Notes: Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed the last chapter it meant so much. I've had to split this chapter over two parts because it ended up being over 7000 words long and I didn't think any of you would want to read a chapter that long. Anyway here is the new chapter. Enjoy
Opening the door to the kitchen, Sam walked in to see her grandfather talking to Sherlock. Somehow, she had the feeling he would be there. The moment Sam stepped into the room both of the men looked up, her grandfather smiled while she just stood there and stared.
"Sam," Mr Holmes said, walking over to his granddaughter. "Is that you? No, it can't be?"
"It's me, Gramps." Sam chuckled.
"But you look so grown up surely that can't be my little granddaughter?" he teased.
Sam laughed again. "I promise it's me," she said, hugging him.
"Oh, so it is." Mr Holmes smiled, then kissed Sam on the top of her head. "Is everything well? Is school going okay?"
"School is going really well. I am loving it – well except the homework."
"Never was something you liked."
Sam moaned. "It's just so boring."
Mr Holmes laughed to himself at how Sam sounded so much like Sherlock when he was her age. "Where have I heard that before?" he said as he hugged her once more.
Sherlock was in the kitchen in his parents' home. If he had been asked that morning where he would be in the afternoon, the last place he would have picked would have been his parents' house. He leaned against one of the countertops as his father walked into the room.
"I think they will be here soon." Mr Holmes said to him. "Weren't you and your brother meant to come down together?"
"Something came up with his work which delayed him. Told me to go on ahead," lied the detective.
Mr Holmes saw through the lie but chose to ignore it. "It's going to be okay son."
"Okay?" Sherlock said as frustration built up in him. "I have so much anger in me right now that I don't know what to do and I'm worried that whatever comes out of my mouth will upset my own daughter."
"I can only say that you've got to give this time. For you and Sam. It's been so long since a father figure was in her life she is bound to be closed off. She was like that with me for a while."
Sherlock didn't get to ask his father what he meant by that because the door to the kitchen opened, and Sam walked in. He watched how his father went over and hugged his daughter and started to have a conversation with her and how natural it was on both parts. He could see just how comfortable they both were in each other's company. Sherlock couldn't help but feel jealous and wished he could interact with Sam just as easily.
"There are some cookies on the table, your grandmother just got them out of the oven before you arrived. Quick, grab a couple before she sees, other-wise, we will both be in trouble."
Sherlock watched his daughter walk to the table and grab one of the chocolate chip cookies off the plate his mother had left them on. "Let me guess, she will say I will spoil my dinner."
"It's almost as if you know her," Mr Holmes joked.
"I agree," Sherlock said surprising even himself as he spoke. "Eat them before Mycroft gets here overwise he won't leave any for anyone else."
Sam sniggered and briefly made eye contact with Sherlock. "Yes, that does sound like him." She picked up another cookie off the plate and handed it to him.
Sherlock accepted it and started to eat it just as his mother and Molly walked in the room. "Oh, Sherlock," the older woman said, "they were meant to be for later."
"Sorry Mummy." He smiled at her trying to put on his Mummy boy smile. "Your cookies are so good I couldn't resist."
"Well, no more, either of you," Mrs Holmes scolded as her eyes narrowed on Sam who was licking crumbs off her fingers. "I've got a nice family meal planned and I don't want you to spoil your dinner."
"Called it," Sam said under her breath for Sherlock and her grandpa to hear.
"What was that?" Mrs Holmes asked.
"Oh nothing dear," Mr Holmes said, covering for Sam. "I was wondering if we should all head into the sitting room for a nice cup of tea."
Molly walked over to Sam. "That sounds lovely."
"You lot go through and I'll bring everything in," Mrs Holmes instructed.
"Are you sure you don't want any help?" Molly asked.
"No dear, you've just spent the last few hours driving; go on through and relax. I'll be fine," Mrs Holmes said, shooing her away.
With that, everyone except Mrs Holmes walked into the living room. When Sherlock stepped into the room, he was surprised to see a lot of photos of Sam and Molly amongst ones of his own childhood.
He walked over to inspect them. In each one he could see tiny bits of himself when Sam was caught at a certain angle or the way she would look at a camera as if she was trying to work something out; he guessed this must be what he looked like when he was trying to deduce something for a case. Though he saw a lot of Molly too, there was no denying Sam was Molly's child.
The photos varied from a very tiny Sam in her school uniform which Sherlock thought must have been from her first day at school. Another was a professional school photo, Sam and Molly stood in the backyard next to a snowman they had just built. There was even one of Sam with Mycroft but that wasn't the most shocking thing about it. In it, Mycroft was actually smiling.
"He doesn't do that very often," Sam said as if she read his mind.
"What?" Sherlock said turning round to look at her, surprised.
"Smile," Sam said, gesturing to the picture. "Surprised world peace didn't occur when he did it."
A small smile appeared on Sherlock's face. She likes to make jokes about Mycroft, he thought to himself, that's something we have in common. He turned to look back at the pictures just as his mum walked in carrying a tray with a teapot and several mugs.
As the tray was sat down Mrs Holmes looked over to see what her younger son was doing. "Oh I am so glad you know about Sam now, so I don't have to take down the photos each time you come for a visit or have to make up some fake family member when I miss one."
"You did that?" asked a shocked Sherlock.
"Oh yes, numerous times, always some cousin three times removed, you never questioned it. Mostly deleted it from that head castle of yours."
Sam sniggered at the horrified look on Sherlock's face. "It's a mind palace."
"Head castle, mind palace same difference. Come sit down and have this tea I made for you."
Sherlock thought for a moment and decided to sit next to Sam. It was something so small, but he wanted to try and tread the waters lightly. He remembered what Mrs Hudson said about children feeling one way and acting another. Just because Sam spoke to him and offered him a cookie didn't mean she had forgiven him. In some ways, he wished she would act mad and be angry at him just so he knew where he stood with her.
As he sat down, he tried not to notice that Sam moved slightly closer to Molly. Sherlock wasn't sure if it was intentional or not. He didn't like that; it upset him but didn't want to let it show as not to draw attention to it.
"I have a couple more photo albums of pictures from Sam's childhood if you want to see?" Mrs Holmes asked her son.
He looked at Molly because he wasn't sure of what to say. She gave him a reassuring smile and a small nod of her head telling him that it was okay to look at them.
"Oh okay," Sherlock said to his mother.
The next thing Sherlock knew, his mother had gotten up out of her chair and walked over to a cupboard where she pulled out three photo albums. Sherlock felt nerves and excitement all at once, though his mind didn't tell his face as it looked like he had gone into buffering mode. He was about to see photos of Sam's life. They would help fill in the blanks and help him imagine what she would have been like at different ages. It will help me see apart of her life that I wasn't there for, he thought silently to himself.
The three different albums were dropped onto his lap. Putting two of them aside Sherlock picked up the one on top and looked inside. All throughout the beginning were pictures of Sam as a tiny baby in hospital, attached to wires and tubes. It scared him to see pictures like that.
"That was Sam when she was first born," Molly informed.
Sherlocked nodded, his way of saying that he was listening.
Sam looked over Sherlock's arm at the pictures. "I can't believe I was that small."
"I can," Molly smiled. "Sometimes I still see you in that way.
Throughout the photos, Sherlock saw his daughter grow up before his eyes. A sense of pride swelled within him at how far she had come. In one of them, he saw Sam on a walking frame looking up at the camera with a massive grin on her face.
"I remember that," Sam said, pointing to the picture. "It's what helped me learn to walk right?"
"Yes, and if I remember rightly you would always try and catch Mycroft's feet if you had the chance," Molly remembered.
Sam giggled. "Oh yes, I loved that game, it was so much fun."
"I didn't like it that much," Mycroft announced, walking into the room unexpectedly.
Everyone looked up to see him. Molly and Sam greeted him with a smile while Sherlock just sat there awkwardly with the pictures still on his lap.
"Ah, I see the family fun started without me, how delightful," Mycroft said in a tone that didn't convince anyone that he was glad to be there.
"You look well, Samantha," Mycroft said as he sat down opposite her as he poured himself a cup of tea.
Sam wrinkled her face in distaste at the name her uncle had just called her. "So do you, Uncle Mikey. Looks like the diet is working well, must mean you will be able to have one of Grandma's cakes if she makes one."
"Sam!" Molly warned.
Mycroft's face closely mimicked Sam's in the name that he had been called; he also ignored her comment. "I take it I haven't missed much."
"Not really, we were just showing Sherlock the photos from Sam's childhood." Mr Holmes informed his older son.
"Photos from my childhood?" Sam asked. "So are you implying that my childhood is over and that I am an adult?" she joked in a sarcastic tone.
"Childhood photos of years gone by then. Does that sound better?" Mycroft asked.
Sam shrugged "Not even in the slightest but I guess it will have to do."
Putting down the photo album on the coffee table, Sherlock picked up the next one on the pile. This one was filled with school pictures and ones of Sam in hospital showing her legs in casts. Seeing her in a hospital bed made her look even smaller. He then remembered that Molly said that Sam was going to have surgery again very soon. It made him wonder if she would be in casts this time. This would be something he would ask Molly and Sam later on when the rest of his family wasn't there.
Near to the back of the album, a photo caught his eye. It was of a sports day race, but it wasn't Sam running in the picture but Mycroft.
"What's this photo all about?" Sherlock asked Sam.
She turned to look at the photo and burst out laughing. "Oh that. Well, that photo, like all good ones, has a story behind it."
It was a sunny summer day in 2006. Molly was sat in a camping chair on a school field next to the Holmes parents watching the events of her daughter's sports day. Even Mycroft had been convinced to come. Somehow Molly thought all Sam needed to do was use her puppy eyes and Mycroft would do anything for her. They had all come to watch Sam compete in the sports day. As they watched kids running up the lanes on the field making sure they didn't drop the bean bag that was meant to be balanced on there head.
Molly watched as Sam finished last but with a smile on her face that she managed to keep the bean bag on her head. After being given a sticker Sam ran over to her mum to get a hug. "Mum, I didn't drop the bean bag and look, I got this sticker" she said, pointing to the one that had been put on her top.
"Well done Sammy you did so well. I am really proud of you," Molly told her daughter.
Through a megaphone, the headteacher announced the next race. "Now, would all the dads for year four like to step forwards for the Dad's race."
Sam frowned slightly; that was her year, but she had no dad to compete for her. "It's a shame dad is always working on a case and doesn't know about me. I'm sure he could have won."
Mycroft snorted slightly; he would pay a lot of money right now to see Sherlock compete in this race.
She felt her grandfather put his hand on her shoulder. "I would have entered for you Sam, but you know how my knee has been lately."
"It's okay Gramps," Sam said with a tear in her eye, "I understand."
"Mycroft could enter," Grandma Holmes suggested.
"What?" the slightly worried uncle questioned. "I couldn't possibly - look at me I'm in a suit. It's not made to run in."
"That's your own fault, it's sports day. On the letter I took home to mum it said to wear your P.E kit."
"But that was for you," Mycroft argued with his niece. "Not for me."
Sam turned on her puppy dog eyes and pursed her bottom lip. Molly had seen this look from Sam before when she was trying to get something she really wanted.
"I will most likely lose," Mycroft tried to reason.
"Doesn't mean you shouldn't try. That's what Mum always says. You never know unless you try."
"The last call for the dad race for Year Fours," the headteacher's voice came again
Mycroft looked at Sam one more time and relented. "Fine."
"Yes! Thank you, Uncle Mycroft, you're the best."
As Mycroft walked to the start line to join all the other dads, Sam turned to the rest of the family "I bet he will come last."
"Oh no, I know my boy. He might not be very athletic, but he won't come last. Holmes never come last."
"I just did," Sam pointed out.
"Oh yes, you did dear," Mrs Holmes said, feeling embarrassed. "But Mycroft won't."
"Want to put money on that?" Sam asked. "I have a fiver in my piggy bank at home."
"Okay, you're on." Grandma Holmes said, shaking Sam's hand.
Molly whispered to Mr Holmes "I really shouldn't allow her to gamble at this age."
"Don't worry about it, if Sam loses it will be a teaching moment on not to bet money because you are most likely going to lose it."
"On your marks," the voice of the head teacher came bringing their attention back to the race. "Get set, GO"
As the race started, Mycroft looked to be in the lead, that was until all of the dads gained speed and managed (with ease) to get ahead of him. The style that the British government ran could only be described in one fashion. It was very Mycroft. He looked awkward and uncomfortable all at once.
Sam loved it. Behind her, Molly was taking pictures while Mr Holmes laughed his head off. Beside him, his wife was yelling "Come on Mikey, you can go faster than that."
"Yeah, pretend there is cake at the end of the line," Sam added.
Almost as quickly as it started, not quick enough for some. Mycroft was the last to cross the finish line.
As he did, Sam looked up to her grandma with a cheeky grin on her face. "Can I have that fiver now?"
"You bet money that I'd come last?" asked a shocked Mycroft as Sam finished her story.
"Yeah, and I'm very proud you did because I got money out of it."
That should have been me. I would have won the race for Sam, thought Sherlock, feeling an unexpected flicker of jealousy.
"If I had been there, I would have won that race for you," Sherlock said out loud to Sam as he gave his brother a smirk that said he could do something better than him.
"I highly doubt that, brother mime."
Mrs Holmes could see that an argument was going to begin between her sons if she didn't try and break it up soon, she knew it was time to intervene. "Boys, I want no arguing on the first day. Mikey, why don't you come help me in the kitchen prepare dinner while Sherlock continues looking at the photos?"
Mycroft didn't really want to argue with his mother, so he decided to do as he was told and followed her into the kitchen. As Sherlock once again went back to looking at the pictures, he found himself becoming even more interested.
At another, he saw Sam and Mycroft at a football game. This gave him an idea that he could possibly take her to one as a bonding experience. "Oh, do you like football?"
Molly laughed. "Not in the slightest."
Sherlock looked back at the picture, confused ."So what's the picture for?"
Mr Holmes spoke, "Sam knew Mycroft would hate it, but she batted her eyelids and he took her. It was hell on earth for him, but Sam found it to be the funniest thing ever, seeing him be uncomfortable for ninety minutes."
"I was upset it didn't go into extra time, otherwise we would have been there longer," Sam said absentmindedly.
Sherlock felt really proud of his daughter, it made him laugh that they both enjoyed winding up Mycroft. Under his breath he muttered, "That's my girl."
A small smile appeared on Sam's face.
At dinner everyone sat around the table to eat all the lovely food that had been prepared. The atmosphere felt odd to Sherlock. He had never seen his parents and brother act so relaxed. It was almost as if they had been swapped with lookalike actors and he was a character in a play who had forgotten all of his lines. This was the thing with parenting that he was just starting to understand, just because it was going okay an hour ago doesn't mean something bad won't happen in the next ten minutes and for some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.
All around him stories were being swapped though he couldn't hear the words to any of them. He felt like he was an outsider in his own family. A nudge to his hand broke his train of thought. He looked in the direction it came to see that Molly was looking at him.
"Are you okay?" she whispered.
He cleared his throat and sat himself up just a bit straighter. "Err, yeah, just fine." Now he tried to tune back into the conversation as Sam started to speak.
"Gramps, do you remember the time we almost burnt down the kitchen?"
"How could I forget?"
"What caused that to happen?" Sherlock asked.
"Gramps and I decided to cook Grandma's special chocolate cake as a surprise for her when she went out with some of her friends to celebrate her birthday, but after we put it in the oven we went and watched a movie and got a little side-tracked."
"We remembered the cake was in there once the smoke alarm went off and we could smell burning," Mr Holmes added to the story.
"Grandma did get a surprise. Just not the one we planned for."
"It was the thought that counted," Mrs Holmes said to her. "So, I just wanted to talk about sleeping arrangements. Mikey, I take it you will be wanting your old room?"
"Yes, Mother, that would be preferred."
"Molly, I have set up one of the guest bedrooms for you."
"Thank you," Molly said.
"Sherlock, I have set up the other guest bedroom for you too."
"Why can't I stay in my old room?" Sherlock argued. "I've already put my bag in there."
"Because Sam is staying in there. It's where she always sleeps when she visits."
"I don't mind having the guest room." Sam offered.
Sherlock felt a bit ashamed of himself. "Oh no if it's where you always sleep then you should sleep there – the guest bedroom will be just fine."
"Thanks, Sherlock," Sam said.
After dinner, Sam excused herself and went upstairs because she wanted to be by herself for a little bit to listen to some music and to just think. Not long after she came up, there was a knock on the door. Pulling out her headphones and turning off the music she called out to the person at the door. "Come in."
To her surprise, Sherlock walked in carrying her bag with her clothes in. "Your mother asked me to bring this up for you."
"Thanks, Sherlock." Sam said, not looking at him while she fiddled with her headphone wires. Now that they were on their own, things felt very awkward.
Sherlock grabbed the desk chair and sat opposite her. "Sam, I just wanted to say, what I said to you last night was not the right thing and I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's not the first time I've been hurt, don't worry about it."
"I am sorry for how it made you feel. I really didn't think the words would make you feel that way. What I am trying to say is that I want to be in your life."
"I know you're angry at Mum and Mycroft and your parents for keeping us apart. I am too, you know I always read everything about you. All your cases, stuff in the newspaper, John's blog, even your own blog, though the bit about the tobacco ash was boring, I still read it because it was a connection to you."
"So, you're one of the only visitors to my blog," Sherlock joked.
Sam felt a smile come on her face. "I guess you could say that. All my friends at school think I am obsessed with you and that I fancy you," Sam said, pulling a face at that thought. "They don't know the truth at school about you being my dad, well at least the student's don't, but the teachers know just in case. I go by Mum's last name on the register. Mycroft sorted it all out. Not many people know I am Holmes, it's done to protect me."
"Though it didn't stop Moriarty finding out about you," Sherlock said, clenching his fists.
"I guess one always does slip through the net." Sam added, "I also almost came to Baker Street a couple of times to tell you who I was."
"Why didn't you?" Sherlock asked.
"I guess I built this image of you up in my head and I was scared I might have been rejected," Sam said honestly.
"I wish you had," Sherlock said.
It went quiet between the two once again and Sherlock could hear John's voice in his head telling him to say sorry once more. "Sam, I just want to apologise once more. It was not good of me and I will do better in the future."
Sam looked up at her father. "Sherlock, you might be a consulting detective, but I don't want a consulting dad."
"What do you want from me?" Sherlock asked.
"Someone who is there for me, who can look out for me and be there for me when I know no one else will. That if I text them in the morning there will definitely be a text back at the end of the day if not before."
"I can do that," Sherlock said.
"There is one more thing," Sam said, not looking at him.
"What's that, Sam?"
"I want someone who can love me. Like Mum and your family do."
Sherlock knew he cared about his daughter as he did for the rest of his family, but he wasn't sure how he could show this to her. "I can do all that." He gulped, he hoped Sam was more convinced by his words than himself.
"I know you'll try. I know you'll learn – we both will."
"Let's make a deal. I'll always honest with you and you'll always be honest with me," Sherlock said. "If I say something that hurts you, tell me to my face and how it made you feel, and I'll try not to keep anything from you. Deal?"
"Deal," Sam said, shaking his hand.
Sherlock saw Sam's phone on her bed. "Can I borrow that for a moment?
"Oh – err okay," Sam said as she unlocked it and handed it over.
Sherlock tapped on the screen for a few moments then handed it back. After doing so he got up out of the chair and put it back at the desk and walked to the door, picking up his own bag on the way, Before leaving the room he said one more thing. "You might want to come down in a minute. Mummy is insisting that we must all play board games so we can have family bonding time."
"Oh, okay," Sam said, "I'll be down in a bit".
Sherlock left the room and Sam was once again on her own. A moment later her phone buzzed.
Join my team and we can beat Mycroft – SH
Sam laughed. She liked the sound of that.
Notes: Thank you so much for reading this chapter it always means so much. If you'd like you can always leave a comment I loved the feedback.
I'm excited about tomorrow because I'm going to London to see a play The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. It will be only my second time going to London even though I live 64 miles from the city. So I wanted to get this chapter up before I head to bed early. I will hopefully have the second part of this chapter up next week. Possibly quicker depending on feedback
As always thanks to goodshipsherlollipop for beta reading this for me. Thank you :-)