A/N: Greetings and salutations my dudes! Welcome to my first Sherlock fanfiction. I apologize in advance if the characters don't seem to be written correctly. This is my first time working with the characters, so I'm just working out how to write them and what not.
Chapter One
The sky was dark by the time that the girl had decided to return home. Her straight, black hair falls past her shoulders and stops just below her shoulder blades. The last inches of her hair fade into a pale blue color that matches that of her eyes. Her eyes are narrowed slightly against the wind, more instinctively than for comfort, and she quickly pulls the hood of her jacket over her face as she walks. She feels quite certain that her father would be very angry with her, but she honestly didn't care at this point.
The wind whistles loudly as the girl turns the corner, her black boots clicking loudly against the concrete. The girl quickly crosses the street and begins walking down the other side of the road. She looks towards the sky as the clouds opens up and rain begins to pour down on her in buckets. She takes no notice of the cold rain except to occasionally wipe water off of her face. Off in the distance, she can she can see lightning cracking across the sky in bursts of blinding light and she can hear thunder exploding over the rooftops.
The girl continues on, violent shivers running through her body. She seems completely unaware of this as she continues to trudge through the pouring rain. Her dark hair is plastered to the side of her face and her pale eyes are blinking quickly as rain drops splash onto her eyelashes. She pulls at the strap of her backpack, attempting to shift it slightly as the weight of her books pulls down on her shoulders. She had forgone bringing a larger jacket with her and is now being protected only by the thin fabric of her black hoodie.
She pulls her cell phone from her pocket, shielding it from the rain as she checks the time. The glowing 6:00 shines onto her face and the corners of her mouth twitch into a frown. She would definitely be grounded for at least eternity, and not just because of the time that she was returning home, but because of the fact that she was risking the chance of being spotted. Her father would be very angry if she was spotted. She was supposed to be a secret after all, and one shouldn't spill their secrets.
Sherlock is stretched out on the couch, a very annoyed expression on his face. His fingers tap impatiently against his thigh as he checks the clock for what must have been the twentieth time within a span of five minutes. He scowls at the clock face as it shows him a time very similar to the one he had seen the first few times he had checked.
"It is still six in the morning. It isn't going to change, no matter how many times you check it." John's slightly annoyed voice breaks into Sherlock's thoughts as the army doctor looks over the top of his newspaper. "Are you waiting for something important?"
"Important? Yes, I would think so." Sherlock gives a cold response before quickly crossing his arms. "I believe that most would consider this important."
"You believe?" John looks at him in disbelief as he sets the paper to the side, watching Sherlock with a slight frown. "You mean to say that you don't know?"
Sherlock doesn't give a response as he once again checks the time, his annoyed expression growing. He can see John out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head and picking up the newspaper again. Sherlock reads over the time displayed on the clock multiple time before shaking his head. It now displays ten minutes past six. This day was certainly going quite well.
A loud knock at the door has Sherlock quickly standing from the couch and rushing down the steps before John even has a chance to move. The definitive pattern of the knock is repeated and Sherlock quickly clamps a hand around the door knob before pulling the door open. He stares out the door as a teenage girl steps into his line of sight
"Hullo. Sorry about the wait." The girl attempts to push past him, but Sherlock pushes her back with a hand against her shoulder. "I was caught up with something. The experiment sort of got out of control."
Sherlock says nothing as he continues to efficiently block the doorway. He crosses his arms and then shoots a slight glare in the direction of the girl. She gives a nervous smile as she looks up at Sherlock, hand subconsciously pulling at the strap of her backpack. Her foot begins to tap against the ground rather quickly, drawing Sherlock's attention to her leg.
"You're bleeding." He states in a tone that states he cares more than he's letting on. He reaches out a hand to grab her shoulder softly. He then leads her into the building and up the small flight of stairs. "Were you aware of that?"
She glances down at her leg as she clumsily walks up the steps, limbs heavy from lack of sleep. The bottom section of her pant leg does indeed seem to be covered in blood, as well as rain water. "Oh, that doesn't look very good." A trace of panic can be heard leaking into her voice as she gives a quietly spoken response.
"This is why you aren't supposed to be out by yourself." Sherlock mutters as they reach the top of the steps. He enters the flat, followed close behind by the girl. "John. It seems that your medical knowledge is needed."
John looks up from his paper and takes in the sight before him. He looks at the girl for a moment before his gaze rests on the bloodsoaked pant leg. He jumps from his chair and ushers the girl over to the couch. Sherlock stands next to the couch and watches as John pulls back the torn fabric of her jeans.
"As soon as I'm done, I expect an explanation from you, Sherlock." John doesn't look up as he speaks, simply continuing his inspection of the wound. He shakes his head slightly as he completely exposes her lower leg, revealing a long gash just above her ankle. "It's not too deep, but it still needs stitches."
"Oh, that's not too bad. Go ahead." The girl gives a small nod before looking over at Sherlock who is watching her with a curious expression. She lifts an eyebrow in question before looking back at John.
"What is that?" Sherlock speaks suddenly, having come up next to John so that he's directly in front of the girl. He picks up a strand of hair from her shoulders and holds the dyed ends in front of her face. "What did you do?"
"Temporary dye. For my experiment." She says through her teeth as she shifts on the couch. Her face holds an expression of annoyance as she watches John for a short moment. The doctor had begun to look through his medical bag again, even though the needle and thread already sit on the floor next to him. "Excuse me, sir, but you've already got the supplies out."
"Experiment? Hmph. Some experiment." Sherlock mutters under his breath as he sits on the arm of the couch. He watches as John looks up from his search to give a quick response to the girl's prior comment.
"Looking for some anesthetic. I'm assuming that you'll want some." John gives a little nod and then turns to look through his bag again. The girl quickly interrupts him by grabbing the needle off of the ground.
"Oh, you're useless. I'll just do it myself." She knits her eyebrows as she pulls at the length of thread before lifting her injured leg onto her other knee. "You are taking far too long. Besides, I don't need any anesthetic."
Sherlock watches in amusement as John fumbles for the needle, attempting to pull it from her hands. He manages to pull the needle towards him with an incredulous expression. The girl simple shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest and glaring slightly at John.
"You don't need any anesthetic? Are you certain that you don't want any?" John holds up the needle, thread now attached. "It will hurt quite a bit."
She stares at him but doesn't respond besides giving a slow nod. Her face holds a slightly unimpressed expression as she props her injured leg up on the small coffee table. John sighs and begins to slowly stitch up the gash. He looks up every so often to watch the girl's facial expressions, but he sees no change. Not a single sign of pain.
"Alright. Just about done." John ties off the thread and then stands up, turning his gaze towards Sherlock. "Now, what exactly is going on?"
"This is Elizabeth." Sherlock moves from the arm of the couch and places himself next to the girl who had propped her both of her legs up on the coffee table again. He then continues speaking, this last part directed mostly at the girl. "She seems to think that returning at any hour of the morning is completely acceptable."
"My name is not Elizabeth. It's Kaley." She speaks in a clipped tone as she shoots him annoyed glare. She keeps her gaze on him for a moment longer before suddenly bringing a hand to her head and falling forwards against Sherlock's shoulder.
Sherlock lifts an eyebrow as a concerned expression falls over his face. He lightly taps a finger against the side of her face with his knuckle and then watches as Kaley lifts her head slowly. She presses the heel of her hand against her eyes as she shifts slightly on the couch. Sherlock shakes his head and pulls her hand away from her face.
"You're going to hurt yourself." He mumbles as Kaley drops her hand down to her side, pulling it out of Sherlock's grasp. He can see John's look of complete bewilderment, but he decides to ignore it for the time being. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I forgot what sleep deprivation feels like. I'm tired." She mumbles as she leans her head against Sherlock's shoulder again, words slurred slightly. Her mouth opens in a loud yawn before her eyes slide shut and she's out like a light.
"Sherlock. What is going on?" John snaps in confusion as he watches the scene before him. "Who is this? And what's wrong with her?"
"I've told you already. This is Elizabeth, or Kaley, I suppose." Sherlock shakes his head, arm wrapping tightly around Kaley's shoulders. He then continues speaking in a slightly harsher tone. "And there is nothing wrong with her."
"Well, I just thought… she didn't seem to feel any pain. She also just collapsed for no reason." John throws his arms up in exasperation. He shakes his head quickly and then speaks again, as if suddenly realizing what Sherlock had said. "Telling me her name doesn't explain anything, Sherlock."
"Fine. I'll tell you her full name. Maybe you can figure it out then." Sherlock's voice takes on that familiar arrogant tone as he glances at John. He keeps his arm around Kaley's shoulders as he speaks slowly. "Her name is Kaley. Elizabeth. Holmes."
John's mouth hangs open as realization dawns on him. He shakes his head as if he can't quite believe what's happening. They sit in awkward silence for several moments before John finally snaps out of it and speaks. "Holmes? She's… related to you?"
"Clearly." Sherlock's mouth quirks into a small, amused expression as he begins to slowly run a hand through Kaley's dark hair. "I would have assumed that the resemblance gave it away."
"So, she's related to you." John raises an eyebrow, confusion still clear on his face. He stands from his crouched position and sits in his chair across from the couch. He runs a hand over his face as he glances at Sherlock. "Is she a niece, or a cousin, or…"
"She's my daughter."