BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Sherlock: Lost and Found (Part 1)

Request for @voidrose

~

A knock came upon the door of 221B, and Sherlock Holmes rose from his chair to answer it. When he opened it up, no one was there. He went to close it, but heard a small "Excuse me" come from the ground. He looked down and there was a child, a little girl no older than seven, with black curly hair and piercing blue eyes. She looked strangely familiar, but he knew he had never seen her before.

"Can I help you?" he asked. The little girl stared up at the detective with curious eyes, and for a second, Sherlock felt like he was being analyzed.

"Are you Sherlock Holmes?" she asked, her voice a mere squeak compared to his.

"At your service," he remarked, kneeling down on one knee to her eye level. Normally he wasn't attune to humans, let alone children, but he felt a strange tug towards this one.

"Um, well, my mummy dropped me off here."

"And who is your mummy?" he asked.

"(Y/f/n) (Y/l/n)." At that Sherlock froze. He rose from the ground, and stared down at the child, finally piecing it all together.

"And you are?" he choked out, trying not to frighten her.

"Johanna, your daughter."

~

After the initial shock had worn off, Sherlock welcomed Johanna in, trying to act as normal as possible. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to hurt her, or scare her, he just wanted to keep that toothy grin on her face for the rest of her life. But he wasn't getting attached. He couldn't. He hadn't even known that you were pregnant. Maybe that's why she left he thought, then felt his heart pinch a little at the thought of you.

"Sherlock Holmes!" The yell came from the Johanna in the kitchen, and he darted in there as quickly as he could.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Johanna looked up innocently at him, and held out her empty plate.

"I'm done," she said simply, and Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. He was worried something had happened to her, but not too worried of course. "Do you have hearing problems?" she asked, hopping off the stool and strolling past him into the living room.

"No."

"Oh, well I kept calling you but I don't think you heard me. I was saying 'Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!' but you never came." She sat in his chair, which she didn't know was his chair, and looked at him, waiting for an answer as to why he wouldn't answer to his namesake.

"No one has ever called me that before," he responded breathily. He started to shake slightly, the realization of everything hitting him. He had a daughter, his own flesh and blood. And here she was, sitting in his chair, calling him daddy and twirling her dark curly hair and looking at him with bright blue eyes. It was too much for the even the famous Sherlock Holmes to handle.

So he called John.

~

"How old are you?" asked the doctor, sitting across from her in his armchair.

"Seven," she answered, holding up her fingers.

"Where's your mum at?" he questioned. Johanna shrugged her shoulders, then yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"What's that mean? What is she doing?" whispered Sherlock to John. John gave him a look.

"Sherlock she's yawning, she's tired."

"Does she need coffee? I don't know if Mrs. Hudson has coffee."

"Seven year olds don't drink coffee."

"Oh right, energy drinks."

"No. Seven year olds, and other normal humans, sleep when they're tired."

"Can I sleep in here?" yelled a voice from down the hall. Sherlock and John looked at each other, confused how she had gotten out of their sight so discreetly, then raced down the hall to Sherlock's bedroom. Johanna had crawled into his bed and snuggled underneath his covers, black hair spilled like a stain over the white pillows.

"That's my b-"

"Yes you can sleep in there, did you brush your teeth?" asked John, and Sherlock scowled at him. Johanna smiled her toothy grin to prove she did, and Sherlock felt his heart melt a little. Maybe it was okay that she slept in his bed tonight. Or any night. Anything for that smile. "Goodnight Johanna," said John, and Sherlock kept silent. They shut off the light, and left the door open a crack. As they were walking away, they heard a little call,

"Daddy!" Sherlock blinked, still getting used to being called that, and walked back to the room.

"Yes Johanna?" he said, peeking his head in.

"Bedtime story," she said, acting as if he should know already. "Mummy does them all the time, you do too right?" Again Sherlock's heart pinched at the thought of you.

"Okay," he said, voice cracking. He sat on the edge of the bed, and searched his mind for any bedtime story he could remember. He remembered none though, instead settling for a story about one of his cases. "Once upon a time a man was killed. Multiple knives were stuck through his body. Obviously couldn't have done it himself right?" Sherlock got so into the story that he didn't notice the tears falling down Johanna's cheek and the shuttering of her tiny body under the blankets. Finally, when he took a breath from talking, he took notice of her state. "What's wrong? Did I scare you?" She nodded.

"It's-it's supposed to be about princesses and dragons and knights," she stuttered out, still slightly scared.

"Okay. Once upon a time a princess was killed. Multiple knives were stuck through her bo- Johanna what's wrong now?" asked Sherlock. The little girl had covered her ears, not wanting to hear about how her favorite princess was murdered. Realizing her father had stopped talking, she hopped out of bed and padded over to the little blue backpack against the wall. Sherlock had not noticed it before. She grabbed out a book, then jumped back into bed and handed it to her dad.

"Mummy said you might need this." Again, more heart pinching. Taking a deep breath, and focusing his mind only on the book, Sherlock began to read.

"Once upon a time, there lived a princess..."

~

The next morning Sherlock awoke with a crook in his neck and threads of sunshine prodding at his eyelids. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned - his mind automatically reminding him of Johanna, his daughter, his daughter that had taken 7 years from him to find out about. He stayed laying on the couch, sifting through daydreams of what life would be like had you stayed, regretting how much of Johanna's life he had missed even though it wasn't his to regret. He sat up suddenly, shaking his head and running a frustrated hand through his hair. He was becoming to attached. He had known his daughter for less than 24 hours and somehow she had dug deeper into his heart than he cared to admit. He checked his watch - 6:11 am. He suddenly became aware of John's soft snores that radiated from him in his chair. Sitting up, and realizing that he had slept an unusually long amount of time, Sherlock stretched and scolded himself for sleeping in. He had gotten a solid 7 hours, more than he had gotten in the last two nights combined. He padded to the bathroom, relieved himself, then poked his head inside of his room to check on Johanna.

But there was no Johanna to check on.

She was gone.

A/N

Two parter story.

Yeehaw.

Random: Invent a random AU for the Sherlock fandom (try to use evidence for why that could be a possible new AU) (also make it as weird and crazy and out there as you want)

I really don't have anything to say besides thank you children, as always.

Momma loves you all.

Never grow up