I Still Remeber John Watson's Daughter

Chapter 35 Missing Train Car

A/N: OMG! It's been forever since I worked on this story. WOrk has been keeping me busy. I feel like all I do anymore is work and sleep and repeat. Made this one extra long to make up for the wait. Enjoy

The next day John came to visit us. He hadn't been to the flat since Sherlock faked his death. When he arrived Sherlock ushered his parents out the door. "Sherlock, sweetie," I said in a tone that said I disapproved. I liked his parents. Before Sherlock could shut the door in their face, his mother shoved her foot in the door. God, I liked that woman. 

"I can't tell you how glad we are Sherlock. All that time people thinking the worst of you." I saw Sherlock glance back at me and John who had his back to Sherlock. "We're just so pleased it's all over."

"Ring up more often, won't you?" Mr. Holmes asked and Sherlock hummed in agreement. "She worries."

"I worry too," I said coming to wrap my arms around Sherlock's waist. His parents both smiled at me. I think they were glad Sherlock and I had found each other. We needed each other. I was also able to accept him for him, quirks, and everything.

"Promise?" his mother asked. Sherlock glanced at John, as though he was worried John could hear him.

Sherlock leaned in closer to his mother, "Promise," he said quietly. She reached up to stroke his cheek but Sherlock moved just slightly, "Oh, for God," Sherlock trailed off as he slammed the door. "Sorry about that," Sherlock apologized to John.

Sherlock told John that was his parents when he asked if that had been a client. 

"In town for a few days," Sherlock said. I watched the two talk properly for the first time in over a week. My doctors were pissed at me as I had justled my ribs out of place last night pulling John out of the wood pile. They were already pretty beat up from the Siberia mission.

"Your parents?" John asked again. I rolled my eyes. He was he expecting something different for Sherlock's parents?

"Mycroft promised to take to them a matinee of Les Mis. Tried to talk me into doing it."

"Those were your parents?" John asked again looking out the window.

"Yes," Sherlock answered. I laughed at John trying to figure out why Sherlock's parents seemed so normal. I regretted the laugh as it hurt. John looked at me laughing on the sofa and crying in pain as I clutched my ribs.

"Well," John said chuckling slightly, "that is not what I..."

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"I-I mean they're just...so..." John trailed off as Sherlock and I fixed him with a hard glare. "ordinary," John finished.

"It's a cross I have to bear," Sherlock replied. John chuckled slightly. They were like grandparents to me as mine were dead. They spoiled me rotten.

"Did they know too?" John asked. Sherlock hummed in response but wouldn't meet his eyes and took my hand. I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles. "That you spent the last two years playing hide and seek."

Maybe," Sherlock replied.

"Ah! So that's why they weren't at the funeral," John said. I pulled Sherlock's hand up to my face and kissed it. I knew this hurt him, even if no one else saw it.

"Sorry. Sorry again," Sherlock said defensively. John made a cynical sound and moved for the door. "Sorry," Sherlock said softly stopping John in his tracks. "See you shaved it off, then."

"Yeah. Wasn't working for me," John replied.

"Mm, I'm glad."

"What, you didn't like it?"