I don't have it yet a good sense of knowing when

What I do should be immediate

But all this waiting for a sign

From the other side

For fuck's sake this is just a timeline

The next morning, John thanked god Etheldrea did not have work. After she had come home, exhausted and heartbroken, he comforted her the best that he could. But she was still feeling the guilt from the loss of the girl, and hadn't moved from under the cover of her bed all morning.

When he went to grab the paper that morning, he was surprised to see a bouquet of flowers in a beautiful purple vase lying with it. He picked them up and brought them to Etheldrea's room, placing on the end table near her bed. Then he sat down next to her and pulled the blankets back.

"You have an admirer." He said softly, nodding towards the flowers.

She glanced towards them, "From who?"

He shook his head, "Didn't say. There's no note."

"Yes there is."

She turned on her back and sat up, reaching for the vase and began pointing out the different flowers. Every flower had a meaning, a useful lesson she learned from her grandmother.

"These purple – pinkish ones are Azaleas. They mean 'take of yourself for me'. The carnations are striped and they roughly mean 'I'm sorry I can't be with you'. White roses often have multiple meanings, but judging by the other flowers and the fact that there are six roses, it means 'I miss you'. You're sure there wasn't a note?"

"No, just the flowers. Who do you think sent them?"

"No idea. The only people who've sent me flower messages are my grandmother and- dad." She placed the flowers back on the table, "Grandmother, of course. Mycroft must've been watching me yesterday and talked to her. That's surprising."

John stood up, "I'm going to make breakfast; you'll eat."

"Later." She replied as she pulled the blanket back over her head.

He frowned, but he knew he wouldn't let her get away with it that easy. So he hummed and began to leave her room, pulling out the newspaper as he did. The headline made him pause and he turned back to the bed.

"Etheldrea, you might want to see this."

She poked her head out and took the paper from him.

Child Abductor and Murderer Captured. Says Mysterious Vigilante Beat Him.

Etheldrea read through the article, shocked, relieved, and confused at the same time. After an anonymous tip, the killer had been found in an ally, beaten bloody enough to need medical attention. He didn't know who it was, didn't even see a face. No cameras had caught him.

She handed the paper back to John, who left, and reached for her phone. Etheldrea was originally going to email as usual, but decided a call would be nicer and probably more polite. It had been a while since she had actually heard her grandparents, almost a year. Scrolling through the contacts, she dialed called her grandmother. After a few rings, she picked up.

"Etheldrea!" her grandmother gushed, "My little Flower! How are you?"

"Better. I wanted to thank you for the flowers."

"What flowers, dear?"

Etheldrea glanced at the bouquet, confused she asked, "Really? Uncle Mycroft didn't call you?"

"No. What's happened? What's wrong?" she could hear her grandmother start to become frantic.

"Um . . . nothing you need to worry about. Just some work things. Are you sure it wasn't you? Maybe granddad?"

"Sorry dear, we didn't send any flowers. It must have been your Uncle. He's always looking out for you, you know. I know it doesn't seem like it, but he really does. Oh speaking of him, tell Mikey to call me. I've been trying all week."

Still looking at the bouquet, she replied, "Yeah, sure. I've got to go. I'll talk to you soon. Tell granddad hi."

"I will. We love you! Have a great day!"

"You to." Etheldrea hung up and grabbed the bouquet.

She looked over every surface, every stem and petal for a note, a finger print, anything. Mycroft couldn't care less about these things, and he had no reason to send a message like these. He saw her every other Saturday. Who else would send her flowers? It had to be staring her in the face.

Giving up, she started to crawl back under her blanket but she stopped. What was she doing? Hiding away while someone braver than her did what she should be doing? She had the means to, the determination, and not that she felt any scorn towards the vigilante, she could also be doing the same as he was. Saving people, helping them feel safer, that was her passion and right now she moping about.

Throwing back the covers, she got dressed in a worn pair of jeans and white blouse, and then pinned her hair back. From her book shelf she grabbed several files and left her room, ready for whatever was to thrown at her.

As May went on, John noted that she seemed less stressed, and for the first time in weeks was coming home after work, saving her cases for the mornings. He would never admit it, but he hated the late nights. He worried about her, constantly, and those nights were the worst. He knew what she was doing, when he called her every afternoon she'd talk about them. But he still thought about her birthday, about how reckless she'd been, how much danger she'd been in, how he almost lost her so soon after her father.

However, just because she's wasn't going to them at night didn't mean she wasn't working. Some nights he would go to bed, leaving her still up and sorting through files and information or filling out page after page of reports. The next morning he would find her still asleep on the couch if not awake and still working, a noticeable black shade under her eyes. For a while he had thought whenever she went to her room she was going to bed, but that turned out to be a little trick so he wouldn't suspect. He wanted to make her stop, but how could he? She was an adult, it wasn't like he could order her to.

Etheldrea knew he worried, and tried to comfort him. She'd text him whenever she was out later than expected or staying at the office during some long paper work. He always called at noon when he was on his break, and she enjoyed talking with him. She knew he would worry about her riskier cases, and maybe it didn't help calm him as much as she wanted, but she would omit certain parts like if she was in a bad neighborhood or if she was hiding from pursuers. She didn't need any more repeats after lunch with Mary.

Speaking of her, Etheldrea met her a few more times. Mary would be over for dinner, or had dropped John off after work, and sometimes stayed the night. She was really lovely, always happy to see her and she was a great adviser and conversationalist. Whenever she was working on something and Mary was there she would help her out by pointing out connections that she hadn't seen yet, and often led to a quick closed case.

In fact, Mary had just helped her finish file, connecting a drug lord with several robberies. It was the only one she had for the day and all that was left to do was hand over the information (and the information on herself including her whereabouts, interactions, and alibies) to Sargent Collins and everything would be taken care of. She would do that when she got to work though. For now, she and Mary were sitting in the living room while John finished getting ready for work.

"Why do you need to have an alibi?" Mary asked.

Etheldrea replied, "To prove I haven't done any crimes and that I have no connections to the cases. Collins mostly handles the rougher parts, the explaining mostly, and if I handle over my information then the Yard will actually do something about the cases."

"Every case?"

"No, not all. Just the ones that require more authority that I have."

Mary nodded, "I see. So now what are your plans?"

Etheldrea pulled out her phone, "Find another case."

"Are you sure? You should take a day off."

"I have Fridays and Saturdays off."

"They don't count."

John walked into the room and sat down by Mary, "She's right you know."

Etheldrea shook her head, "They never end, you guys."

"We know, but just for right now. Preferably for another five plus minutes."

As soon as he said that, there was a knock at the door. With a smile, John quickly went to get it. Etheldrea internally groaned, not sure if she was ready for John's surprise. But when she saw who was at the door, she couldn't help but feel grateful.

Abigail Grey, happy as ever, walked into the room. When she saw Etheldrea, she squealed and rushed for a hug. Etheldrea stood up and hugged her back. It had been months since they had seen each other, Etheldrea had work at night, and Abigail had school during the day.

Abby was the first to pull back and began to chatter excitedly.

"I can't believe it's taken us this long! Can you? Oh my god, I've missed you so much!"

Etheldrea grinned, "Me too. I'm going to assume you have a plan?"

"Of course. You're getting out of the house today, and you can't complain."

Etheldrea turned and gave a half glare to John and then turned back, "Just this once."

She put on her shoes, and told John and Mary goodbye. When the door closed and the girls were gone, Mary had a small smile on her face.

"So that's Abigail." She said, "I don't mean this in a bad way, but how did they become friends?"

John shook his head, "From what I know, Abigail wouldn't leave her alone, and Etheldrea found someone who wasn't a bully. They've been friends since the day I met her."

Abigail didn't have a destination in mind. The girls just walked and talked, catching up after so many months apart. Abigail walked almost quickly with a little bounce in her step, while Etheldrea kept a calm pace.

"So, John tells me you've been working your butt off. How's being a big fancy police constable working for you?"

"Fine. Great. It's not better than I expected, it's different, but it's a good different."

"Really? How so?"

"This might surprise you, but a couple years ago I had a huge ego. Especially around people I hated."

"Had?"

Etheldrea pushed her arm playfully, "Shut up. Anyway, I thought I'd get into the Yard absolutely no problem. That I'd advance faster than most people, that I'd get on Lestrade's team, that I'd be a- a hero."

Etheldrea shook her head, "God, I expected that to happen. How stupid is that?"

Abigail shrugged, "It was a dream. There's nothing stupid about that. What changed?"

"Everything. My dad died, I nearly died, I joined the Yard. I realized that there are a lot more people suited to this job than me. I don't know what John's told you, but I've witnessed a lot more than I thought I could handle."

Abigail bit her lip, "He's worried about you, you know. He thinks you might . . . revert."

"Why is this always a problem?" she asked defensively, "Maybe it's a good thing, sometimes."

"Not now. If you're hurting yourself-"

"I'm not. . . . Its other people- but I can handle them."

"I'm not saying you can't but purposely looking for fights isn't a good thing."

"I'm not purposefully looking for a fight, it's just a consequence of stopping criminals."

"But you're not a vigilante."

"No, but I am an off duty officer and it is my job to stop crime not matter what. Can we not talk about this now?"

Abigail looked like she wanted to continue, but she relented for the time being. They were silent for a little while until Etheldrea led them over to a park bench.

Etheldrea asked, "So how's Roland?"

Abigail perked up, "He's amazing! In between classes we have lunch together, and sometimes he brings me coffee in the mornings, and we have date nights every Friday. Also study dates, there's a lot of those. There's been a lot more paper work this semester then I was expecting. But he makes it so much easier, and he's always surprising me. He doesn't bring me flowers, I'm not sure if I really want flowers anymore, but he brings me chocolate and notebooks and key chains! Oh my god, he collects keychains and he has some of the coolest ever! He's just so- so lovely."

Etheldrea wrinkled her nose, "That sounds horrid."

"It sounds romantic, and you know what else? He has a brother. Daniel's his name. He's at Oxford and he's studying Archeology. He's like, super smart. I think you'd like him."

"No. And please don't tell me you've set up a blind date."

"I haven't, but I thought just maybe."

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure? Cause you know, girls our age are supposed to be out getting drunk at parties and hooking up and-"

"You aren't doing any of those things."

"Yeah, well, we're both classy ladies."

Etheldrea laughed, "Is that what you think of me? You, sure, but me?"

"Alright fine, you're more adventurous I'd say. Maybe that's why you keep getting into trouble all the time."

"Oh, seriously? Again? I thought we agreed to stop talking about this."

"No, you agreed to stop talking about it at the time. I sort of went with it. But seriously, we are worried about you. John says you're spending too much time on these cases then you are on yourself. Look at you! You look like you haven't slept in weeks, and you're thinner than the last time I saw you, and that's saying something because you were pretty thin then too."

Etheldrea turned away from her, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell I do. Shoulders tense, hair acting as a barrier between us, turned away as far as you can without turning your back, face getting red. I'm taking psychology and sociology classes, I know what the signs are."

"Stop talking. Please, I can't-"

"John's scared, Etheldrea. He's scared that someday you're going to be on a case and you might not come back. I'm scared too. And I bet Lestrade would be, and so would your Uncle, and Mrs. Hudson. Where are you going?"

Etheldrea had stood up and walked away. Abigail followed after her and tried to stop her. When she placed a hand on her best friends shoulder, it was rudely thrown off and she walked even faster. To make matters even worse, Etheldrea diverted through a patch of trees and scaled a fence, jumping down on the other side and hailing a cab.

Abigail didn't know what to do. She knew Etheldrea could only return home, but being there wouldn't make things any better. And John would be home from work until much later, and Etheldrea might not even go home just yet. Resisting the urge to cry, she dragged herself to the main road and took a cab back to the flat she shared with Roland and their roommates.

Etheldrea on the other hand was still fuming, even after having the cab drop her at a library. It was one place she could calm down, and also a place she needed to go to. She wasn't sure why she was so angry. She was doing her job even when she didn't have to, and she was doing more by proving a guilty man innocent. Her work was so important and she needed to do as much as she could to keep it in top quality. Why couldn't anyone understand that?

As she entered the library, breathing in the scent of paper and history, she calmed just a bit. The news archives were familiar and empty of most people besides a librarian. After retrieving the papers she needed, she sat and began to read through every article, searching for every mention of her father.

An hour later, with nearly nothing to help her and feeling exhausted and exasperated, she received some company. Mary sat across from her with a smile on her face and looked around at the papers she was going through.

"So how's it going? Have you found what you're looking for?" she asked.

Etheldrea frowned, "How did you find me?"

"Someone called John, told him you were here. I said I'd go."

"Abigail?"

"No, I can't remember his name. He sounded like a writing software."

Etheldrea groaned, "Uncle Mycroft."

"That's it."

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"It's a break. Also, John was starting to worry, you weren't answering your phone."

Etheldrea pulled out and saw she has three missed calls and a few texts.

"I silenced it. Sorry. I've just been researching. There's still a lot I have to go through, and there's so much to do." She added sadly, "I thought I would have this done by now."

"Why?"

"Well, it's been almost a year since my dad died and people still think he's a fraud: that he kidnapped those kids, that he committed all those crimes- and they're wrong. I know he would never harm an innocent person, especially kids, especially me."

Mary listened intently and then asked, "What was he like?"

"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. He was smarter than me, so very much and he could solve cases in a matter of minutes. If you met him, you never think that he'd be the fatherly type, but he was the very best. He'd help me when I needed it, and even when I thought I didn't need it. He always looked out for me, tried to make sure I was taken care of even when he wasn't around, and he loved me. We never really said; we never needed to, but I kind of wish we did because I would give anything to hear him say I love you again, to say anything again and- I'm sorry. We've only know each other a short while, this is way too much information from your boyfriends charge."

"Daughter."

"What?"

"He thinks of you as a daughter. Trust me, I can see it. Whenever he calls you, whenever he talks about you and he talks about you all the time, and whenever he's eager to get home it's so that he can see you. He loves you."

"I love him too. Maybe I should say that more. I should thank him more too. I should- there's a lot of things I should do. And a lot I shouldn't do. Maybe he wouldn't worry as much."

"He's always going to worry. That's what parents do."

"More like dads." Etheldrea mumbled to herself.

Tipping her head to the side, Mary asked, "Not moms?"

"Well, my mom isn't in the picture. Never really has been. I only had grandmothers."

Mary took her hand, "From now on, you have a mom to worry about you too. Or a mom figure, or a female figure if you want."

Etheldrea smiled, feeling the same care and protection from Mary as she did from John. Sure, it might take a little while for her to feel like she had a mom, but she could get there.

"Thank you, Mary."

Later that night, Etheldrea picked up her phone and went to her contacts. She chose the first name and hit Call. IT was picked up before the first ring finished.

"I'm sorry." Etheldrea said immediately, "I'm so sorry. I know you all worry, and I'm sorry I do that to you, and I'm sorry that I can't stop it. Sometimes I just feel like I'm not doing enough, and I think that if I fight harder, I work more that maybe just maybe I can live to my dad. I want to do everything I can to make him proud, but I'm putting my health aside to do that. It's not healthy, nothing about my current lifestyle is healthy and I- I need your help."

Abigail replied, "Of course! You're my best friend, I will always be there. DO you want meet up again tomorrow?"

"I'd love to."

AN: I'm so sorry that these chapters are taking forever! I've always tried to keep a schedule of one chapter a week, and I have failed that many times usually by a week or two, but to me this is just ridiculous. There's a ton of crap going between school, family, and friends, I've been in state of mild panic since the end of February, and above all I wish I had more time for this series and I know it's no excuse but I feel like I owe you guys an explanation. I'm going to continue to write, of course, but The Blessed Unrest chapters will probably be weeks apart until the end of May/middle of June. I'm so sorry. I sincerely appreciate every review, criticism, favorite, follow and everything else, and I love that you take the time out of your day to read the silly fantasy of a teenager who wanted Sherlock to have a daughter. I completely understand any anger you feel. Above everything, I hate disappointing you guys. I can only beg for your forgiveness.