"Joooooohn…" A very pregnant Sherlock Holmes whines when he sees his husband walk into their bedroom where he has been dozing in and out of sleep since John had gotten up earlier that morning.
"Stop being so difficult and eat, Sherlock." The ex-army doctor scolds him softly, walking closer to their bed and carrying a light blue bowl of steaming soup.
"But, I don't want to eat right now…" The over-grown child pouts, wrapping his arms protectively around his stomach. "And neither does Ellie!"
With a roll of his eyes, John sits himself down on their bed with the bowl in one hand and a spoon in another. Why did his husband have to act like such a child at times?
"Eat, Sherlock… You need to… For the both of you…" He says, glancing at the bloated stomach of his lover.
Sherlock pouts even more and curls up in the warm sheets, acting as if he curled up tight enough he could disappear from John's sight.
"Please?" John says softly, offering the bowl to him. "Please eat for me, 'lock? For my sake if anything else?"
Sherlock sighs loudly and takes a few moments to raise himself up in bed so that he is sitting up and opens his hands to be given the bowl of soup, all the while glaring at John.
"Thank you.." John says with a smile, carefully handing Sherlock the warm bowl with the spoon.
Sherlock doesn't grace John's thanks with a reply, only pouting as he begins to use the metal spoon to scoop up some of the soup for him to eat…
Later that night John and Sherlock lay together in bed curled up under the warm blankets, with John spooning Sherlock from behind.
It was late. Almost midnight, and London was cold. Snow was falling from the sky that night, falling onto the streets and sidewalks and covering it with its' pureness.
Inside 221B Baker Street, all was silent for the two lovers in their shared bed. They were not asleep, but neither were speaking words either. Silence was in their company as they lay with one another, simply listening to each other's breathing…
"I'm scared…" Sherlock said some time into the night, seconds before the clock would strike 12 o' clock, and breaking the spell that had captured them both.
John tightens his arms around his lover's swollen belly and pulls Sherlock's back closer to his chest, reassuring the consulting detective with his actions before spilling out the words on his tongue.
"Everything will be okay, love.." John whispers softly into the room, keeping Sherlock close. "I know it will…"
Even as the doctor spoke his reassurance, he knew the statistics of a man becoming pregnant and having a successful and healthy delivery. John knew these things because they had been taught to him in medical school, because they were the basic facts of the world. He was perfectly aware of how badly a situation like theirs could turn. Sherlock could lose the baby. Sherlock could deliver a stillborn, a deformed child, a daughter doomed to nothing but illness her whole life. Or even… John could lose both his lover and his unborn daughter…
The ex-army doctor winced at the thought of the last option, unconsciously tightening his arms just a little bit more around the other man. To lose this man… His entire world… And the result of their love making… John would die. John could not continue to live in such a world if it were to be..
But… John felt all of these possibilities to be wrong… In his heart, the blonde man knew everything would turn out alright. Perfect. Wonderful…
John Watson knew everything would be okay, without a doubt.
The reply that Sherlock had been given seemed to be one that pleased him greatly, so John figured by the way the other man was relaxing even more so in his arms.
"Thank you…" He whispers softly a few minutes later, his eyes drooping to a close finally.
John smiles in response and snuggles closer to his lover, his own eyelids feeling heavier than they had previously as he begins to submit to the warmth and comfort he was feeling.
The two men fell asleep together that night, as they always did. With John holding Sherlock tightly in his arms, like it would take the world to separate him from the other man… From the love of his life…
For John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, everything would be alright…
Author's Note: My girlfriend encouraged me to write this. Don't mind it or its' overall shittyness. I'm just trying to get back into the swing of writing fanfiction a little.