My heels thudded up the stairs of 221B as my body begged me to rest. I could no longer see through the tears which streamed down my face. The door swung open and I fell into the room, slamming it shut behind me I dropped to the floor holding the resemblance of a rag doll as I did so. The tears flowed as my sobs grew louder and my breathing panicked. "Oh god!" I wailed, pressing the palms of my hands to my soaked eyes and drawing in thick breathes, the same way a person dying of suffocation would. I felt as if that were happening to me.

"Alex?!" John yelled, sprinting from the small kitchen to my side. I sat curled in a ball, the gun cradled in my lap as John knelt by me, stroking my hair and asking what was wrong.

I couldn't breathe, the tears continued to flow as I grabbed John's shirt and pressed it to my eyes. We both fell silent and snapped our heads up as the light clicked on and Sherlock stood in the centre of the room. "What happened?" He demanded, offering no sympathy. I swallowed the lump which had formed in my throat, lifting the gun from my lap with trembling hands and sliding it across the floor to him. He stared at it for a second, before asking where I got it.

"It was yours." I whispered, trying not to break down. "I just killed someone... Oh- oh my- ive just killed someone! I think I'm going to be sick!" I yelped, growing panicky once more.

"Who did you kill?" My dad asked, not in the least phased at my outburst.

I paused before responding. "Tommy..." I whispered, shame filling me.

"Ironic, isn't it. Happy eight month anniversary" a voice said as a male stepped from the kitchen. I rubbed my eyes dry to see uncle Mycroft stood before me. "Sherlock stop torturing her, you know what happened. My dear, if you would stop overreacting we need to discover how much danger you could be in." He directed towards me, smiling as hard as he could.

Suspicion at their lack of surprise that I was a murderer filled me as I asked what was going on. No one spoke a word in response. A familiar face emerged from the kitchen alongside Uncle Mycroft, holding a disc with a gleam in his eye. Jim Moriarty.

He placed the disc in our TV coated in dust due to lack of use. Dad and Uncle Mycroft joined Moriarty on the sofa as John helped me to my feet, kissing me on the cheek and stroking my hair reassuringly. I stood behind the sofa, leaning on it as CCTV footage of the events at the house flashed to the screen. My stomach twisted as I saw myself with Tommy. Embarrassment filled me at the amount of men -most of which family members- seeing this. As the footage ended, they began to discuss the ways they could get me out of legal trouble.

"Someone explain what's going on here." I said, standing before the sofa full of people in the most intimidating way I could manage. who began to squirm under my forceful glare.

"Maybe you should sit down." Uncle Mycroft eventually said to me, angering me more.

"No, someone explain what is going on right bloody now! Tonight I have been almost raped, killed someone and worried that I'm going to be fucking arrested. And now my family are hiding something pretty big by the looks of it. So, I'm going to stand here until one of you tells me what's going on. Right. Now." Silence followed my sudden outburst, dragging on long enough to make me feel like an immature child throwing a tantrum. Moriarty grinned at Sherlock, "tell the child." He said in a patronising tone, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I waited for a response.

"Your father," Mycroft began, clearing his throat, "he's a consulting detective."

"What the hell is that?" I asked, sounding too aggressive.

"You study law, you should know." My uncle responded.

"Yeah, I study law but I've never heard of a 'consulting detective'"

"I'm the only one of my kind." My father spoke up. I no longer recognised him, I felt as if he was a stranger to me. And me to him. "When the police are out of their depths,"

"Which is always" Moriarty added

"Yes, which is always, they come to me. I can close enough to solve a crime without any input without much time any time." I glanced at uncle Mycroft to see if he was lying. All he did was nod his head in agreement.

"What about you?" I nodded my head towards Moriarty, who smiled.

"Consulting criminal." He said in a thick irish drawl that made me tingle

"Of course! And how about you?" I asked Mycroft.

"It's confusing, He, in then most basic terms, owns the government." John said with a friendly smile which has always calmed me.

"Oh my god... We studied you in Law!" I said, running my hands through my hair and pacing around the room. "Oh my god... My family is a bunch of freaks." I paced a while more before turning on them. "So all those times I asked for a bit of family history, and you always said 'nothing, it's all boring' you were lying through your teeth. What happened to my mum, then?" I asked, greeted with silence and uncomfortable squirming as a reply.

"You killed her, Alex. God the rest of you's re so boring, why won't you just tell her?" Spoke Moriarty.

Silence followed this as I took in what was said.

'Beep beep, beep beep' Sherlock's phone buzzed. Glancing at it, I saw him roll his eyes and stand, beckoning for John to do the same.

"What is it?" John asked

"Kidnapping." Sherlock responded.

"Im coming with you!" I burst out.

"No, too dangerous." My dad said, moving to grab his coat.

"You can't hide this anymore. I'll walk if I have to." My foot tapped in an impatient manner as I waited for his approval, and jumped in excitement as he sighed and nodded in the slightest way.

.

Sherlock's POV

I waited till the others had left the room. "You're being helpful. Joining the side of the Angels, are we?"

"Oh Sherlock. Don't be so ordinary." Came the Irish drawl. "You have something I want. I'll destroy you to get it if I must."

"Why the interest?"

"You know why"

"She has potential?"

"She does indeed. I want to make her mine, let me have her."

"Oh, it wouldn't be any fun if I just 'let' you would it?"

"You're willing to make your child the subject of our game."

"Do I have any choice?"

"Fair point."

"What do you want with her?"

Silence followed as Mr Moriarty smiled, stepping towards me. "Goodbye, Sherlock. I'll be seeing you soon. Very soon." and with that he stepped out the door, descending the stairs with a grace difficult to mirror.

I hopped into the cab parked up outside, joining John and Alex who were sat in silence. I smiled at the two, yet received nothing more than a cold glare from Alex.

"You're mad at me." I stated, looking to her for confirmation.

"Of course I'm mad at you." She said in a calm way, intrigued by the London life thriving beyond the window.

"Can I know why?"

"Cant you work it out? You're supposed to be a genius."

"He doesn't understand social cues in the slightest." I heard John mumble in her ear, to which she agreed was rather obvious.

"Dad, im mad at you. You've lied to me my entire life and now it's never going to be the same again." She said, looking at me as if I were a child unable to grasp the concept of basic human emotions.

"Why will it not be the same again?" I hated asking questions, I hated not understanding -but I'd never understood her. Everyone was right, I had never taken any interest in Alex Holmes, my own child.

"Why would it be? I want in." Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she said this, a grin on her face as I felt a smile break out on mine. She was more like me than I realised.