wheelchair.

"You know it wasn't the doctors or nurses fault, right?" Mr Holmes said gently. "It just did happen."

"I know, I just hate this situation," Sam said as she wiped tears away from her face with the heel of her hand.

Sherlock shared a look with his parents and his mother pulled him aside. "Sam gets a bit nervous on operation day. Don't take anything she says too seriously, it's just her way of coping."

Sherlock nodded, taking this information in. Molly came over to them all, "Sam's all checked in, we need to head to floor three. That's where her ward is."

"I think it would be a good idea to head up now," Mrs Holmes suggested. "It might help calm Sam down a bit, and if she wants to lie down then she will have the bed to do so."

"Yes, that's a good idea," Molly agreed. She went to Sam "Time to head up to the ward."

Sam nodded, not in the mood to speak at the moment as she felt her pulse start to quicken again. Molly pushed her into the lift and everyone else joined them though no one spoke till they were on the ward.

"Here's your room where you will be for a little bit," a nurse said, directing them into a clean white room. On the wall was a small flat screen TV. To the left of the room was a window that looked out into the city though Sam couldn't see anything that would look familiar to a tourist's eye, just buildings and a slightly lighter sky. In the middle was a bed that looked neatly made. Sam didn't; want to touch it due to the fact of how nice it looked, it would almost be a crime to touch it. Above the bed were hospital wires and buttons.

The nurse walked past them and picked up a remote attached too the bed "This is the up and down controls for the bed to help you get comfortable. Would you like me to show you how it works?" she asked Sam in a tone as if speaking to a young child.

"I'm okay, thanks, I've been in hospital before. I um know how it works," Sam said in a tone that she hoped would politely tell the nurse not to patronise her.

"Okay well, that's good," the nurse said, walking to the exit of the room. "We will be back in a few minutes with just a few forms, there's a couple of things we just need to check. Why don't you all try and get comfortable till then?"

Sam transferred from her wheelchair to the bed now uncaring about trying to keep it neat, just wanting to lie down for all the prodding and poking. "I'm hungry," she spoke to the wall.

"I know, I am too. I made sure not to have breakfast too." Molly tried helpfully.

"Just think, after the operation you can eat as much as you'd like." Her grandfather chipped in.

The same nurse appeared at the door again. "Hi, can I just borrow Sam for one moment?"

"Height and weight cheek?" Sam questioned as she got off the bed.

"The very one. You really have been through this all before."

Sam followed the nurse, leaving the rest of the family in the room. When she was back in, another nurse appeared with a form to go through. Sam answered the questions by heart as if it was a quiz she never asked to prepare for.

"You've got to put these on," the nurse said, handing her a wristband that had her name and date of birth on it.

"It won't be long now, will it?" Sam said, looking at Molly

"I would say so, the nurse mentioned that you were first on the list."

Another knock on the door brought in an anaesthetist explaining to Sam what they were going to do. Sam listened but Sherlock could tell she was uncomfortable with it all. Next was another face that Sherlock didn't recognise.

"Hello, Sam, good to see you," the woman greeted.

"That's Sam's doctor, Mrs Park"

"Hi." Sam looked up, forcing a smile on her face.

"So, I just wanted to see you before the operation. This is Doctor Bolton," she said, introducing the young male doctor next to her. "He will be giving me a hand during the operation."

Sam looked at her with a sceptical look. "If they're going to be giving you a hand, surely they should be the one having an operation."

A few chuckles came from all the adults in the room. "Nice to see you've still got your sense of humour. Now I hope you don't mind but I need to draw on your legs to mark to see where I will be operating," Doctor Park said, pulling a sharpie from her pocket.

After the doctor drew on Sam's legs, she left to prepare for the operation. The first nurse walked in carrying a hospital gown. "Time to change."

Sam got off the bed once again and took the gown off the nurse "Mum, would you mind helping me?"

"Of course," Molly said, walking into the ensuite bathroom that was attached to her room. Once Sam was out of her clothes and she stepped into the gown, Molly helped tie it up at that back.

"God, I hate these things. they're so unflattering and it feels like my butt is hanging out in front of everyone."

"They're not very nice," Molly agreed. "But I don't think anyone will notice when you're sat on the bed.

It wasn't long after she got changed that Sam was told they were ready for her. Feeling young and vulnerable she tried not to cry but looked to her mum for help.

Molly took her hold of her hand "You're going to be fine. I love you so much. Gramps is going to go down with you just like always."

Sam nodded, knowing she'd work herself up if she tried to say anything.

Next, her grandma walked over. "I love you, dear. Once all of this is over your grandfather and I will take you too see a show I know you'd like."

Sam nodded and smiled; she knew that would be enjoyable.

Finally with a reassuring gaze from his father Sherlock walked up to Sam's bed. It was the first time he'd noticed how small she was. He knew she was still a child but when he spoke with her he didn't see her in that way. She was just Sam, now was this child about to be taken from him? He knew how medical procedures worked. There was a chance she might not come back. He didn't want to let himself think that but a part of him couldn't get it out of his mind. He only just met her, he couldn't lose her now.

"The operation will be fine. Crying and getting emotional will only make it more difficult on yourself," he began before Molly's nails dug into the skin on his hand. "I'll be needing your help working through cases on my website when you're feeling up too it. That's okay with you?"

Sam nodded again

Sherlock leant forwards and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Good. I love ...that."

"We are all ready when you are," one of the porters at the door said.

Molly hugged Sam one more time. "I love you."

"Love you, Mum."

Sam was wheeled out of the room. Sherlock's father followed closely behind, Letting go of Sam's hand briefly, he turned to the others in the room. "I'll make sure she's okay."

Molly slumped into the chair next to where the bed had been, put her face in her hands, finally letting the tears out she didn't want Sam too see. Mrs Holmes came over and put her arm round her. "She'll be fine, dear. She's a fighter, gets it from both of you."

"I know, I just don't like putting her through all of this."

"You're doing what's best for her at the end of the day."

Sherlock sat to the side not really knowing what to say or how to feel. He just wanted Sam back in the room making a comment about anything.

It wasn't long before Mr Holmes walked back into the room. Molly and Sherlock both quickly jumped up onto there feet.

"How was she?" Molly asked with concern in her voice.

"I'm not going to lie to you, she did have a bit of a struggle with going under. It did take a few people to hold her but once they got the cannula in her hand she was fine."

"Oh thank god, that's the bit she hates the most. At least that over with for now."

The Holmes grandparents looked at each other before Mummy Holmes spoke. "We know the surgery is going to be a few hours so we are just going to go grab something to eat across the road. Do either of you want anything?"

"I would," admitted Molly, "but I want to stay here so just in case anything happens to Sam I'm right here."

Mrs Holmes smiled. "I had a feeling you might say that." She pulled out what looked like a small lunch box from her bag. "I made this for you. Please eat something, Molly, you need too."

"Sam told me before she fell asleep to make sure you eat something." Mr Holmes said.

Molly pulled a sandwich out the box and took a bite, finally realising how hungry she really was.

"What about you Sherlock, are you coming with us?" his mother questioned.

"No, I'm going to stay with Molly."

"Well, don't go into your mind palace, and be nice too her."

"I will, Mummy." he said in a tone eerily similar to that of an annoyed five-year-old.

The Holmes grandparents left the room leaving Sherlock and Molly on their own.

"Do you mind if I have one?" Sherlock gestured too the lunchbox.

"Oh no, go right ahead."

Sherlock picked up the one on top and ate it fairly quickly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Molly spoke. "Sherlock I think it's time we talk about everything."