An Odd Family

Chapter 1- Goddaughter

She was crying again. She never stopped crying. Who knew that such a small thing could make so much noise. But Sherlock knew that the one she was crying for would never answer her.
He carried on with his thoughts anyway, knowing John would pick her up in exactly 58 seconds as always. London was too quiet these days. With Moriarty out of the way, hopefully for good, thought Sherlock. He was having difficulty finding a real case to occupy his time with. Cheating husbands brought in the money but there was no real fun and game in it. Staring aimlessly at John's chair, he tried to see if there was any connection with Moriarty's defeat and this sudden quiet spell. It had been 2 weeks and not one peak. Nothing. Nada. Zip all! Maybe he isn't dead? But he was sure this time. What if something big is about to happen and I'm missing it? He had had this argument with himself for days and it was torturing him not knowing the answers. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember anything suspicious about that day but nothing out of the ordinary registered. But something was wrong. What am I missing? He could feel the hairs on his arms stand up but couldn't think what could be the problem. Then he listened.
She was still crying. He concentrated more. Had he not heard john pick her up? But he was sure that he never. Maybe John is in a deep sleep? But as soon as Sherlock thought of that he immediately disregarded the idea as John hadn't slept in weeks.
She was getting louder and louder and Sherlock could not concentrate. He wondered why John hadn't seen to her by now. Jumping up from his seat he strode over to john's room and flung open the door but soon regretted his hastiness. John was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Sherlock at first didn't understand why, he knew it must have been hard for John since the accident but he had never forgotten his daughter. Then it suddenly struck Sherlock that the date was the 18th of May; a year ago he had just married Mary and now she wasn't here. Feeling guilty Sherlock stood there, not knowing what to say .He decided it would be wiser to leave, however the baby was still crying. Turning to stand beside the cot, Sherlock reached out and lifted the her awkwardly out her covers and ran out of the room, managing to shut the door behind him. Once in the hall he realised what he had done. He looked at the baby which he held at arms length as if it was going to bite him, and now all he wanted was to put her back but unfortunately it was too late. She was still crying and he didn't have a clue what to do so just stared at it embarrassed.
"Why do you cry?" he asked, half expecting her to respond back but instead just cried even louder.
He wondered if she needed changing so cautiously leaned his head forward but still holding her at arms length and sniffed, but she just spelled like that normal baby smell.
"Hungry?" and again she responded with a cry but this time Sherlock took that as a yes.
He carried her over to the kitchen area, still holding her as far away from himself as possibly but then he came to the fridge,
"Ah. Never thought of that."
He was going to have to sit her down to open the fridge but he couldn't just sit a baby down on a table or counter. He then realised he was going to have to hold her properly in his arm. He didn't like that idea. Sherlock had never liked babies, all they done was poop and cry and every time someone handed him one he would go ridged and think up some excuse like having allergies to baby shampoo to get out of holding it. He stiffly transferred her to his left arm, trying not to drop her as he didn't imagine John would be pleased with that. Once he managed to get a bottle, mix up the formula and heat it up, all the whilst feeling proud of himself , the baby continued to cry. He sat down in his chair ready to attempt to feed her. He had seen John and Mrs Hudson doing it many a time so it shouldn't be that hard. Slowly he raised the bottle to her mouth, making sure to be gentle. It finally stopped crying and starting sipping at it. Sherlock promptly felt pleased with himself, he had actually made her stop crying. As she worked her way through the milk Sherlock began to untense and he realised that babies, well this one, may not be so bad after all. He looked down at her as she opened her eyes. She had John eyes but Mary's nose, a perfect balance of her mother and father really. Many people fuss over how cute babies are but to Sherlock they all looked the same with their chubby checks and bald heads, except her. Actually having taken the time to take in her tiny features, Sherlock realised how adorable his goddaughter was.
He remembered the day when John and Mary popped in unannounced with this thing wrapped in blankets and Sherlock knew something was wrong with the way Mary was making side glances at John. He hid in the kitchen away from the baby when John came and sat down at the table with a kinda distressed look on his face. Sherlock had a sudden feeling of deja vu.
"Eh Sherlock. Em we were em wondering if you'd em want to be, you know...godfather?"
Sherlock looked from John, to Mary, to the baby then back to John, Mary, baby, John, Mary, baby but this time he rested on her. He did promise to take care of them at the wedding but the baby wasn't born then.
John saw the look of anxiety on Sherlock's face as he watched Mary with the baby.
"Look Sherlock you do not have to, we can ask someone else, it's fine." But Sherlock knew that he had stuck by his promise to protect John and Mary so far so now if this baby was apart of their family he couldn't break his promise.
"I'll do it."
John looked at him, surprised that his best friend agreed. "Great," he smiled. "We won't ask you to babysit or anything, and hopefully nothing will happen to us anyway Sherlock, so you won't need to look after her," he reassured. But if only he was right.
The baby had finished her bottle so Sherlock sat it down and shifted her gently so to hold her in both arm, eager not to start her crying again. Desperate to keep her quiet he rocked her from side to side and immediately felt like an idiot. If only Mycroft could see me now, he thought. The baby yawned, her tiny lips forming a perfect O shape and turned her head in towards Sherlock's body. He panicked at first but when he realised she had fallen asleep he sat back in his chair and relaxed.
"You' re not so bad after all," he whispered.

John had blamed himself. Every night when he rested his head on his pillow the memories would flash back to him. He should have drove that night, not her. It has been a couple of weeks after the Baptism and he had decided to take Mary out of the house, a night free of the baby so she could relax. When they dropped the baby off at Mrs Hudson's, Sherlock hadn't been in which John found weird but then he smiled as he remembered Sherlock looking terrified that day in the church when he had to hold her, so John figured that was why. Mary was arguing with him. She wanted to drive to the theater as she was not drinking but John insisted he would as it was her treat but of course Mary won. As soon as they pulled away from Baker Street and around the corner it hit them. The driver of the black SUV didn't even stop but sped away from the accident. John remembered waking up with a ringing noise in his ears and turned round to see Mary slumped over the steering wheel, her blood everywhere. Instincts kicked in and he raced to check for a pulse or sign of breathing but there was nothing. Terror shot throught his body as he Ripped off his seat belt and staggered out and around the car as fast as his injured leg would carry him. He reached Mary and managed somehow to pull out of the car. He tried everything he could think of but nothing worked.
He thought about how as the paramedics pushed him out of the way he had seen Sherlock standing at the corner, looking at the scene with horror. But John was too shocked to think and instead he let the darkness take him as he fell to the ground unconscious.
John then remembered holding the baby at the funeral as her mother's coffin was being lowered into the ground. But then something snapped him out of his daze. The baby! It was crying a minute ago but now he couldn't hear her. Springing up and turning to face her cot, fear struck John as his daughter wasn't there. He lunged for the door but before he flung it open he could hear Sherlock's voice.
"I promise this time to look after your family little one. I promise."
John opened the door a jar to find the baby nestled between Sherlock's arms and torso. Too stunned to do anything he just stared at them. Sherlock was gazing into his goddaughter's face with content and maybe even a hint of love, John thought. He was glad that he had Sherlock. A thought then occurred to him that made John smile; what an odd family they all made. Himself, Sherlock and little Shelly.