|Sherlock Imagines|

Johnlock: #1

Pairing: Johnlock x Daughter
Warnings: None

You were walking home after an extremely long day of school. You were sporting tons of homework–and a black eye.

You'd think that Sophomores would be a bit more mature. But not the ones at your school.

Every couple seconds you had to wipe at your eyes and sniffle. If you didn't, tears would pool from your eyes and blood would flow from your nose.

Your father would be furious. He'd always been extremely protective of you. You weren't complaining, it was usually comforting. But now you feared his reaction to your bruised face.

You finally made it to the flat, and you stood outside the front door for a few minutes.

"Here we go." You muttered to yourself, letting yourself in.

You pulled your hood up and over your face, hoping Mrs. Hudson wouldn't stop you. She wasn't in her flat, thankfully, so you climbed up the stairs.

You stopped outside the door to 221B, and listened in.

You could hear John's voice and the color drained from your face. Furious Sherlock was one thing, but John......John was something else.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. You winced as it creaked, drawing more attention to you. You stepped into the room and John and Sherlock's faces lit up for a moment before they fell.

They were both sitting on the couch, jaws falling open at the sight of you.

"Hey dad and......dad."

John jumped up and rushed over to you, brushing your bruised eye. You winced, and as he ran to grab his kit from the bathroom, you sat on the couch beside Sherlock.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, eyes raking over you, searching for any other injuries.

"People are afraid of knowledge. Especially when that knowledge comes from a girl."

Sherlock was taken aback. Sometimes he forgot how smart you were, and he was suddenly reminded how much of his daughter you really were.He held out his arm and you curled into his side.

John came back out with his kit and started wiping dried blood off your face. With Sherlock running his hands through your hair and John whispering reassurances as he cleaned your face, you finally let yourself cry.

Hot tears burned your eyes and throat. You could see John's eyes watering, and you didn't want him to cry too. But you couldn't help it.

John finished tending to your face and sat on the other side of you. The three of you sat in silence for a while, just curled up together.

John was the first to speak. "Did you at least get some good deductions in, sweetheart?"

Despite the situation you let out a short burst of laughter. You wiped at your eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Left them stunned."

Sherlock ruffled your hair. "That's my girl. I'm proud."

You smiled at him, "Thanks Dad."

"We'll always be proud of you," John assured you, kissing your forehead.

"Thanks Dad."

John beamed, like he always did when you called him that. It'd been years, and he still wasn't used to it.

At first he insisted you call him John, not wanting it to be confusing around the flat. But you rather enjoyed calling out 'Dad' and seeing both of them pop their heads up.

"I love you guys." You said, setting your head on John's shoulder.

"We love you too." Sherlock said softly, meaning every word as he watched over his daughter and his doctor.