John and Mary Watson sit in the waiting room. He taps his foot on the hard, slippery floor while Mary rests her head on his shoulder. The two of them cannot keep the smile of their faces when they see Sherlock round the corner.
John stands up. " Thank god, I didn't think you would c-"
" Where is she?" Sherlock demands desperately.
John nods towards the room a few feet away, and Sherlock finds himself sprinting towards it. He reaches it, pauses, and through the crack in the door, he sees Molly, bent over a tiny, pink bundle.
He can't help himself.
He's not controlling it.
His feet move.
Molly looks up, the noise of his feet alerting her. When she sees Sherlock, her eyes well up with tears. A strangled sob escapes her lips, and she sees Sherlock's eyes soften a slight touch. His steely glare is gone.
" I'm sorry, Molly," he says sincerely. He flops backwards into the chair beside her bed and searches did words. But as he stares at Molly and the bundle, they abandon him.
" W-would you like to hold him?" she asks, finally working up the courage. To her surprise, Sherlock nods, but after confiding in her he doesn't know how to hold a baby, she shows him.
" She's tiny," he whispers as he watches his daughter, reaching out a shaking finger to stroke her reddened face.
Molly smiles caringly. " Five pounds exactly. A bit small, but perfect none the less. I can't decide on a name, though." She yawns tiredly. She leans up a little to kiss Sherlock's cheek, hovering over his cheek after, then falling back into the pillows, asleep.
Sherlock smiles, then looks back down to his daughter. " Easy to love," he says quietly.
It's true.
It is easy.
It's the easiest thing he's done in his life.
----------------------------------------------------
Hello there!
This is it! The end! I have had such an amazing time writing this that I'm working on a sequel. I'll post a note on this story when I'm actually posting it!
Please vote and comment letting me know how it was!
Thank you so much for sticking with me!
- sugarpills.
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Fanfiction" I'm pregnant." Two words, ten letters. He counts them once, twice, checks to make sure he's heard correctly thrice. He has. She's pregnant.
