Sherlock's Near Death Experience
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.
"I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, Penelope."
If there was one thing Sherlock did consistently, it was show his daughter affection; he wanted his daughter to know that she was loved and adored by her parents, dissimilar to his own childhood where the only affection he received was through Mycroft and that stopped when he was seven.
Penelope Holmes beamed at her father as she peered at him from across the table. He was slicing up two apples to accompany their lunch of peanut butter and banana sandwiches and milk.
And then to her horror, Sherlock's knife slipped and he sliced through his finger. "Oh Christ," Sherlock exclaimed, jumping away from the table. Penelope watched as a few droplets of blood dropped on the table before Sherlock left the room, going to the bathroom.
For a moment, she held absolutely still. Then when the tears began pouring from her eyes, she jumped from her place and raced around the table to get Sherlock's phone. Both he and Molly sat down with her and explained that if there was ever an emergency, she should get a phone and call 999. They also showed her how to operate both of their iPhone in cased she would ever need to contact her parents, John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, or Mycroft.
Penelope knew that this was an emergency, but she also knew that her father was in dire need of a doctor, so she searched through her father's contacts until she found John Watson.
He answered on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Uncle John!" Penelope cried, wiping at her eyes as the tears fell heavily.
"What's wrong sweetheart? Are you alright?"
"It's daddy!" she exclaimed. "Blood everywhere!"
There was silence for a moment, and then John said, "Is your daddy there?"
"Y-yeah. Mummy and Daddy told me to call for help in 'mergencies! He needs a doctor!"
"Is he able to talk on the phone? Can I talk to him?"
Penelope didn't respond, just clutched the phone tightly in her hand and ran after her father. She skidded to a halt in the bathroom and saw her father sitting on the edge of the toilet with a towel wrapped around his hand. She shakily passed the phone to Sherlock. "Uncle John…"
Sherlock was alarmed to see the tears running down his daughter's cheeks and the unease radiating from her small body. She just watched him as he took the phone. "What?" Sherlock was quiet for a moment and then said, "I just cut my finger while making her lunch." He arched an eyebrow and looked down at Penelope as she shuffled from foot to foot, a fist pressed against her mouth to stop her cries. "There was a bit of blood, but it's not everywhere." He was quiet again and then said, "It doesn't need sutures, a plaster will suffice." After another lengthy pause, Sherlock said goodbye and placed his phone beside him.
"Penelope, come here."
Penelope all but jumped into his arms, clutching his shirt and sobbing almost uncontrollably. "I don't want you to die!"
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sherlock murmured, rubbing her back with his uninjured hand. "It's just a cut."
It took a few minutes of consoling before Penelope was able to calm down and stop crying. She pulled out of their embrace slowly. "Can I see?"
Sherlock carefully unwrapped the towel and showered her the cut. It stopped bleeding. "Do you want to help Daddy put a plaster on it?"
Penelope nodded her head and Sherlock smiled at her reassuringly before standing up, popping her onto the sink. Then he reached down into the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out Molly's well stocked first aid kit. Between the two of them, Sherlock's finger was cleaned and bandaged. After the kit was put away, Sherlock carefully wiped away his daughter's tears and kissed her forehead. "I'll be okay, Bumblee," he murmured, using the affectionate nickname he gave her when she was born.
Penelope kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm happy."
He nuzzled the top of her head before picking her up and adjusting her so she was resting on his hip. Penelope rested her face against his shoulder. "Why don't we clean up the mess in the kitchen and then visit Mummy at work for lunch?"
Penelope nodded her head and clutched her father's shirt in her hands. She refused to sit in the chair and wait for him, so he managed to clean the kitchen one handed. When the remnants of their lunch was thrown away and the blood was cleaned up, Penelope allowed her dad to help her into her small jacket, and then she clung to him once again, not wanting to ever let him go.
BB/N: Hello! Sorry this is a bit late. This is day 18 of the One-a-Day Challenge. I'll try and play catch up either today or tomorrow! Thank you for reading and reviewing this story! :)