𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐬³ | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

Hours later, I was in the delivery room, gripping Sherlock's hand for dear life, as he pressed his lips against my hair, whispering words of encouragement. Part of me loved the fact that he was here, promising me that it was okay, that I could do it, to just breathe. But the other half of me just wanted to slap him round his ignorant face, telling me to just breathe , like the pain was just a pink candyfloss cloud, fluttering around the pearly sky.

"Just one more push, y/n, come on." He whispered, kissing my cheek. I gripped his hand tighter and he moved his arm around my shoulders. Just think of Sherlock, I thought, which was actually a great method, as it filled me with both undying love and anger, which is just what you need when trying to push an actual human through a rather small hole. Who the hell thought child birth was a good idea?

I was gasping, whimpering and I focused on my husband next to me, whose breathing steadied my own, whose warm hands clasped my own, whose heart completed my own. And with that final thought, I pushed hard, and felt my body lighten. A sudden ear-piercing cry broke through the air, and I grinned, leaning my tired head against Sherlock's chest.

He kissed my head and said, "they're here. Our baby's here."

I watched as the midwife cleaned the tiny human up and wrapped them in a warm blue blanket.

It was a boy.

"It's a boy...I have a son," I heard Sherlock cry next to me and looked up to see tears flowing down his cheeks.

The midwife handed me the teeny bundle of pink and blue, and as he was placed in my shaking arms, every fear I had melted away. I gazed into his crystal blue eyes, just like his father's, and allowed the tears to slip. We watched each other and I stroked his little fist, in awe and in love. The weight of him in my arms completed me, like the last piece of a puzzle slotting into place. After meeting Sherlock, I was sure that the room in my heart was filled, with an undying love. When I found out that I was pregnant, I was sure that I could never love the baby as much as I loved Sherlock. But God, I had been so wrong. My heart had grown, beating for both my son and my soul mate. I smiled, watching the perfect little boy in my arms. "Everything I am, is everything you are. You are so loved, and I will prove it, every single day. I love you so much," I whispered, kissing his head.

"God, y/n, he's so perfect," Sherlock gasped, stroking our son's cheek, " of course he is he's half you."

"And half you," I sighed, exhausted.

"Mm, that's what makes him perfect," Sherlock muttered, as I laughed, shaking my head.

"Have you got a name yet?" The old midwife asked, watching us fondly. Sherlock sighed next to me, but I smiled,

"I have something in mind."