John grabbed Rosie's school bag from the hall. He was concerned that she hadn't shown him anything recently. After all, the day before had been Mother's Day. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of the bottom of the bag.

Dear Mummy,

Where are you? Everybody else has a Mummy who picks them up from school, packs their lunch, and gives them hugs and kisses. Why don't I? It's not that I don't love Daddy. He's amazing, and I love him so much. It's just that I feel different. Are you somebody I know? Are you Molly? Mrs. Hudson? Sherlock? I really don't know where you are, and I need you.

It's not fair that everybody else has a mummy and a daddy, when I only have a daddy. Vivian is really the luckiest of us all. She has two Mummies. It seems like most people's families are the same, but the two of us are different. Sherlock says that different is good, that normal is boring. I just want to be like everybody else. People notice that I don't have a mum, and they ask questions. It's like when people notice Sherlock. I don't like the attention. Why can't I just fit in? If you came back, I would finally be normal. Why can't you come back?

Rosie

Two tears tracked their paths down his face. One for his daughter, who, at the age of eight, already was desperate to be like everybody else. One for his wife. Mary. When she needed him most, he had failed her, and now when he needed her, she wasn't there. He was awful at this.

Rosie walked by, noticing her father's tears. She stood in the doorway for a moment before walking past without saying a word. Was it her fault he was crying? SHe didn't want to think about it.

A/N: This will most likely be my last post on this story for a while. I'm really sorry, but I'm focusing on other stories for a while. If you want to check those out, you can. They're not on Sherlock, though, so… It's been a pleasure writing for you, and huge thanks to everybody who reviewed.