BBC Sherlock imagines

Two dads and a mum

John was on his way home, upset after a long day at work. It was the one year anniversary of Mary's death, and it was hitting him hard. In the year, however, he and Rosie had moved back into 221b and, although neither of them would admit it, him and Sherlock had ' 'something' happening between them. On a number of occasions, they had had moments where they both felt something,very..new. He reached Baker Street and walked straight past mrs Hudson's apartment, ignoring her greeting and stomped up the stairs, shoved his key in the door and forced his way into the flat, slamming the door behind him. He didn't greet his daughter, as he usually did and sat straight down on his chair, not saying a word. Rosie was now just older than 1 and could now toddle about, small lengths at a time and was beginning to babble, but no actual English so far. John began to rub his temples with his fingers and Sherlock grew worried. He'd already deduced that it had been a bad day after the text he received from John earlier; but this was a new level. It took him moments to realise what day it was and one glance towards the calendar confirmed it. Sherlock stood up and picked up Rosie. The two of them had grown very close since Sherlock now looked after her during the day when John was at work- and although he would never admit it, Sherlock saw himself as another parent to Rosie, not replacing Mary but simply filling a role she had left behind. Sherlock took her into the kitchen and sat her in her high chair which was in view of the living room and handed her a toy to keep her occupied. He then returned to the living room and sat down in his chair opposite John, and simply looked at him with his rare kind eyes, showing him that he was there. Sherlock was never particularly good with empathy or situations like this but he tried his best for John. John adverted his gaze from the floor and looked up at Sherlock, tears forming in his eyes. "How are you calm?" He said with unintentional anger "how can anyone be calm in this world, where nothing good ever lasts."  Sherlock just looked at him, half with sympathy but half with hurt, he didn't like seeing John like this and didn't understand why he was mad at him. John sighed, " I'm sorry. It's just that today it's-" Sherlock cut him off "I know." One of the tears that had been filling up in his eyes fell but John quickly wiped it away, not wanting to cry in front of Sherlock. "It's ok, you know, to cry. It's ok to cry, don't hold it back" and that was all John needed, he broke right there and then. The tears fell from his eyes like waterfalls and loud sobs escaped his mouth at first but after just a short while they turned silent, the energy leaving his body. Sherlock got up, checked on Rosie who hadn't noticed anything, and sat on the arm of John's chair. Not sure what to do he placed a hand on John's shoulder and John turned to him and without thinking he buried himself in Sherlock's waist. A sudden wave of compassion hitting him, Sherlock  grabbed John and pulled him up into a proper hug and held him until his breathing slowed and he stopped shaking. Tears still fell but he was calm. John pulled away slightly and looked up at Sherlock, glossy eyed. He reached up and placed a hand around the back of Sherlock's neck and the other in his hand. Sherlock was a bit confused but went with it. John mumbled something that couldn't be made out and began to lean in, still obtaining eye contact. When Sherlock finally realised what was going on, he leaned back out of the way. "I'm sorry but you're  upset. You're not thinking clearly and I don't want it like that. I'll be more than happy to kiss you John Hamish Watson, but only when your head is in the right place." And with that, Rosie perked up  she had noticed the tears in John's eyes and as any child would do became confused and worried. "Dada?" She said, concerned. They both grinned at her first word. "Well done Rosie, where's dada?" Sherlock said in the high pitched baby voice he used with Rosie. Rosie put down her toy and with both hands pointed at both John and Sherlock; Sherlock went pink but John just smiled. "Well done, baby girl. What about mummy?" He asked. Rosie reached up to be taken out of her chair and she toddled over to the fireplace where a photo of Mary stood. She pointed at it proudly. "Mummy" she said. "Two dads and a mum, isn't she lucky" John said, smirking up at a slightly flustered Sherlock.
The rest of the evening was spent with Sherlock comforting John on the sofa as Rosie slept upstairs. It wasn't perfect but they didn't need perfect, just each other- and Rosie.