Settled in a room, and changed into a drab, yet functional hospital gown Molly lay incredibly uncomfortably and waiting to hear the midwifes assessment of her nearness. "Well Molly love," came the voice of the round and kind Ms. Jones. "While we're not there yet, we are on the way. You've dilated 4cm since Tuesday when we last checked. Bringing you to 6cm's and your effacing splendidly."
Molly let out a sound of relief and frustration. "So far to go still." She mourned.
"Not to long I think, maybe five hours or so. How about we get you up off this bed and try some of those relaxation exercises we've discussed?" The small lady turned to where Sherlock sat and motioned him forward to come with a warm, reassuring smile. Ms Jones finally pulled him over to where Molly sat and together they helped Molly up into a sitting position.
"Well now dearest what shall we begin with? The birth ball? Walking?" She looked between the two who began to speak over the other.
"Walk." Sherlock said.
"Ball." Said Molly.
"The ball it is then!" Ms Jones cheerily sang as she beamed at Molly before hastening out the door to retrieve it.
Sherlock turned to Molly who was rubbing her neck and straightening up. "But what about our birth plan? We discussed this extensively over the past few months. You do of course remember how you instilled the 'Walk, bounce then bathe' program that you made me swear to? So don't you think it be wiser to walk now as planned as it will allow you to reach goals that bouncing endlessly won't? "
Cutting her eyes up to him, "The plan has changed Sherlock. We walked half of the city to get here. Bouncing will help the baby drop just as well thus making the labour go faster. I want to stay in here. The very last thing I want to do is have a contraction in the bloody hall with my arse hanging out if this gown for all of King and country to see."
"We don't have a King Molly..."
"That's not the bloody point you arse!" Molly said through gritted teeth. The next contraction had arrived, marginally sooner then expected. Fantastic progress!
"The ball it is then." He agreed walking away so that she'd miss his smile.
Hours of bouncing and breathing and bathing were wearing Molly out. Ms. Jones had been keeping her on task but the waiting was excruciating for Sherlock. Molly had things to do, the nurses had things to do. Ms. bloody Jones had things to do, but Sherlock had nothing. Oh yes, he was welcome to breath along with Molly and help her bounce. Turn her about the room for walk but that got old. Fast. Soon he himself sat bouncing (although not on the birth ball) fidgeting, and dying to do something. He eyed his phone sitting on the shelf where he'd silenced it to avoid the texts for updates and teasing from John, Mary, his mother and Mycroft. Looking at Molly he restrained himself. Barely. He shot to his feet, making both of the ladies in the room startle. "I need a... drink." And he went out to the hall, pausing against the wall and pulling his phone. A case. He needed a distraction from that boring room with absolutely nothing to focus on but Molly being in so much pain.
The cabbies words about this being his fault were all to true. The guilt was toxic and quick working to eat away at him. Molly would have never been in this- no he stopped himself. Molly wanted this baby. Wanted a child of their own. And honestly he had too. A child for them to raise with his curls and Molly's nose whose intelligence would be second to none. A perfect combination of his intelligence and Molly's compassion. How could he not want that experience for Molly and he?
And Yet...
Wanting this pain, no matter how temporary was harder to except. Sherlock could take physical torture. Be it via a Serbian military interrogation or Mrs Hudson's inane stories about her 'glory days' as an exotic dancer that made him want to tear his ears off. But this wasn't him. This was Molly who had to feel the pain and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. No evasive solution, no great conundrum to find. No foe to vanquish. Just wait and suffer each agonizing moan and gasp. It would be easier if she'd just scream. Maybe take some gas and relax or any other option. But not Molly, no she refused. Flat out. No matter the assistance offered by Ms.
Jones, Molly repeated her choice. She wanted to achieve this on her own.
How h e loved her spunk though! Tell Molly that there was something that was difficult task and she accepted it and worked her hardest to excel at it. Because there was nothing she couldn't do when she put her mind to it. Grabbing the bottle of water out of the fridge in the kitchenette the centre provided, Sherlock turned make his way back to the room when a voice called to him .
"Ohy you Berk! Leave something in a taxi?" A grinning Lestrade was coming through the entrance of the ward, toting their stolen hospital bag.
"I see you've retrieved the satchel, thank you for delivering it. What about the other matter of Mr. Coleman ?" Sherlock spoke, striding over to the DI.
Lestrade chuckled, handing the bag to Sherlock."I got that piece of work in the car now. Had seven warrants out for him, so thanks for that."
"It was a boon." Sherlock murmured, vaguely distracted by the muffled sound coming from down the hall where Molly labored.
"And how's our Molly doing?" The detectives sharp eyes where studying Sherlock's face closely.
"She's... Miserable but determined."
"And how are you taking it?" The grinning detective asked.
Blowing air out, Sherlock leaned back against the wall. "I can't stand to see her in this pain." He confided, his tone serious. "She still has hours left to go, according to the midwife and it's horrible to just sit there."
"Sit there and do nothing? Yeah, I've been there. Twice. But I assure you Sherlock, it's all worth it. We've just got to get you feeling productive and useful. Perhaps they have some inventory you could count." He teased. "All jokes aside, I have nothing to help you on this. It's a literal bloody hell what happens in those rooms, and you soldier are being sent to do your time on the battlefield."
"Good god, Lestrade. What the hell kind of motivational speech is that?" His face contorted to show his annoyance and displeasure.
The older man clasped the soon-to-be fathers shoulder and said. "An honest one."
"Thank you for coming again, Greg." Sherlock spoke softly.
"You're an ass!" Lestrade shouted.
"Hush. There are children present." Sherlock chided through a grin.
"Yeah, yeah. You better get back to the war-front soldier."
"Aye, aye Captain." Sherlock smirked with a mock salute.
"That's... Just... No. No." Shaking his head further. "Now go kiss Molly for me." The detective said, backing out toward the door, at least until he say the ginger nurse walked by. "Off ya go, while I chat with this lovely lady."
DI Lestrade gave his signature 'silver fox' grin and Sherlock groaned out his own moan as he went round the corner.
When he entered, the room was empty save Molly, who laid there with her eyes closed. He quietly walked over to her and sat down gently, letting her rest. Studying the face of the woman he loved so dearly, Sherlock Holmes was hit with just how crazy and wonderful it was that he was here, sitting in a birth centre and waiting for a child, his and Molly's child to come into the world.
Molly's eyes fluttered opened, widening a bit at finding him there. Sherlock reached out for her hand.
"Hi." Said Molly, as she gripped his hand.
"Hello again." Sherlock raised her hand and brought to his lips. "How are you?"
Molly shifted in the bed, "I'm not comfortable by any means of the word." She locked eyes with him. "I'm not sure how much longer I can go without relief. "
He squeezed her hand. "Molly, you are brave, intelligent and the kindest person I've ever have had the privilege to know. But you are also one of the strongest human beings on the planet. If you say you want relief from this than I'll move heaven and earth to get you the peace you need to bring our daughter into the world. There isn't a cell in my body that doubts you and your abilities to do what you have set out to do. And not a single doubt in my mind that if you need comfort that you're wrong. I love you, and I love her and whatever you choose is the right choice."
Molly's eyes began to leak tears and she pushed him off a bit. "Oh you. Just go find Ms. Jones and we'll discuss our options. This pain is intense and I can't do it much longer."
"On it boss." He rose and kissed her forehead, savoring her half smile before running to the door and yelling the midwifes name down the hall.
"I said go and find her, not bellow like a Buffoon down the hall you moronic cow!" Molly complained, the lovely smile vanished leaving her mouth drawn up in irritated indignation.
Moronic cow? That was new. He'd have to use that one.
"I swear, I should just go get her myself." Molly moved to start getting out of the bed. Not that her speed was threatening. A sloth moved at a
faster pace then his Molly in labor. "If you want something done right you have to do it yourself." She grumbled out. "Simple task."
The door of the room pushed open and in came a rushed and harried Ms. Jones. "What's going on dear? I came as soon Sherlock screamed." She looked pointedly at him. "And I am quite sure he would only call out of it is in fact a dire emergency. Am I correct?" A small tilt of the head and Ms. Jones had him in her sight. Not that the likes of Ms Jones scared him. Much.
"Molly wants to discuss pain care. Her well being is my top priority." He reasoned.
"And that would be the wonderful reason we have a call button to summon me Mr. Holmes. Not screaming about as the fishmongers are known to do. Yes?"
"But it was an effective method." He asserted.
"But not a very couth one was it? Now I shall remind you that you are not the only family giving birth here today. And while your brother made me sign a contract giving you and Molly my undivided attention, I refuse to be called like a dog unless someone is d ying or crowning. Understood?" She waited for Sherlock to assent and then went over to Molly and spoke in a far more cheerful tone. "Now dear heart, how are you?"
"I still stand by the fact that it was an effective method." Sherlock mumbled. Thankfully the women were engrossed in there discussion and he was quite thoroughly ignored.
"It's getting worse. I can't find any comfortable way to sit or lay, I need relief if this is to go on for hours yet."
Ms. Jones nodded before speaking. "Well, let's give you a check-up and see how were looking then we can discuss your options. You've done beautifully this far and there is no shame with a bit of pain relief. So I'll wash up and you lay back down. You are due to contract again soon I'd wager. Best get relaxed while you can." S he turned to the sink and Sherlock was helping settle down as Molly started to tense up. "Breathe Molly, shallow and quick. Breathe Darling. You won't have this pain much longer."
Molly was loosing all resolve. Tears filled her eyes. "I don't think I can do it." She said, fighting to take the small breaths against exhaustion, emotion and the extreme pain.
Sherlock held her hand fast and performed. The breathing pattern for her to follow along with "he he he who who who." A repeated chant till the spasm ended and she relaxed once more. The sound of Ms Jones snapping gloves on and sliding up on her rolling chair drew his attention.
"All set to check, you ready Molly?"
The midwife asked. After Molly's nod of consent she dipped down. Curiosity drew Sherlock to lean down and try to see what visible progress there may be. Swiftly though, Ms. Jones was telling Molly to relax. "Well dear, I have some good news and bad. The bad, if you would say it is that you have dilated more rapidly then anticipated and are past the point of getting any relief via spinal epidural.
"However the good news, if you will agree is that your daughter, and her lovely full head of hair is ready to come into the world!"
"I'm... Ready to push?" Molly asked amazed.
"Quite so." The older woman smiled. "Now we can use gas to ease the discomfort, but Molly I have to say it makes the process go a tad bit longer. In my experience, you would be better off pushing at your full capacity than at lower cognitive ability." She looked kindly at Molly, "But if your looking for my opinion, I know you can do it on your own. You've got me and Sherlock and you have been a champion so far. And the pain is already at it's most difficult now. It's all down hill from here."
Molly lay, looking down at her hands as she evaluated the options. Sherlock stood uncharacteristically silent while she thought, but when her eyes turned to seek his, he answered the unspoken question. "There's no doubt in my mind you can do it. But it is your choice. If you don't think you can..."
A small smile lit her face and her warm eyes glowed at him. "Maybe I can." Sherlock smirked at her. Molly never could resist a challenge.
"Sherlock, might I have a word please? In the hall." Ms Jones asked motioning him to follow her. She was done summoning assistance for the immanent birth and a few attendants were rushing in to lay out tools and prep for the baby's arrival. With a curious nod from Molly, he followed Ms. Jones out the door. Once the door closed behind him, she rounded on him. "Now Mr. Holmes, I wanted to speak to you a moment and make sure we are in the same page before we begin this business of delivering your daughter.
"Now, I understand. I do. Birth is a beautify, mystifying fascinating process. But I need your focus to stay with what is happening with Molly above the waist. I think you will agree that I am extremely qualified to handle the birth of your daughter. I need you to handle encouraging Molly. Are you up to the task?"
Sherlock froze. Eyes locked with Ms. Jones's dull blue ones. It was a question he'd asked himself daily since learning he was to be a father. Was he even capable of being a dad?
"Mr. Holmes! I am not asking you to question your existential existence as a father, I am simply asking are you ready to go help Molly. So, are you?"
"Ah, well I... Yes."
"Good. Good!" She clasped his hand. "Shall we go bring your daughter into the world now?"
With a deep breath, Sherlock stiffened up his bearing and offered his arm to the midwife, escorting her back in. "Yes, we shall."
"Into battle we go Sherlock."
She intoned softly.
With a chuckle he agreed. "Into battle indeed."
"Alright now, let's deliver this sweet girl!" Ms. Jones sang brightly upon reentering the room to go rewash her hands again and dressed for delivery.
Sherlock went to Molly's side and sat on the corner of the bed. Molly he noted looked a bit terrified but energized and excited too. Reaching out to smooth a soft tendril of her hair that has spilled out of her messy bun behind her ear he whispered to her. "I have no doubts that you can do this Molly." Giving him a wobbly smile he went on. "And I'm here. For you, I will be here to hold you, time you and support you." She looked to speak but he cut her off. "I know I don't say it as often as you'd like me to, but I love you Molly Holmes. And I could not be prouder of you. You are capable of doing this. Giving it all you can. Don't hold back. And remember darling, that If your bowels accidentally release it is a perfectly natural part of the birthing experience and nothing to be ashamed of."
Molly looked at him adoring smile turning to a mortified glower at the thought he assumed. But just as quickly she laughed. Full out laughed at him. "Sherlock! You can't say things like that to me! God if I don't love you so much I would absolutely hate you!"
"I'm serious Molly. It's a very common occurrence that happens to-."
"Shut up, Sherlock."
"I just want you to be comfortable if or when it happens." He reasoned.
"Shut up! Shut up now!" She said with mock severity, before giving up and laughing. "Or I shall send you to the hall!"
"You wouldn't dare." He growled with a smile.
"Yes, well better not try me. No more discussions about my bodily fluids and functions. Agreed?"
"Agreed." But after a moment he questioned. "But just to be clear, we are still saving the placenta like we discussed, right?" He asked with a barely concealed pout.
"Yes darling. You will be allowed to keep the portion of the placenta not being reserved to play with to your hearts content. But for now can you please shut up?" Molly grimaced and keened as another strong contraction took hold of her.
"There there love, we'll have you pushing on the the next one." Ms Jones cooed.
Everything moved swiftly then as nurses finished placing equipment and donning protective layers. Sherlock was placed on the bed behind Molly to serve as a back support for her and two nurses prepped her to brace her legs. And then they waited to begin pushing.
"Good job Molly, keep pushing! Yes, good job. A few more like that and well be holding your dear one." Ms Jones said, and Molly took in deep breath after deep breath. Sherlock pulled her closer and wiped a cool rag across her brow.
"You are amazing Molly." Sherlock praised as Molly rested.
The door to the suite opened and a young assistant peeked her head in, "Excuse me, um. I have a rather insistent visitor demanding access to the room. He claims to have the power to deport me if I won't let him come back immediately!"
"Call security and have them tossed at once." Sherlock snapped.
From the other side of the door came his brothers snarky voice. "I refuse to wait in the lobby like an idiot Sherlock. Let me in the room immediately or I shall have to call in reinforcements. Don't test me!"
Sherlock tensed and began to speak but Molly grabbed his hand sharply and he stopped. She took over and
Called to his brother.
"Mycroft, I am currently spread out bare from the waist down and your nieces head is crowing out of my vagina. If you ever want to look at me again I suggest you turn around and leave this instant.
If waiting in the lobby is to far beneath you, you miserable snot, then take your pompous ass and leave. You can always come and see us when we are settled once more at Baker Street."
No reply came from the hall and so Molly cheerfully yelled out. "Ta, Mycroft."
Sherlock giggled. He absolutely giggled. The nurses smirked and Molly relaxed once more.
"Can you just imagine them all in the lobby?" Sherlock mused.
"Ugh. I'd rather not." Molly closed her eyes and leaned closer to him, allowing him to take her weight fully.
"Mmmm." Sherlock agreed.
Another contraction started and Sherlock silently supported Molly as she gave a tremendous pushing for Two contractions later and a tiny wail filled the room. Sherlock was positive that a more beautiful sound had never been heard on earth before. Molly lay exhausted against him as a nurse leaned over and placed the vernix covered child against Molly's chest. He say in awe holding Molly, who in turn held their child. The little thing calmed, when it heard Molly's sweet whispered. "Oh. Hello."
Did Molly know that those were also the first words she'd spoken to him when they first met all those years ago? The heart he so long denied possessing beat instantly full in his chest. And he pressed a kiss to Molly's temple as he reached forward to stroke his daughters cheek.
"I'm so pleased to meet you Evelyn
Marie." Perhaps they weren't the most eloquent words he could have spoke but his throat was to tight to say much else. A nurse came over and gently picked Evelyn up to go get her weighed.
Molly never took her eyes off her daughter as she spoke. "Sherlock, how about getting a few pictures?"
"Ah yes. Documentation. Right." He slid from behind Molly and went to the bag to get his phone. Sherlock snapped a dozen or two pictures of her face, fingers and toes as a nurse weighed and placed a diaper on her before returning her to him. All deemed perfect.
Molly, meanwhile was busy with Ms. Jones completing the final part of her delivery. The placenta was delivered and once a sample was removed for a core blood storage, the organ was placed into a sample bag and an unsure nurse asked where it should go.
Meanwhile, the nurse finished swaddling Evelyn and turned to hand him the baby. Ever so gently he bent down and felt the warm, solid bundle be placed in his arms. The noise faded away. The colors too even. All there was to be seen was the tiny child who weighed just over a half of a stone. Sherlock studied her closely. There were his lips, Molly's nose and the beautiful dark lashes and ebony hair. She was beautiful. "Evie" he whispered. The tiny thing's face contorted as it focused to open her eyes. The eyes were still an indeterminable grey. But the expression was one he recognized instantly as his of realization. "Yes dearest, it's me. The one whose voice you've only heard till now. I'm... I'm your Father."
Where had these tears come from!? He wasn't a silly man, so why was he weeping over the baby like an idle minded fool?
"Sherlock, hand me the the phone. Then sit. I'll get pictures of you two." Molly commanded. She was still being fussed over waist down, having to get a small series of stitches to a small tear, but there she lay, nearly sitting and grinning broadly. He passed over the camera before sitting in the chair adjacent to the bed, eyes focused on Evelyn once more. "Look at me Sherlock." Molly softly guided.
His eyes bright and blue with emotion, lopsided and slightly goofy grin, hair mussed from the labor and shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow of his grey silk shirt, was forever immortalized with tiny Evelyn, knit pink cap and generic blanket.
"She's amazing." He said.
Molly, now finished and lying on her side resting as she watched her family bond giggled a little but. "Well I told you you'd have your gift by dinner. It looks like the wrapped one will have to wait. I hope you don't mind."
"Molly." His voice is thick and gravely, the tone sounds severe even to his own ears. Pausing he cleared his throat and starts again. "Molly, she's the best gift I could ever get.
"Then you don't mind sharing your birthday,every year with her?"
"With my little bee? Never!"
"Humm, Evie-bee. I like it." Molly sighed and laid back to rest.
Sherlock stared down into the face of the newborn who lazily blinked and stared back up at him. Her brow pinched up into a tiny version of his own curious face. Smiling, he began to hum the tune to 'happy birthday'. By the time he finished, Molly had drifted off to her well deserved sleep and the nurse cleared out as well.
"I can't wait to share this day with you each year Evelyn." He kissed the tiny hand and she cooed.
Nothing would ever be the same and he couldn't be happier.
A/N: In addition to it taking me forever to write this fic, I have also transgressed on naming my Helpers. Many, many have kept me going but I want to once again thank SherlollySmooch and TheLadyLillianRose along with Just-Mindy for little inputs here and there. SherlollySmooch most notably the big about Sherlock telling Molly to have no fear during the pushing. I hope I have done her, and that bit justice.
I myself have given birth twice, without the aid of medicine, but if id been in the UK... i'd be on that gas in a heartbeat. Seriously why cant we have the nice things that they have? I read up on the birth practices and I hope I've gotten them fair, if not please forgive me and lets write it off as artistic license alright? As for owning any of this... well I don't and I don't claim too.