athena ➢ sherlock's daughter

Chapter 5

Greg, and Athena Hates Corpses

Athena Holmes briskly walked behind her father as they headed straight into the crime scene together. Everyone was looking at them because "who the hell was the kid and why was she with Sherlock Holmes?"

A man with greying hair in a suit (that looked like it came from Sears from the seams and the 40%/60% Polyester-Cotton blend) approached Sherlock with a rather confused and reprimanding look, glancing back at Athena multiple times. Of course, he was the head of Scotland Yard. The looks of respect that crossed the others' faces made it obvious.

"Sherlock, who is that?" he hissed.

"Relax, George. That's my daughter," Sherlock assured.

"It's Greg," he corrected. "And I can't let you take a teenager in there."

But Sherlock was already walking away, not realizing that Athena was still standing with Greg. "My apologies, sir. Had I known, I would've stayed with John." Then, remember her manners, her eyebrows shot upward. "Oh! I'm Athena Holmes. Sherlock's daughter- as you now know," she grinned, offering her hand.

Greg smiled and shook it. "Greg Lestrade. Head of Scotland Yard and, even though he won't admit it, one of Sherlock's friends."

She couldn't help but notice how calloused his hands were- probably from working with a gun for so long. The soft wrinkles that came with his middle age gave her the hint that he hand to have been in is late forties. Pulling her hand away, she analyzed the rest of his appearance as she absently said, "Oh? I didn't know Sherlock had any friends aside from John..."

His hair was tousled and unkempt, which complimented the dark bags under his brown eyes. He obviously hadn't had much sleep in the past week. She could sympathize easily. His complexion looked tired and worn- stress, most likely. But why?

Was he married? ....yes. There was a ring on his finger.

But the ring was dirty on the outside. Unhappy then.

She couldn't smell any perfume. His wife hadn't been around in a while, then. Why was that?

Stubble on his chin and neck, jittery movements, distant and sad look in his eyes.... She was cheating on him. Couldn't have been the first time either, by the way he was hiding it so well.

As Greg began to speak, a few seconds later, Athena zoned back into the conversation. "He doesn't even like to admit being friends with John at times, really. He can be quite the machine. But I know that deep down he cares."

She knew exactly what he was talking about when he said that Sherlock could be a machine. Over the couple of weeks she had been staying there, there were times that Sherlock grew cold, unreachable, and unfeeling. He hardly seemed human at all. It was during those times that she spent nearly every moment with John or a book. "I know what you mean," she sighed. "He's like that at home sometimes too."

Greg's features contorted to that of frustration and indignation. "I'll get someone to talk to him next time. You just let me know, okay?"

Athena bit back a comment and smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Athena!" Sherlock yelled from behind her. "Come quick! I want you to observe some things."

She sent him a thumbs up and turned back to Greg, an excited glint in her eye. "Lovely meeting you."

He smiled kindly. "You too. Drop by the Yard anytime- I'm sure you'll be there a lot anyway because of Holmes."

"Thank you!"

"Athena!"

She cast Greg a sheepish smile before dashing off to her father's side at the front door of the house.

∞

"No signs of forced entry," she said immediately. "Nowhere they could have escaped."

"Good," Sherlock said. "Look further."

Athena's eyes searched the ground quickly. Everything seemed nearly untouched, though it was hard to tell with all the police blundering about, possibly moving evidence.

She kept scanning the room slowly- until her eyes landed on the victims. Their throats were slit open.

Athena's face drained of all blood and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. Nausea swept through her and made her stomach jump and heart pound.

She was gasping for breath now, clutching Sherlock's arm, who contorted his face to mirror the confusion and disgust he felt.

And that was the moment when she lost consciousness.