Daddy's Hero
I look into your eyes and…they're annoying perfect. They're everything I expected them to be and everything that I remember them to be. They burn into my skin, bore into my very soul…and I find myself hurting again…I have to look away. And I know that I'll never be able to stop, I'll never stop until one day it destroys me. But I can't think about that day. And, for as long as I'm looking at those eyes I never will.
It's time, oh God, its time for me to lose it again. Why do you do this to me? Why must you reduce me to the pitiful human being standing before you? How…how can you, you, of all people do…this…to me? You're nothing special but those eyes…that passion…that spirit…that drive.
Please stop! My heart feels as if it's going to burst! It's not pleasant I'll tell you now…
Oh God the way you walk towards me. You look so confident, so vibrant, and so very full of life. Why do I compare myself to you? I am so much better than you and I know it but standing in front of you, you reduce me to a hurt, lost child.
Only you can comfort me. I just want you to comfort me.
I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry.
"Look at me." Your voice is trembling, I can't tell whether it's from anger or just the adrenaline pumping through your veins. I don't want to look into those eyes; see what I've hurt again, to see what has become of the damage I've done.
"I said, look at me."
Have we lost the magic that we once had?
Do-do you hate me?
Please don't hate me. You must understand I never wanted it to end up like this…but I had to.
But I'm back now, and everything will be back to normal…we can carry on like we used to…can't we?
Your hands force me to look at you. I don't want – I want to shut my eyes, like a child, absolutely terrified of what I'll see.
I see a smile…and tears; the tears streaming down your face, running over your lips and onto the floor. Your hands clasp onto my shoulders and you look at me with…pride?
Of all emotions…why pride?
It's then you pull me into a hug, whispering softly into my ear.
"I knew…I knew you wouldn't leave me. I just knew. I never gave up on you, you know that? Not like…them. I didn't believe you when you said I was a fake…you…should know me better than that…idiot."
I take my time to answer, I don't want my emotions to cloud my judgement and make my voice crack, no, that would just be humiliating considering our current position.
"I know you didn't – thank you, John."
You pull away, your pride slipping away. Your features turn hard but not unfeeling. "I know why you did it…but that doesn't mean I don't hate what you did to me…to us. You know, I wanted to hit you as soon as you walked through the door but that would only hurt my knuckles and bruise your face. And I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have cared."
A smirk appears on your face and I could feel one appearing on mine.
"Daddy?" I look down, a child no older than two clings desperately to your leg, looking up at me intently. Those brown eyes locking onto me, and me only. I've seen them before, those eyes, so many times.
You scoop the child into your arms, his gaze never leaves me.
"Lockie," You begin; your voice is soothing and calm and once again with a hint of pride. "This is your Uncle Sherlock. The man you're named after."
The child's eyes widen in amazement. He smiles at me; he has your smile too, and extends his small arms out to me.
"Daddy's hero!"
