A Study in Family
Chapter 3: Mr. Miller
When Jackson woke up it was still too early. The sun wasn't even out yet. He blinked in confusion when he realized that he was in his sleeping bag. Looking around the room he noticed that everyone was asleep but only two other places were empty. Michael and Sammy.
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stood up as quietly as he could. The last thing he wanted was to rob these kids out of their much needed sleep. The Miller's was the first place he'd been sent to but that wasn't the case with some of the rest. And Mr. Miller himself isn't a walk in the park.
He remembered his mother telling him medical reasons why sleep was important. He also remembered asking her what were some reasons why people didn't sleep. She'd smile at him and told him that sometimes little kids like him had too much energy, but that sleep was needed because kids did most of their growing while asleep.
He pouted and said that there had to be more reasons. His mother said that there were many, and that they all depended on the person. Sometimes they had too much on their mind. Sometimes it was because they had too much caffeine in their systems or something similar of the sort. And a whole bunch of other medical reasons he didn't understand.
But he knew that sleep was important. It gave you energy and with all the chores they had to do and lessons they had to learn, Jackson didn't want his friends to lose an ounce of sleep.
He was leaving the room to go and try to find the other two and see if he could help in whatever they're doing when he passes Anna. In her sleep her teddy bear that Sammy had gotten her on one of their adventures together had moved a ways off. Jackson placed it near Anna and she instantly hugged it and snuggled to it. Jackson smiled as he tucked Anna and her bear under her blanket.
He did his best to remain quiet until he reached the attic. Michael was in there looking at some papers. He seemed very invested in them and Jackson didn't want to interrupt him. Looking around he saw that the rest of the attic was empty and the window's were closed and locked. If Sammy or anyone else was out, all of the windows would be unlocked.
He remembered his lessons and concentrated on his hearing since it was a bit dark and he couldn't trust his eyes. He heard some faint sounds coming from downstairs and knew it had to be Sammy. Mr. and Mrs. Miller were never awake at this hour. Mr. Miller because all of the liquor he consumed and Mrs. Miller because even she is afraid of Mr. Miller.
She was a victim just like them and a part of Jackson wanted to feel sorry for her, but ever since the day he'd seen Mr. Miller hit Sammy, he couldn't. He knew she might be scared and he doesn't know what she went through before all of them, but she still did nothing. And doing nothing will get nothing. She was nothing like Sammy who was doing everything to get all of them to a good home.
Making his way into the kitchen he paused by every possible hiding place and made sure the coast was clear before going to the next. Every time listening for the ever present snores of their captor. When he reached the threshold of the kitchen he saw Sammy at the cabinets. That was where Mr. Miller kept all of his drinks. From his hiding place he saw Sammy holding a small bottle and using an eye dropper to put whatever was in that bottle into the flash Mr. Miller would use the next day.
The look Sammy had as she closed the bottle and looked at it made Jackson think he wasn't suppose to witness this. He does his best to go back to his sleeping bag and tries to fall asleep but it's useless. He wonders what they were doing.
A while later he hears footsteps and whispering.
"How much longer will it take?" Michael asked.
"I don't know..." Sammy replied.
"What is it?" Michael asked.
"Nothing," Sammy replied quickly.
"None of that. We're a team remember?" Michael's voice was soft and gentle. But there was no response from Sammy so Michael asked gently, "Sammy? What did you see?" by see Jackson thinks he means deduce.
"Mrs. Miller..." Sammy answered.
"What about her?" from their voices they seemed to have moved to Michael's sleeping bag near the window.
"She was the typical abusers wife. Just another wall flower. I didn't think much of her when planning," Sammy replied.
"Does this change things?" Michael asked.
It took a moment for Sammy to reply, "Maybe. She's showing signs of leaving. Miller's very controlling. Having something that he thinks belongs to him by right leave like that...it could trigger something."
"Can you guess what?" Michael asked.
"...Yes, but I don't like any of the options." Sam replied.
"Then what are our options?" Michael asked.
Again there was a pause from Sammy and Jackson heard some rummaging, "From now on I think it's best that we each have an eye on Miller at all times. It could be nothing but better safe than sorry."
"What will this do?"
"It'll speed up the process."
"All this if Mrs. Miller escapes her abusing husband. Is it bad that I want her torture to continue so all of us have a chance to escape unharmed?" Michael asked harshly, not at Sammy, but at the situation.
"When choosing the lesser of two evils, don't forget we're still choosing evil," was Sammy's response. The way her voice sounded let Jackson know there was something deeper going on. Michael sighed. So he knew what Sammy was talking about.
"Heh, yeah. The path to hell is paved with good intentions. Isn't that how it is?" Michael asked.
"If you believe in that. Come on it's late. We better get some rest," Sammy said.
"Sam...Sammy look at me," Jackson couldn't see what was going on, "Everything is going to be alright. You're brilliant and you're going to get us all out of this hell hole. We're going to go to good families and somehow, in the end, we'll find each other again and be best friends until we're old and grey. I promise."
"That's a nice sentiment. It really is," Sammy deadpanned.
"It's a promise Sammy."
"It's Sam. And I'm going to sleep."
Michael continued like he hadn't heard her, "It'll be great. We'll be neighbors. Somewhere in the suburbs. Our backyards will be connected by a huge swimming pool. We'll go to the zoo and see the lions every Sunday. We'll go the planetarium every Thursday. And on Friday's we'll camp out. If not everyone then just us. Me and you...and our little brothers. We'll be a happy family."
The only noise was Sam getting into her sleeping bag. Jackson thought that was the end of the conversation before Sammy answered, "Jack likes the penguins. I do too. They're natures rules breakers. Birds that swim, not fly."
Michael chuckled and said, "Good night Sammy."
"It's Sam...Night."
.:~*~:.
It was a quiet night at 221B when Harry's phone call came in. John was spread out on the couch with his laptop typing away their most recent case while Sherlock was in the kitchen doing some sort of chemical experiments that involved frog lungs.
When his mobile rung it took a moment for John to find it but when he answered it he had to pull it away from his ear. Harry was yelling and for a moment John panicked before he realized that Harry's yells were of excitement, not of danger.
"Harry...Harry! Slow down I can't understand what you're saying!" John cried into the phone, which brought Sherlock in from the kitchen.
"What's going on?" Sherlock asked.
John shrugged in a way to tell the consulting detective that he didn't know yet. Before John could try again Sherlock snatched the mobile and spoke into it, "Harriet. What's the matter?"
There was a pause and John assumed that Harriet was telling Sherlock what the heck was going on.
"Mhmm...alright thank you. Mycroft will most likely show up first thing in the morning and take you to a check up," there was a pause in which John assumed Harry was talking, "I have done my research and I know there will be nothing new other than that to report, but you're still going," there was another pause as Harry said something, "Because it's not just the fetus's health development that's a factor here. Yours is too. I know you're trying to keep healthy but simply eating and drinking non-alcoholic beverages isn't going to be enough. You'll need vitamins and specific foods. Hence the appointment tomorrow which Mycroft has already made to make sure you're up to speed...yes yes I'll tell him...yes...yes I'm an ass I know...okay...oh and Harriet...thank you," quickly after uttering those whispered words Sherlock hangs up.
By now John is on his feet and looking expectantly at Sherlock.
Sherlock stands there a for a few minutes and something happens that John's never seen before. It's similar to how John can almost see the wheels turning in Sherlock's mind when he's deducing something. It was like that in the sense that Sherlock's mind was working at high speed but it seemed to be having trouble processing the information. Which was new.
"Sherlock?"
"That was Harriet," Sherlock replied.
"Yes I know that was my sister. I was the one who answered the phone. What did she want?" John asked.
Sherlock opened and closed his mouth a few times, seemingly lost for words. Another new moment to add to his own memory place(not palace, but his own little place)
"It worked..." Sherlock whispered.
"What worked?" John asked.
Suddenly the numb like Sherlock breaks out into a huge smile and hugs John and twirls him around. "It worked John! It worked!"
"What? What worked?" John repeated.
"Harriet's pregnant John! We're going to be parents!" Sherlock cried. Once his brain caught up with the information he had that cloud 9 feeling again. It was hard to describe but the best he can offer is this. He had his doubts about John staying with him. Once they married some of those doubts left, but there were still some. In the back of his mind when he didn't have a case or solve or a puzzle to do, or John wasn't within grabbing distance, his blasted mind would go to a dark place.
He would stand by the window and play his violin and see plain average women pass by that could make his John happier than he could merely with one little fact. They'd be able to give him admittedly good looking children(the right ones only though). They would fulfill John internal subconscious desire to become a father and take John away for it was something that was physically impossible for himself to do, but if he could do it, then he would, but he couldn't.
When John agreed those weeks back to have a family with him he got this feeling that was hard to describe. It was like the love for John but different. And a good different too. More of those evil doubts disappeared.
But they weren't parents yet. And with each treatment they did(which wasn't as many as there could have been. Harry did really take soon) hope would rise and then die the next day. He knew this process needed patience but he didn't want to be patient. He wanted to be a family with John!
And now...oh now!
"Parents...? Parents? PARENTS!" John yelled as he hugged Sherlock back tightly. "Oh god Harry's pregnant! I...I need to call mum and dad and explain things, we need to clean my room upstairs and make it into a nursery. We need to go and buy things. Clothes, a crib, nappies, toys, books, baby clippers, wipes, blankets, a pram and a pushchair-"
"John...John! Relax...please," Sherlock said calmly.
"Relax? Sherlock we have a baby on the way and there are many things we need to do! We need to look up schools and doctors and daycare, and oh lord Uni! We may even need a nanny! What about money? There's only so many hours I can work and only so many cases you can do and that's before the baby arrives. Those hours will be cut back for the both of us!"
"John! Like I said...relax. Everything is covered," Sherlock said easily and sat down in his chair and picked up his violin and plucked at the strings.
John sat in his chair and looked skeptical. "Everything is...covered? What do you mean by that?"
"I mean you don't have to worry about it. Everything you mentioned and missed have been taken care of. All we really need to do is clean up the flat...decided what to do with my equipment, and paint your old room."
"And...how is the rest covered? We barely make the rent," John said.
Sherlock made a face before he replied, "Before I told you...or Harriet...I was doing research on everything. Of course Mycroft's overly large nose doesn't know how to stay out of people's business and found out what I was up to. I still find it a bit sickening at how...pleased, he was to find out I was...settling down, as he put it. Up until now his controlling factor has been a thorn in my side but now it's actually an advantage. As for doctors, schools, and any other formal matters as such Mycroft will pull strings to make sure our child will have nothing but the best."
"Okay...I can see how that covers that. But I doubt Mycroft's bosses will be please to know he's spending government money on nappies," John said though he wouldn't really put it passed the older Holmes brother.
"And he isn't...mummy is," Sherlock looked down at his lap with a faint blush adoring his face.
"E-excuse me?" John asked. He must have heard wrong.
Sherlock sighed, "When I 'allowed' Mycroft to handle all of the formal paper work and tracking down the best doctors he thought it was...nice, of him to have mentions something to mummy. So while you were in Surgery I had to take a visit to the Holmes estate and confirm that yes...I was married, and that yes, you an I were planning on becoming parents. Of course that led mummy to have Mycroft give her all of our information. So she knows our economic situation and has already bought us everything we'll need. She's...um, she's very...ecstatic about actually...getting a grandchild.
"With the way I was and how busy Mycroft is she had accepted long ago that it was never meant to be." Sherlock finished a bit awkwardly. He was sure John would laugh at him but when he looked up at his husband he did find a smile, but it was tender and loving.
"And am I ever going to meet the famous mummy Holmes?" John asked in a teasing manner that always made Sherlock smile.
"She'll be present for the first ultrasound," Sherlock answered.
.:~*~:.
Jackson woke up the next day and tried to act as normal as possible. He didn't know how to describe what he was feeling.
A part of him was a bit unsettled by the conversation he heard last night and had him worried. Another part though, a bigger part, told him to forget it. Sammy was keeping to her promise of taking him with her. That's what mattered.
Besides...Mr. Miller was an evil man. Did it really matter if something happened to him? He lived his life drunk and filled his lungs up with smoke and just sat in front of the telly while the children he was suppose to be taking care of starved and worked like slaves.
"Jack."
He snapped out of his thoughts when Sammy called out to him. "Yeah?"
"Come help me in the backyard?" Sammy asked while holding some garden equipment. Jack just nodded.
They worked in silence while weeding the garden. Every once in a while Jack would glance at Sammy. He really wanted to ask about last night.
"You can ask me anything and I'll answer honestly. Whether you like the answer is something I can't guarantee," Sammy said without looking up from her work.
"What are you and Michael planning? If I'm going with you I think I should know what you're planning." Jackson said and he stuck the trowel into the dirt and looked expectantly at Sammy.
"I told you before on your first night here...I plan to ruin him," Sammy replied coolly.
Jackson scrunched up his face and asked, "How exactly do you plan to do that?"
"This place...think of it as a body. A body of evil. With Miller as the head," Sammy sighed and struck her own trowel into the dirt as well and looked Jackson right in the eyes and continued, "Cut off the head and the body will follow."
They were engulfed in silence once more as Jackson let it sink in as to what Sammy was talking about. When Sammy saw that it finally hit him she continued, "Stan said that I have been to over twenty homes...it's true. Sometimes I do something to get me out of there, but there have been times when it's the parents that send me away. They say that there's something wrong with me.
"My deducing skills scare people. The more religious freaks think I'm possessed by a demon. They thought I had sold my soul in exchange for the curse to see into peoples minds. Other people were uncomfortable at how things like death and murder don't seem to bother me like they did with other children and how...logical it was for my age. It scared them at how fascinated I was with science and what some of my ideas were. They looked at me weird because I collected bugs for experiments and where aghast when it seemed I was ready to move on to bigger animals." Sammy's face went from expressionless to an evil smirk, "You should have seen how those stupid little non-foster kids obviously tried to keep their puppies and kitties away from me. Crying bloody murder when I came into the classrooms or set foot on the playgrounds..."
Sammy stood up and dusted herself off. She looked at Jackson in the eyes once more and said, "I'll give you the chance to think things over. If you decide you want to go with one of the others to a good home I'll understand. The last family I lived with before the Millers said I was a sociopath. They may be right. I know how to respond in society properly. I know the answers that people expect. I know how to fit in...but sometimes...sometimes I think those responses are stupid. And irrelevant and useless. Just like a lot of the people around me. So maybe I am a sociopath. Who'd want to be friends with one, right? We're done here. I have to help Michael with the gutters. Can you go help Gabe and Stan inside? I think they have to clean behind the bookshelf today."
She didn't give him time to reply as she disappeared to the front of the house. Jackson visibly deflated. He then stood up and made his way inside and helped wherever he could. All the while ignoring any attempts at conversation and thinking about Sammy and what she said.
Later that night after everyone got into bed Jackson went up to the roof and waited. He knew she'd come check on him and it only took twenty minutes before she did. It only proved his point that he'd realized earlier. She sat next to him and played her harmonica for a while before he put it away.
"Make a decision?" she asked.
"Yes," Jackson said.
"And?"
"You're not a sociopath," Jackson said as it was the easiest thing in the world.
"And how do you know that?" Sam asked.
"My mom was a nurse remember?" Jackson replied.
"Doesn't mean you were," Sam answered back.
"I asked Jason what it meant and when he told me I knew that wasn't what you were. You care Sammy. You care about all of us. If you were a sociopath you would have left without teaching us all these survival skills. You would have left without caring what happened to us afterwards and not spend hours hacking and breaking into the library to get us into good homes. The people you were with were just too stupid to understand you. You're super smart, they probably were embarrassed about it and wanted to make you feel bad. That's why they called you all those horrible names."
"...You really believe that?" Sam asked quietly.
"I do." Jackson answered with conviction. "I believe you're the smartest person I have ever met and will ever meet. I believe it's because of you that my life is going to be an awesome adventure. I believe that I'm the luckiest kid in the world to have a big sister like you."
Sammy smiled and hugged him. "Jackson Wolfe...once we leave here you will the most important person in my life. My little brother, my best friend."
"Best friends!" Jackson said with a smile and held out his pinky. Sammy interlocked hers with his and they made a promise to be best friends.
.:~*~:.
"So it's really happening? Sherlock Holmes is becoming a father?" Lestrade asked as he walked into 221B a few days after they received word that Harry was pregnant.
At the moment John and Sherlock were putting together the crib that Mycroft's men sent over the day before.
"What? No lackies sniffing your tail with another fake drug bust?" Sherlock hissed sarcastically without looking up from his work.
"He's not angry at you. He's just upset because he can't figure how to put this together," John offered Lestrade an apologetic smile.
"I'm not angry! This is simple and I would have finished it if all the pieces had come with it," Sherlock snapped.
"It did came with all the pieces, you just said that some of them were irrelevant," John said and rolled his eyes.
"They were!" Sherlock says as he picks up a screwdriver and loops up momentarily, "Lestrade? What are you still doing here? Don't you have a job?"
"Sherlock!"
"It's fine John. I've been calling your mobiles for some time but no answer. Before I can could even see if I could set up a fake drug bust your brother called me and told me everything. I admit he had to tell me five time before I could register what he said. You two really are going to the next step?" Lestrade asked.
"Yes. The baby is already on it's way...unfortunately the deliveries are unpredictable so the best estimate I can give is roughly about eight months or so. We'll have to see the baby's developments themselves before we can have a somewhat accurate date." Sherlock rambled.
"He's really taken then reins on this huh?" Lestrade asked John.
The blonde shrugged and replied, "Since the moment he considered the baby as relevant, the rest just followed suit."
"Ah," Lestrade said.
"Seriously Lestrade do you have a case for me or what? Your presence here is unwanted," Sherlock said.
"Sherlock!"
"What? These are the last few months of us before we have to be responsible for another very dependable life. I don't want to share you with irrelevant matter such as mindless chitchat," Sherlock replied and John sighed.
"It's alright John. I just need some advice and I'll be on my way," Lestrade said.
"Advice?" John echoed.
"Get rid of Anderson," Sherlock answered quickly.
Lestrade ignored him and said, "A friend of mine that works in child services asked me for a personal favor. I know you don't work with kid cases Sherlock and I'm not asking you to. I just need your advice. You take the laws into your own hands and catch the true bad guy...that's what you do. Foster parents are tricky, which is why I stay away from those cases as much as I can. How would I go about getting evidence on a bad guy who extorts money from the government by using these kid's situation?"
Sherlock's face was passive as he thought things over. Slowly he rose to his feet and turned to the DI. "Who is it your friend wants put behind bars?"
"George Miller."
.:~*~:.
A few days later they had all woken up like usual and did their chores. Sammy still hadn't told Jackson what she and Michael were planning but it didn't seem to matter anymore. Sammy answered any of his questions. Helped him see easier methods of doing things. Sammy claimed, "It's not lazy, it's working smart. It's better than working hard."
On this certain day he and Sammy were working together to move boxes from the kitchen and living room to the cellar. While they were working on said task Mr. Miller storms into the kitchen. Mostly sober but completely angry.
Sammy immediately stands in front of Jackson and whispers to him, "If you see your chance, run and get Michael."
All Jackson would do was nod.
"Where the hell is she?" Mr. Miller hissed.
Sammy's eyes widened a bit as she realized that happened. Mrs. Miller had left. She mentally cursed. She was so focused on the rest of the kids these last few days and observing Mr. Miller's movements carefully that she wasn't paying too much attention to Mrs. Miller like she should have.
All the possibilities that Mr. Miller would act on came at full force but she forced herself to stay calm.
"Who?" Sammy asked.
"Don't play dumb! I know you know! Where the hell is my bitch of a wife?" Mr. Miller demanded.
"I don't know. We've been doing our chores like we're supposed to," Sammy answered evenly. Right now her main priority is to make sure that Jackson doesn't get hurt.
Mr. Miller took a threatening step forward and hissed, "Don't think I'm stupid! You think I don't know what you're all about? You're nothing but filth! The offspring of a slut and a drunk most likely! Here I am keeping you safe and warm from the cold world. Keeping you from becoming like your mother! Not just you! The lot of you!" he said as he glared at Jackson. Sam made sure that Jackson was completely blocked from view. Then Mr. Miller spit to the side, "You know what? Good riddance of that bitches disappearance! You know girly...you've always been far too pretty."
Mr. Miller stalked over and grabbed Sammy by the arm and began to drag her to the basement. Jackson wanted to yell by Sammy gave him a pointed look and he ran off after Michael.
In the basement Mr. Miller threw Sammy roughly and she landed on her bottom but quickly got up to see him close the door and lock it. As he approached her she took out a syringe and tried to stab him with it but he caught her wrist and took the syringe.
"What's this then? Were you planning on poisoning me?" he asked in mocking.
"There's enough in you already," Sammy glared at him.
He let the syringe drop and then he stomped on it, "No ones comin to save ya princess. Who would?"
Sammy looked around and her mind began to plan. When she finished inspecting the room she turned back to Mr. Miller and said in a far too cold voice for a child to have, "You've done absolutely nothing worthy to earn that pathetic arrogance you've got. It'll be your down fall."
"Hahahaha! That so?"
"Yes. Humans...so very limited in healing and curing, but just about everything can kill one," Sammy replied.
Mr. Miller guffawed, "You planning on killing me?"
"You attacked me first. This isn't murder. It's self defense and for the greater good. You're the devil incarnated!" Sammy cried.
Mr. Miller smirked, "And you're just another voiceless victim. A nameless corpse they'll find dumped in the forest when I'm through with you."
Sammy ran deeper into the basement and on her way she closed off the old fashioned chimney. She never knew why one was down there but she wasn't going to question it if it was going to help her. Her mind made a quick guess that this old fashioned housed used it to keep the higher levels warm. As she moved to hide from her attacker smoke began to fill the room. It made it hard to breath for the both of them.
Sammy then heard a whistle. She followed it to a window just small enough for her to crawl through. But it was too tall and there was nothing there for her climb. The window opened and Michael was there with Jackson. He threw in a rope and hissed, "Come on!"
She was half way through when Mr. Miller grabbed her leg and started to pull, "Oh no you don't!"
"AH!" Sammy yelled as she was pulled all the way back and she dropped harshly on the floor.
"Now then...a-ah!" Mr. Miller cried as he grabbed at his chest and fell to the ground.
"Sammy! Hurry!" Jackson cried.
Sammy cough through the smoke that was becoming very thick and made things hard to see. She followed their voices and used the rope to pull herself up and Michael and Jackson helped pull her up the rest of the way.
In the open air she coughed for a full half a minute before she could speak. "You spiked him." she said to Michael.
"I happened to look out the window just in time to see Mrs. Miller leave, suitcase in hand." Michael replied evenly.
Jackson looked between the two of them, "What now?"
Sammy and Michael looked at the house and then at each other. Then Michael said to Sammy, "You go and do as we planned. I'll get the kids and explain everything."
"Alright. Jackson, go get your things and then meet me in Miller's room," Sammy said.
They all entered the house and went in different directions. Sammy went to the kitchen first and then to the Miller's bedroom. Jackson went to get his duffel and then went to meet Sammy. Michael gathered the kids and they got their things as well and then went outside.
Michael and Jason gave the kids their respected paperwork and a rundown about what was about to happen. They watched the house from the front yard and waited until Sammy and Jackson exited. They all hugged each other and made promises to find each other one day. Michael was the last person Sammy hugged after he handed her her things.
He whispered in her ear, "If in any adventure you need any help of any kind, you know where to find us. You know where to find me. Good luck Sammy."
There were only four people who could call her Sammy. Her mother was dead, Dean was in another country, and that left Michael and Jackson. She didn't correct him and just nodded. She grabbed Jackson's hand and they ran into the forest.
The rest of the children watched them go from the front yard as the fire spread in the Miller house behind them. Engulfing the entire cursed building in a wild flame. By the time one of the neighbors noticed and called the fire department it was too late to save the house.
When the social workers arrived they took the children into custody. They asked them questions and they were all answered to the extended that was needed. They said that Mr. Miller was an abuser. That he kept them starved and in harsh conditions. That he was a smoker and a drinker.
No one was sad that he passed. They gave their names and were looked up in the database and were sent to the houses that the computer said they would go next. As the kids parted they all hugged each other and had a knowing smile on their faces. Like if they won.
.:~*~:.
"How's Harry?" Lestrade asked John on lunch break. It was a 'secret' that Lestrade and Mycroft were a thing, but when you're married to Sherlock, nothing is a secret. But John never mentioned anything to either the DI or Mycroft until they said something first. He was sure they knew he knew, but were happy for the pretense John gave of not knowing. Since then and Mycroft telling Lestrade that John and Sherlock wanted to be parents Lestrade and John have hung out more.
"She's good. She barely found out she was pregnant a while ago so it'll be some time before she even starts to show," John answered.
"That's good. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" Lestrade asked.
"I'm a ex military doctor who's married to a consulting detective who used to consider himself a sociopath. While I'm not working on sick people I'm chasing criminals around London at random times of the night. I still think myself as straight and Sherlock...I have no idea. At this point I just want to be able to understand their homework and be able to help somewhat and not feel like an idiot compared to my own would-be child," John explained with a sigh.
Lestrade chuckled but John could see the fatigue on his face.
"How's the Miller case going?" John asked.
"It...I'm not usually one to believe in entities but I think Karma nipped this one in the bud," Lestrade said.
"What do you mean?" John asked confused.
Lestrade sighed, "A few days ago we're called into action to investigate to see if Mr. Miller's death was an accident or not. I was actually tempted to call Sherlock in but I know he doesn't take children cases and really...it all worked out for the better. Plus there is no evidence in the slightest to prove it was murder...The only thing that gets me..."
"What?" John pressed.
"It...might have been a kid that killed him," Lestrade said.
John's brow furrowed, "You sure?"
"I know it sounds bad but...all psychopaths were once children right?" Lestrade scrubbed his face before he continued, "The thing is...I couldn't help but think of Sherlock." A John's glare Lestrade quickly raised his surrender gesture hands and said, "Just hear me out okay?"
"This better be good," John said.
"Miller was found in the basement, which was filled with smoke from the chimney. The rest of the house caught fire because a lit cigarette that fell on some liquor. He was an avid smoker and drinker so that fits, but his death doesn't. He had a sudden heart attack that seemed from natural causes. Other than some smoke from the chimney and what he smokes, and a lot of liquor, there was nothing else in his system."
"So it wasn't the smoke inhalation that killed him?" John asked.
Lestrade shook his head, "Out of everything to kill him it wasn't the smoke from the chimney, the fire that spread throughout the house, or his vices. Just a heart attack. It seemed too perfect. I would let it be if it wasn't for the fact that he was in the basement. What would he be doing there? It was locked from the inside and the chimney was used all day every day to keep the house warm but it was never closed until that day."
"What about the wife?" John asked.
"Missing. We tracked her down just yesterday and brought her into questioning. I've worked with Sherlock for many years and I've learned a few things even though he doesn't believe so. I did a round of the house myself. It seemed a bit just too perfect the way things happen. And the wife? Not to be rude, but she's as dumb as a sack of hammers, and it's not a front either." Lestrade said.
John made a face and crossed his arms, "What makes you think it was a kid who did it and what made you think of Sherlock?"
"We only collected six kids. My friends swears there were eight. But there's no proof. Everything in the house went up in flames and there's not paper trail to back it up, but the neighbors say there were two more kids. But none of the other kids said anything. And as for Sherlock...if a kid really did do this then they're brilliant because to everyone working the scene..it was the perfect accident of domino effects. An act of evil for the sake of goodness. He was a typical abuser who used the money the government gave him for these kids on himself. These kids did chores like slaves and were kept in barely descent living conditions and were starved. Now these kids are going to good homes to people who actually want to be parents and not abuse the system." Lestrade said.
"So there's a chance that a pre-psychopath just got away with murder but they did it to save the other children?" John summed up.
"Could be or could be not." Lestrade answered.
"So there might be sociopath out there...they're fighting on the side of angels right? Doesn't that count?" John asked.
Lestrade sighed once more, "I just hope it's nothing. But if it turns out to be something I hope it's another Sherlock and not a Moriarty."
John cringed at the name of the master criminal and merely nodded while taking a sip of his coffee. Soon their lunch break ended and they parted ways. On his way back to Surgery John couldn't help but think about their child. He knew that his child would receive love and proper attention and not be isolated like Sherlock and Mycroft might have been when they were children, but would his child be able to make friends his own age? Would they have trouble socializing?Would their likely genius be a curse and not a blessing? Would they go through their own phase of 'I'm a self proclaimed sociopath'?
I tried to make this long as a way to say I'm sorry for not updating regularly. I have loads of ideas for this story so I haven't abandoned it. I'm very basing off Sammy and Jack's scenario sort of like John and Sherlock's. I know they're kids and some of this stuff will seem unlikely. My response to that is...they're Sherlock and John's kids. Also, if you watch Criminal Minds...I think you can understand what I'm coming from.
Anyway...I see this chapter as some parts "dark" and other "fluffy". trying to keep a balance.
The next chapter will be when Jack gets ill and Sammy does some underhanded things to get him the proper things he needs which raise Mycroft's attention. Lestrade is already suspicious and now Sherlock and John will soon be on their tail too!
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