[Complete]
Sherlock was not one for relationships. Ever. No exceptions.
Well...maybe one.
Melody Winters was the one person to turn the Consulting Detectives head, despite being just about the only one not intending to. So what happens when Melody...
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Sherlock just stood there. That's all he could do. Everyone else had already left, the burial already over. He didn't even try to stop the tears that were silently streaming down his face. Because what was the point? He thought. In his mind, there was none. No point in even trying to stop his emotions, because he was completely and utterly broken. He wondered for a moment if this was what John felt like when he 'died.' Because if that was the case, then it was shit. This feeling of absolute numbness. Not even when he turned his emotions off, did he feel like this. The emptiness had completely consumed him in the past weeks, and the only thing he could do was stand there.
As for John, well he felt helpless. The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for Sherlock. Be there for him. Because in the end, that's all he could do. All Sherlock would let him do. He wasn't used to seeing this side of him, he wasn't sure that anyone was. Not even Mycroft. Not even his parents. Not his best friend. And John would have left him alone, he would have. Had it not been a danger night. Well, it wasn't even a night. A danger month. A couple of months. So despite Sherlock's bouts of anger, his fits, his tantrums, John stayed. Because he couldn't let Sherlock spiral into the bottomless pit of drugs. Not again. Because it was going to be harder this time. It wasn't just boredom. In fact, it wasn't boredom at all. It was all of the emotion rushing around inside him. And even though Sherlock felt empty, even though he felt numb, he didn't want to feel anything. He didn't want to be alive if she wasn't by his side.
This is her story. Melody's story.
~
Seven months earlier - 27th of June 2019
"What shall we name it?" Melody asked, her head resting on Sherlock's chest. Her hand intertwined with his, the tips of his fingers feathering over her knuckles. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. This was what he wanted it to be like for the rest of his life. Small moments like this, scattered throughout his lifeline.
"If it's a girl - Freya, and if it's a boy - Luke," Sherlock whispered back. They were both on the brink of sleep, but forcing themselves to stay awake. This state of euphoria was the only place that either of them wanted to be. It was bliss, and it only existed between the two of them. "I'm actually very excited." He said in a hushed tone.
Melody let out a breathy laugh. "So am I. I wonder if Charlie will like them?"
"He will." Both Sherlock and Melody fell into a slumber, wrapped in each other's arms. Since the dinner party two weeks ago, Melody had been staying over at Sherlock's a bit more, now that John knew of her. Every so often, he would catch little looks or actions between the couple, and part of him refused to believe that what he was seeing was true. It was so unlike Sherlock, but happiness looked good on him. After everything that both of them had been through, at least one of them deserved to find happiness. The next morning, they woke up to Rosie climbing on their bed, trying to wiggle her way between them. Sherlock was the first one to stir, opening one eye. He didn't even question it when Melody, without opening her eyes, pulled Rosie under the covers between them and cuddled up to her. He just led back down and draped his arm over both of them and went back to sleep.
