BBC Sherlock Imagines

John and Sherlock: Fathers

Request for @georgieclaptonxx

~

John watched his baby girl through the glass window. She slept peacefully - a happy baby with not a care in the world. Her little chest moved up and down with each breath, her right arm rested up by her ear, and her eyelashes batted lightly in her sleep. Her skin was still pink - she was only a couple hours old.

His heart clenched.

Hours had passed since the object of his affection had entered this world. But, hours had also passed since the love of his life had left this world. A fresh set of tears set in as he felt the clench in his heart turn into a ripping sensation that echoed through his whole body. He steadied himself, hand on the glass, and caught his breath. Focus. Focus on her. He looked back into the nursery, eyes dead set on the only thing that mattered in his life now. He had to be strong for her. He watched her sleeping again, so peaceful, so innocent, so naive to the loss she had suffered and would have to endure her whole life.

His mind fought against the distraction.

He let himself explore the thought of the reality he would succumb to - no more candlelit dinners, no lazy Sundays, no ogling over their beautiful creation.

She had gotten the chance to meet her though. The doctors had been rushing about, telling her there was limited time. He had watched as she took her in her arms and ran a single finger down her beet red face that screamed in resistance against the coldness that was so different than the warmth inside the womb.

"Mommy's here," she had cooed, the words slipping off her tongue like they were made for her to say. In her last moments she held her crying daughter, and clenched the hand of the man she loved, a small smile, if even possible, stretching the corner of her mouth.

"She's not gone you know," came a deep voice from behind him, springing him back to reality. "You'll see her again in some reincarnation after death." John cringed at the word "death". Sherlock noticed. "I'm sorry... I do not.. I didn't.. I was trying to..." But his words fell short. He stood next to John and gazed in on the sleeping bundle of flesh. "What do you plan on naming her?" John let his eyes wander over her sleeping peacefully, something he had been doing for the past hour. He already knew what her name was. Him and Mary had decided on it the night before she was brought into the hospital.

"Elizabeth."

"It's quite an elegant name. Not as good as Sherlock, but close." Sherlock looked at John, hoping his small joking banter would raise his spirits, as Sherlock's were at rock bottom as well. Not only had he lost one of his best friends, a woman that saw the best in him, that lit up his world and understood him for the better, but John, his truest friend, was broken to the point of no return. And this time, it wasn't his fault; he couldn't disappear and pretend like the sadness wasn't there. This time it was him picking up the pieces and trying to build back his friend, not someone else doing it because of Sherlock. And Sherlock did not know what to do. He wanted Mary back because she knew how to fix John, she had done it before. Because she had a baby girl she would never get the chance to know. Because she left behind a broken husband who had to learn to become a father, and a newborn baby that would grow up seeing her father cry, and wonder what happened to her mother. Because she made everything okay. But right now, as they stood in that hallway, Sherlock did not have time to mourn. He only had time to do his best to fix John, to reassure him that all would be okay.

"You can stay with us," he offered. John still had one hand on the glass. He removed it and looked into his best friends eyes.

"I-I don't want to put yo-"

"Stop talking. You're staying with Mrs. Hudson and I. We both know that's the best decision." John nodded his head once, accepting defeat and giving in. Secretly, he was relieved Sherlock had asked him; he was starting to feel numb, unlike himself, and knew he wasn't in the right mind to take care of his daughter on his own like he would have to do one day, but he'd deal with that later.

"Thank you," he choked out.

"As my best friend, I believe it is my duty to help you in your time of need. We are both struggling emotionally, and perhaps it would be best if we tackle this situation together. Not to mention I must get to know my niece, as she will be a very important part of my life from now on." John didn't respond, just looked back in on Elizabeth. Sherlock followed suit. They both gazed in on her, two men, afraid of the future, and dwelling on the past.

"Thank you Sherlock."

"You're welcome." John took in a deep breath, the first calming effort he had made in a couple hours.

"Would you like to hold her?" he asked. Sherlock pondered the idea.

"Indeed. I must practice for what's to come in the near future." John called over a nurse and she motioned for the boys to follow.

"Which one of you is the father?" she asked while swathing Elizabeth into a bundle.

"We both are," replied John. Sherlock snapped his head towards him in shock. While he knew he would play a key role in the growth and development of Elizabeth, he did not know John trusted him enough to be considered a father figure. John smiled up at him, patting him on the back and an unspoken agreement passed between them - if Elizabeth couldn't have a mom, she may as well have two dads.

A/N
Broke my heart writing this, but weirdly, I'm strangely not bad at writing tragic stories... Anywho.

Yay for random updates! So happy I got to post this tonight. I started writing it during my aiding period, and ended up really liking how it was going and got the momentum to finish it tonight.

Okay so kind of a big deal... I'M AT 12k READS?! You guys... I'm so spoiled I love it!

Again thank you for all the support and the votes and the comments.

I hope you enjoyed the story. Hopefully more will follow soon.

lataz
(Laterz)