Sherlock's Long Lost Daughter {The LOST Chronicles, BOOK 1}

Chapter 2- Discovering The Truth

Sherlock's Pov-

My mind was going crazy tring to deduce her and figure out who she was and why she was sent to me. Was she a spy? Did Mycroft hire her? Does she work for Moriarty?

All she did was sit there in silence staring at me, GREAT! Any moment now she is going to cry, I can tell by the fact that she is trembling plus the more obvious fact that her eyes are filled with tears.

"TELL ME!" I shouted at her trying to make her scared into giving herself up.

She stood up, wiped her eyes to make sure they weren't filled with tears. She stood strong, not timid like she did before, like something had given her power, a sense to be strong.

"My name is Madeline H.Adler, I am the daughter of Irene Adler and she sent me to you!" She screamed at me. At that precise moment, just to make things even, better John walked in.

John's Pov-

I walked up the stairs of 221B to hear shouting coming from the flat. I walked in to find Sherlock, in his usual black suit with his white shirt standing there poised, pointing a gun at a young girl's head.

I then realised who she was and ran in between them to stop whatever was going on.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING SHERLOCK?" I yelled at him.

"John stop interfering and get out of the way, I'm busy." He said to me in with an annoyed tone in his voice.

"YOU CAN'T POINT A GUN AT THIS GIRL!" I tried to reason with him.

"AND WHY SHOULDN'T I JOHN, UNLESS YOU CAN GIVE ME A VALID REASON WHY?" He questioned me.

"BECAUSE SHE IS YOUR DAUGHTER!" I screamed at him.

Great! Why did I do that for?? I can be so stupid sometimes! I just put my foot through everything!

Sherlock's Pov-

I stared at the girl in fathom, trying to take it all in that I actually had a daughter, I never thought I'd actually have a child before. I felt a bit of sentiment brewing inside me but tried to hide it from both of them. She can't be really  mine, can she?

"No, no she can't be. Me and Irene finished a long time ago, I only saw her once after she went under witness protection! I said hastily to John, "Anyway how would you know that she is?"

"Oh, come on Sherlock it wouldn't even take you to figure out that she is your daughter! I mean look at her, look at the resemblance between you both! You have both got dark curly hair, piercing blue eyes, a pale complexion do I need to go on? Plus I knew about her from Mycroft. I knew that Irene was pregnant with your child and so did he. He thought it would be better for you not to know about her and that it would be better for her to live with Irene under witness protection than with you giving the dangerous lifestyle that you lead and the enemies that you have attained over the years." John informed me. 

A silence lingered in the room for a few moments as I tried to take it all in.

What was I doing pointing a gun at my own daughter, or even the fact that she was just an ordinary girl? Why didn't I see the resemblance before? I may have only been with her for a total of five minutes but even for me that's slow. What's wrong with me? My head was beginning to ache as I started to go into  much deep thought about this all. The guilt started to build up inside me about jumping to conclusions that she was here to do something to me. I actually felt sorry for her, she came all this way not even knowing who I was and for me to just jump to conclusions and point a gun straight at her head. I mean I could have killed her. What must she be thinking of me now? I pushed all of these feelings of sentiment aside as the thought started to process that my own brother kept the fact that I have a daughter away from me, I know we aren't close but that was low, even for Mycroft. 

I turned to her, to find her staring at me with shock, filled with emotions.

"I'm sorry" I simply said before angrily throwing the gun down, grabbing my coat and scarf and running down the stairs of 221B.

"Oh, Sherlock what's all that noise been about upstairs?" Mrs Hudson complained to me as I pushed past her and went out of the door of 221B, slamming it shut behind me. I needed to go to see Mycroft and find out what the hell was going on and to take my anger out.

I raised my hand out into the road and called "Taxi". A taxi pulled over and I got in. "The Diogenes Club, now" I said firmly to the cabbie.

As the cab was driving off I looked up at the windows of my flat in 221B to see my daughter's red face staring down at me with sadness and anger as I rode away.