"Watson, I won't let you do this to me again!"
"Do what? How is any of this my fault? This should all be on you!" I flopped onto the old yet familiar couch. Sherlock was pacing around our old room, whispering incoherently.
"Nonononono… why do you continue to do this to me? You are a selfish, bastard and I never want to speak to you again!"
"Why are you yelling, Mrs. Hudson is down stairs."
"No she's not, she's at the market and had you actually cared about any of us, you would know her daily schedule by now!"
I watched as Sherlock massaged his temples and gave a heavy sigh. Why was he sighing? As far as I am concerned he has no right to sigh. His forcing me to help him stop Moriarty, his disappearing act, and his return without a word to me are all his fault and it seems that he is too much of an inconsiderate, arrogant, ass to care about others feelings.
"Dammit Watson! Do you think this is a game?! Why are you laughing?"
"HAHA! Do I think this is a game? No I don't think this is a game but obviously you do. I love how you're trying to turn all this back against me. You are the one that wanted me to help you get Moriarty by ruining my honeymoon. You are the one that decided to pull that disappearing act, and you are they one that left me to think you were still alive with that parcel tormenting me each day thinking you would come back at some point..."
"Well, I'm back and you don't seem to be too happy about that!"
Sherlock is such an ass and he is testing my patients. Of course Sherlock will always try and sometimes will succeed.
"You know what Watson?" He shifted his eyes to look right into mine, "I'm glad you married the bitch cause now you two can be fucked up together."
That did it. I tackled Sherlock and socked him. How dare he speak of my wife in such a manner?
"You insufferable git! Why do you continue to provoke me?"
Sherlock this time refused to look at me and had tears streaming down his face. What they hell? Actually this face was familiar. This was too familiar; I have seen this face before. This was the last face he made before he fell off the terrace. He was sad yet somehow appeased.
"…Get off of me! Get the hell off me!"
"Before I get off you tell me one thing… who are those two little girls?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Just because."
"That isn't an answer."
"…"
"Fine if I tell you, you have to promise to leave me alone… for good."
I roll my eyes, "Yeah, yeah whatever you want."
"Beth and Lilly as you know are my daughters."
"Right, so I can believe that you had time to screw someone while you were out."
"Shut-up and listen. Beth and Lilly are my daughters; there is no easy way to say this, but they are yours as well."
Okay I will admit that I was shocked to hear that, but it is not possible for men to be pregnant. "That is hilarious. I'm glad you remembered I like to laugh." Once again I looked up to find a crying Sherlock, "Why are you crying?"
"You don't want to believe me? After you asked me to tell you, you don't want to believe that those two little girls are your daughters? Have you looked at them, especially Beth? She has your eyes, your hair color, and she even has your laugh. You know what, it doesn't matter what you say because even if you don't want them, they have brought joy to my dark life and I guess I should thank you properly for that."
Why should I believe him of course I have seen those girls and now that he mentions it, the little girl sure does kind of remind me of myself. Suddenly a jumble of foot-step could be heard and Mary burst through the door. "Mary what are you doing here?"
"Don't listen to anything he has to say! He's lying!" She pointed an accusatory finger at Sherlock.
"And what makes you say that?" I ask.
"Because, he is a self-destructive, arrogant, childish git."
"I don't have to listen to these insults." Sherlock stormed out of the room grabbing the little girls who were peeking through the cracks of the door. "Come on we still have to see Clarky and Lestrade, and don't forget, never bother me again."
