athena ➢ sherlock's daughter

Chapter 22

Athena's First "B"

Unfortunately, Athena had to continue going to Avalon High for another two weeks before the district allowed her to transfer. Some rubbish about new insure policies. So she was in literal hell for two weeks, and only one thing made it worse: Spanish class.

Although Athena absolutely hated the class, she had the top grade-- until...

She was sitting in her desk in the back corner of the room, tapping her pencil quietly on her notebook, while Mrs. Rosa handed out the quizzes they took yesterday. She seemed all around pleased. When Mrs. Rosa got to Athena, however, she looked...disappointed as she placed the quiz face down on the younger girl's desk.

Confused, she picked the quiz up and flipped it over. Right there, on the top of the paper, was a huge, bright red 87. Her brain went into panic mode. This was her first "B" EVER. What if the next few school won't accept her because of it? What if she won't get into Uni? What if Sherlock disowns her? She obviously isn't up to par with any academic standards anymore. Her life is going to crumble around her.

She didn't even realize she was near tears until Riley, who was seated in front of her, turned around and said, "Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?"

She blinked the tears back and looked at him. "Nothing. It's nothing."

He raised an eyebrow and took the paper out of her hand. "Oh... Athena... It's okay. When you compare it to the rest of the class... I mean we all made 70s or lower..."

"That's a lie, Riley."

"Maybe, but you did well. You're on par with the rest of us."

"I'm not supposed to be."

Riley frowned a little bit. "Don't you think you're being a little ridiculous?"

As if heaven sent a miracle, the bell rang, signaling that she needed to hustle to her next class. So immediately, she stood and handed her quiz back to Mrs. Rosa with a blank face and left the room without any indication of hearing Riley's calls behind her. She didn't need to hear this right now.

∞

Athena walked into 221B with a loud slam behind her and hurried up the stairs. John, who was sitting in his chair with his laptop, looked up and smiled. "Hey, how was your day?"

"Don't talk to me. NO ONE talk to me," she called without looking back.

John shared a look with a now conscious Sherlock. They seemed to have a silent until Sherlock gave a defeated sigh and stood. "I always have to deal with her when she's angry."

"I'd do it if you weren't oblivious when she was crying yesterday," John snapped. "Now go help her."

Sherlock sighed. Don't get him wrong, he loved Athena as much as his brain allowed, but he was new to feelings, so dealing with situations like this were hard to deal with. So he clambered slowly into Athena's bedroom and sat down beside the young girl who was angrily scribbling all over her Spanish homework.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Venting."

"On your work?"

"What better place?"

The man stared at her for a moment. She wasn't writing anything, just scribbling all over the answers she'd already written. Angry little circles spread all over the page. Harsh, black ink bled through the notebook paper until she had successfully punctured the spot. Then she moved to the next.

"Alright, enough of that," he said, taking the pen. "You're not getting anywhere. What's this about?"

"I got an 87 on my last quiz."

There was a moment of silence before Sherlock said, "In normal circumstances that's a good grade. Why are you upset?"

As soon as the words were plunged into the atmosphere, she uttered a quick, quiet reply. "87? I've never in my life made anything lover than a 98, and that one was a mistake. I have perfect grades, a perfect track record. I can't have anything messing that up. An 87 is the worst grade possible. To Universities, I look lazy. To employers, I look underachieved. To speculators, I look ignorant. That contradicts everything about me. An 87 is my nightmare and it's real now."

The man inhaled for a moment then let out a shaky breath. "No one is perfect."

"School work is the one place I can appear to be and it's been ripped from me by my own stupidity," she challenged.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "You're afraid of appearing stupid." It wasn't a question.

"My brain is all I have."

He chuckled. "You're anything but stupid."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He looked at her for a moment. "That's it. You're not going to school tomorrow. I have a case. I want you to deduce it."

She looked up at him from her notebook. "What if I can't?"

"You will. I even have medication so you won't pass out at the blood." His lips twitched upward.

"When'd you buy that?"

"The day you fainted. John wouldn't let me take you with me again though."

"And he'll let me go this time?"

"I'm your father, aren't I? I get the final say."

"He'll yell."

"He always yells when he's frustrated."

"What's the case about?"

"Woman found dead in her office. Lestrade couldn't solve it. He called me."

"Excellent."

∞

"There appears to be vomit on her mouth," Athena observed. "More must be inside." She and Sherlock were at Bart's looking at the corpse of the woman who died in her office. "No external wounds or maladies."

"Yes, good. Look deeper."

"No need. She choked on her own vomit. She was poisoned. Obviously in the tea she was drinking while she worked. Powdered cyanide, perhaps. Maybe ipecac syrup."

"Yes, obvious. But we need a who," Sherlock pressed.

Athena glanced over the body some more before her eyes landed on the woman's left hand. "Ex-husband. The tan line has faded where her ring was. She ha stretch marks, indicating children. He either wanted custody or was sick of child support. Look up the woman's name, you'll find the ex-husband. Arrest him."

Sherlock smirked at her and turned to Molly, who had her eyes opened widely at the young girl. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He winked at Molly. "Let's go home before John gets suspicious and decides that we're not actually at the park."

"The park? Did you really tell him that?" she asked amusedly.

He raised his hands in mock defense. "I said we were going to that little ice cream booth you like."

"Well, we might as well," she hinted.

"...Only if they have mint chocolate."

"Of course they do."