Cassandra Watson (Sherlock BBC fanfiction)

Chapter Four

•September 14th, 2026•

After supper and after getting Cassandra ready for school the next day, Mary and John were standing together washing and drying the dishes. John couldn't stop thinking about what Sherlock had said earlier that day. What he said made sense. Cassandra always tried her hardest to seem as smart as Sherlock, despite her grades being low, even for an 11 year old.

"Sherlock thinks Cassy is being bullied," he finally said to his wife. "What he said makes sense, too. Do you think we've been too busy to notice?"

Mary paused and looked at John. "I think so, John. Our minds have always been far away even before Cassandra was born. Then there's the whole...Moriarty thing."

They both went silent. Sherlock still hadn't figured out what Moriarty wanted. He hadn't showed himself since before Cassandra was born. John liked to think that maybe it was just someone trying to pull a prank on all of London or someone who planned to do something, but then backed down when they realized Sherlock was back. But Sherlock knew that was not it. Moriarty's body was never found on the roof, therefore there was someone out there; either Moriarty himself or his network.

John sighed and looked back down at the dishes in his hands. "I'll go talk to her."

Mary nodded and kissed her husband's cheek. "This will all be okay, sweetheart. We're not exactly a normal family, remember?"

John chuckled. She was right; Cassandra's mother was an assassin, her father was a war veteran and her godfather/"uncle" was a consulting detective that had the most dangerous criminal in the world as his "arch enemy".

John walked into Cassandra's room to find the 11 year old sitting indian style on her bed, reading a huge novel Sherlock had given her for her birthday.

There was no doubt in John's mind that Cassandra was incredibly smart for her age. She could read by the time she could talk, thanks to Sherlock. Whenever he could, Sherlock would sit down and help Cassandra read some of the bigger books he owned until she was reading way beyond her grade level. By 11 years of age, Cassandra Watson was wise beyond her years, however her grades were still slipping. Nobody could understand why.

Upon hearing the door open, Cassandra looked up from her book.

"Is it time for bed?" she asked, bookmarking her page and closing her book.

"No, Cassy," John said. He entered the room and sat on the edge of Cassandra's bed. "I think we need to talk."

Alarm was written all over the little girl's face. "Is it because I keep going over to Uncle Sherlock's? I'm sorry, I can't help it! I love being over there, that's all!"

"No no, sweetie," John said, placing a hand on Cassandra's to calm her down. "It's not about that. Actually, it's about something your Uncle Sherlock told me today." John took a deep breath before saying, "Cassandra, honey...are you being bullied."

Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up and the threat of tears sting her eyes. She quickly looked away from her father, focusing on her book still laid on her lap. She tried to focus on the words, but her vision was beginning to blur with tears and soon enough, a small tear drop rolled from her eye down her nose and onto her page, staining the page.

"Cassy," John said, trying his best fatherly nurture voice. He still wasn't used to being a father, even after 11 years! "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," Cassandra said, attempting to hold back her tears. "Because I shouldn't have to go to my father to fight my battles."

The voice of one of her tormentors rang in her ears, laughing at her as she cried, asking, "What's wrong? Did we hurt your feelings? Are you gonna run to your mummy and daddy and get them to assassinate us?"

John wrapped his arms around the little girl and pulled her to him. She finally let her tears fall and sobbed. The bullying hurt. She hated going to school. Some days she just wanted to run to her Uncle Sherlock and stay there all day, even if he wasn't there. Mrs. Hudson loved her. She'd let her stay and feed her cookies and make her tea.

But Sherlock would make her go back to school and he'd tell John and Mary and they'd get mad. So, the best course of action for her right now was to face the bullies and hope they would stop.

But they didn't. They never stopped. They just got so much worst.

John kissed Cassandra's head and cradled her in his arms, the same way he did when she was a baby. He wished she still was just a baby. He wasn't prepared to deal with the bullying, or the boys. John suppressed a shudder; boys were not for another few years, he reminded himself.

Finally, Cassandra managed to cry herself to sleep in John's arms. John moved her book and placed the little girl in bed and covered her up. He wiped the remaining tears from her face and kissed her forehead once more before turning off the light and exiting her room. He was having a hard time containing his tears.

Mary was sat up in bed, reading a book as well. For a moment, John saw Cassandra and realized how much his little girl looked like her mother.

The moment he entered their room, Mary's head shot up. She quickly closed her book.

"What did she say?" she asked.

"She didn't admit it verbally, but her tears were enough." John sighed and crawled into his bed next to his wife. "What do we do, Mary? Tell the school?"

"What would that do?" Mary asked, sitting back and crossing her arms. "I've heard about teachers who won't do anything unless they see the act and bullies who will play the victim when somebody finally comes forward against them." Mary paused before looking at John. "We can't just take care of them ourselves?"

"Mary!" John snapped. "They're children!"

Mary tilted her head like a confused dog. "So...we can't take care of them?"

John playfully nudged his wife and the two laughed, but it was bittersweet laughter. They both knew they had to do something. They couldn't let whoever these kids were continue to bully their beautiful little girl.

The two Watsons were laid together, cuddled close together. Both of them were thinking about the best solution they could to end this.

Suddenly, something popped into John's head. "Do you think Sherlock would be okay with picking Cassy up tomorrow?"