Sherlock's Daughter

23 - Goodbye

Goodbye

Sherlock and Sherrinford both skip down the stairs and out of the front door onto Baker Street with a sense of urgency in their step. They both look around for a bustling black cab but then frown when they see the only taxi pulling up to the curb on the opposite side of the street which some other pedestrian has just hailed. "What do we do now?" Sherrinford huffs and combs his fingers through his hair but Sherlock is already off; sprinting across the road regardless of the oncoming traffic towards the cab. The younger Holmes watches as his older brother explains something to the civilian who then wanders off down the road with a scowl on his face.

"You coming?!" Sherlock calls for his brother so he also runs across the road but with a little more courtesy as he looks both ways just in case of a speeding car.

"How did you do that?" Sherrinford asks as he clambers into the black cab and plonks himself down next to the consulting detective who passes over an ID card: DI Gregory Lestrade. He chuckles to himself as he twirls the small piece of plastic between his fingertips. Sherlock leans forwards to tell the driver his destination before he sits back but doesn't exactly relax. He is nervous. Nervous of what is to come. Sherlock Holmes does not get nervous... which makes him even more agitated. He can feel his senses, his mind becoming more and more human every day in Juliet's presence. First there was John; an invalided army doctor who for some reason got through to Sherlock, made him more human. This made him open up; open up to Molly, Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Mary and now his daughter. For a split second he wonders if he will have a daughter by the end of the day, if she has walked into James Moriarty's trap. He shrugs these thoughts off, they are poison and he needs to be able to think straight. "This is almost unbelievable..." Sherrinford mutters to himself.

"Hmm?" The high functioning sociopath hums quite obviously confused.

"We haven't spoken to each other in years. And now? I don't know, it is just weird." He rambles to himself making Sherlock role his eyes.

"Well you know what they say... joint causes bring people together and all that."

"So we are what? Allies?" Sherrinford is almost hurt at this notion; he receives no response. A silent agreement. "Even after all this, you are not going the accept me as your brother?" He stops himself from raising his voice but it isn't easy. Nothing is easy anymore.

"Don't you remember what you did?" Sherlock spits suddenly infuriated by his brother's attitude. "We thought you died Sherrinford... do you know what that did to mum and dad?"

"You hypocrite! You faked your death, remember?!" He whisper shouts even know it is very clear that the cabbie can hear by the shocked expression on his face which is being displayed in the rear-view mirror.

"At least I made sure that our parents knew it was all fake." He mumbles.

"I thought it was real!" Sherrinford roars before peering around awkwardly and shuffling deeper into the seat. "And your friends didn't even know." Sherlock pauses for a moment not knowing what to say.

"Daniel Lester didn't know."

"Yes and now he is dead!" He looks like he is about to break into a quivering mess of tear and Sherlock despite his sociopathic tendencies can see this also so decides not to ignite the flame further. Mycroft would be very disappointed in him. "Look... this is not the time to do this. We have to stop Juliet before she does anything stupid."

"Or before Moriarty does anything to her." Sherlock agrees. They both sit in silence and watch the world go by as they peer out of the murky windows looking out onto London life. The hustle and bustle of the public transport, civilians and tourists; so much noise. Sherrinford watches the mass of pigeons crowded on the pavement when the cab stops at some traffic lights. He questions why the Robin is England's national bird, surely the Pigeon would have been a wiser choice? He knows for a fact that he has seen a lot more pigeons than robins in his life time. Sherlock on the other hand is sorting through his mind palace trying to think of a plan of action. What are they going to do? Just walk in there? The traffic light changes from red to amber to green so the taxi continues to crawl along the roads through a quieter part of London and yet the cabbie is still driving like a snail.