Summary: Sherlock receives some news from Molly regarding a new member of their unofficial family and has to come in terms with it.[Sherlolly ~ Post Season 3 ~ Follow Up for 'Gladly Broken']
Broken the Right Way
One
Sherlock heard the words, but didn't assimilate them straight away. The woman just stared at him and all he could do was to stare back at her. This wasn't like when John asked him to be the best man of his wedding, it was pretty much the opposite: in where with John his thoughts raced and he really thought that words were coming out of his mouth, but since Molly gave him the news, Sherlock's mind was completely blank for the first time in a long while.
"Did you hear me?" The pathologist, Molly Hooper, asked with a tired sigh. "I… I am not going to ask anything from you, Sherlock." She told him gently after watch the Consultant Detective just stare at her for a minute without saying anything. "But I wanted to let you know rather than wait for you to deduce; it would be bad for both of us." Still without saying a word, the man simply blinked a couple of times and the woman proceeded talking. "This will be my child if you want it to be that way and no one has to know; I don't care about what people say about me anymore. I'll tell them that I decided to try artificial insemination – they will believe it. But if it wants to know who you are when it's older, I will not lie.
"There will be no talk of pregnancy if you don't bring it up, I will talk with John, Mary, and Greg not to say a word about it so we can still work together if you want. I can't be responsible for what you deduce of me, though. If you choose to find someone else to work with, I won't blame you. The last thing I want is for you to feel trapped in any way.
"But," she took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment and she knew that even in his state of shock, he noticed "there's the possibility that you'll want to know the child, and as long as you are clean," the said pointedly "it's okay too. I wouldn't expect you to change diapers or anything like a usual dad." Molly offered a small smile. "I know that you never expected this to happen after just one reckless night and it is a shock but… I just wanted you to know that I chose to keep it."
Molly got up from the chair and kneeled in front of Sherlock's chair, where the man was seated, and put a hand above the one which grabbed the arm set forcibly. "We are friends, Sherlock and that will never change. If anything, I'll care for you even more now." When he did nothing, she sighed and got up. "I'll be on my way, then. If you want to talk with me, I'll be in my flat later."
Sherlock, right after hearing the front door close, got up and walked to the window and had no trouble spotting her bright pink jumper as she looked inside her purse before grabbing her phone and then proceeded to walk away from Baker Street and whoever saw her, would never guess she was eight weeks pregnant – Sherlock himself missed it and now that he thought about it, those four pounds were not gained by impulsive eating.
How could have him been so stupid? One night. Just one night when his hormones were boiling together with adrenalin and he impulsively kissed her, leading to a passionate night and now to a child.
He grabbed his violin and played his frustrations away, not at all worried that other people might find it bothersome to have someone playing for two hours with almost no breaks. It stopped, though when Sherlock saw John Watson climbing out of a cab and by the way his best friend's posture, he knew the doctor was informed about Molly's… predicament.
Letting himself in, John entered 221B not too long after arriving and found Sherlock still by the window, grasping the violin tightly. The doctor didn't say anything for a few moments and the taller man didn't turn around to greet him.
"So..." John sighed. "Molly came by today." He saw Sherlock's body stiffen and even if he didn't have the deduction skills, he pretty much saw that. "Some news, huh?"
"Did she ask for you to come here but to say nothing of the subject?"
"Yes."
Sherlock finally turned around to face his friend. "Are you going to say something about the subject?" He asked, even if the answer was obvious by the way John stood.
"I will drop it after today, I swear." The doctor raised his hands in defeat and walking towards his chair. "I just wanted to talk with you first and see how you were doing" He sat and Sherlock rolled his eyes and followed the other man's lead and sat on his own chair.
"Go on, tell me all the reasons I should never raise a child." The Consultant Detective waved dismissively and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Why would I do that?" John frowned, genuinely confused.
"Because I am me." Sherlock was just as confused as John.
"So what?" The doctor shrugged.
"I told you once: I am a sociopath who solves cases in exchange to get high."
"And that never stopped you from doing absolutely anything." John raised an eyebrow. "You have people you love, you have a… well, let's call it a job for the sake of the argument, you have friends and being a sociopath didn't stop you. In fact, apparently, I am your friend because of it." He smirked – at least he accepted the fact that he was drawn to psychopaths like magnet – and the man sat in front of him even ghosted a smile.
"It took a while, though." Sherlock said pointedly.
"It did, but Sherlock" John smiled "have you stopped to think about how much you've progressed in only five years? No one else could stand living with you because you were such a dick that they would rather be homeless – don't argue, it's true: I've considered the option a few thousand times, you and your brother are in much better terms than before, you get along with Anderson, for god's sake.
"You have grown so much and maybe you can't see it, but I sure as hell can." Their eyes locked and the doctor continued his speech. "You have meaningful relationships with other people. You care so deep that you faked your own death and stayed hidden for two years dismembering an organization so you could save lives." John took a breath. "You killed Magnussen so Mary and I wouldn't live in fear. If this isn't enough evidence that you love, need I to remind you that you adore Rose? I am not saying that you carry her often or that you stop by every day to see her, but when you do, you can't hide how much you love her and she's not even yours biologically. The connection you will have with your own child will go beyond what you think you feel for her, you know?"
"Even so." Sherlock shrugged. "I don't think fatherhood is for me."
"Most of us think that." John said. "I wanted to have children, but I have no clue of what I am doing and I am learning as I go and if Mary wasn't by my side? I'd be stuck." He looked pointedly at his best mate. "Molly would do the same, you know? She doesn't expect you to suddenly know everything."
"But what if I screw the kid up?" The Consultant Detective asked, rising from the chair and started to walk around the room. "Look at me. I have a lung in my refrigerator ready to dissect, John. I drank tea with an eye on it and even I know that it's not normal; I see no problem about it but normal people seem to think it traumatizes children." Sherlock stopped. "I know how it is to be different as a child and I wish it to no one."
"Sherlock… every parent screws their kid up in a way." John offered. "You have perfectly nice parents and you have complaints. My parents were nice but they made lots of mistakes along the way. Rose is just six months old and I know I will screw her up at some point, Mary will too. It's completely normal. And if you are talking about organs in your kitchen, may I remind you that Molly herself spends her days elbow deep in corpses? She's the one who gave you that lung. Are you saying she would be a bad mother?"
"Don't say nonsense, John. Molly will be excellent; she's born for motherhood. You can see it by the way she gets when holding Rose that she always wanted a child for herself and she would be very loving to it." Sherlock dismissed his friend's remarks.
"Well, you get the same way." The doctor shrugged.
"Do I?" The taller man frowned and John nodded, staring at him with curious eyes. "The day Rose Ann was born, when you told me that I should experience it… I thought about it. How my life would be if I had one of those around."
"And…?" The doctor pressed when Sherlock's eyes wandered and the man didn't say anything for several moments.
"I thought that it was doable. I never thought exactly how would I do that, but my mind seems to think that it is possible."
"It is." John agreed.
The Consultant Detective hesitated and John could see the doubt that passed by his eyes. "Are you saying that I can do this?"
"Only you can answer that, mate. I can tell you one thing, though: I have never seen you fail in something after you set your mind on doing it."
"I…" The taller man cleared his throat. "I need to think about it without people expecting me to have an immediate answer."
"No one is going to pressure you." John replied. "I would be the worst one, I think, but I decided to follow Molly on this one."
"Plus, Mary told you to." Sherlock returned to his chair.
"Yes, she did." The doctor agreed.
"Why aren't you surprised that Molly and I engaged intercourse?" The Consultant Detective wondered.
"Because I've seen you with Irene and Janine – thankfully it was a gradual thing, otherwise when Molly told me about the pregnancy, I would've been in shock and denial." John chuckled and Sherlock followed. "I was still surprised, though."
"Trust me: I was there and the news was just as surprising for me as it was for you."
"Somehow I really doubt that."
Later, when John left the flat, Sherlock went to the only place he would definitely know if he was apt enough to participate in his child's life or to just let it be raised by Molly alone: his mind palace.
He had everything there: all the information he would ever need and all he needed to do was go inside, analyze the situation and decide what to do about it, so, he lied down on the sofa and entered his mind palace in no time.
Sherlock saw tiny feet appear in front of his chair – apparently his mind palace replicated 221B's living room for this conversation – and the Consultant Detective raised his eyes and was surprised to see a small child staring at him. It was a boy, not even five years old if he had to guess, with light brown straight hair, warm brown eyes, a button nose, small lips and tall for his age. He looked like a young male version of Molly.
"I was expecting someone who exists." The man said pointedly.
"I exist, I am just not this grown up yet." The boy replied.
No, Sherlock thought after a moment, if this was his child with Molly, he should have more Holmes in him, after wondering for a moment which of his traits would be genetically stronger, the boy changed a bit so his hair was now curly but with the same shade as his supposedly mother, the eyes changed to the same blue/green with golden drops like Sherlock's eyes, and even if the nose stayed the same, the lips now resembled his own.
Good. Now the boy was a mix of them both, as it should be.
"What's your name?" Sherlock asked the boy.
"You know." He answered with a shrug and the older man saw the uncanny resemblance between the two of them.
The Consultant Detective leaned forwards. "I'd imagine you were named after Molly's father: Leonard, if I'm not mistaken."
"No." The boy shook his head.
Sherlock frowned. "No?"
"No."
"And why is that?" The older man asks.
"I'm me and granddad was granddad." With a smile, the boy put his arms behind him the same way Sherlock himself liked to do so very often.
"Hm." Sherlock hummed in agreement. "Not William either then?"
"No, that's you, silly." His curls bounced as he giggled.
"Molly liked those new fancy names but she would choose something more classic for her own son to follow the same pattern as her father." Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Edward? George? Harold?"
"You should stop trying," the boy pointed out "you would know it for sure if Mum was here to confirm it and she's not." The boy shrugged.
"Fair enough." The older man gave up figuring out the boy's name for the moment; Molly was the most unexpected person in his life while being the simplest of them all. Plus, it was not important at the moment to name the imaginative child. "Where do you live?" The consultant detective wondered.
"With Mum."
"Where do I live?" Sherlock asked.
"Here." The boy looked around the 221b flat and the older man nodded; it made sense, he wouldn't move from Baker Street unless it was destroyed. "I stay here a few nights in my room."
"Your room?"
"Up there." The young boy looked over his shoulder and pointed to the door which leads to the stairs to John's old room; it made sense for it to be used as a child's room.
"I see." Sherlock agreed – living arrangements would be fine. "How about Molly?"
"She goes out with her boyfriend when I stay over."
This answer was not satisfactory. "No, this won't do. How about Molly?"
"She shares your room." Better.
"But you still live at Molly's flat." The Consultant Detective informed, not even bothered to ask, and the boy nodded.
"Mum says this is where you work and you need space."
"I do."
"But you always come home after a case. Mum cooks for you." The boy said with a smile. "She says you like pancakes."
"Does she?" Sherlock knew that Molly was very well aware that pancakes were one the few foods he couldn't turn it down.
"Uhum." The boy nodded. "She says you are too thin. But she likes to kiss you."
"I see." Satisfactory answer. "Are you boring?"
"I don't think so." He shrugged. "If I am your son, I will be interesting."
Sherlock agreed. "What about family?"
The child stopped to think for a moment before answering. "There's Uncle Mycroft, he teaches me deductions."
"No." That wouldn't do.
"There's Uncle Mycroft, he said he's got protection on me and hates when I call him Uncle Fatty." Much better.
"Who else?" Sherlock demanded.
"Uncle John and Auntie Mary come over all the time with Rosie to visit you and Nana. Greg…"
"Who?" The man interrupted, confused.
"Gerry."
"Oh. Lestrade. Go on." The Consultant Detective waved it off.
"He visits too, bring you cases and yells at you sometimes. I think it's funny." The boy smiled. "Mum and I are here all the time when you are not working; you say that you don't like many people here, but you look happy." He said simply. "We go to Gran and Pa for holidays. You don't like it."
"To be expected." Sherlock sighed. "How do you and Molly get along with my parents?"
"Gran loved Mum even before they met because she helped save your life." The child informed. "After Gran found about Mum expecting me, she was very happy and she coddles me."
The man scoffed. "Of course she does."
"Pa cried when I was born." The boy chuckled.
"He does that too often." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Pathetic."
"Uncle Rudy wanted to dress me as a girl when I…"
"Yeah, forget about them. I won't be introducing you to the rest of the family. I wouldn't even tell Mummy, but I think that Mycroft just couldn't keep his mouth shut." The man said in annoyance.
"Does it mean you will be there?" The boy wondered innocently.
"I don't know; that's why you are here: to help me decide." Sherlock told the made-up child. Both stayed in silence for a few moments before the younger broke it.
"I will be fine even without you there, you know? I have Mum, she's nice and loves me very much. Even if you are not there, I will turn out alright." The boy shrugged. "You will be fine too. You have your cases most of the time. But… what do you have when you don't?" The boy's eyes were innocent as he tilted his head to the side in wonder. "You are all alone here. Uncle John has Auntie and Rosie. Nana has her boyfriend, and Uncle Garry has his wife. Mum has me and I have Mum. Who do you have when you come home?"
"I…" Sherlock didn't know what to answer the child.
"You don't like to be alone, Dad." The man felt something shift inside him with the imaginary boy calling him that way. It didn't make any sense, since it was a creation from his mind, but had effect either way. "Not after you knew how nice it is not to be."
"What could you do to make it less alone? You wouldn't understand anything of what I do for years." Sherlock questioned.
"Children love their parents unconditionally." The small boy answered. "It wouldn't make a difference if you saw me once a week, or a once a month. And, by your logic, since I won't understand, you can do whatever you want."
"That is true." Sherlock nodded. "But as you know: I don't feel like other people do."
"It doesn't mean that you don't feel at all." The child answered, the green/blue eyes so much like Sherlock's bright and smart and the man wondered if the real child would have them as well. "I have to go, Dad. Mum is calling." Before the older man could say a word, there was movement by his left side, the boy waved good-bye and started moving.
Sherlock watched as the boy ran towards the couch located by his left side where Molly waited with a ridiculous bright jumper with fish on it. This time, the boy turned to be much younger, maybe one year old and his tiny legs worked very hard to get where Molly was kneeling, waiting for him with a big smile, her hair was loose like Sherlock preferred.
The pathologist snooped the child from the ground with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling as she greeted the toddler with a kiss on the cheek and the child laughed in delight and the action made Sherlock's heart flutter.
"Say bye bye to Daddy." Molly coaxed the child and the boy did what he was told, raised a chubby hand and waved. "He has important stuff to decide; if he'll give it a chance or if he'd rather stay the way he is." Sherlock's and the woman's eyes locked. "Even if you decide not to be there, Sherlock, remember that we will always be waiting for you here." She smiled and then looked to the child. "Let's go to your room, baby. Daddy can visit you later."
And just like that, he was out of his mind palace, blinking fast. He sat down, the decision finally made. Sherlock got up, put his belstaff and scarf, ran outside and hailed a cab. He needed to talk with Molly.
Instead of letting himself in like he usually did, Sherlock knocked and waited for her to answer the door. He was unusually nervous and he didn't like the feeling at all; he very much liked to say what he wanted and to be on his way.
When Molly opened the door, she was surprised to see him there, but before she could say anything, Sherlock jumped in. "I have no idea of how to do this. I am not a normal good example for a child and if I have my way, it will be visiting crime scenes with me as soon as it can think so I can teach everything I know. That's what I do: I drag people to my world. But I would never put it in danger intentionally, Molly. Ever.
"Caring is a chemical defect, I stand by this." He took a breath. "But the say Rose Ann was born, John said to me that he doesn't believe it and that if it's true, he would be gladly broken and… I… I have been broken so many times in horrible ways. I just… Maybe it's time I get broken the right way." Molly nodded for him to continue. "I won't be of much help and you will have to teach me, but I'd like to have a chance to be here for it. I… I would like to be by your side during this. As much as I can, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Please." He added after a moment.
Molly smiled and offered her hand to him. "Come in so we can talk better."
Sherlock was never a fan of hand holding, but he assumed that it was more of a symbolic thing than actually the actual hand holding, so he took it and let her bring him inside her flat.
It would be strange, it would be exciting and it would be weird, but Sherlock have been breaking the right way for a while; it would be easier to open up for his own child. Maybe that's why he met all the people who managed to scrap the barrier around Sherlock Holmes' feelings.
He was eager to find out.
Hi! I hope you liked it. Forgive me any OOCness and mistakes (English is not my first language). The boy's vocabulary is nice because he's part of Sherlock's Mind Palace, alright? That's why he forgot Lestrade's name as well. I was thinking about writing a second part of this. What do you think? Thanks for reading!