Chapter 23: Little Rose of the World

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Here is another soft, although regrettably short chapter, because things are hard right now and we all need cuddles. Prayers.

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23

It was around four in the afternoon when Rosie looked up from her card game to see John. He'd still deemed her too sick to visit, which, she thought, wasn't fair. She hadn't thrown up in three days!

He draped his coat over the back of the chair. "How's it been?"

"I'm kicking Mooper's butt," Rosie said with a little smile and a glance down at her cards. They were playing UNO and she had two +4's in her arsenal. She was just selecting a card, when she realized Molly had placed her cards down on the table and asked, quietly, "How did it go?"

"It went really good, actually." He... he looks like he might cry. Has he been crying? I think he's been crying already. Something happened.

Rosie broke the silence. "Draw four, Mooper."

Molly took four, but didn't play her turn. "How is he doing?"

"He's doing alright. Can't talk because of the treatment."

There were definitely tears in his eyes now, but he didn't seem sad. Happy tears? He looked pretty tired and a little confused and-- lots of things.

Lots of emotions.

Uncle Sherlock can't talk, and Dad's sign isn't great, so they couldn't have been talking really. Dad only cries when he thinks about Mommy. Something must have happened.

There are a few wrinkles on his shirt, he couldn't have gotten those from the car, the seatbelt goes the other way.

Folds?

No. He folds his shirts the other way.

Hug?

Yes. Uncle Sherlock probably hugged him, he never hugs first. That's probably why Dad is crying.

Rosie lay down another card. "Uno."

The grown-ups' attention scattered, and Molly put down her card. "I should be getting back. See you two later."

Sherlock hugged Daddy... before he hugged me. Rosie wasn't sure how that made her feel. So she lay it out in her head.

Had she expected him to hug her first?

Yes. He extended affection to her more often, and he and John had recently had a falling out.

Was she upset about it?

... Also yes. Which was stupid. She didn't really understand why. The only explanation was that she was being selfish. Rosie didn't want to be selfish, and she didn't think she was.

So she explained to herself why she shouldn't be. Dad had always been a little sad, and though they had their rows, when Sherlock came over and they were on good terms, it seemed to fill a little hole in him.

And there was the selfishness again-- Rosie wanted to be the brightest light in her father's life. But no, having Sherlock was better than just the two of them. When they were all together, it felt more like having a family.

Her father-- fathers? That was a confusing dynamic. She wondered what they thought of it, if they even knew what to make of it. But Rosie had to admit, they were lovely together.

***

A few days later after insisting and insisting she was well, John drove her up to see Sherlock. She ran into the meeting room. "Sherlock!"

He was sitting in the chair in the middle, and when he smiled at her she realized she hardly remembered him smiling at all before. She climbed onto the chair beside him. "The people who work here are buttheads. They won't let me bring you cake."

He started to laugh, then winced.

"You need to stop with that," John said. "There's frosting all over the car. We can always get another cake when he comes back," now he looked at Sherlock, "if you would like that?"

He shook his head no.

John had always been hopeless with sign language, but Sherlock knew it well enough and he'd started to teach it to Rosie a few years back. Now, he signed 'How are you?'

'Going crazy. Miss you a lot.'

John, of course, was confused. "What? What did he say? What did you say?"

'I tried to teach him. I think he was talking about his blog but it came out 'im glad you liked my potato.''

She laughed. 'You're kidding!'

'I wish.'

"Seriously, what are you talking about?" John was starting to get annoyed, which made it all the funnier.

"Potatoes," Rosie answered.

"What?" He chuckled. "No, really, what are you talking about?"

'Tell him I said the treatment is going well. Mrs. Hudson will ask him.'

"He says that treatment is going well, and that Hudders will ask about it."

John scratched the back of his neck. "He's not wrong. How much longer are they going to do the VNS?"

'Indeterminately. Apparently they're liking the results-- which are me shutting up.'

"Well that's stupid," Rosie said, aloud.

"What did he say?"

"The doctors want him to shut up."

John looked at Sherlock, then her, in confusion. "But... he can't talk?"

"Which is why they're happy with him."

"Well, this whole ordeal's halfway over." He grinned. "I'm surprised you haven't started an uprising by now."

Sherlock only shrugged, and gave one of his mock-innocent smiles.

"I would join," Rosie said, and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. It had been a long time since he'd done that, his usual affectionate gesture with her.

'I love you,' she signed.

He drew his hand away, and then, slowly, he signed it back. 'I love you, too.'

Rosie turned, unable to hold back a smile, to tell John, "He says he loves us too!" And so she wasn't looking nor expecting it when Sherlock gently pulled her into a hug.

She jumped out of her chair and hugged him back, fiercely. John saw the look of surprise on his face, and then, after a moment he watched Sherlock lean down to kiss Rosie on the forehead.

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