It's not easy watching from the side lines as he rushes past you, and the rest of the world, always twenty steps ahead of everyone else, deducing everything was as easy as breathing. It's been this way for longer than I can remember, ever since she died. He wasn't ready for this kind of responsibility, but even he has to grow up and become a real man at some point in his life, although it hasn't happened quite yet.

I don't see him often, I live with other people these days, his parents, after the arguments had started, he had started to read me, and that was a line he promised he would never cross, but he did. Every move I made, he analysed, he knew when my grades were falling by the way I looked at my phone, he knew when I had split up with my boyfriend by my eye shadow colour. He could even hear things in my in my voice when I would phone him after a particularly stressful day at college. Then, the only time I saw him, is when he's on the news, which seemed to grow increasingly, he would be wearing that stupid hat, with the army doctor by his side, where I used to stand, his hand holding mine, but not anymore.

He didn't tell me of his death defying plan for three weeks after he jumped from St Bart's roof, I even went to the funeral, I saw the doctor, and he was sad, heartbroken. When I got home from the service, there he was, sitting on my bed, holding the teddy bear he bought me when I was barely even able to walk.

He looked up at me, with that smile on his face that said 'I know everything'. I'm not surprised, it all clicks into place in my mind, it was the reason why Nana and Grandpa didn't come to the funeral, they knew. They knew he wasn't dead, of course they did, and he would've had to tell them, Nana would have died of shock if he pulled the same stunt on her he was pulling on me. But that's the point, he didn't tell me, no. I had grieved, mourned and cried over the loss of him. And yet, here he is, still smiling at me. I looked over at him, not wanting it to be a trick.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I had to keep you safe." His voice was cold, like it was completely logical.

"Safe?! I've been shunned for months, years, because a sadistic criminal had taken a liking to you! How is faking your death keeping me safe?" I raised my voice, a trait she had, according to Grandpa and Uncle Mycroft.

"If he knew about you, he would harm you; he'd take you away from me."

"Well, it's too late for that, you sent me away, there was no need for me to be taken."

He stood from my bed, placing the bear in his usual place against my pillow. He walked over to me, his extra inches in height causing him to look down at me, for I had inherited her genes when it came to height. I looked at my feet; the idea of looking him in the eye was too much.

That obviously wasn't in his plan, as he gently held my chin, lifting my gaze until we looked into each other's eyes, the identical eyes we shared.

"I did what I had to, to protect you, Maddie."

"Is that you think is best for me?" He didn't reply, or I didn't give him a chance to, "I've watched the news, I've seen your face on my TV, but not in the flesh for nearly 2 years." I felt the tears form.

"Maddie, I'm sorry. You know that I love you."

"I don't think that's good enough anymore, Dad."


I know Sherlock is very OOC in this, but I feel in my mind, if he did have a daughter, he would change around her, for she may be the only person he felt comfortable enough with. Anyways, this was just a one off after watching the new episode. WHICH WAS BLOODY AMAZING. Thanks for reading, review, if you like, I don't mind. Toodles ^_^