The Daughter of Deduction
Chapter 1
Rating: T (for language)
Hello, people~ I assume you're here because you saw this was a Sherlock fanfiction, and yes this is for the BBC show. This story can also be found on Quotev. It is by my friend, and with her permission I have been allowed to post it on here in a different version. The rating currently does not apply for this chapter. Enjoy!
The wind whipped around me angrily as the rain beat down upon my shoulders. It was about 8 o'clock in the evening and there was barely a person on the streets. But, I didn't really care. I had far more important things to worry about. My mother had just died, leaving behind only two letters; one for myself, and one addressed to the detective Sherlock Holmes. I was curious as to why my mother would write him, but I would soon find out.
Before my mother had passed on, she told me that I wasn't allowed to open my letter until I gave Mr. Holmes his. It was strange for her to be writing him in the first place, and then to forbid me from reading the last thing I had from her made the entire situation stranger. I never knew my mother to be one who would get mixed up with detectives.
The wind was picking up when I finally made it to the flat. Entering, I ascended the stairs to find 221B Baker Street. I raised my hand and knocked on the door. I could hear footsteps walking towards it and then it was pulled open.
I was greeted by a tall man with curly dark hair and pale green-blue eyes. "Yes?" he asked in a deep voice.
"Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to speak with Sherlock Holmes," I answered, trying to be polite.
"You're currently speaking with him. Now what it is that you need?" he practically demanded.
"I have a letter for you, from my mother. She recently passed away and it was important to her that I deliver it to you," I said and pulled the letter from my pocket. He took it from me, all but yanking it from my hands.
"What is your name?" he asked, once again in his demanding tone as he ripped open the letter.
"Christine," I reply, still remaining polite. For a moment, I see his body tense, but it relaxes as he begins reading the letter. He gets a look of confusion on his face for a few moments as he reads, but then something dawns across his expression, which had been all but empty of emotion. I saw the slightest glint of a tear at the corner of his eye, but it's gone as soon as I see it as he blinked it away. I watched him as he finished reading and slowly looked at me.
"You should come inside," he said, "we have a lot to discuss." He moved back, allowing me to step into the flat. "I understand that your mother also wrote you a letter. You should read it," he said. I nodded, digging it out from my pocket.
With trembling hands, I opened the letter and flattened it out:
My dearest Christine,
As you well know, at this point I have passed on. But you need not worry about me, I am in a better place, I no longer have to suffer. Yet, there is something that I must tell you. Your father is probably sitting in front of you at this point. Yes, he is the detective Sherlock Holmes. The reason why you did not know this is because for the 16 years you have been alive, he has thought you to be dead.
When I was pregnant with you, I also found out I had cancer. I loved you and your father so dearly that I had to let one of you go. I chose him, because I knew once I had passed on, I could send you to him and he would finally have a little happiness. I caused him so much pain the day I left and the years after that this may be the only way I could make up for it. I know that he probably has never truly healed from the pain I caused.
I know it is selfish that I kept you, and made you suffer with me, but I knew it would be worse if I stayed with him. You were so strong for me, you kept me strong. I will always love you, even in death.
Love,
Mom
I stand there for a few minutes, staring down at the letter in absolute shock. I knew my mother's intentions, but they were still cruel. She may have caused more pain than she intended to inflict, but she will always be my mother despite the suffering.
I looked up at my father for a moment and found him watching me with his pale eyes. Before I could say anything to him, two people came through the door.
"Christine, what are you doing here?" my closest friend, Cassie, asked. I watched her in confusion, then saw her uncle standing at her side and the confusion vanished.
"Apparently meeting my father," I answered. Her uncle suddenly collapsed, hitting the ground with a thump, and Cassie simply looks down at him with an annoyed look on her face. "Is he okay?!" I asked, alarmed. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my father shift to get a better look at Mr. Watson, but he doesn't seem all that concerned.
"Oh, him? He'll be fine, he does that a lot," Cassie replied nonchalantly.
"Okay?" I said, rather confused. I'd known her uncle for a while but never once had I seen him collapse like that. I glanced back at Mr. Holmes, then to Cassie who yawned. "Can I pour water on him?" I asked. The tired look disappeared from Cassie's expression, replaced with a grin.
"'Course you can!" she said. I pulled a bottle of water from my school pack and tip-toed over to Mr. Watson's side. Uncapping it, I tipped it over and poured it all on his face.
"Up!" I said loudly, but he doesn't even stir. From behind me I heard a low, rumbling laugh, which caught me by surprise for a second. I turned, brandishing the bottle, and looked up at Mr. Holmes with eyebrows raised. "Would you like to be next?" I asked, sounding astonishingly similar to my mother. Instantly, his little laugh ceases.
"You sound exactly like your mother," he said.
I nodded, and replied softly, "I realized."
"Hey! You guys have the same eyes!" Cassie burst out suddenly.
"True," I agreed, and can't help but notice that our hair is actually the same as well. "Plus the curly hair," I said out loud, with a small smile.
"This is really strange," Cassie said. I chuckle a little at her reaction.
"Imagine how he feels!" I said, but realize Cassie is distracted by nudging her uncle with her toe. I turned back to Mr. Holmes and asked, "Am I supposed to call you Dad, then?"
"I do not know, I'm new at this," he answered with a small shrug.
"My uncle still hasn't woken up yet!" Cassie announced in irritation. I pulled out an ice cold bottle of water and dump this one on his face. He woke up this time.
"What happened?!" he asked, jolting up.
"You swooned, Mr. Watson," I stated.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, sounding confused. "You're my niece's best friend." It sounded like he was trying to reassure himself that it was me here.
"Correction, she is also Sherlock's daughter," Cassie stated.
"Do you not want me here, Mr. Watson?" I asked, ignoring Cassie's statement for the time being. "If it is an inconvenience for you, I will leave."
"You're not going anywhere," my father said to me. I turned to him.
"Oh, really?" I said, my defiant nature coming forward.
"Ooh, sass, I like it," Cassie commented with a smirk. I ignored her again, focusing on my father who was attempting to look stern and…fatherly.
"Yes, you will stay," he said.
"I'd like to see you try and stop me," I stated, crossing my arms.
"Uncle John, I'm hungry," Cassie interrupted us. "Do you have any food?" She walked over to the refrigerator and yanked open the door. From my spot beside Mr. Watson, who still had not gotten up from the floor, I could see a jar full of eyes.
"Okay, now I'm really leaving!" I said, turning towards the door.
"I swear, those weren't there the last time I was here!" Cassie told me, slowly closing the refrigerator.
"I forgot about those," Mr. Holmes said.
"How'd you even get those?" I asked, knowing this was probably something I would have to deal with. "On second thought," I said a beat later, "I don't want to know." I opened up my school pack and pulled out a bag of crisps, throwing them at Cassie.
"This is why we're best friends!" she said, tearing open the bag.
"There's more stuff in my pack," I said, shrugging it off my shoulder. She snatches it away from me, looking like a child at Christmas.
"I need it all!" she exclaimed and I laughed at her love for food.
"That's why I brought it!" I said, shaking my head slightly.
"What just happened?" my father asked no one in particular.
"Friendship, that's what just happened," I stated with a smile.
And done! First chapter completed! Phew!
Hope you enjoyed, reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated!