"A person that truly loves you will never let you go, no matter how hard the situation may be."
*The long awaited chapter! It's been a month and Nevaeh goes through 6 weeks of Chemotherapy. Some changes happens. Sherlock proves that he is there until the end, but that sometimes they have to go alone with it. Surprises ensues, and serious questions are asked.*
Enjoy!~
WARNING: BLOOD, MEDICAL STUFF. DONT LIKE, DONT READ! AND GRAMMAR ERRORS
(Just to say right now...I am no medical expert. I've already messed up and honestly, I can't change it. SO, I am so sorry for messing it up. I did some research and I guess I got it wrong. Apparently chemotherapy happens before the transplant, and so I dun goofed. I AM SO SORRY! I will try to read better at the contexts and hopefully I won't mess up again.)
Week 1:
A month has past, and it was time. 6 weeks of torture.
They arrived at the hospital. Oh how much Nevaeh wanted to run away from this stupid place. Always a gamble. Always pain. And always tiring. She knew it was for the best. She heard the changes in Chemotherapy and let's just say, she was worried from head to toe.
It wasn't a normal activity for her. It was so different and strange. She was scared, not just of Chemotherapy, but the outcome of it. How it will affect her is a mystery, and she dreaded for this day. Things can turn out just fine, but sometimes, it ends with pain.
Luckily she had Sherlock. He would ever so often squeeze her hand for comfort and Nevaeh found ease in that.
A nurse greeted them, with a cheery attitude. Sentiment. No one should be happy about checking into a hospital. She led them to a room, where the Chemotherapy would start.
There was chairs aligned, next to them were heart monitors, and IV's. She shuddered. The nurse instructed to her to sit down and told her the process and the symptoms after wards.
The girl tensed when hearing the symptoms she could be experiencing.
"It may affect you, but I just want to make it clear." The nurse reassured, though it was not very reassuring what-so-ever. "It's like a blood transfusion, so don't worry, alright?"
Nevaeh nodded, but she did worry and the by how Sherlock was looking at her, he knew that she was nervous. "Mr. Holmes?" The nurse turned to him.
He turned his heel and confronted the nurse, "Yes?"
"You may sit next to her if you would like too. The first process will be a bit long unfortunately." She said to both of them, but mostly him. Sherlock nodded but remained standing up.
The nurse left to get the supplies, to start the dreaded chemotherapy.
Finally, Sherlock sat down next to Nevaeh who remained silent with his movement. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Nevaeh hissed, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Just starting chemotherapy, and goodness knows if I'll have those stupid side affects." She growled. Sherlock eyes were wide. He had never seen Nevaeh act like this way before. But he knew that she was petrified. He noticed that in her;that whenever she was hurt, she would show aggressiveness.
" I know your scared, but trust me, it will get better." Sherlock said to her, trying to coax her.
Nevaeh looked at him, with fearful face, "But what if it doesn't?"
"Oh, but it will." He smiled, "Because you...are the strongest kid I met."
Nevaeh looked at him confused, but Sherlock kept going. "I know you went through hell and back...alone that is. But that's just one of the reasons why your strong. You won't have to go through this alone, and that will make you even stronger."
She processed the words and nodded, a little reassured. And that was enough for Sherlock.
The woman came back, and started the whole process. "Okay, darling, we're just going to insert this tube in your arm." She said gently, as she held the needle. Nevaeh gulped and nodded. "Take a deep breath, and blow it out when it is inserted." She told.
Nevaeh inhaled, and exhaled, choking back a bit when it inserted. The chemotherapy was now in process. But it was so much worse than a regular blood transfusion. This time, it stung. The thought that the chemo just going through her body made her feel nauseated.
The nurse took off her gloves and threw them away. She turned to them, "It will take a bit, so just relax and I'll see you soon. If you experience shakiness, its perfectly normal. That means its reacting, which is what we want."
Nevaeh nodded feebly. The nurse left the detective and the girl alone. She was shaking, no doubt. It reacted quickly and before she knew it, she felt lethargic. Sherlock looked at her with worry. He knew that this was the whole process of it; he looked it up before. But just watching this whole scene was killing him.
His child, going through this, was worse then his own injuries.
Sherlock held out his arm, letting his hand touch the top of her hair. He stroked her head, letting his hand brush over her forehead, getting the loose strands of hair off her face.
It was only about 20 minutes when Nevaeh started to get the symptoms. And she could not disguise the sickly feeling in the pit in her stomach.
"I don't...feel so good." She mumbled. Nevaeh was paler, and she looked sick...deathly sick. Not even bothering to excuse himself, he rushed to the nearest nurse, leaving Nevaeh alone in the chemotherapy room.
Both of them rushed back. The nurse had a bowl. Once they got there and the nurse handed the bowl to Nevaeh, she instantly grabbed it, turned away from them and vomited.
Sherlock tried not to cringe, instead he rubbed Neveah's back until she emptied her stomach. The nurse was back with a brand new bowl and took out the used one. "Sorry..." She croaked, voice raw and aching.
He shook his head, and started caressing her cheek, "It's not your fault."
"Kinda is...it was from my stomach." She reasoned, but Sherlock just shook his head again, "But that was from the chemo, my dear.
She didn't argue anymore. She was to tired of speaking, but it was also sore. Another symptom. Nevaeh breathed shallow, her chest constricting with pain. In all honestly, Nevaeh would rather have a hundred blood transfusions than 6 weeks of this.
An hour has passed and they were done. However, Nevaeh's legs were to weak to actually stand up. Sherlock lifted her up and brought her head to his shoulder. He walked by the nurse who was showing them the exit. While they were walking the nurse told him to look up the rest of the side affects. Some he can help with and some they would have to wait to pass.
Thanking the nurse, he headed out. Sherlock hailed a cab and gently clipped Nevaeh's belt on and then his own. He requested the driver to go easy, and so they did. It took a while longer for them to get home. But he would rather take the longer way then Nevaeh throwing up in the backseat.
He took a hold of Nevaeh and ringed the doorbell, not even bothering to use his keys, considering he had a unconscious girl in his arms. Mrs. Hudson opened the door and she gasped, "Oh my dear...what happened?"
"Nevaeh has to do chemotherapy for 6 weeks." He gritted. Sherlock could hear Nevaeh make some even breaths, indicating that she was finally sleeping.
"Oh dear, well make sure she's well rested." Mrs. Hudson advised. Sherlock nodded and headed to his own flat. He lied Nevaeh on the couch so he could watch her. It was easier than walking upstairs every hour.
He hauled a blanket on top of her and kissed her head, "Rest well, my dear."
A few hours later, she was up, but still not feeling well. Her throat hurt like crazy, and her arm were sore. Where the needle pricked her, there was a giant bruise. Sherlock examined it for a few moments and got some ointment for her.
He was willing to go out and get some ice cream for the poor girl.
"Would you like me to go get some ice-cream?" He asked her. But Nevaeh shook her head, which surprised Sherlock. Usually kids love ice cream. "Read me the story." She implied.
"If you insist."
He picked up the book and scooted next to Nevaeh, who laid her head on his lap. He started reading.
Week 2:
She was still recovering from last weeks symptoms and putting more chemo inside her already frail body was going to make it worse. He knew it wasn't going to be very long for the 6 weeks to past. It was the days that were going slow.
They arrived at the hospital and Nevaeh was already tempting to runaway, if it weren't for her legs to feel like a twig. The last symptoms were fatigue, and nausea. She would say she had a sore throat but it didn't last long.
The same nurse greeted them and showed them to the chemotherapy room.
She explained the process again, and inserted the tube into her other arm, considering there was a huge bruise on her other forearm. She bid them a farewell and Nevaeh was already waiting for another symptom.
"Do you feel any other symptoms?" Sherlock questioned, keeping a vigilant eye on her. She thought and then shrugged, "Not feeling anything but the regular nausea and tiredness from last weeks."
"Do you need me to acquire the bowl?"
Nevaeh shook her head, "Not enough for me to throw up again, but enough for me to feel like i'm spinning."
He nodded and leaned back in the chair and sighed, closing his eyes.
Sherlock didn't know how long he closed his eyes, but he did hear Nevaeh call him. "Dad?"
"Hmm?" He opened his eyes and turned to his daughter who's nose was bleeding erratically. Sherlock shot up forward out his seat, making the chair scoot backwards. He scanned his eyes for napkins or a cloth in the room, but to no avail. Nevaeh was cupping her nose, trying to stop the blood from spilling everywhere.
"Where are the napkins?!" He called out to no one in particular.
"It's right over there." The girl said, but muffled by her hands. She gestured her head to the door, where the napkin dispenser was next to. He hurriedly went to the napkin dispenser and took out loads of napkins for Nevaeh.
After getting mountains of napkins he swiftly went beside her, crouching down and hovering the napkin under her chin. She grasped it quickly and immediately cupped the napkin under her nose.
They waited for the blood to stop and eventually, the blood was so much it was going down her throat. She coughed some up from her mouth, letting some blood drip from her lip. Sherlock wiped the blood off and continued handing her new napkins for the poor girl's nose. The sullied napkins were on the floor, sometimes smearing the tiles with the bloodied tissues.
The blood was still running when the nurse came back. The nurse seemed to know what to do as she asked Nevaeh to blow her nose slightly. She did and she felt a giant clot come out. Nevaeh or Sherlock didn't dare to look at the blood clot, instead she folded the napkin and let it drop to the floor. The nurses can pick it up later.
After that, the blood started slowing down, much to the girl and Sherlock's relief. They didn't even realize Nevaeh was done with this weeks chemotherapy. "Was that one of the symptoms?" Nevaeh asked, as she was dabbing the rest of the blood off her nose. To be fair, the blood was all over her. On her clothes, chin and mouth. She tried to wipe it off, but the red, gooey liquid dried onto her pale skin.
"Yes it is. You may experience more of these at home, so make sure you watch out for them. They can happen at night." She warned.
Sherlock and Nevaeh nodded. The nurse un-clipped the IV and they left. She was able to walk, but very slowly. "Can I go to the bathroom?" Nevaeh asked as they were walking down the halls.
Sherlock nodded. Once the the bathroom door was closed, he gave an exasperated sigh. He ran his fingers through his curly hair. Bloody freaking noses now?! Not mention they can happen in the middle of night, which means Nevaeh could possibly choke on her blood if she doesn't wake from the blood.
Now he had to watch her at all times. He made a decision. Nevaeh was not to be alone, she would sleep in his bed, once the 6 weeks were up. No exceptions. If he had a case, she would ask Mrs. Hudson, or Molly to watch her.
She left to go the bathroom. Nevaeh looked at herself in the mirror. It looked like she committed a bloody murder. She used the paper towels, wetting them and wiping it on her face, ignoring the chilling water soaking in.
After cleaning herself up, she looked one last time in the mirror. Her cheek were red from rubbing to hard, and her clothes was a bust. She would have to use hydrogen peroxide to get rid of that. Feeling at least presentable, she left the bathroom.
Sherlock was there waiting beside the door. When the door opened he sat up straight and looked at her, She was clean, other than her clothes, but that was manageable.
"Better?" He asked.
"Much." She replied. With that they left the hospital and into the safety of their flat.
Week 3:
The last week wasn't as hectic as the first week. They were however, some bloody mishaps, and unfortunately, they were during the night. When Sherlock had suggested she should sleep in his bed until chemotherapy was over, and she didn't hesitate, also knowing what could happen if the bloody nose happened alone, if she were to be asleep.
The accidents would occur every few hours of the night. Sherlock had presumed that the bloody noses happen at night when she's breathing through her nose, while in the daytime, she breathes through her mouth.
The bloody noses itself, lasted for about 10 to 15 minutes, leaving a very tired daughter and father. They would immediately fall asleep after that, hoping that it was the last one for the night. Sometimes they would get that wish, other times, not so much.
Luckily, as the days wore off, so did the frequency of the bloody noses, much to relief of Nevaeh and Sherlock.
Arriving at the hospital with no bloody noses last night and getting a good nights rest, they were prepared as ever. They always arrived with Nevaeh locking her hands into Sherlock's large hand.
The process was the same. The nurse as well. And the explanations. Inserting the needle, feeling a sting, and then waiting for a symptom. Same as ever. Fortunately the chemotherapy seemed to take about an hour or so. 'Just 3 more weeks.' She thought.
She didn't feel any symptoms come her way, which was a different, though she was feeling a bit cold. "Dad?"
"Yes?" He turned towards her.
"Are you cold?"
Sherlock looked at himself. Well he was wearing a coat, and Nevaeh wasn't. Maybe it was cold. "I don't feel cold, but the possibility is that I am not, is because I am wearing a coat." He joked. Nevaeh giggled, and Sherlock's heart fluttered.
She shivered again. Okay it was freaking cold now. "Are you sure? I am freezing!" Nevaeh shuddered. Sherlock didn't seem to know why she was cold, which was concerning. He took off his coat and draped it over Nevaeh's small body. Instantly she snuggled into his coat, smelling his scent reassuringly.
He smiled and asked, "Better?"
Nevaeh hummed in agreement. Sherlock huffed an amused chuckle. No cold air was felt on his skin, not one bit. It was actually quite warm in the room, but still not enough for Sherlock to take off his precious coat.
"Hmm..." He thought.
"What?" Nevaeh heard Sherlock, she saw Sherlock stare at her with his steel eyes.
"That could be one of your symptoms.?" He theorized.
"Really?" She asked incredulously. "I just thought I was cold or something."
"Hm, I did read a bit of the symptoms you might have, such as shivers and fevers, and other good stuff..." He emphasized the last words. Nevaeh snorted but quickly thought of the possibilities. "Yeah, your probably right."
Sherlock sat down next to Nevaeh with a chair she was sitting and propped his elbows on his knees, thinking and staring at Nevaeh's soft facial expressions. Sherlock noticed that she wasn't eating as she used to before. She was getting thinner...maybe another symptom. But for now, he really needed to feed his daughter something that will stick to her bones, or else she will be more fatigued.
"Hey..." He said.
Nevaeh looked to him and gave him a puzzled look. "Yes?"
"Would you like to go to a bakery after this?" Sherlock asked. He expected a nod or an excited yes, but all he got a furrowed brow, expressed with an even more perplexed face. "What is that?"
"Where bread,cakes and other sweets are made...do you not know any of this?" He asked, equally as bemused as she was. How could a child not know about a bakery? Did her boarding school not allow such things?
Nevaeh shrugged, making the coat fall off her shoulders, "My boarding school never really taught of those. They always said that our foods come from factories, or farms. They might've mentioned about bakeries, but they never really explained it."
"I see..." He could say. That makes more sense. It was always the boarding school's fault. "What foods did you eat?" Sherlock questioned.
"Sometimes porridge, vegetables, fruit, bread, some chicken and beef. They were plain with their foods, so weren't any special with that. It just depended." She explained.
"Interesting." He mused.
"But I would love to go." She added, a little more excitement in her voice, "Better than sitting in the flat all day, thinking about the next 3 weeks."
Sherlock grinned, "Then that's what we shall do."
45 minutes later, they were done with this weeks chemo. And luckily, the bakery was across the street from the hospital, which wasn't a very long walk, much to Sherlock's relief. He didn't want Nevaeh to get sick.
While they were there, lets just say, they're were a lot of 'wows' and 'woahs' from the girl. Her eyes would widen whenever. When Nevaeh went into the bakery, she was instantaneously hit with a warm feeling left in her chest. The smell of Cakes, and bread. It was a weird feeling, but it was good.
Sherlock wanted to let Nevaeh try a piece of his favorite cake. And when she did, she loved it the first time it hit her taste buds. Her eyes glimmered with the sweet thing melting in her mouth. "This is what sweets taste like?" She asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
Sherlock nodded, smiling as her eyes were giving excitement features. "Wow, I can't believe this is what a bakery does. It's really fascinating." She breathed. He grinned.
They went home with a few extra things. And by that, loads of breads, and Sherlock and Nevaeh's now favorite cake. It would definitely help Nevaeh gain some weight, hopefully.
Week 4:
"Absolutely not!" Sherlock hissed through the phone. Nevaeh was taking a shower before they left for the Chemotherapy. "Are you out your mind?! I can't just leave Nevaeh alone in the room...By herself! She needs me!"
"Sherlock! This is a mass murder! No one is going to be safe unless you help us!" Greg pleaded. "Look, we can get someone to replace you while you figure this out?"
"I. Am. Not. Leaving. Her. Alone." He gritted out roughly. "I am a father, therefore, my daughter comes first, you hear me?" Sherlock said, with venom in his voice. He wasn't leaving his daughter. There were silence between the two and Greg gave a sigh in defeat.
"Fine, you win. But when you have the time, please let me know." Greg had said eventually.
Sherlock gave a firm nod -not that anyone was watching- "Good. Once Nevaeh is done with chemo I will let you know."
With that, they hung up. Sherlock placed his phone on the coffee table. A mass murder? Sherlock craved the mystery, but the paternal instincts were stronger apparently. He sighed, and sat down, his hands supporting his head as he leaned forward.
"So...Mr. Lestrade needs you for a case?" A voice popped in the living room. Sherlock lunged forward and darted to Nevaeh, who's hair was wet and seemed to just gotten out of the shower.
Sherlock relaxed a bit, but remained standing, "Yes, but I backed down." He said, hands balled tight into fists, and looked down. Nevaeh saw. She seemed reluctant to say this, but if it was that important, she's rather do Chemo alone then think about a mass murderer terrorizing London.
"...You should go..." She whispered.
"What?" He gasped, his head darted upwards to see her small form. "You can't be serious?"
"I know, but it seems like Gerald needs you." She reasoned, "And it's not like your going to be gone long...right?"
"But, you need me." He explained, but Nevaeh stopped him. "Lestrade needs you more than I need you. I'll manage." She picked up his phone from the coffee table and softly shoved the phone his hands. "Call him, and say you'll help." She behest.
Sherlock looked at her and saw determination in the girl's eyes. Was he really doing this? Leaving his daughter just so he can solve a case. He unlocked the phone and made a call.
The phone ringed for a second and then heard a click. "Lestrade? I'll help."
At the hospital:
"Are you sure?" He asked again. Nevaeh just nodded, "Yes, I will be fine."
"Okay..."
They arrived at the Chemotherapy and Nevaeh sat down as usual, waiting for the nurse to come and explain the procedure. Sherlock looked reluctant, he honestly didn't want to leave her alone. He should've called John, or his parents, heck, he would even call Mycroft.
"Dad...go. The more you wait, the more it'll take." She said lucidly. Sherlock shook his head as his thoughts were interrupted. He marched over to her and gave a lingering kiss on her head. He lifted up, "I'll be back before you know it."
"I have no doubt." She smiled.
He turned his heel and left the girl, alone. She sighed. It wasn't going to be bad alone. It's not like Sherlock was going to leave her forever. Besides the mass murder was even bigger.
The nurse came in and smiled gently, "Ready?"
Nevaeh nodded.
Meanwhile...
He arrived at the crime-scene. Sherlock saw Greg, talking to some police officers.
"Inspector." He rumbled un-enthusiastically to him. Lestrade looked at him and gave a firm nod, "Sherlock."
"So where is the carcass? I want to figure this case out as soon as possible." He mumbled.
Greg understood why Sherlock was so upset. Usually when he would ask for the detectives help for a unsolvable case that his team can't do, it made Sherlock bounce with giddiness. But now that he was away from his adopted daughter, things has changed drastically.
"Of course." He said, guiding the consulting detective to the body.
Sherlock saw Anderson and Donovan talking with each other. Were inspecting the body as well. They looked up and smirked, "Well, if isn't the Scotland Yard freak." Anderson mused, while Donovan giggled.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Ah, yes. Hello Anderson and Donovan, I see you need my assistance with an easy case, but I guess that can't be help, seeing as your no smarter than a jellyfish." Greg concealed his smirk, while Sherlock was smirking prideful. Jellyfishes didn't have brains.
They rolled their eyes and let the freak take out his magnifying glass. Male, 24 years old. multiple gunshots, head trauma. Dirt smeared on his left side. Possibly slid down a hill. Clothes look to be of camping. After a few moments, he pocketed the glass and looked at Greg, "Any suspects?"
"Yes, a 34 year old woman found the body at around 11:49am, in a garbage chute." He explained. Sherlock nodded, he inspected the young corpse and raised his brow. "Family members?"
"2 older siblings. Mother died of lung cancer and their father died of hearts disease." The inspector said, reading the papers. "But there was 3 more bodies found in different garbage chutes. We assume that they were murdered at the same time."
"Do they have the same gunshot wounds?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes."
Sherlock nodded, "Then yes, it is the same person. It seems like the dead bodies knew each other, which in this case they could've murdered by a friend or relative. Find the history of their friends and examine their homes. They were out camping. So the murderer could kill them without anyone hearing a peep. If you find a home with a Ruger Black Hawk, that's the murderer." Sherlock said.
"Okay, that's good. I think we can handle it from here." Greg said. Sherlock gave a deep sigh of relief, "Finally!" He waved them off, until Anderson and Donovan blocked his way.
"So I hear you have a daughter." Donovan raised her brow. Sherlock lips twitched. Darn! He tried so hard to keep his daughter private from them, but he knew eventually they would know.
Sherlock didn't answer.
"Oh Sherlock. We know about your daughter of the freak." Donovan sneered. "Another freak to add." She mused. Sherlock growled dangerously, his eyes boiling with anger. Donovan and Anderson stopped joking and took a step back from him.
"Do anything that will hurt my daughter and I promise you with every fiber of my being, that you will not see the light of day." He pointed his finger at them, warning them. They realized how serious Sherlock was and darted off.
He sighed and rolled their eyes at them. "Can I go now?" Sherlock said anxiously.
Greg watched the whole scene and was stunned. Wow, he knew Sherlock was dangerous sometimes, but not that dangerous for them to run off. "Huh, wait, uh...yes you can."
"Good. I shall see you later." With that he turned around and rushed to the hospital.
Sherlock arrived at the hospital, gracefully gliding past rooms and into a hall, where at the end was his daughter. He wasn't gone long. Maybe 45 minutes. Hopefully she was done with the chemo and that they could go home.
He made it to the door entrance and saw Nevaeh sitting, with no IV. She was done and waiting for Sherlock. She turned her head and smiled, "That was quick." Sherlock breathed in relief, and chuckled, "You as well. Have fun?" He asked.
"Oh totally. Just got some more symptoms to add to my body." She replied facetiously. Sherlock grinned, but also frowned when she mentioned a new symptom. "What other symptom?"
"I can't feel my arm." She sighed as she poked her tender arm, but could not feel anything. It was tingling almost, like it wants to stop being numb, but refuses to. Sherlock walked to his daughter and laid a hand on her arm. She didn't flinch when he pressed his finger firmly on the skin.
"So you really can't feel anything?"
"Nope." She popped the 'p'
"Can you lift it?" He asked. Nevaeh thought and tried to lift it, but to no avail, it didn't lift up. Sherlock sighed, "I really am despising these symptoms of yours."
Nevaeh rolled her eyes, but smiled, "Tell me about it." Sherlock huffed a laugh, "Ready to go, my dear?"
"Goodness, yes." She said desperately, as she sat up. He chuckled, letting his deep laugh echo through the room. They held hands, walking side by side. Sherlock was really tall compared to Nevaeh, but in all honesty, he didn't mind. Though Nevaeh wished she could be at least a little taller.
Sherlock and Nevaeh left the hospital, still holding hands, although they had to use the opposite hands they were used too.
Week 5:
It was almost over. Just this week and then next week, then the chemotherapy would be over. No more sore arms, no more of the smell of the hospital smells. It would all be over. Soon.
The last week, her arm would not cooperate with her, not at the slightest. She had to use her opposite hand that week and she got easily frustrated. Nevaeh couldn't draw, or even hold her heavy book with that arm. Sherlock always told her that being ambidextrous was a good thing, but Nevaeh liked her dominant left hand.
She finally got her arm come back to life a few days later. It was weird at first after she's been using her right hand to do stuff. But quickly got used to it, enjoying that she has her left arm to work.
Though unfortunately, she had another day of chemotherapy. Another day, another surprise. It was now normal, but soon enough, she was going to be a normal child, doing normal things and not be stuck in a fishbowl.
Nevaeh couldn't wait until the chemotherapy session was over, and neither could Sherlock. After almost 2 months of this, he was just waiting for it to end. Nevaeh was going to be happy and now they could settle in with their lives.
Little did Nevaeh know that Sherlock really wanted to celebrate her finally having liberty from being cooped up in a hospital for so long. He wanted to make it special. So he texted Molly and surprisingly his parents for help. They obliged happily when they received text's from him and would gladly help him.
Sherlock was a bit giddy that day, because something he bought, that was customized just for her, came in.
Nevaeh seemed to notice his joyous manner. "You seem excited?" She teased a bit.
"I am. This week and next week is the last of chemotherapy. I am quite surprised that your not showing your enthusiasm." He remarked. Nevaeh shrugged, "When its my last day of chemotherapy, then I'll be happy." She joked. But in seriousness, she was quite excited to be done with this. Only a week and it will be over.
Sherlock grinned at her joke. They arrived at the same old hospital, with the same room, nurse and everything else in the vicinity. They haven't seen John since they've been doing chemo, but it was logical, considering he helped in the other department.
"Excited that next week will be your last chemo session." The nurse asked, distracting Nevaeh from the needle. The girl nodded happily. "Yep." The nurse smiled, and nodded. Getting the needle attached, she did the same thing. Throwing away her gloves and then leaving them until she was done.
Sherlock had gotten many buzzes from his phone and though he tried to silence it, but unfortunately his request was denied. Nevaeh was getting more interested on why he was getting so many text messages.
"Who is texting you?" She asked eventually.
"Oh um, my mom. She's asking me for...a case." He stuttered. Sherlock looked at her with a weak, nervous smile. Nevaeh eyed him, not really believing him whatsoever. "Alright..." She dropped the subject, not even trying to pry it out of him. Sherlock sighed silently in relief. He was really good at manipulating other people but not his own daughter.
A few minutes later, Nevaeh was hot. Not like a hot, summer time one, but like sick hot. There was sweat forming on her forehead. She tried wiping it off, but it still came afterwards. Sherlock looked up from his phone and saw Nevaeh's pale face flush with a red.
"Are you okay?" He asked, dropping his phone in his coat pocket.
"I'm...I'm really hot, and I don't feel so good anymore." She breathed, finding it hard to breathe. Sherlock stood up and a palm went to her head. He retracted his hand and looked in horror. She was really warm. It didn't seem like a good sign.
He buzzed a button where a nurse would come if anything happened. Immediately, a nurse came and saw Nevaeh flushed. "Oh dear...another symptom." The nurse sighed.
She put on her gloves and took out a thermometer. "Open up." She ordered. Nevaeh opened her mouth and let the stick insert into her mouth. They waited for a few moments before the thermometer beeped.
The nurse checked, and made a 'tsk' noise. "You have a fever dear, 99.8. Once your done with this, you need rest after this." She advised as she threw away the thermometer and gloves. Nevaeh nodded tiredly, and the nurse left.
Sherlock stroked her head, "My dear, you have a fever." He murmured unhappily. Nevaeh closed her eyes and nodded, "I'll be fine...just another symptom. No biggie...though I'm tired right now.." She whispered.
"Then sleep. If your still asleep when we're done, I'll carry you home." He reasoned. Nevaeh was already asleep when he said the last of his words. He chuckled quietly and kissed her hot forehead.
It was a good time for him to text his colleagues to discuss more about the party without Nevaeh being suspicious. He took out his phone and started texting them back with some ideas and plans.
25 minutes later, Nevaeh was finished with the 5th week of chemotherapy and she was fast asleep. Sherlock didn't seem to mind that he had to carry her home. She was light and easy to move without making her stir. Having Nevaeh's head on his shoulder, he bid the nurses a farewell until next week.
When they arrived home, he settled Nevaeh on the couch to keep a close eye on her while she had her fever going. He decided to try to make homemade chicken soup. Thanks to Mrs. Hudson, who graciously filled their fridge with foods, he opened a tab to the best chicken noodle soup he could find on the website.
Little while later...
Neveah woke up and groaned. Her head was pounding. Ah, right fever. She kneaded her fingers on her forehead, hoping to sooth the pounding feeling. The child smelled of something food. The next thing she heard was loud a *clank*
She turned to where the sound was. From the kitchen. Oh dear. She sat up quickly, but instantly regretted as she felt like she was spinning. Slowly but surely, she sauntered to the kitchen where she saw Sherlock stirring something.
He turned to see Nevaeh up and very perplexed on what was going on. He grinned at her outstretched his hand. Nevaeh took a few more steps before taking his hand. "I made you some soup." He told her with a proud grin.
"Ah, that was the noise that woke me up." She said, while sniffing the air. "It smells really good. What is it?"
"Chicken noodle soup. Would you like to try? I thought it would help with your fever." He mused, taking a spoon out of a drawer.
"It might very well. Though, I do have a headache right now." She frowned. He gave her an empathetic smile and handed her the spoon. Nevaeh dipped the spoon into the hot liquid, and blew the soup to cool down. After that she tipped the spoon into her mouth and felt the warm broth go down her throat.
She smacked her lips and looked up to Sherlock, who bit his lip, obviously wondering if she liked it.
"This...is really good!" She exclaimed, smiling when Sherlock released his breath of relief. "I am very glad you do. I must admit, I do not cook very often." He said. "For a person who hasn't cooked, this is some good soup." Nevaeh complimented, twirling the handle of the spoon.
Sherlock chuckled, "Thank you. Now let's say we grab some soup and we can lounge around, hmm?" He asked, taking two bowls out of the cabinets. Nevaeh nodded, "Sounds good to me. I'm really tired still."
She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Stupid symptoms..." She muttered.
"Luckily, you only have a week left." He reassured, scooping the broth into the bowls.
"Can't wait."
Sherlock smiled, "Me neither."
With that, they took their soups and sat down in the dining room. slurping up their soups and occasionally talking, although, Nevaeh was dead asleep when she all-but-fell on the couch. In which Sherlock couldn't conceal his smile when she curled up into a ball and slept peacefully.
He kissed her forehead -which wasn't hot anymore, just warm- and stroked her head for a bit, before sitting down in his chair and getting laptop open.
Week 6:
Today was the day. The last day of Chemotherapy. Nevaeh was bouncing off the walls that day. Finally, after this, she will be free;from the hospital and from getting chemotherapy.
She knew that sometimes, that she would have to get blood transfusions, but now that she has new bone marrow, it was unlikely. Sherlock, as well, was excited too, not just that this was Nevaeh's last day, but he had something exciting he's been planning for a week with his colleagues.
Though, Sherlock had to make Nevaeh leave the flat a little earlier then they originally do. That was not a problem. Nevaeh liked walking.
The child was taking a shower, while Sherlock was still texting his colleagues, asking if anything was in order. He got multiple buzzes, leaving Sherlock grinning. He had already taken a shower way before Nevaeh, so he could get a head start.
The detective heard the girl's small footsteps wander into the kitchen, probably getting water or something. He quickly glided into the kitchen where he saw Nevaeh pouring water into a cup, his thoughts were right, of course. Her hair was damp, and her clothes fresh and clean. She was wearing black Capri pants, and a elbow sleeved shirt that were white with some light blue lacing around the shirt.
It wasn't very cold in the mornings, considering it was Fall, but next month is the first day of Winter.
Nevaeh smiled at him when she saw him. He was dressed as always.
"Excited that this is the last day of your Chemotherapy?" He asked.
Nevaeh nodded, "Yup! I can't wait til it's over." She was daydreaming when it was finally over.
Sherlock nodded and grinned, "Well, would you like to walk before we head to the hospital?" He questioned. Nevaeh looked at the clock and saw it was only 8:00am. Her session starts around 10:30am. "What're we going to do for the two and half hours we have left?" She asked, pursing her lips.
Sherlock shrugged, "We could go to the park for a bit, maybe see some ducks or playground." He suggested.
He was worried that Nevaeh didn't want to go, but Sherlock needed to get Nevaeh out of the flat.
The girl shrugged, "Hey, why not?" Putting away the cup into the sink, she turned to face Sherlock again. "Are we going now, then?" The detective nodded. "Okay. Let me get my shoes on and jacket."
Sherlock sighed in relief. She said yes, that means his friends could work on the flat while they're gone. They have plenty of time to make preparations. Trying to contain his excitement he walked to the hanger and put on his coat around his lanky form.
Nevaeh was ready by the time he put his scarf on around his neck. He smiled, "Ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be." She replied. Sherlock grinned and opened the door for her. It was a brisk but warm day in London. People were walking, doing their own errands.
"So where is the duck pond?" She asked. He smiled at her and took a hold of her hand, gesturing to follow him. "Not that far, it's actually right next to the playground as well."
Back in the Flat:
Molly, John and Greg snuck into the empty Flat of Sherlock and Nevaeh's. They were assigned by Sherlock to help with the decorations when they got home. It was around 9:36am when they arrived at their home. They have only less than 3 hours to finish doing their part.
"See anyone?" John whispered. All of them were crouching below, just in case that they were here and won't be caught.
Molly shook her head and peeked her head to see nothing on. No light. No TV running. This flat was devoid of anything but them. "The coast is clear." She stood up and sighed. Greg and John did the same.
Greg heard pops from his back. He kneaded his back to sooth the cracks and pops, "I'm not getting any more younger." He sighed.
John patted his shoulder, "Me neither."
"Alright, old gits, care to help or what?" Molly joked mockingly.
"Yeah, yeah, we'll get to it." Greg equally as sarcastic as her. Molly rolled her eyes and continued decorating the place with streamers and balloons. After she as done with that, she needed to pick up a cake.
"I need to grab the cake, make sure everything is intact when I get back you two." She said, leaving them to do their own thing. "Let's make some tea and take the soda, chips and other things out." John suggested. Greg nodded and placed a some bags they brought onto the kitchen counter.
While unpacking he saw a music box just above the winder sill. Reluctantly he gently grasped at the box and opened it up. The music box played very beautiful music. He let the music fill the kitchen. It was a nice music box, no doubt was expensive as well.
John must've heard the music, because he came into the kitchen confused. 'What is that?" he pointed to the small box in the inspectors hand.
"I think its a music box for Nevaeh." He guessed.
"...Sherlock really cares for that girl, doesn't he?" John questioned. Greg nodded, "Yeah...he really does."
It was a big shock when Sherlock adopted a girl he met at the hospital. He had never seen Sherlock so close to a child before, heck, he didn't know if his colleague liked children, besides John's daughter. But things were changing for the best.
Greg and John understands how much Sherlock cares for this girl. It would be the same for either one of them, and surprisingly Sherlock too. His thoughts were interrupted he heard a door open and presumed it was Molly back from the bakery.
Softly placing the Music box where it belonged, he continued making the tea and taking some stuff out of the bags.
They arrived at the Duck pond and playground. No one her age was there, considering it was a school day. Though Nevaeh didn't go through those schools normal kids went. It was home school, only from her boarding school, but she knew they would have to discuss the possibilities of going back to school.
But Chemotherapy would have to be first.
Nevaeh and Sherlock walked to the swings, enjoying the air gliding past them. Nevaeh sat, and Sherlock, well...he was a bit to big for the swing, but he managed. The girl looked at him and saw Sherlock sitting uncomfortably, his knees almost scrunched up to his chest.
She started giggling, "A little to small?"
"Too small." Sherlock muttered.
Giggling again, she kicked her feet back and forth until she got force, letting the swing push her into the air. Nevaeh inhaled the air, embracing it. Sherlock tried to swing, but his feet were flat on the ground, making it difficult for him.
He looked dumbfounded. Nevaeh stopped and laughed, "Why don't we look at the geese?" She suggested. Sherlock nodded, relieved that he could get out of those uncomfortable seats.
They walked to the pond and saw either geese picking at the grass for food, or others in the water, gracefully gliding through the water. Finding a bench under a tree, they sat down, and it was much more better than the swings.
"So...any reason why you brought me out 2 hours earlier?" Nevaeh asked, not looking at him, but at the geese. Sherlock looked at her, slightly confused.
Nevaeh looked at him, with full suspicion in her eyes, "I know you've been planning something...the text messages and the eager excitement. Also you asking me to walk is kinda suspicious, don't you think?" She inquired.
"Well, maybe I enjoy taking a walk." He mumbled reasonably.
"Hmm?" She hummed warily, "Seems unlikely of you."
Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly. "Just wanted a change, maybe it's good you get some air before you go into a sanitized place." He smirked.
"Maybe." Nevaeh gave in. But she had other questions as well. "How did you know about this playground." She asked, cocking her head towards the playground. "I've lived in Baker's Street for a very long time, my dear. I know my way around." He answered, eyes scanning the pond.
"Do you visit here often?"
Sherlock nodded, "Sometimes I would accompany John and my Goddaughter. It was most relaxing." He sighed.
"I see..." She pondered, and it was no doubt, Sherlock could tell, that she has more questions popping in her mind. "If you have questions, you can ask me." He simply told her.
"Right..." She said, but a few moments later, "Did you ever want kids?"
Sherlock sputtered, very taken back from that question. He inhaled and exhaled as he started thinking. Maybe he did want kids, maybe he didn't... he didn't really have an answer.
"I-I never really had the time to think very much of that..." Sherlock said, looking down. "I am not married, nor in a relationship." He added.
"Wait, what about Molly?" She raised her brow. Sherlock immediately turned red, and shook his head. "No, me and Ms. Hooper are not together."
"Oh..." Nevaeh realized.
"What?" He asked, trying to conceal his blushing moment.
"I actually thought you were very good friends...more than good friends." She giggled nervously.
Sherlock grinned, a bit uneasy. "Well. Nice deductions...but a bit wrong."
Nevaeh shrugged, "Close enough."
They stayed silent for a while until Nevaeh had something else to say, "By the way. I think you are a great dad." She said quietly, playing with her fingers. Sherlock looked at her, eyes gleaming, with perhaps some tears, but he would never admit it.
"I-I don't know what to say...thank you." He breathed. Sherlock never felt such warmth in those words. Nothing was ever compared to that, and he was glad. Something in his life was good, and it was all because of Nevaeh.
"Thank you..." He said again, but directly at her. Nevaeh smiled and kissed his sharp cheekbone, "Anytime, dad."
Molly heard a ring from phone. Dropping everything she took out her phone and saw Sherlock's name. She answered and brought the device to her ear.
"Hello Sherlock." She called out.
"Molly," He greeted. "I was wondering how everything is going? Is everything precise?" He asked. Molly chuckled, "It's doing good. All we need is everyone and you and your daughter to arrive. How is she?" She quipped.
"No sign of any horrendous symptoms just yet. And hopefully, no more." He sighed.
"Wow, you saying hopeful a lot." Molly giggled.
"...Shut up." He said. Molly just laughed and sighed, "Yes, well. You are changing."
"That doesn't seem to fun." He said, and she could tell that he was frowning. "It's a good change, Sherlock." She reasoned.
"Right...any who, I have to be back before Nevaeh gets suspicious of me. She has already had questioned on why we left so early." He told her. "Like father-like daughter." She hummed.
Molly could see the face Sherlock was making.
"I shall see you soon." He said after a long period of silence. "You as well, don't forget, you owe us."
Sherlock huffed a laugh. "I have my gratitude."
Molly heard a click and put her phone down on the counter. She looked around and saw everything was in place. She peeked into the living room and saw Greg and John leaning against each other, sleeping.
'Oh, for crying out loud.' She huffed out. Molly went back into the kitchen and grabbed a pair of pots. She walked over to the sleeping pair and slammed the pots against each other.
"Gahh!" Greg fell off the couch while John sat up straight, in military stance, obviously very surprised and also thinking he was in the military still. Molly raised her brow at them, while both of them processed on what happened.
"See you decided to take a cat nap?" She asked, but she knew the answer.
"I-just thought the couch looked dirty...and I decided to clean it up." Greg excused. Molly rolled her eyes but smirked. "Right...besides that-John you can stop be in soldier position." Molly pointed out.
John quickly let his salute down, much to his embarrassment of doing that.
"Okay, did you get everything prepared from here?" She asked.
John and Greg nodded, "We got everything in order. We just texted Sherlock's family, including Mycroft and his parents. Us three and I think there is other people coming as well..." John said.
"Good." Molly gave a firm nod. "Now all we need to do is...wait."
"Does this mean we can sleep again?" Greg asked, hopefully.
Molly glared at him, which Greg stepped down. It was a no, he could tell.
"I'll be back, I need to get Rosie from her preschool."John said, as he put on his coat. "I'll be back."
"See you soon." Molly called out to him.
"Looks like your all done!" The nurse said cheerily, as she retracted the last needle she would ever insert for chemo. Throwing away the needle and her gloves, she gave Nevaeh a sticker, that said, 'Good Job!'
Nevaeh and Sherlock tried really hard not to roll their eyes. Sentiment.
"Thank you nurse." Sherlock credited, and shook her hand. The nurse smiled, "I was very honored, sir. I hope you have a good rest of your day."
Sherlock nodded, "You as well."
They walked past the halls and out the hospital doors. Nevaeh literally bounced off and smiled excitingly. "Finally! It's over!" She said, grinning. The detective smiled, and took her hand into his. "Maybe for your chemo-session, but I have a little surprise at home."
"So there was something going on!" She accused, but also wrapping her hands around Sherlock's. He chuckled, "Yes, yes. I admit. I was planning something after your chemo-therapy. Like a celebration." He explained.
"Hmm, what you have plan, then?" She asked.
Sherlock only smirked at her continued going home, leaving a very confused Nevaeh to wonder.
When they arrived at their flat, Sherlock stopped her and looked at her, very animated on what was behind this door. "Ready?"
"Ready?" She asked. "I've been ready since you told me there was something going on in our flat." She joked. Sherlock huffed a laugh, "Well, lets see, shall we?"
He unlocked the door and immediately, Nevaeh heard murmurs and then a loud "Surprise!" Nevaeh jumped a bit, on how many people could fit in this tiny flat. She looked around, lips quirking up high. Greg, John, Molly, Mrs, Hudson, Rosie, Mycroft, Mrs and Mr Holmes, and even-
She didn't recognize those people, but seemed that Sherlock knew, when she heard a scowl from him.
"Guys...when did you plan this?" She asked, walking in, smiling at everyone.
Molly stepped up, "Your father did." She pointed to Sherlock, who was smiling. Nevaeh looked at him with the most precious smile he has ever seen from her. "He wanted to do something for your liberty from the hospital." Molly spoke.
"Well, certainly liberty that's for sure." Nevaeh joked. Some laughed and other's were shaking their head playfully. She looked around. Balloons, chips, alcohol for the adults, soda as well. There were a few streamers hanging but it wasn't much, which was perfectly fine.
"I don't know what to say..." She said, baffled.
"How about we just enjoy the party." Sherlock mused, taking Nevaeh's hand and bringing her in the middle of the living room. Nevaeh laughed and nodded. Rosie toddled to Nevaeh and lifted up her arms, gesturing that she wanted to be picked up.
Nevaeh complied and plucked Rosie up. She bounced Rosie around while the toddler giggled. Sherlock joined John and Greg with talking, while the woman were speaking to each other. Mycroft and his father started a chat as well.
Everyone seemed to know what they wanted to do with the party, except Donovan and Anderson...well, they did not what to do. They got a text from Molly, saying they should meet Sherlock's kid, but didn't want to come after that explicit threat. They knew what he was capable of doing to them.
After a while, Sherlock saw Donovan and Anderson standing like complete idiots. He walked to them, deciding to have a chat with them.
"Anderson, Donovan." Sherlock greeted, his deep baritone voice filling their ears. They both turned to see Sherlock standing right in front of them. "Right, Hello Sherlock." Sally responded, while Anderson nodded in agreement.
"Enjoying the party?" He asked, raising his brow at them.
"Yes, very much so." Sally replied quickly. Sherlock was enjoying their discomfort a bit to much.
Nevaeh was getting tired of bouncing around Rosie and with that, she let John take her away. She waved a small goodbye and Rosie waved back. Nevaeh sighed in relief. Her arms were already sore from needles puncturing her arm this past 6 weeks.
Neaveh saw Sherlock talk to the new people she had never met, and decided she should meet them. She made herself known by settling beside Sherlock until they noticed her.
Anderson and Donovan immediately tensed at the sight of the little girl beside the consulting detective. Sherlock instantly put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. "Nevaeh, these are my other colleagues that work at the Scotland Yard. Sally Donovan, and Anderson."
"Nice to meet you." Nevaeh greeted, nodding. They did the same.
"Hi." Sally greeted.
"Hello." Anderson said quietly.
"I am glad you have made it." She said happily, grinning.
Sally and Anderson looked at each other. Surely Sherlock had told her about them;apparently not. "It was nice meeting you as well." Sally smiled slyly. Anderson got a buzz from his pocket, leaving him startled.
"I-uh, excuse me." He excused, taking out his phone and unlocking it. He read the text message and sighed, pocketing his phone again. "We got something at the Scotland Yard. They want us to check it out." He explained.
Sally nodded, a bit relieved that they can leave, so escape the awkward tension.
"Well, I shall see you soon." Sherlock smirked.
"Of course." Sally responded, quite surprised that he's more polite. Probably because his daughter.
They bid a farewell and left.
"They looked uncomfortable." Nevaeh pointed out. Sherlock shrugged, "I think they can't handle you being to cute." He grinned. Nevaeh rolled her eyes. "Right." She replied sarcastically.
Sherlock huffed a laugh. "Well, let's enjoy the rest of the party, hmm?"
Nevaeh nodded enthusiastically and joined the rest of their friends.
Everyone has left, sometimes saying congratulations from being free of Chemo. It almost twenty past five. Their flat wasn't as messy like they have presumed it to be. All they needed to clean up was the streamers and dishes. John was the last one to leave. He helped a bit while Rosie was asleep in Nevaeh's room -Which Nevaeh had insisted-
Nevaeh's legs ached afterwards. After partying and spending time with family and friends, she felt another late symptom from her last Chemo. Leg cramps. She noticed it when she was playing with Rosie. Thinking it was just from holding Rosie though, she sensed it again, but this time, more stronger. Though she acted as if nothing was wrong.
Nevaeh was able to sit and just relax from their exciting day. Her eyes were closed, glad to rest for a moment. Sherlock on the other hand, still had something to give her. Excusing himself real quick from his spot on the couch, he ventured to his bedroom. He opened his top drawer, revealing a small box.
He was smiling when came back to the living room and Nevaeh creaked her eyes open. "Something else exciting?" She asked, half smiling and half falling asleep. Sherlock chuckled, "Yes, but do you think you can sleep in a second after this?"
Nevaeh opened her blue eyes and laughed, "Don't worry, I won't fall asleep on you. What is it?" She questioned, sitting up and ignoring her legs cramping again.
"Well," He took out a rectangular box from behind his back and presented to her. "I wanted to get something special, really special...so you can remember when your alone, that you not."
Nevaeh looked at him with full curiosity. She reached out and gently took it out of his hands. It appeared to look like some jewelry. Opening it up, she gasped in awe. It was a sterling silver heart shaped locket. In the middle, there was a star engraved out, that was able to see a little inside. Turning the Locket behind, she saw her initials engraved with a beautiful cursive 'NH'. Nevaeh turned it around again and decided to open it, and left her in shock. Inside was a picture of them. It was the picture where they had the exact same T-Shirts, only with different sayings. 'Daddy's best friend' and Daughter's best friend' Picture.
She was able to make Sherlock laugh because she tickled him and they were all laughing by then. Mrs. Holmes took it at the exact moment. It was a precious memory, and apparently after that, Sherlock had used to the photo.
"This...so beautiful..." She breathed, thumbing the star.
Sherlock smiled softly, "I wanted to give you something...for my daughter..."
"You have no idea how much this means to me..." She said, looking at him, eyes gleaming with tears.
"This is for you, and only you. When your alone, your not. This is a gift-a promise to you...that you will never be alone," Sherlock stated. "And that I will always be with you." He finished.
Nevaeh put it on without any help, luckily. It put perfectly, just on top of her heart. She felt the locket against her skin and smiled. Looking at father, she lunged towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you daddy.." She whispered.
Sherlock seemed to see what Nevaeh was about to do, because he opened his arms immediately when she lunged at him. His long arms wrapping around her small body and kissed her head. "I love you more..."
I wanted to make this reality, and I understand the process of the bone marrow transplant a bit to late unfortunately...please for give me D: I hope you enjoyed this, please review and let me know how I can improve or ask questions if you want to! I love all your comments and I hope you'll stick around :)
10,000k fic. How I did this...well, let's just say a lot of energy drinks have been consumed for the past week :) I also want to apologize for any mistakes or any errors. I wanted to proofread more, but I got a minor head injury and it hurts to look at my computer screen for more than 20 minutes :')
Next up, we get to see Mycroft babysit :D
I shall see you soon~（〜^∇^)〜