Etheldrea said, "You didn't have to come John; I'm sure my presence at Tesco's was enough."
"Never. Talking with you is great."
"The same can be said about you. "
"Do you usually do this when you're mad? Take a walk?"
"Yes. I also read, but I'm not in the right sort to read at the moment."
"I would think not."
Etheldrea sighed, and prepared to give a spiel, "I'm sure you want to know more concerning the 'drugs bust'. Any questions you have, just ask away."
"How's school?"
She did a double take, and looked at him oddly, "I'm sorry?"
"How's school? You've been talking with that girl and her brother a lot, Abigail was it? Is she a good friend?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's been great. She's fantastic. She invited me to her birthday party next weekend."
"That's fantastic. What are you going to get her?"
"Honestly? I have no clue. I've known her for three weeks, four days, and I have no clue what to get her."
"Well, what does she like?"
"Clothes, make-up, jewelry, fashion, everything I detest."
"How are you two friends?"
"'Opposites attract', that's the saying right? Look at you and my dad."
"Well, what if we looked at a few shops? I'm sure there's some sort of shirt or necklace she'd like."
"Yes, but, this is a birthday. On birthdays, you should get people something that matters, something that shows them you know who they are. A shirt saying 'You're cuter when you don't talk' isn't exactly that kind of gift."
"Has she said anything? Or maybe pointed out something?"
Etheldrea racked her brain, thinking about all the time she had spent with Abigail Gray. So far nothing was coming to mind.
"Wait a minute, yes! A few weeks ago, I was at her house and I noticed a worn copy of an Elvis Presley biography lying on her book shelf. I also noticed several incarnations of Elvis Presley books, and I think one poster."
"That's a great place to start. Something Elvis. What about a necklace with his picture on it?"
"I've got a better idea. She likes writing too; not a huge amount, but she keeps a journal or a diary. I know a place that sells custom print journals."
"Sounds like you've got it all figured out."
"I couldn't have done without you, you gave me a push."
They continued walking, turning at random corners and streets. Soon they ended up at the park and sat down at a bench. Etheldrea played with her hands as John looked around, enjoying the day.
"I was six when he began using." She said.
"You don't need to tell me about this. His business is his business."
"Yes, but it partially involves me, and you should know. Besides, we might have more 'drug busts' in the future."
"Alright, if you're sure."
"I was aware of a lot more than your average child, I'm sure you can presume that. But, he was good at keeping it hidden. He would leave in the mornings or the afternoons and come back during the night. I never realized anything was wrong until I was seven.
Etheldrea stared at the door of her bedroom, waiting for her father to walk in like he usually would. Pirate Queen: Life of Grace O'Malley sat on her lap, patiently waiting to be finished. She glanced at the clock. 22:27. He was late.
Etheldrea lifted the covers of her bed spread and climbed out. She tip-toed into the living room where Mrs. Hudson sat watching telly.
"Mrs. Hudson, did daddy call you?"
The woman turned with a sad smile, "No dear, but I'm sure he'll be her-"
The front door opened, and Sherlock walked in. At first glance, everything seemed fine, but Etheldrea felt a prickle on her back like something was wrong.
She ran to her dad and wrapped her arms around his legs.
"Etheldrea, why aren't you sleeping?"
"I was waiting for you. You always read to me before I go to sleep, remember daddy?"
He grabbed Etheldrea and lifted her up that she rested on his hip.
"Ah, of course, how could I be so silly?"
Etheldrea giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said.
"Just this once dear, I'm not a babysitter."
"Didn't she say that last time?" Etheldrea whispered.
"Shh."
They wished Mrs. Hudson goodnight, and then Sherlock brought her back to bed. Sherlock lay on the bed with Etheldrea leaning on his chest and an arm wrapped around her to hold the book. Before he began reading, Etheldrea looked up and noticed something odd.
"Daddy, why are your eyes red?" she asked.
Sherlock shook his head, "It's nothing to worry about. Now, where were we?"
That was the first time he came home still high. He did it loads of times, and sometimes that was all I could see, his eyes a burning red. Then there were times when he just wasn't himself. It scared me so much. Then one day out of the blue, he sat me down and explained that he would be going away for a while. Only a few months, and I could visit him on weekends. He got better after that, and I realize now it was a rehab."
"Where did you stay? While he was gone?"
"With Uncle Mycroft, well, with one of his hired nannies. I'd see him from time to time, but I was always with some lady."
"It sounds like you went through a lot of them."
"Oh yeah. I could give the children form Nanny McPhee a run for their money. Anthea was the only one who could control me, and she wasn't even a nanny. Anyway, ever since, it hasn't exactly been easy. He's not allowed any type of drug, even cigarettes, Lestrade knows this. Sometimes, I catch him with a package, and I make him flush it. I've never caught him with anything beyond that though."
"What caused him to get help?"
"I don't know, I never asked."
After that, John changed the subject, and the two chatted for half an hour. It was near five when the two began walking back to Baker Street. Upon arriving, Etheldrea went straight to her room. John wandered into the living room where Sherlock sat unmoved.
John took a seat opposite Sherlock, and grabbed the remote.
"I assume Etheldrea told you about my history."
"What she knows of it."
"She doesn't know why I stopped, does she?"
"No, not at all."
"Because of her."
"You stopped because of her?"
"Yes. My brother threatened to take her away. Obviously I wasn't going to let that happen."
"You care a lot for her."
It wasn't a question, but Sherlock answered anyway.
"Of course."
"You know, she told me why she hasn't been helping."
"She did?"
"Yes, earlier, while we were at Tesco's. She thinks- How often do either of you get hurt?"
Sherlock was silent, contemplating for a few moments, "With cases from Scotland yard, not very often."
"But cases from outside the Yard?"
"A rather large amount. That's the thing about criminals; most of them will do anything to stop from getting caught."
"Well, Etheldrea thinks it's her fault that you two get hurt."
"Why would she think that? More often than not, it's the criminal's fault."
"Listen, I've not an expert, but I had some similar experiences with Harry growing up. I think you should talk to her, and let her know it's not her fault."
Sherlock didn't say anything and John thought maybe he was being ignored. That is, until the detective hopped from his chair and strode towards his daughter's room. Curious, John stood and followed quietly to see the outcome. He stood outside the door, peeking in past the frame.
Etheldrea sat on her bed with a book. Sherlock grabbed her nearby chair and pulled it up next to her.
Sherlock told her "There's been a bit of a rift in the case."
"Case, what cas- Oh, right, the whole lying to Lestrade thing. That's why he pulled a drugs bust."
"Yes, there's been a rift, and I need your help."
"Why? What's going on?" she asked, sitting up.
"The manager was found dead, and there were no signs of the diamonds."
"How was he murdered?"
"Stabbed, with a sword."
"So there's a sword waving diamond thief on the loose. This shouldn't be that hard, start by look into sword registries. You hardly need my help, ask John." She said before turning back to her book.
"But I need you. Regardless of the dan- we are a team, remember?"
John watched as Etheldrea looked up, and slowly began to smile. There was a spark in her eyes that had been missing before. It seemed that everything she worried about was put behind her.
"What do you need?"