Well, I don't really have much to say, glad you guys are enjoying the story!
John gathered up a few papers stuffing them quickly into his bag, he was done running off and helping Sherlock. He had a life and wasn't going to set it aside just because Sherlock was back. As he pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder Sherlock slipped a paper in front of him. John glanced at it, "I'm not signing it." He said turning away.
"You know this is the right thing to do John, you've never turned away from the right thing before, why start now?" John sighed turning around he snatched up the paper and read over it a couple times before placing it down.
"You really think taking her home with you is going to fix everything don't you?"
"I think it's the best thing for her, yes." Sherlock said looking down at John.
"I'm not signing it." John turned away. "Because I think it's the right thing." And with that he turned and walked out of Scotland Yard.
It had taken longer than normal, but Sherlock had gotten Lestrade to take him to her Father, Mr. Collins. "I just want to ask him something. Maybe figure a few things out that you can't, you know I can." Sherlock followed Lestrade around the station for almost two hours before he had finally cracked.
"Fine! But you better tell me what you really want to see him for, I've known you too long Sherlock, I know you're up to something."
"John wouldn't sign the papers I needed him to." Sherlock said, a hint of disgust in his voice.
"As I figured he wouldn't. So what, you want to see if you can get the Father to sign them? Sherlock this man abused her for years, what makes you think you can get him to give enough of a damn to sign them?" Lestrade asked as he grabbed some keys and started off towards a part of Scotland Yard he hadn't been to before, where they kept people awaiting trial. Sherlock followed Lestrade for about 20 minutes past a couple other cells until he stopped outside of one set away from everyone else. Sherlock didn't need to ask if this was the right one, he could tell by the look on Lestrade's face that they were there. "I'll be out here," Lestrade said as he unlocked the door and let Sherlock pass through.
As the door behind him he turned towards the only person that was in there besides him, Mr. Collins sat on the cot that matched the one Celeste was sleeping on. "Mr. Collins. My name is Sherlock Holmes. I've come to talk to you about your daughter."
"What about her? Did she finally kick it? Wouldn't be surprised, been a fuckin' idiot since her Mum died. She used to be brilliant. Could've gone places that girl." He seemed to not realize he was speaking aloud.
"What do you mean?" Sherlock said, "You mean she hasn't always been... this way?"
"Didn' I jus' say tha' boy? She graduated top of her class she did. Even go' acep'ed to college at 16! She was all done wi'h school by the age 'o 15. Smart girl." He murmured, Sherlock leaned against the back of the wall.
"What happened to her? Was she in an accident?" There had to be a reason.
"Could say tha'." He scratched his scruffy beard as though thinking. "Hasn' been righ' since 'er Mum died ya see. She was 20 whe' it 'appened. I walked in on 'er Mum with ano'her man, killed em both, well, I didn' know she wa' home. She was always a good girl..." He spoke as if he was talking about the weather outside. "Well, she had jus' walked in as I took my ax outta his 'ead you see, blood 'verywhere, had to use more bleach 'han I'd ever seen in my life 'fore, and she screamed. Well I couln' jus' let 'er walk on ou'. So i grabbed 'er around the neck and knocked 'er out with the end of me ax and tied 'er up. Locked 'er up nice and tigh' in the cubbard nex' 'o the fireplace. Figure'd she'd be warm at leas'. Fed 'er once 'very couple days." He leaned back as if he hadn't said anything. "I miss tha' ax." He looked at Sherlock as though nothing had just happened. "You alrigh' 'here? You look sick. Like you seen a ghost you 'ave. But I 'spose tha's not why yer here, somethin about Celeste?"
"Wait." Her name brought him back to what he was doing there in the first place. "What did you call her?"
"Celeste, 'er Mum named 'er. Always was a star freak. You were 'ere for somethin' weren' ya?" He leaned forward watching Sherlock as though he had never seen someone like him before.
"I was wanting you to sign this. It's about Celeste." He held out the paper towards Mr. Collins who took it and read it over. "We have someone who wants to take her in, and we need you to sign it. Giving her up for good. You'll have nothing to do with her, you will not be allowed to contact her, ever." He emphasised the last word to let him know it was final.
"Give me a pen, I'll sign it alrigh'. Take 'er to the damn loony bin 'or all I care." He signed the bottom of the paper and threw both the paper and the pen back at Sherlock. "Wher'ver you send 'er I hope its worst 'han where she came from. She was gonna tell on me, 'bout wha' I did to 'er Mum and tha' man. Wha' kind of daugh'er tells on 'er own Da'?"
"A good one." Sherlock said picking up the pen and paper. As he reached the door Mr. Collins spoke again.
"You 'ooked surprised when I 'old you 'er name. Wha' 'ave you been callin' 'er?"
"Celeste. I was just merly surprised at the coininsidence. She took to a book about stars, that's why I called her that. Good to know her personality fits her name." Sherlock said taking another step towards the door.
"I 'ope she rots in 'ell I do. She gave me 'his." He turned his head to the side where a long white scar ran down the side of his face, from the temple down to his chin. "Go' hold of a broke' tile piece. I taugh' 'er good af'er tha' I did." He grinned a wicked grin. "Made 'er drink bleach. She's lucky she can talk she is. Good day Mr. Holmes."