Oh, How the Music Plays

Chapter 1

I groaned and rolled over in my bed, rubbing my eyes. Rosie was crying again; she's been a but ill lately, so was much more needy than usual.
"It's okay, daddy's here now, daddy's here.." I said, in between yawns as I flicked on the light switch. Rosie was stood, her hands rested on the bars of her crib and tears running down her face. As I got nearer to her she raised her arms, clearly asking me to pick her up and I happily obliged.
"Oh, have you got it sorted..?" Asked John as he walked in with a bottle of formula. He smiled at me as he passed the bottle over, and I gently pressed the teat of the bottle to little Rosie's lips and she took it into her mouth.
"You can go back to bed, if you want. I wasn't sleeping anyway" I told John, seeing how tired he was. He nodded his head slightly and turned around, nearly walking into the doorframe and I chuckled to myself. However before he left I heard him mutter something to me, and then he returned to his bedroom.
"I heard you call yourself daddy, again"
Oh. I'd become so accustomed to looking after her with John, I..I suppose it had become natural. I don't think he minded; I saw him smile to himself the first time I'd done it. I hadn't planned it, hadn't thought about it.
Rosie was soon asleep against my chest, her cheek pressed up into tshirt and her fist clenching my dressing gown. With a shrug, I took her with me back into my bedroom and laid her om the bed next to me; she sighed contentedly in her sleep and I smiled, watching as she clenched and unclenched her fists in her sleep.
---
From my room I heard Sherlock walk back to his own, and I decided just to double check on Rosie myself. She wasn't there. Smiling, I turned and gently opened his door to find him lying on his side asleep, and Rosie curled into him, also fast asleep. Once I'd checked my phone was definitely on silent, I quickly captured a photo of the scene, and went back to bed.

The sun filtered hazily through my curtains, specks of dust floating through the rays. Then I heard a squeal come from the front room, and my mind went straight to the worst possible scenarios, as any parent would. I rushed out of bed and stumbled through only to be relieved as I saw Sherlock and Rosie playing pirates; I'm not entirely sure who was enjoying it more, Sherlock really seemed to be getting into it.
"Uncee Sherlock! Walk the plank!" Rosie yelled, swinging a plastic sword and jumping towards Sherlock.
"Be gone, foul beast! Away with ye!" He replied, jumping backwards and up onto the battered old sofa at the back of the room, pretending he was scared. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were the brightest I'd seen in a long time; he always had wanted to be a pirate. Rosie was happy to oblige.
"Toast?"
"Starving."