Fandom One-Shots

His Daughter [J.M.] (c)

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC Show)

Character: James Moriarty

Synopsis: songfic using the song His Daughter by Molly Kate Kestner

Warning: does mention God, and is about a female reader.

Note: some lyrics were taken out to better fit this oneshot.

"Everything's gonna be alright," she whispered to herself. She was only six years old that night she hid behind that shelf.

"Why, my little (Y/N)!" Your father's words were so slurred, you could barely understand him. At the sound of your father's voice, your mother came and stood behind you, a silent but protective presence.

'Cause Daddy had a little too much to drink, and Mama didn't want her to feel the pain she felt. But she still felt the pain...

"And my dear wife! Daddy's home!" He slurred, moving to put a hand on your face, but your mother stopped him, and his glare was murderous. "What are you doing?"

"You're drunk," she said plainly. "You shouldn't be around (Y/N)." In an instant, your mother was cradling her cheek. Out of shock and fear, you cried out, and your father turned his sights on you. As he inched towards you, your mother pulled on his arm, distracting him long enough for you to run over to the nearest hiding spot, a bookshelf just small enough for you to fit behind it. You sat there for a long time, in the fetal position, hands over your ears as you closed your eyes and tried to pretend that you didn't flinch whenever you heard your mother cry out, or that your father wasn't beating your mother.

Well, ten years they came and went, and Dad was gone, so she looked for love in other men and tried to act strong.

"You're mine," he growled, pushing you into him. You were being held so hard that it hurt to move, and you had a feeling he meant it to be that way. You struggled, not wanting this, but he was too strong. At the last second, you managed to distract him with a kick in his shin, allowing you a few precious seconds of escape as you ran into your room and locked it, and when you sat on your bed, you were dazed and in a trance, not believing what had almost happened.

Oh, broken hearts and scars in only places she could see. 'Cause she just wanted, she just wanted to feel something.

The dam finally broke when you caught sight of your damaged arms, littered with scars and a few new bruises from the boy downstairs. It didn't help when you started thinking about how he would tell everyone about what hadn't happened, and because it was high-school you would be even more of an outsider than you already were. And then your thoughts took an even darker turn, remembering every mean thing that had ever been done and said to you.

And as she sat there on her bed, thinking 'bout what those girls said, tears streamed from her eyes, she cried...

You thought it would get better. Your father was gone, and it couldn't possibly get worse. How wrong you were. You let the tears fall, needing the release of your emotions to help you cope. Keeping him bottled up everyday was only damaging to you, and heaven knows you're damaged enough as it it.