Hellow! So here's the new chapter, and first of all my thanks to Benfan (I really can't thank you enough) for reviewing, and more importantly beta-ing :)

And thank you, captaincatbones, for following and favoriting, it means a lot to me :)

So... Well, there are very few chapters left, and I'm still not sure if you people like it or if my updates are just an annoying little entry among all those awesome fanfics which are posted everyday. Penny for a piece of your mind? Pretty please? ^^

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this one!

Chapter 19. I missed you

John turned to Sherlock, who had remained motionless all this time. Once again he couldn't read any emotion in those grey eyes, but this time he knew perfectly well that this was a deceptive impression. "Sherlock."

Holmes removed his gaze from his sister's swollen face to look at his friend properly. Good sign. John caught his friend's eyes before talking again. "You have to talk to her."

"What? Why?" Now he was panicking. The usually sarcastic and arrogant man was panicking because he honestly didn't know how to express his feelings and what was more, how to help another person deal with her feelings. John gave Sherlock an encouraging smile, as usual intuitively sensing the genius's difficulties to cope with emotions.

"She needs YOU right now." And he stood up to give his friend some room to maneuver. Still hesitant, Sherlock kneeled down. He was shocked at the empty look in the woman's eyes. He couldn't refrain from taking note of her grey eyes being very similar to his own. It was definitely her. She changed, became an adult, and he felt stupidly proud of this. However she still looked like a teen. Had always looked younger than her age. And why did she dye her hair?

Although once again he would never admit it, Sherlock was afraid of the vacant look on her face. He forced himself to call out: "Vick…" Her lips moved in a silent mumble. Was it good? He looked up to John, who just frowned and nodded. Suddenly filled with cold determination, Holmes took her hand. Startled, she finally turned her head to face him. Her eyebrows were raised in a pitiful plead, and her voice was so feeble he barely heard it:

"Sherlock." Well, at least she woke up from her daydreaming, but what is he supposed to do now? He would have liked to take a glimpse at John, just to be sure; but strangely enough he couldn't take his eyes off her face. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" she implored him.

That was quite a surprise. "Why?!"

She shook his hand off and clenched her fists. Her speech was confused. "I was stupid, really stupid… I should have realized sooner that… that it was… wrong. But it was so blurry in my head… Those memories, it could have been just a dream, you know? A simple dream." She stroked her hair, and then hid her face in her hands. "So I just waited, and waited, and waited for someone to come and tell me the truth, and no one ever came, and I gave up on this part of me." Her arms fell down, and tears dripped on the dusty floor. "You must have suffered because of my stupid behavior… I'm sorry, so sorry… You must hate me now." It looked as if she struggled to avoid her brother's insistent stare, apparently unwilling to find out whether her assumption has been right.

Properly astonished by such an irrational interpretation of the events, yet aware that the shock-talking shouldn't be taken seriously, Sherlock was feverishly thinking about something to settle the situation. One day Mrs. Hudson told him that sentiments wouldn't kill him and that sometimes it'd be better for everyone if he just genuinely expressed his feelings. Maybe that was the right moment to give it a try. He delved in his pockets, not taking his eyes off of Victoria's grieving face.

He finally found the item he was looking for and firmly took his sister's hand. She glanced at him, uncertain of what would happen next. "I've never hated you." He said this with his deep charming baritone. As she was still hesitating, he faintly smiled and put a pocket watch in her small hand. "Sorry for being late."

Feeling his mouth become dry, he observed Victoria. She slowly, cautiously pressed the old pocket watch against her heart. The eyelids were tightly closed, yet her voice became more assured. "You were the one who gave it to me. How did I manage not to lose it?.." She took the device to her lips and smiled cheerfully.

Only then did Sherlock fully understand how nervous he was. A heavy weight was taken from his shoulders. The sentimental part was over; he didn't have to deal with those confusing feelings of pain and joy anymore. Very good.

"Can you stand up?" he asked with his wonted, matter-of-fact intonation.

"I think so."

She stood up by herself, still not without a quiet pained moan. He felt a touch of worry. Interesting. As far as he remembered, he used to experience this quite often when Vick was around. Did it mean this emotion would come back now? Was it a good thing?

John saw her discomfort too, and hurried to offer his help. But she just shook her head.

Out of the blue, she blushed, looked down, then to the right. What was that about? Finally she looked into his eyes. Before he could say anything, Victoria gave him a long hug. "I missed you, Sherlock." First puzzled, he met Watson's amused gaze and gently responded to the hug. Obeying an unknown impulse, Sherlock Holmes whispered so only she could hear it: "I missed you too."

A/N Aren't they sweet? :)

I hate leaving loose ends, so there will be some more, and I just need to bring Mycroft into this one more time (or two). Knowing that he properly tortures me whenever I try to write him, this might be quite a challenge...

See you soon (and please review ^^)