The Watson-Holmes (Sequel To The Perfect Cradle)

The End of the Beginning

Sherlock awoke with a pain in his back and a wandering thought in his mind that made him wonder what went wrong all those months ago. John was asleep next to him, his chest slowly rising and falling while he peacefully slept.

The detective smiled, kissing his husband's cheek before crawling out of bed and going to make himself some tea. He wrapped his dressing gown tighter around his waist before walking out to the kitchen and putting the kettle on. Sherlock sighed before walking out to the sitting room and watching his city come to life in the early hours of the morning, opening the window to grab a breath of London air he so desperately craved.

"Feeling a bit sentimental are we?" A familiar voice asked, wrapping their arms around the detective's chest and kissing his shoulder blade.

"I have the right to. It's a special day." Sherlock responded, sighing before hearing the kettle boil and leaving his husband's grasp to tend to his tea. "How did you sleep?"

"Never did." John said, the room falling silent for a brief moment as Sherlock stopped pouring the water into their mugs at his surprising answer.

"Why didn't you? You need your sleep more than me now." Sherlock replied, handing John his mug before sitting across from him at the dining table.

"I don't think I'll need too much of it for much longer." The blogger said with a smile, twisting his lip and playing with the tea bag that was placed in his mug. Sherlock didn't quite put two and two together before John rolled his eyes and got up to retrieve something from their bedroom. The blogger returned with an opened letter in his hand and the smallest of smiles on his face.

"What's this?" Sherlock asked, taking the letter from John's outstretched hand and reading it once, twice, then a third time after not believing what he read. "Is this what I think it is?"

"As of yesterday, I am cancer free." John's voice wavered, barely able to contain the tears of joy that were about to spill from his eyes. Sherlock dropped the letter and, with mouth agape in surprise, he leaped from his chair and into John's arms; also barely able to contain his tears.

"John Hamish Watson-Holmes, you are by far the bravest and most endearing man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing." Sherlock separated to grab his husband's head in his hands and gaze deep into his eyes, looking for any other emotion other than happiness but there was nothing to find. "You are the definition of resilience. I love you so much." He finished with a sloppy kiss to his lips as John gladly accepted the offer.

"What's all the fuss about?" Violet asked, voice hoarse and eyes droopy from sleep, as she entered the room with Hamish trailing right behind her. The older child thought it would be a good idea to grow out his curls when in reality he just looked like a member of Led Zeppelin. He had his hair tied into a messy bun that sat lopsided on his head while Violet always kept hers in a braid that cascaded halfway down her back.

"Morning you two. We have some amazing news." John added, wiping away his tears before looking to Sherlock to tell them what the fuss actually was about. The taller man kneeled down before them with a smile on his face.

"Papa is cancer free." Sherlock could barely get the words out before both kids attacked John with hugs and tears of joy as they didn't even hesitate to shower him with kisses of affection following with words of encouragement with things such as "we're proud of you, papa" and "we couldn't be happier for you". The detective watched his husband be appreciated for his strength this last year had brought him and realizing he couldn't be happier about his life; despite the circumstances they're under this particular day.

"Papa is by far the most courageous man I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and making my husband." Sherlock strolled over to John before wrapping his arms around the bloggers neck and bringing him close for a kiss on the lips that lasted long and hard and would've had them running for the bedroom if the kids weren't screaming "eww" and "yuck" all while fake-gagging and giggling at the same time.