John didn't realise it yet, but he had started crying. He sat in silence, ignoring the fact that the CD had ended. How could he have believed Sherlock didn't care?

-2 months prior-

A loud crash startled John from his slumber. Sleepily he blinked and let his eyes acclimate to the early light streaming in through the window. After dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled to the doorway. "Sher, you okay?"

"Fine." Came the short, dismissive response.

"Wonderful," mumbled John, making the short trek to the kitchen. He stopped to stare at his partner wreaking havoc in the living room.

"So, I know there's a reason you seem to think our flat needs to look like the inside of a cloud, but would you mind telling me what it is?" Sherlock glanced over from where he was nailing pillows and blankets along the walls.

"I'm sound-proofing the room."

"Right. Of course." John continued to the tea kettle and turned it on. He had long since given up on getting mad when Sherlock decided to do something crazy, knowing that it made sense, if only to the detective. But ever since they had found out that the surrogate they had chosen to carry their child was pregnant Sherlock had begun to become distant, practicing his violin for endless hours and pulling stunts like the one happening in the living room right now. And John was getting sick of it. Taking his tea in a thermos he left for work, trying not to worry about Sherlock and whether he was having second thoughts about the baby.

-present-

John waited to hear the door while he listened to the CD on repeat. When he heard the click of the lock, followed by the swish of a long coat, he turned off the stereo and went to meet Sherlock at door at the top of the stairs.

"John, I need your he-" John kissed him before he could finish the demand.

"I'm sorry," He said softly, stroking the high cheek of his lover. Which just confused the brunette, his eyes quickly sweeping over John and slowly getting more worried.

"Why, you haven't done anything. Have you? Wait, are your eyes red? Why were you crying?" The demands got more and more frenzied and John could see the genius brain trying to figure what had happened. He put a finger to the plush lips, stopping any more inquiries.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I know I should never doubt you. Especially when it comes to knowing what you want." A lightbulb went on behind the ocean eyes, and then they quickly changed again, this time to a slight sadness.

"You thought I didn't really want to have our baby." John nodded infinitesimally, knowing it wasn't lost on the detective.

"I thought you were pulling away."

"I just wanted the recording to be perfect."

"I know, love. And it is," John gave a small smile. "I'm sure that that music will ensure that our baby will be a genius, even if I was the one we went with." Sherlock just shook his head.

"I should've told you what I was attempting." John kissed Sherlock softly again.

"You're doing everything perfectly. I learned a long time ago to ask you specific questions if I don't know something."

"I guess we both forgot what we had learned about talking over the last few years."

"I thought you never guessed," John teased, a bigger smile tugging at his lips. Sherlock finally smiled and pulled John into a hug.

"Another thing you've taught me." John hugged back, enjoying the closeness after having stayed away for so long.

"Now, what did you need me for? Is there another case?"

"It can wait. I need us more."

"Dinner?"

"Starving."

A/N: Title credit:

"Music is love in search of a word." -Sidney Lanier