BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: Holding His Baby For The First Time

A shriek echoed through the hospital room, one not your own this time. You breathed heavily, trying to compose yourself. Being in labor for 6 hours was not easy, but it was worth it. You wanted to hold her again. The nurse and doctor were cleaning her up and wrapping her into a bundle. Little Greta. You loved her. After 9 months of morning sickness, not drinking coffee, and back aches, she was here. You glanced over to your husband sitting in the chair next to you. His blue eyes were glazed over. He stared intently at the doctors, watching their every move as they handled Greta. His hands rested in prayer position under his nose. Every time Greta let out another shriek, Sherlock would jump out of his chair and look to see if she was okay until she calmed down. Only a couple minutes old and she already had him wrapped around her finger. Took you a couple years.

"You okay daddy?"

"Why did you call me that?"

"Because you're a dad now, sounds weird huh?" He nodded. Then suddenly his eyes turned to saucers and he jolted out of his seat.

"I'm a father," he stated, pacing up and down your bedside. "I'm a father."

"No, you're a mother." He looked at you, unamused by your snarky comment, and continued to pace. You, however, started laughing. Man I am funny. Must be the medication. It's true, you were on painkillers.

"How does one 'father'?" he asked. Before you could comment on his choice of using the word father as a verb, Nurse Trew spoke up.

"(Y/f/n), you can hold Greta again now." You clapped your hands together happily, and welcomed the bundle of joy into your arms. She started fussing, but you started shhing lightly and rocking her back and forth, and she calmed. You ran your finger down the side of her face, soft as a baby's bottom. Her face is as soft as her bottom? Again, more uncontrollable laughter.

"What's funny?" he asked eyeing you.

"Me." Sherlock snorted, then came to stand by you.

"Done being a crazy psychopath?"

"High functioning sociopath, and no I'm not."

"Maybe holding her would calm your nerves." His body turned rigid and you looked up. He was looking directly at Greta, then blinked slowly and walked back to the chair.

"Sherlock she's your daughter. You have to hold her sometime."

"No I don't, I don't like babies."

"Well you should have mentioned that before you impregnated me."

"I didn't know."

"You didn't know you were impregnating me?"

"No! Ugh, it's so hard to have an intelligent conversation with you sometimes, Greta understood more of what I was saying than you did." Now you glared at him unamused.

"Please hold her? For me?

"No."

"Sherlock Holmes why not?"

"I'm-I-I'll break her!" he sputtered out. You stifled a laugh and mustered a serious face.

"Sherlock, she's not a water balloon that pops if you squeeze her too hard."

"What if I misplace my hand and her neck falls and disconnects." You cringed at the image.

"One, I don't think that's possible. Two, stop being overdramatic. Three, it's easy to hold her, I'll show you where to put your hands."

"No."

"Just because I'm not pregnant anymore doesn't mean I don't have the temper, and power, to call your mother in here, she's right outside. She would be very ashamed and angry to know you won't even hold your own blood and DNA." He sighed and rolled his eyes, drama queen.

"What if I do break her?" His eyes were lowered to the ground, a sad look on his face. He really didn't trust himself.

"Come here," you motioned him over. Reluctantly he obeyed, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"Okay look how my hands are placed and try to place yours like so." He inspected your arms and tried to match them with his; his intensity and focus reminded you of a little kid.

"Okay, keep them positioned like that and I'll just slide her into them." He nodded slightly. Greta's eyes were drooping, but the sudden movement popped them up. You slid her slowly into Sherlock's slightly shaking arms.

"Okay she's all yours." I said taking my hands away completely. For awhile Sherlock stayed completely silent. He just stared at her. Emotion flowed around in his eyes, he had that look. A look of fatherly love. He took in every inch of her, from the top of her bald head to her little toes peeking out from the blanket. Then he smiled the smile where his eyes crinkle, the edges around his mouth wrinkle, and his eyes sparkle with merriment. Your favorite smile, next to his smirk. He stayed smiling at her, you smiling at him, and Greta drifting off in his arms. He held her for a long time, long enough where the doctors and nurses had to keep asking if he wanted a break. Each time he would answer with a polite "no thank you", while never taking his eyes off Greta. His arms stayed stiffly in their original position, he was dead set on not dropping her. After about 45 straight minutes of me being pampered by Nurse Trew and Sherlock still holding our baby (I love saying that), Greta started to cry.

"No," commanded Sherlock. This should be entertaining. Despite Sherlock's strict order, Greta continued to fuss, getting louder by the cry. "No, stop crying. Why are you crying? Why is she crying (y/f/n)?"

"Probably hungry, or needs a diaper change."

"Why can't she just tell us?"

"She is Sherlock, do you not hear her crying?"

"Well how does the crying help, she's not making any sense. We need a translator."

"There are no baby translators."

"Then how do we know if she needs a diaper change or is hungry? What if she needs help breathing or something falls on her?"

"We guess, smell her bum, think of the last time she ate, check her pulse and make sure nothing is falling on her.

"That's not logical."

"That's babies." Greta let out an earsplitting scream and Sherlock gaped at her.

"Stop yelling please," pleaded Sherlock, hugging Greta closer to his chest. This would be a fun first couple years, you thought as you watched Sherlock beg your 1-hour-old baby to stop crying.

A/N

Popped this one out in record time. Thank you for 200 reads, means the world! More imagines coming your way, the ideas are brewing in my mind as I type. Enjoy! (I always say "enjoy" so that's kind of my word now I guess??)