Sherlock leant against the couch and sighed, closing his eyes. He was in pain again, as was a common occurrence with his new injury, the one that wiped his leg below the knee clean off and made him get a prosthetic.
His two year old daughter, Rosamund WatsonHolmes, crawled onto the couch with him. “Dadddy!” She looked up at him and pouted.
“Oh, not today,” Sherlock whispered. “I can't play today, Rosie.”
Rosie crawled up to Sherlock, pouting again.
Sherlock sighed and punched the bridge of his nose, leaning over in pain. “I can't play right now…” he whispered.
Rosie stared at him, and looked at his metal leg. She didn't understand what was happening, but she knew it was giving Sherlock pain.
“Daddy is a superhero!” She said, getting off the couch. She waddled around, falling on the floor sometimes as she tried to walk.
Sherlock watched her, unable to help a smile. “Rosie, I need my phone.”
Rosie looked around and saw the phone on Sherlock's chair. She crawled to it and picked it up, then walked back to Sherlock, falling over a few times.
“Superhero!” She squealed. “Daddy is a superhero!” She pointed to the leg, as if it was proof, as if having that damned leg gave Sherlock special powers.
“Heroes don't exist, Rosie.” Sherlock whispered, picking her up. He took his phone and kissed her cheek. He leant back and called John.
His husband picked up after a few rings.
“Need something, Baby?” He asked, always worried for Sherlock.
“Yeah…” He set his hand in Rosamund's hair. “Rosie wants to play superhero with me. I can't right now, John. I can't.” He frowned.
“Okay, I'll wrap up my shopping, and I'll be right there. It should take about a half hour, alright?”
Sherlock nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
The husbands blew kisses, then Sherlock hung up.
Rosie ran off to get her toys. She was really into superheros right now.
She brought back some superhero toys she had, then sat down next to Sherlock. “Daddy is my superhero!” She said, dropping the toys on the floor.
Sherlock leant over and picked up the short man with moth wings, holding him out to Rosie. “No, these are your superheros. I'm not one.”
Rosie started crying. Sherlock frowned and put the action figure down, wrapping his arms around Rosie. Where was John?!
“Rosie, let's bring you to bed… please…”
She shook her head.
Sherlock picked up the TV remote, turning on Doctor Strange. She loved him, and saw him as if he was Superman. Oddly, Sherlock felt like he could really relate to Doctor Strange, somehow…
He stopped thinking about it, letting Rosie watch it as he waited for John to come back.
John was there thirty minutes later. John set all of his groceries down in the kitchen, walking over to Sherlock and Rosie.
He sat down with Rosie, who lost interest in the movie. “Dada! Daddy is superhero!”
Sherlock frowned. Maybe she thought this because he looked a lot like Doctor Strange.
“No, I'm not.” Sherlock whispered.
John took Sherlock's hand and helped him from the couch. “I'll take care of Rosie.” He whispered, leading Sherlock into their room. He laid Sherlock down and took off his prosthetic, setting it beside the bed. He kissed Sherlock's lips, then went out to play with Rosie. Sherlock curled up and went to sleep.