𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐬³ | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

"I barely see you anymore! Have you stopped to think, for just one second, that while you're running about London, being Mr Pretentious, I'm sat at home, freaking out and panicking and worrying?" I exclaimed, anger boiling.

"I can't just ring up the criminals and ask them to take a day off, you know!" Sherlock replied, one leg out the door.

"So is this what it's going to be like when the baby comes? You're just going to leave me, every day, with an infant to look after? Because that's what it feels like. It feels like you're just going to leave. Every time I need you, you just leave."

"Don't be stupid, y/n! You know that I'll never leave-"

"I used to believe that when you said it, but then you went and faked your death, leaving me alone for two years!" Tears were streaming down my face now, both out of anger and fear. Sherlock glared at me,

"I get that you're upset, okay? I get that you're scared. But I have a job to do, I can't just take a day off-"

"Why? Why not? I'm not asking for you to be here every day, I'm just asking for you to stay with me for more than five hours a week!"

"But my work is more important, y/n!" Hurt settled into my eyes, and Sherlock saw, instantly filling his own with regret. His tone softened. "Y/n, I didn't me-"

"Oh, I think you did mean it. Your work is more important. That's fine. Go ahead, leave."

Sherlock stood in the doorway, watching me as I crossed my arms. He shook his head, snatched his coat off the peg and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Sniffling, I leaned against the counter, pulling my cardigan tighter around me. Placing my head in my hands, I sighed as a soft knock at the door echoed. I opened it to see John, looking concerned.

"John? Is everything alright?"

He smiled slightly, "actually, I was just coming to ask you the same thing. I, uh, was supposed to be meeting Sherlock to go and look at this case, but he told me he was doing it on his own...looked kind of angry or sad, I don't know, hard to tell with him..." he chuckled and I smiled. He shook his head and reached out his arms. I closed my eyes as I fell into him, his arms holding me as I cried.

"Let's get you in," he said softly and we walked into the lounge.

I turned slowly towards the kitchen, "you want a cup of tea? I'm going to have one anyway."

He smiled, "don't be silly, y/n, sit down and get some rest, I'll make the tea." I sighed appreciatively as he helped me down onto the sofa and made his way over to the kitchen. "So, what happened with you and Sherlock, then?"

"We just had an argument...I said that I felt like I was barely seeing him and I wanted him to stay home..."

"And he said his work was too important?"

Smiling, I nodded.

"Yeah, well that's Sherlock," John chuckled, sitting down next to me as he handed me the tea. "Y/n, don't worry. I know he can be a knob sometimes...but he does love you, he really does. And the baby. God, he never shuts up about you two actually. Always finds a way to make it relevant to the client and always rushing the police to get back to you. He doesn't like leaving you..."

I sighed, guilt flooding in, "I was too hard on him," I said, sipping the warm drink. John shook his head,

"No, you were perfectly reasonable, he's just new with emotions and doe- y/n, are you alright?"

My face had drained of colour, clutching my abdomen.

"Y/n?" John pressed, his hand on my shoulder.

I let out a gasp as another flash of pain ripped from my stomach, sending shocks of pain through my body. "Oh, God, John, I think I'm having contractions."

"Okay, okay, y/n, look at me," he said, his voice calm and collected, "y/n, it's alright."

I suddenly felt something cold leaking through my jogging bottoms and onto the sofa, as an even more intense shock wave of pain rippled through me, "okay, John, I think my waters just broke. Get Sherlock. Please."

John clasped my hand as he held his phone with the other, "Sherlock? Yeah, no- I don't care- no, Sherlock listen to me, you need to get home now. Y/n's gone into labour, her waters have just broken-" His voice cut off suddenly and he turned to me. "He's on his way- he uh, just hung up. Probably going to steal a helicopter, knowing him."

I chuckled, panting. I smiled up at him, as another tsunami of agony crashed upon me, more painful than anything I'd ever experienced. I had desperately tried to keep my mouth closed, but an agonising scream forced itself from between my lips. John moved closer, and wrapped an arm around me.

Five minutes later, when my face was covered in tears and sweat, a raucous booming sound echoed from the floor below and I could hear someone running up the stairs. Much to my relief, Sherlock pushed the door open and I reached for him, smiling despite the pain. "Sher-Sherlock- I'm--- so-- sorry-" I gasped through strangled breaths. He kneeled down and gripped my hand,

"Shh, squeakers. I'm sorry. But I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere." I smiled wider, gripping his hand, and he started to pull me up, holding me tight as another contraction tore from my stomach, leaving me shaking and whimpering. Sherlock held me tighter.

"Sherlock, I've got my car waitin-" John began, but Sherlock cut him off;

"That's nice, but I've got a helicopter waiting, and that's much faster."

John and I laughed, as Sherlock gently scooped me up and carried me down the stairs and through the door, where a small helicopter awaited.

"I'm--pretty--sure-you---can't----park-a--helicopter--in-central--London," I said.

Sherlock grinned, "it's Mycroft, he's the Government and can do what he likes."