Addilyn walked through the doors, an hour after her loosely enforced curfew, to find her father in his Mind Palace, spread out on the couch like the child he was.

"I'm not dead, in case you cared." He opened his eyes, glanced her over, and then sat up abruptly.

"Underage drinking?! Addilyn, you can't drink underage, you're killing your brain cells, and it's illegal!"

"So," she asked with a shrug, flopping in John's chair. He was out on a date.

"That's it, I'm calling Lestrade. This is the fourth time this week, maybe some time in a jail cell will help you realize you can't go out and get drunk-"

"I'm not drunk. I had one glass. One. You're overreacting."

"Addilyn, I understand it's normal for you to go through a rebellious teenager phase, but this is out of hand-" She sat up quickly.

"What d'you mean?!"

"You're drinking underage, I found pot in your bedroom-"

"An experiment. And it was yours, I stole it off of you."

"And just look at your clothes, completely black? Isn't that a bit much?"

"Just because I wear black clothes doesn't mean anything."

"And what about the music you listen to? My Chemical Romance? An emo band? Addilyn, I'm concerned about you-"

"No, you're concerned about my brain. That's all you care about. You just want me to be like you."

"And what am I?" He had an eyebrow raised challengingly.

"A freak. A psychopath. A general asshole to everyone just because you're smart. I don't want to be you!"

"I'm not a freak," he growled.

"And I don't want to be you!"

"I just want what's best for you-"

"What's best for me?! You pulled me out of school when I was ten to make me into a mini-you! A freak who sits around, waiting for murders all day! I don't want to be that!"

"What do you want to be?!"

"A writer! But every time I mention it, you always have to say how unlikely that is to happen, how I'll probably end up in the streets as part of your Homeless Network! You're an awful parent!"

"DON'T SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!"

"YOU'RE A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH! That's it, no, I can't take it anymore. I'm leaving." She grabbed her phone, coat, and purse, slipping her shoes on.

"And where do you plan on going?"

"Maybe Uncle Mycroft's. He never told me I'll be a failure. Maybe another bar, who knows? Maybe they'll find me tomorrow in the Thames, and you won't cry because you're a fucking emotionless psychopath who wouldn't even mourn the loss of his own daughter. I wish you hadn't gone and gotten Mum killed." Sherlock felt a blind rage at her last statement. Her mother was his girlfriend who'd died a week after giving birth to Addilyn. Her cause of death was a gunshot wound to the head by a sniper. She blamed him for it.

"Don't come back here tomorrow. Or the day after. Or any days after that."

"Wasn't planning on it, Sherlock. Don't get killed. Or do, not like I care. You raised me to be as emotionless as you." She stormed out and plugged her headphones in as she walked down the street. 'I'm Not Okay' blasted in her ears as she walked around aimlessly. It was eleven PM, and she probably should've just gone straight to Mycroft's, but she needed to get rid of some anger. Angry tears streamed down her face and she kept her head ducked down. A man grabbed her from behind and clasped a hand over her mouth. He drug her towards an alleyway as she struggled, her bony limbs flailing wildly. She elbowed him in the stomach as she was thrown in a black car and got duct tape slapped over her mouth. A man in a black suit with carefully styled hair was in the back, typing away at his phone. He slid it in his pocket as she slammed her fists on the windows and pulled at the door, after ripping the duct tape off. He was smiling at her.

"Ah, look at the pretty little girl, Seb. So young...Such a weakness to Sherlock." She froze at his name and turned to look at him, eyes like slits.

"If you took me to get to him, it's no use. He doesn't care about anyone, much less his own flesh and blood."

"And she's humble, too. Good little trophy wife she'll be, Seb. Oh, don't look so startled, Addilyn. Not right away, of course, I'll wait a bit for that. Maybe next Tuesday?" She glared and he rolled his eyes.

"Joking, sweetheart. Probably another two years...Three, if I can control myself."

"Who are you? What d'you want?"

"Use that little brain of yours, why don't you? Must be pretty bright, being Sherlock's daughter and all-"

"I'm not like him," she said quietly. She looked down at her hands, trying not to cry. The reason she never wanted to be like Sherlock was because she couldn't. She wasn't as smart as him, she couldn't deduce people as well, and she felt like a failure because of it.

"Oh well. I'll give you a clue: It starts with 'M' and ends with 'oriarty'." He smiled as her eyes widened suddenly and she backed further into the door. He slid over so she was pressed between him and the door and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Now, your Daddy's gonna meet me at the pool. But he's gonna get a surprise when he instead finds his soldier of a flatmate and delinquent of a daughter there instead- oh, yes, didn't I tell you? I've got John in the trunk."

"Don't hurt John. Don't you dare lay a finger on him."

"What's so special about little Watson that he's a weakness for both Holmeses? He's dreadfully ordinary, if you ask me, and neither you nor Sherly care very much about others-"

"I'm not a freak like him."

"'Course not. But let me tell you, you did get blessed with your father's good looks. Just look at that face...Oh, I can't wait for that to all be mine." His eyes slid over her body and he smirked slightly. She rolled her eyes and pushed him away.

"So, what're you gonna do? Blow me up?"

"None of those bombs were real, sugar, all just cleverly crafted fakes. But I've got one specially made for you, that one's real. What should I do with Johnny-boy," he mused, tapping his chin. He shrugged and looked to her.

"What d'you think, Addy?"

"Let him go."

"I'll just let him be a spectator, how about that?"

"Don't hurt him."

"Relax, he's not even really in the trunk. I didn't kidnap him at all, but you're loyal. Very loyal, very quickly."

"And you're an asshole who kidnaps young girls who ran away from home."

"That I am. Seb, take care of Addy, will you? It's time." They had pulled up in front of the pool. Addilyn knew things were about to go south.