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Prologue

Title: Prologue

Word count: 1,586

Characters: John Watson and Matilda May

Warnings: Hints of abuse, unedited.

Notes: So here’s the prologue of my Sherlock story. It’s shorter compared to the next chapter I’m currently working on. If there are any triggers please tell me so I can add them to the tags. I haven’t edited it yet so take all typos and grammar mistakes with a grain of salt.

———

The waiting room was nothing like she'd imagined it being. It was small and crowded. Crowded with sick adults and sick children. It appeared each and every seat was filled by someone. Not everyone was sick but they were clearly afflicted with some sort of ailment or issue, very few appeared to only be in for a casual check up. Every now and then a nurse would come call out a name and off the patient in question went. They'd disappear behind the plain painted blue doors.

At least the waiting room had some form of entertainment for the young children. A small flat screen hanging from the wall about the children's area. She'd seen it on her way in, mutedly broadcasting Peppa Pig, that hadn't interested her in the slightest. Instead she focused her attention on the floor, head down trying to bring as little attention to herself as she possibly could.

She didn't dare touch the toys. Not only were they colourfully decorated breeding grounds for germs, they weren't hers. And she'd been rigorously taught, never touch what doesn't belong to you.

So she sat. Sat amongst the grownups in the room. Her neighbour seated to her right a complete stranger seated to her left.

A sharp acidic smell burned her nostrils. An unmistakable mixture of both cheap booze and classless cigarettes. She had a hunch the foul smelling stranger beside her engaged in the distasteful hobbies as her father.

She wanted to look, to just sneak a peek at the person beside her, but again that was something she knew better than to do. So she kept her eyes, those deep, earthy brown orbs, trained on her old trainers. They were so worn, her big toe was pushing its way through her right toe cap.

All she could do was sit and listen to the gentle repetitive tune of the wait rum music. It's soft rhythmic hum provided some comfort. It was enough to relax the poor girl's tense muscles. She didn't want to be there. She couldn't be there. But there she was and she felt utterly sick.

It was her well to do neighbour who'd made the appointment. The young woman claimed she wanted to ease some of the weight off the girl's busy father's shoulders. The child had had questions but thought it better not to ask them. She should have been more bold. Then perhaps she wouldn't be there.

Her neighbour, Cartia Hennigan, was a lovely young woman approaching her early thirties. She often meant well but had a tendency to overstep her bounds. Nonetheless, the little girl couldn't help but feel pity for the woman. Cartia, all her kindness and charity was nothing more than a façade, covering her great loneliness.

The little girl twiddles her thumbs, replaying the unfortunate event that landed her little butt in the stiff plastic chair. I have to be less of myself, she swore, this never would have happened if I had.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Her forehead throbbed, as if her brain was protesting. Her rational analysis was fighting against her self blame. She massaged her temple with her left index and middle fingers, pressing her right arm tightly against her stomach. It didn't help.

She sat straight, mimicking the posture of a proud queen, eyes still shut, she placed her palms on her knees gripping the fabric of her pant leg. In times of great distress she often found it best to disappear. Unfortunately, unlike the deep sea pelagic octopod she couldn't actually become invisible. She could retreat to the quiet sanctity of her own mind.

Some people retreat to what they call a "happy place". Her? Well... At least she had some place all her own, where the world would slowly fade away.

"Matilda Hennigan.”

Her little head flew up, eyes snapping to the kindly nurse standing in the door separating the waiting room from the rest of the clinic.

Her eyes darted to Cartia who was already standing, walking toward the blue, aluminum trim door. Her eyes widened, pupils anxiously constricting, she quickly pushed herself out of her seat then hurriedly followed after her neighbor.

When she finally reached the door she cast one more nervous glance up at her neighbor. "Shall we?" the nurse smiles warmly and holds the door open wider for the two to enter.

JWJWJW

Matilda sat on at the practice table hands folded like so, neatly rested on her lap. She had to admit this wasn't going as terrible as she'd originally envisioned it going. From what her father had told her, the doctors clinic was an utterly awful place reserved for terrible, no good people. And Matilda was certain she wasn't a terrible person. Or at least she tried not to be.

Her dad mustn't have done his research or had to have been thinking of another clinic. This one was adequate.

The nurse was nice enough. Mary? Yes, that was her name.

She was kind, she made the tedious tests Matilda was forced to endure more bearable. She'd commented on how cute Matilda purple pink polka dotted leggings were. And even promised the little girl a lollipop before she left.

Mary did however seem suspicious when Cartia explained the reason for her bringing Matilda to the clinic in the first place. Matilda wasn't sure why, maybe the explanation sounded weird. It was rather silly. She shouldn't have been playing so close to the stairs.

Matilda tried not to vocalise her disappointment when Mary left to retrieve the doctor, but failed accidentally letting slip a small puppy like whimper. It was unintentional and it bothered her.

Now she sat in the room, not quite alone, with her neighbour. Matilda hated the dressing gown. It left her exposed, back half vulnerable and visible.

At the very least if she moved in front of the mirror she could count how many freckles dotted her skin back there. Maybe like her forehead, nose, and cheeks they formed shapes in a connect the dots kind of way.

Matilda pushes herself up and jumps to the floor. Pain sliced upward like a swift blade through her left ankle. This unbalanced her making her landing less than perfect she ignored the feeling knowing the pain would subside momentarily. Then under the critically watchful eyes of Cartia, she pressed forward across the room toward the only thing that interested her. At least now that Mary was gone.

It was like most things in the public clinic, cheap, only standing about two Tildas tall. Matilda, standing a little less than an arms length away from the mirror, extended an arm gently resting her hand on the smooth reflective glass. It felt cool, good against her skin.

She stared at her reflection, eyes narrowing. She angled her body to one side. She didn't get why both Cartia and Mary seemed worried. She thought she looked fine.

Two rich brown eyes sparkled back at her - the colour of the earth after long torrential rains. Freckles dotted her face, like a chaotic mess of chipped marble. Matilda loved her freckles. A tumble of stringy blonde hair, with dark brown roots, messily pulled back into a low lopsided pony-tail hung between her shoulder blades. Yeah she looked fine.

Hold on. Matilda rolled her tongue across her cheek. There was a jagged cut that'd scabbed over on the right side of her temple, giving her a Harry Potter esque mark.

Matilda frowned, noticing the somewhat sickening shade of blackish blue on her skin, creeping out from beneath the neck lining of her dressing gown. Matilda pulled her collar down revealing a dark purple bruise spreading from the lower half of her neck to her shoulder.

Matilda could feel a lump form in her throat. Still... nothing to worry about. Bruises fade. She shouldn't have played so close to the stairs.

JWJWJW

Matilda heard the door open and shut, it's swift creaking noise made her arms go rigid.

The Doctor entered in a cable crew neck sweater and dark almost black jeans, his pepper salted hair was closely cropped. He had a face like some guy that'd seen much pain, and suffered much loss.

"Hello." Greeting the two, he had the posture of a soldier but after shaking hands with Cartia he visibly relaxed. "What's your name?" His voice came out like he'd just pulled a double shift the day prior, only functioning because he was running on six cups of tea.

Whilst he exchanged casual pleasantries Cartia, Matilda mindfully walked around him back to her seat at the practice table.

She knew how to keep a poker face, even in uncomfortable situations. As she went she observed the doctor carefully, eyes critically analysing every last detail of the pale man. Matilda bit her inner cheek. She'd found it was always best to keep her final findings to herself. Kept her out of trouble.

Dr. Watson gave a brief look at his clipboard before turning to Matilda. Already still, she felt a tight knot form in her chest, under his gaze. He knelt in front of Matilda, allowing her to see the stethoscope draped round his neck. Her first thought, strangulation hazard.

She leaned back sitting further in your seat. "Hey there, you must be Matilda." Her breathing stopped momentarily as the man extended his hand out for her to shake. "What a lovely name." He gave her a smile that just seemed so genuinely sweet. "I'm your doctor, Doctor Watson."

——————

I actually really enjoyed writing this story and it might be the one I chose to continue. I’ve seen stories where Sherlock has a child but none with John and so I’m writing this. Her name is Matilda in honour of my favourite reading character as a child. I hope she lives up to her namesake. She doesn’t have a last name as far as anyone thus far is aware hence her name being Matilda May. Her first name and second middle name. I do enjoy this story but am considering another for front runner of the year.

Pushing Up Daisies Headcanons

Disclaimer: Pushing Up Daisies it just a working title at the moment, and so is the child’s name.

Her full name is actually Charlotte-June Hargreeves.

Charlotte was born when Five was 54. The result of a rather drunk and poor decision.

Her parents do not get along to they agreed she'd have two first names one they each liked.

Five rotating between denial and trepidation after Charlotte’s mother shares the "good news".

Five and her mother are bitter rivals and Charlotte's creation makes things even more rigid.

Five surprisingly being elated the day Charlotte is born, July 4th 1960. The first time he holds her in his arms he can feel his world brighten.

Charlotte is his world now.

Five having to leave her for his Commission work, which pains him.

Charlotte’s mother leaves her. She’s raised in the incapable hands of her aunt Maggie in Decorah, Iowa, during the 1960's.

Charlotte proudly being apart of team normal for a time.

He sneaks away every now and then to see his daughter on the farm.

This dude makes a big deal when his little girl makes him a ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug for fathers day. It looks like shit but it's his shit.

He's still a sarcastic asshole but he at least tries to filter himself around Charlotte. (Though he still ends up cursing around her a lot.)

Five adores Charlotte’s pure innocence, she hasn’t yet been exposed to the real cruelties of the world, he intends to shield her from them for as long as possible.

Charlotte’s aunt hates his visits, she says he's a bad influence.

Charlotte finds gifts left for her randomly all over the place, all the time.

He's very attached to Charlotte though he'll rarely admit it to anyone. And while he doesn't talk about it she knows she’s loved.

Five has to make adjustments to his time traveling plans so he can bring his daughter with him.

Charlotte’s dad "borrowing" her. Taking her on his Kennedy assisanation assignment. (So she’s there when he leaves the commission.)

Charlotte initially freaks out at first when her dad becomes a thirteen year old asshole and she surronded by people she’s never met, in an all new time period.

All of the Hargreeves losing there minds over Charlotte-June H. Not just because of her existence but she’s so freakin adorable and precious.

If anyone gives Charlotte shit Five will not hesitate in destroying them.

No Context Dialogue

"Don't worry... It's not strawberry jelly."

So I apparently really enjoy writing headcanons for my ocs. It's a good way to organize my thoughts on certain concepts or characters without giving everything away. So I plan on doing more of those.

I also hope to publish at least one reader insert story. I've never done one so it'll be a first for me. I don't even know what fandom I want to write it for. Eh. I'll figure it out.

Stay kind.

No Context Dialogue

"Hey, don't dig up the orchids playing your little game!"

"Not playing a game!"

Kindergarten Dialogue #001

Adult A:“1 would you like it if they were leaving you out and being mean?”

Kid 1: “Yes, I love crying!”

forget slow burn romance, give me slow burn found family. give me enemies to friends to siblings. tired, weary old mentors learning to live again for their plucky young apprentices. heroes sharing apartments after world saving adventures because they’re so used to living with each other. dramatic “oh shit” moments where someone gets kidnapped and the other realizes “god, that’s my kid.” i want to sit and watch in agony for thirty chapters while two idiots slowly adopt each other, someone get on it

Kindergarten Dialogue #002

Adult: “You can’t just bury everything down.”

Kid: “You can’t. I have a shovel.”

Stand by Me Headcanons

Warnings: mentions of sexual abuse, child abuse, and trafficking.

I really do have too many ideas in my head and not enough time to write full stories for them all. So here’s another oc I made awhile back. For Criminal Minds. Of course this is again platonic.

This little girl was born in Grants, New Mexico. However at two weeks her mother disappeared and her father moved them to Harbor Springs, Maine to be closer to “friends.”

Her father is in no way a good person.

By age two she was sleeping on the floor in the basement with a series of other children. She was always the youngest and only girl.

Wondering why the other children got taken when new people came around.

Despite the circumstances the boy actually are very protective of the little girl as protective as they can be.

She develops a brother sister relationship with most of the boys.

They can’t protect her forever.

At age three she’s violated for the first time by a pair of her father’s “friends.”

This leads to a more within drawn personality, trust issues, and dissociative behavior amongst other things.

Develops a type of Androphobia. A fear of men.

Being less affectionate and trustful to the boys in the basement though they’ve done nothing wrong.

At age four her father and the guys face some heat for their trafficking ring and decide to get out of dodge.

Amid the chaos another child helps her escape. While she does get far enough to hide in a ditch by the road. The older boy isn’t as lucky.

She’s found by a nice couple and brought into the Police Department.

Complete emotional detachment and dissociative behaviour.

When the department discovers she was one of the trafficked children. Guess who they call to help find the others?

The Behavioural Analysis Unit.

Derek, Spencer, Rossi being the team tasked with investigating the area you were found.

First meeting J.J. as the Hotch suspects the child would be more open to an interview done by her.

She’s not here for it. She just sits in her chair.

Derek, Spencer, Rossi don’t find much, however they find the other child’s hoodie with a name on the tag. ‘Daniel’.

They return to the department to regroup and rethink their approach.

Hotch asks Spence for his opinion on the little girl.

When Spence meets the child for the first time he recognises her stance, and behaviour as dissociative.

He gets some ice cubes.

The child slowly comes back too, immediately bursting in to tears in response to her proximity to Spencer and Hotch.

She attaches herself to J.J., however she still refuses to speak.

Coloring pictures that unintentionally help with case.

Being curious about the man who gave her ice cubes.

Shoelaces headcanons

“I want to write a fanfic for it, about dead kids… In a non morbid way.” ~Me to my college bud.

The concept for my fic is fairly simple. Centering around the question what happens to the children who are unborn? For one reason or another they never truly lived. So they were never good or bad. They are complete blank slates.

Season 1

One of the GP residents was formally a social worker on earth that helped raise millions of dollars for planned parenthood, foster care, and rescued thousands of children from unsafe enivroments.

With Michael and Janet's assistance they decide to continue they're work helping eager couples find their kids and perfect their afterlife families.

Not every couple wants kids so not everyone has a child placed with them.

Chidi seems like a guy who would have liked to have a child. Hence Analiese's placement.

Tahini and Jason don't have a kid. Because that would be torture for the child.

Lysie really throws a wrench in Eleanor's working to become a better person plan. Hard to study being a good when you have to also mascerade as part of the perfect parenting pair.

Lysie is such a blank slate having never lived. All of her personality traits and intrests have to develop.

Her obedient started personality drives Eleanor crazy.

The two aren’t really close.

Ana absolutely adores Chidi, she’s his little shadow for quite awhile.

She does however tire of his indecisiveness often making up his mind for him. In the way a living child would.

“No it’s Ah-na. Not a-nuh!”

This kid can’t tie her shoes.

Eleanor’s negative relationship and actions eventually leads to a glitch in the good place. Having an unwanted effect on Ana’s aging.

Everything corrects it’s self.

After the event. Eleanor’s despite her best efforts grows somewhat attached to Ana.

Ana really isn't a confident child at the start. Eleanor teaches her the value of rebelling a little bit.

This teaching actually leads to Eleanor spending a more time with Ana as she develops a broader personality.

Ana doesn’t understand why Chidi’s teaching Eleanor to be a good person.

Analiese makes so many jokes about the fact that she’s dead.

Ana does what neither Chidi or Eleanor thought to do.

“Janet, please get us the comfiest couch.”

Eleanor teaches Ana how to stuff her pockets with snacks, make a churro donut ice cream cake, and be an over all fun person.

Analiese has a low tolerance for Tahani’s superiority complex.

She thinks Michael is funny.

Eleanor, Chidi, and Ana are very dysfunctional family.

Movie nights with all three of them. Ana picks the movie.

“Why does everyone like Elsa? Anna’s the hero.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Blanket Capes Headcanons

Warnings: none?

(I find myself using Abby Ryder Fortson a lot.) Okay my first ever oc! Yay. I have a text chain spanning the first three and a half seasons for this oc. For so long I haven’t known what to do with her. But now… Eventually I’ll make a short oneshot detailing her first encounter with Barry. Please, please ask questions about this oc. I have so much rant to get out. Now enjoy.

Now rewritten/updated

Theadora Noella-Eve Walker.

Noe was born on December 25th, at 12:01 am.

(One day I’ll write like a first chapter for this headcanon series.)

Thea met Barry at the Central City police department after being picked up for pickpocketing. (It wasn’t her fault.)

She’s a very shy child. Just crumples into a ball in a waiting chair while the officers decide her fate.

Then she meets Barry. She dropped her doll, he picked it up for her.

Barry notices how uncomfortable she is and decides to try to get her to relax.

He’s just his geeky self.

Thea laughs at his goofiness. But only the once, before hiding her head in her knees again.

But then Barry, he has to go back to work.

Just one moment can change everything.

Barry still a bit new to his powers and being well…himself has little impulse control. He offers to foster her upon learning she has no one else.

The first week she living with Barry she practically lived in the family room. Cause her room, Iris’s old room, is scary in the dark and she can form a nest under the coffee table.

This little miss, adores Iris and Joe, very dismissive of Eddie’s existence.

Constantly hungry.

Barry is actually quite patient with her since he remembers what it felt like to feel alone. Since his mother died.

She’s slow to trust, but still loveable peanut.

Thea is possessive of her things. After being on the streets with nothing. She’s protective. Like a Rottweiler puppy. (She has bitten Eddie.)

It’s suspected Thea has autoimmune issues.

Barry is an overprotective foster parent. As he continues to pursue superheroing he racks up a list of enemies. So his protectiveness is understandable.

First time she spells Barry’s name, she spells it Beary

For Christmas she went to a paint place with Iris and painted a heart. When Iris wasn’t looking she put her name on it. It was glazed and Iris never found out. So Thea gave Barry the painted heart for Christmas. She gave him Iris’s heart.

She loves camping, and astronomy. She’s a baby nerd.

Thea is no good sick. Barry isn’t happy when it happens either. She pouts about it for like an hour cause she hates being cooped up inside. Then she camps out in the living room and reads about stars. By the end of the day she’s usually sleeping while snuggling against Barry.

She doesn’t really like sports, she does like watching football with Joe. However, she’s smash at baseball.

Thea doesn’t understand snowball xghts and that your supposed to use soft snow. She uses ice.

After the episodes, “Tricksters” Barry decides, yep, he’s going to begin the long process to officially adopt Thea.

He runs the idea by Iris and she is fully supportive. Iris loves Thea.

Wells firmly suggests that Barry rethink his decision.

Thea passes out after dinner one night. And Barry in a state of panic rushes her to Star Labs.

Wells is strongly against the action.

Caitlin: “Well we know what’s wrong with Theadora.”

Cisco: “This kid is a nuclear reactor, who needs a crazy amount of fuel.”

She needs to eat more calories because like Barry she has a faster metabolism. A way faster metabolism.

You’re a meta-human Thea.