Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Hound/Meitantei Holmes, any canon characters or the original Sherlock Holmes works. They belong to their respective owners. I do own Dr. Smith, Ms. Pattison, Martha Pattison and Margaret Hudson.
Notes: It's finally here, the story in which Hound and Mrs. Hudson become parents. This serves as a follow-up to Unexpected News.
As always, Holmes is Hound in my Sherlock Hound fics.
Main pairing is Hound x Mrs. Hudson (Marlock?). Other relationships are platonic in a familial sense. Characters might be OOC at times.
I hope you enjoy this!
(Linebreaks hate me so I will use SHMH.)
SHMH
Sherlock Hound sat by Mrs. Marie Hudson's bed while Dr. John H. Watson observed her vitals. "You're in good health, my dear, so there is a chance the birth will not be strenuous on you," Watson remarked as he packed away his stethoscope.
"How are you feeling, Marie?" Hound asked his beloved.
Mrs. Hudson smiled wearily. "I experienced a mild contraction while you were getting dressed, but it wasn't anything too severe." She felt Hound squeeze her paw. She then looked to Watson. "Do you believe I may go into labour today?"
"There is a possibility, but it's really all up to your little one to make the final decision. For now, I advise you rest while we make arrangements."
She nodded and closed her eyes.
Watson approached Hound and placed a paw on his shoulder, tilting his head towards the door as a silent let's go gesture.
Hound nodded, rose to his feet, tenderly kissed Mrs. Hudson's forehead and followed Watson out of the bedroom.
SHMH
The pair were upstairs. "So, we should inform Dr. Smith, the midwife and the nursemaid that your child is due any day now so they must be ready to come here immediately."
"Are they all aware of our circumstances?"
"Yes."
Hound nodded in satisfaction. "None of them feel anything against you being Marie's formal husband in-title, her keeping the surname of her first husband and the child actually being mine?"
"I've explained there were extenuating circumstances and they must never speak of the truth for their safety." Watson was thinking of Hound's main concern that if any enemies of his heard he was a father, then they may target Hound's beloved Mrs. Hudson and their child. That, and the hopes of avoiding a scandal, were why Watson volunteered to wed Mrs. Hudson as a formality; the child would be raised knowing him as Uncle John while knowing Hound was actually the father. Because the marriage was a formality, the three of them agreed it would be fair for her to keep the surname of her first husband Jim.
"Thank you, my dear Watson. I'm relieved you at least know what to do in such a situation."
"Well, you'd better go send those wires. Have them come over today." A loud scream interrupted him. "As soon as possible. Mrs. Hudson just experienced a contraction."
He rose shakily. "Take good care of her?"
"You need not ask. Now, hurry but be careful."
He nodded and ran out of the sitting room, dashing down the seventeen steps.
Watson quickly followed, though instead of exiting the building, he hurried into Mrs. Hudson's bedroom.
SHMH
Hound returned and quietly, yet urgently entered the bedroom. He saw Mrs. Hudson was asleep, Watson by her side. "How is...?"
"I've been timing her contractions, they're still a fair amount of time apart. I've given her something to help ease the pain."
"How long do you believe it will be?"
"That's the thing about labour, Hound. Nobody really knows. It could take less than a day, it could be longer."
"Judging by her contractions though, what is your estimate?"
"You may be greeting your son or daughter by dawn tomorrow. You'd better sit down so I don't have to peel you off the floor."
He returned to his seat and took hold of Mrs. Hudson's paw again. "Watson, may I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"You're competent as a practitioner, you've helped deliver infants before. So, why is it that you've asked for Dr. Smith to fill in?"
"Because someone needs to keep you company during the delivery and offer reassurances during moments of doubt."
His eyes glistened before he blinked rapidly. "Watson..." He was feeling overcome by emotions that were running high; he was nervous about becoming a father, he was worried something might go wrong during the birth, he was beyond grateful he had a friend like Watson who was going above and beyond the call of duty.
He saw Mrs. Hudson tense. "Oh, did you feel that?"
Hound had felt the squeeze on his paw. "Another contraction?"
"Yes. It's been twenty-five minutes since her last one."
"Should we worry yet?"
"No, not yet." He rose to his feet and made his way out of the room. "I'll grant entrance to everyone, you should stay here."
He nodded silently, his gaze focused on the woman his heart and soul were married to.
SHMH
"How's she progressing?" Dr. Smith questioned as he stepped through the threshold and into the lobby.
"Contractions are twenty-five minutes apart."
He nodded. "I'll continue examining her while you and Mr. Hound go upstairs."
"Is there anything we can do?"
He shook his head. "Just leave it to me, Watson, you need to focus on making sure the father-to-be doesn't become too highstrung."
Two women stepped through the door as well. "How is the young dear faring?" the midwife questioned as she removed her coat and hat.
"Quite well, Ms. Pattison," Watson responded. "Her vitals show she is strong enough to handle the delivery."
The cocker spaniel nodded in satisfaction before turning to the younger woman, also a cocker spaniel. "Martha, this is your first time as a nursemaid, I do hope you have prepared yourself?"
Martha nodded. "Yes, Mother, I am ready to assist Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Hound with their child."
"Watson! Another contraction!" Hound could be heard calling.
Dr. Smith made his way into the bedroom and frowned at the sweat gathering on Mrs. Hudson's forehead. "Nurse Pattison, get us some towels and hot water. Ms. Pattison, please come with me. Mr. Hound, I must ask you leave the room for now."
Hound did as he was told, his legs were still shaky so he leaned against the wall. "Is it time?"
Dr. Smith shook his head. "Not yet, but please leave everything to us." He and Ms. Pattison approached the bed, Martha returning with a basin full of hot water and some towels draped over her arms. She'd been shown around the house when first asked to be the nursemaid so she'd know where everything was.
Watson closed the door and looked to Hound. "Want some brandy, old boy?"
He nodded. "But, I don't think I can walk."
He smiled patiently. "Come on, I'll help." He approached him, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him walk without toppling. "There isn't a lot that can shake up the great Sherlock Hound, but the prospect of becoming a father is certainly something."
Hound rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
SHMH
The pair were back in the upstairs sitting room, Hound lying on the sofa, a glass of brandy on the floor beside him and his arm over his eyes. "I never expected to be so anxious over this. But, Dr. Smith's frown wasn't one a practitioner would have if someone was about to give birth, was it?"
"Even in the throes of nerves your observations are astute. You're correct, Hound, Smith noticed something wasn't right."
"Wasn't right...?" He bolted upright, shooting a wide-eyed glance in Watson's direction. "What was it?"
"There may be a complication that arose. He didn't appear grim, so it may be a minor concern."
"But, Watson, how can we know if...?"
"This is why I'm not the doctor to take charge of the delivery." He rose from the armchair, crossed to the sofa and placed his paws on Hound's shoulders. "Mrs. Hudson didn't feel any different to you, did she?"
"No."
"She wasn't clammy or cold?"
He shook his head.
"It may have just been a much stronger contraction and it caused more pain than my injection would handle."
"Watson, I need you to be blunt with me right now. Do not say anything to get my hopes up, do not surmise possibilities. But, I must know now of what can go wrong."
"I don't want to make you any more anxious than you already are..."
"Watson." He placed his paws on Watson's shoulders, staring straight into his blue eyes. "Please."
"Hound..."
"Wouldn't you do likewise for those you're not friends with? I need you to stay professional for me right now. What can go wrong?"
He had to force himself to assume his professional airs, though it was very difficult when the one he was speaking to was his best friend and the one he was speaking of was also someone dear to him. "Very well. The child may want to be born feet-first, meaning a caesarian would have to be performed. The umbilical cord may be wrapped around the baby's neck. Mrs. Hudson might experience a haemorrhage that causes her to bleed out, or your child may be stillborn."
He fell forward, forehead on Watson's shoulder. "So much can go wrong?"
He moved his paws, wrapping his arms around his friend's shoulders instead. "Why did you want to hear all of that?"
"To prepare for the worst-case scenario."
"Nobody but the doctor should do that. It is up to the father to keep faith that all will go well. You have to believe in it for Mrs. Hudson's sake, as well as your own."
"What goes right?"
"Your child is born and the mother is well."
"Why is it that so much can go wrong, but so little goes right?"
"Because it's the little things that matter most, didn't you once teach me that?"
He sat up, surprise on his features that slowly melted into a smile. "You're quite correct, my dear Watson."
Watson moved to drop his arms, but paused when he felt the embrace being returned. "Hound?"
"Thank you for being the one to talk some sense into me. You're right, I must keep faith that all will go well."
He smiled and patted his back amiably.
SHMH
As voices drifted up from the bedroom downstairs, the two men started pacing the room. It seemed the only way they could burn off their nervous energy. The time had finally arrived, they could hear Dr. Smith encouraging Mrs. Hudson to push.
After ten minutes, the door opened and a head poked in. It was Martha. "Congratulations, it's a girl. Both she and the mother are doing well."
Hound and Watson exchanged glances.
"You're welcome back in the room in five minutes. I'll leave you be for now." She pulled out and closed the door.
Watson's wide smile finally formed and he clapped Hound on the back thrice. "Congratulations, my dear Hound, you're now a father!"
"A...father..." Hound blinked out of his stunned state before throwing his arms around Watson. "I'm a father! Watson, I am actually a father! My daughter has been born! Marie is well! Oh, Watson, my dear Watson, this is amazing!"
Watson returned the embrace, letting out laughter of relief and joy. "Oh, congratulations!"
SHMH
The door opened and the pair entered the room quietly. Nurse Pattison and Dr. Smith had already left following their final examinations of mother and child, and Martha was taking the bloody birth towels to the washroom.
An exhausted but beaming Mrs. Hudson turned to see them. "Come here and meet her, you two."
At first, Watson was going to grant the couple a private moment with their child, but Hound nudged him forward to let him know his presence was more than welcome. He still kept a comfortable distance so as not to intrude.
Hound sat by the bed, leaning in to give Mrs. Hudson a kiss. He then pressed his nose very carefully to his daughter's forehead. "My darling Marie, she's beautiful."
Mrs. Hudson's smile widened.
"My sincerest congratulations, Mrs. Hudson," Watson whispered, finally feeling it was safe to step closer.
"Thank you, Doctor." She looked to Hound. "Sherlock, would you like to do the honours?"
"Let's do it together." Hound gestured for Watson to stand beside him. "Ready?"
Watson watched them both in anticipation for what they had planned.
"John Watson, it is our pleasure to introduce to you our daughter..."
"Margaret Ruth Hudson," the new parents finished in unison.
Watson smiled softly as he leaned over to have a better look at little Margaret. He knew why her surname was that of her mother's first husband; it would also serve as a prevention of risks to her safety. He noted the tiny infant's rusty-coloured fur matched that of her father, though there was a thin patch of her mother's gold atop her head. Her ears were currently folded, they'd soon know if they'd be pointy and upright like Hound's or if they'd stay folded like her mother's. "She truly is an adorable little lady..."
SHMH
Five years had passed and the quartet were by a lake in the countryside. There was a picnic set up and all were seated around the blanket.
Margaret had kept her mother's folded ears, her head fur showing slight streaking of her father's rusty brownish-red through the gold she'd inherited from her mother, a pale blue ribbon tied into it. Her eyes shone a brilliant blue. She was wearing a sky-blue dress with white pinafore, white socks and black shoes. Margaret appeared quite happy as she looked around at her parents and uncle.
"Well now, I do believe it's time for cake! Wouldn't you agree, Marie?" Hound asked her.
She nodded, a bright smile marking her muzzle. "Oh yes, I quite agree! But, maybe Uncle John should allow it to stay a surprise for a little longer?"
Watson chuckled, shifting to where his niece sat. He placed his paws over her eyes. "Count to ten for me, Margie?"
Margaret nodded and did so, pausing when stuck but assisted by Watson's whispered counting. "Ten!" Her eyes were uncovered and she saw a big cake, decorated with strawberries and whipped cream placed before her. Candles were lit and she heard her loved ones singing a birthday song.
"Make a wish before you blow out the candles, Margie," Hound advised.
She nodded, closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and blew as hard as she could. Judging by the applause she heard, she'd succeeded in extinguishing five flames.
Mrs. Hudson picked up the cake and proceeded to slice it.
SHMH
Home again after a lovely, peaceful day. Hound and Mrs. Hudson watched as Watson told a bedtime story, knowing he was the perfect man to do it. As the story came to a close, they stepped into the room and approached the bed. They each gave Margaret a kiss good night, reminding her that they loved her very much.
Watson did likewise.
"Good night, Mummy. Good night, Daddy. Good night, Uncie John. I love you too." Hugging her ragdoll, she closed her eyes.
Hound turned down the gas lamp and the adults quietly left the room.
"I think I shall retire for the night myself, I'm exhausted. Good night, Sherlock, John." A few months after Margaret had been born, Mrs. Hudson and Watson had taken to addressing each other on a first-name basis. He was essentially family, she felt it would've been awkward to keep addressing him as Doctor instead of as John. She soon encouraged Hound to fall into the habit.
"Good night, Marie," the men returned before watching her make her way to the room next door and closing the door slightly.
Hound followed Watson upstairs to the sitting room. "Mind if I join you for a while?"
"Not at all," Watson returned.
SHMH
The men contentedly sat in the room, Hound smoking a pipe. He made sure not to do it around Margaret. "My little girl is already five years of age, John, I can hardly believe it."
"Nor can I, Sherlock. It feels like only yesterday we were in here, me trying to keep you calm during the wait and then when the news was delivered, how we both embraced as brothers do in such times."
He smiled fondly. "Indeed, that was a night I will never forget."
SHMH
After-notes: I looked up popular names for girls in the Victorian times and while Ruth stood out as an ideal middle name, I had to go with Margaret for the Christian name as that's my late grandmother's name. Though it is true that in those times it was considered inappropriate to address someone by their Christian name unless in an intimate and close relationship, outside of family, I had the Baker Street Trio addressing each other by their first names because it may have sounded strange to Margaret hearing her parents and uncle not addressing each other as family would.
Thanks for reading! You don't have to review, but if you want to say something, please don't flame. Constructive criticism is welcomed as always.