Chapter 13: Family
I walked in the door and sat in the chair next to it pouting. He was a detective. Wasn't eve's dropping what they did? My father looked slightly annoyed as he turned his attention back to the packet of papers which he held in his hands. Mycroft, my Uncle, on the other hand kept his gaze fixed on me. I watched as his eyes took in my appearance. I could not however read what he was thinking in that squinting face of his. It made me feel nervous, the way that he was looking me over, and for some reason, feeling nervous made me angry. I'd always wanted a family. This wasn't the way I had expected that it would go down. My father walked slowly to stand by the fireplace, still looking through the papers. I stared into my Uncles eyes and mine narrowed. I saw an expression of bemusement flash across my uncle's face and I lost it.
"Hell-o!" I yelled, stamping my foot. "Aren't you going to say something? Hi? Or anything?" I asked storming over to stand in front of the elder Holmes'. My father briefly glanced up from his papers at me and then returned his gaze. Uncle Mycroft looked to my father eyebrows raised. Both men remained silent. I huffed and stormed over to the beat up couch, throwing myself onto it in a way that my mother would have scolded me for.
"Fine then!" I shouted grumpily. "Don't talk to me. You're probably boring anyway." I huffed again and turned to where my back was facing them and my face was towards the couch cushion.
"Mycroft," I heard my father say. "I'm afraid that I'm much too busy right now to take on this case. Isn't there someone else in your vast pool of government who could handle it?" He said with an air of boredom. I heard him hand the papers back to his brother.
"Brother mine, this is a matter of national security." I heard my Uncle Mycroft speak for the first time. He sounded like he thought he was royalty himself. "I would not be here if I had another option. I agree this may not have happened at an opportune moment," he paused and I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck. "However, I must press you into doing this. If not, then mayhap I will just have to call mummy and let her know about your new house guest you have accommodated. Then you know that you will be chomping at the bit to get away." There was an edge of steel in his voice and I didn't like it.
I sat up, and glowered at the pair. "I'm not a house guest!" I shouted at them. Then something dawned on me. "Mummy?" I said quietly to myself. "Wait. I have a grandma?" I asked my foul mood slowly being replaced with one of excitement.
Sherlock glared at Mycroft for a moment and said "Yes. You have both a grandmum and a granddad. Both of whom have absolutely nothing to do with this case, Mycroft." He said the edge of steel present in his voice as well.
"When do I get to meet them?" I asked. When neither of the men answered me, I asked again. "Hello? I'm right here. When do I get to meet them?" When neither of them looked at me still I jumped up on the couch, something which surely would have caught my mother's attention. It did not work however to gain my father or uncles. They were in some kind of quiet battle, fiercely whispering back and forth.
I was mad. I was partially scared. I wanted to know who this new family was, but I didn't want it to be like this. I didn't like being ignored. I looked down at the coffee table and an old raggedy baseball caught my eye. I picked it up; fingering it in my hand then looked at the two men who continued to fight, oblivious of me. I held back my arm and threw the baseball as hard as could towards the fireplace behind the arguing brothers.
I was surprised when my father's hand reached up and caught the ball before it hit the mantle of the fireplace, never looking away from his brother's face. I froze. I saw my father blink, his face going blank. He quietly walked to where I was standing on the couch. I sat down quickly and pressed against the back of the couch, not knowing what to expect.
He placed the baseball down gently in the spot which I had retrieved it from. I stared at him in agonizing silence, wishing he would say something, but also afraid of what he would say. Instead he turned around and faced my uncle again.
Mycroft glanced at me and then back to his younger brother, sighed and picked up the packet of papers from where they had been deposited on a table. "Call me if you change your mind about the case." He said, walking to the door with his long black umbrella in hand. He opened the door and stepped out, looking back just long enough to say "Good luck, brother mine," before he shut the door behind him.
And then it was silent. It was once again only my father and I. I knew I had been behaving horribly. I knew my mother would have been furious. I knew that I deserved every punishment in the book. But this mysterious man, my father, I knew very little of. I had no idea what to expect.
I felt like the silence lasted forever. I wondered if he would ever talk to me again. I wrestled with whether I wanted him to talk to me or not.
Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take him looking at me, looking at me as if I was some case of his. I couldn't handle not knowing when I would see my mother again. I couldn't handle that she had left with me a strange man, blood relative or not. I couldn't handle that when I had finally met family, it hadn't been like in the movies. I couldn't handle that I was stuck here with this un-talking, staring man. I jumped off of the couch and made a run for the door. He must have known what I was going to do though as he beat me there.
"Alexandria," He said softly, reaching out for my arm.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed at him and ran down the hall to the bedroom, jumped on the messy bed and hid under the covers. "I want my mummy!" I yelled again and broke into a sob. I cried and cried until I had fallen asleep.