"Have you contacted the mother yet?" Sherlock asked from his place at the kitchen table. He was looking through his microscope.
"I've been trying, Sherlock." John replied, not taking his eyes off of Lana. He'd been calling and texting for nearly two weeks. He and Lydia had dated for nearly six months and he mentally kicked himself for not getting her parent's number or at the very least an email. After the case with the hound he decided to end the relationship. Sherlock's work was taking up too much of his life and it hadn't been fair to Lydia.
But right now none of that mattered. He was bathing Lana in the sink and the smile could not be wiped off his face. Lana was starting to sit up by herself. "I don't know where Lydia is or what happened to her." Lana looked up at the sound of her father's voice and smiled at him. John closed his eyes for a moment and resisted the urge to curl up in a ball, all other thoughts immediately fleeing his brain. He smiled widely at her again. "Who's daddy's beautiful girl?" He asked theatrically. Lana screeched in delight and splashed in the water. "Yes! You are!" John giggled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"Oh for God's sake, John." Sherlock scoffed.
Lana hummed and huffed as her head turned toward the sound of Sherlock's voice, eyes bright. "That's my girl. You tell that silly man how ridiculous he is." John nodded his approval.
Sherlock sighed dramatically and stood to leave the kitchen. "I am not the ridiculous one, John. You are the one pretending to have a conversation with her."
John rolled his eyes as he began to dry Lana off with a towel. "It's important to her development." He lifted the baby out of the sink, wrapped her up and followed Sherlock into the living room. "What's ridiculous is the fact that you can resist this cute little face!" He held Lana out toward the detective. She shrieked gleefully and reached her arms out to him.
Sherlock's face twitched and he turned on his heel and grabbed his violin. John smiled and held Lana close again. Sherlock would crack one of these days, he was sure of it. He went upstairs and changed Lana. He brought her back downstairs and set her on the blanket that was spread between the arm chairs. Lana immediately grabbed for a stuffed pink kitten, burbling happily. John was thankful that she was a happy baby. She didn't really fuss unless she was hungry or needed a diaper change. He was beyond thankful that she slept so well, only waking once or twice in a night. She was getting better. John sank down in his chair and leaned his head against the back. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of Sherlock's violin wash over him.
Sherlock turned and watched Lana chew on her stuffed kitten, her eyes were fixed on him however. He always felt a small well of pride when the child watched him in rapt fascination as he played his violin. He took a few steps closer to her and sat down on the floor, changing his tune to a nursery rhyme that his favourite nanny used to sing to him. He flicked his eyes to John as the other man sighed gently. John was exhausted, had been since Lana had arrived. That was to be expected with a baby though. He hadn't shaved this morning. Sherlock's mouth twitched. He preferred John clean shaven. John stirred a little more and cracked an eye open, ghost of a smile playing his lips. He began singing along lightly with Sherlock's playing. Sherlock felt his breath catch and a smile creeped onto his face.
Sherlock played and John sang until John nodded off. Sherlock stopped playing and watched John for a while until Lana started making frustrated noises. She was trying so hard to keep her head up, but her muscles weren't strong enough to keep her head lifted for long periods of time yet. Sherlock put his violin away and lay on his stomach, head level with Lana's, but his body sprawled toward the couch. Lana seemed to calm and rested her head back on the blanket. Sherlock examined her face carefully; it seemed to change every day. Her cheeks were chubby, chin perpetually covered in drool. Her eyes were doe-eyed like John, but a brighter shade of blue. Lana's hand came up and smacked Sherlock on the nose.
"Hey!" He threw his head away from her reach. Lana cooed happily and smiled at him. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, but felt a smile appear on his face that he couldn't help. "You are a demon child." He told her darkly. "Turning John's brain to gelatin and now look, you've resorted to violence." Lana made 'ooh' sounds as she kicked her feet. "You're right. You must get it from John. He has punched me in the face before." Lana's face lit up in a giant grin as she shrieked happily and grabbed for Sherlock's nose again. "Shush, you'll wake John." He whispered to her. "Your daddy needs to be in a good mood if we're all to survive." Lana giggled as she squeezed Sherlock's nose. Sherlock laughed gently and he rested a hand lightly on her head. He couldn't believe how soft she was. "I suppose John is right," He told her. Her eyes moved to Sherlock's lips and her hand followed. Her tiny fingers pressed pleasantly against Sherlock's skin. "You are rather amazing. But don't tell your daddy I said that." He kissed her fingers gently, an unfamiliar warm thrill shooting through him. They chatted until she fell asleep as well.
Sherlock was called into the morgue the next morning to help examine a body for a case. Mrs Hudson insisted on watching Lana so that John could go along. John almost felt guilty about being relieved to get out of the flat and not have to worry every second that Lana was okay. Mostly, he was glad to see Sherlock wired to be on another case. They reached the morgue and met Lestrade.
"Christ John, you look like hell!" Lestrade commented. He hid his concern well.
John racked his brain for an excuse.
"The baby's kept him up recently." Sherlock said offhandedly, brain totally focused on the case at hand.
"Baby?" Lestrade exclaimed, incredulous.
John's shoulders drooped and his head lolled back, angry that he hadn't told Sherlock that this was a matter he didn't want to discuss with the Yard. "It's not what…"
"Yes, John got a woman pregnant and she left the result on our door step." Sherlock told the DI. He walked passed a body that was so obviously a suicide on one slab on his way to the one he was meant to examine. "Been looking everywhere for the mother. Even Mycroft has been unable find her." Something caught his eye. He froze.
"Jesus, John. Really?" Lestrade asked.
John sighed heavily and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Today's events seemed to leave the DI and the doctor nearly speechless. "My croft? Sherlock…"
"Where's Molly?" Sherlock interrupted, question directed at Lestrade.
"She's getting a family to claim this body that we pulled out of the Thames." Lestrade answered, motioning to the woman Sherlock had just passed.
Sherlock took in a big breath. "Sorry, Lestrade, something's come up. Terribly busy. Can't help anymore today." He grabbed John by the shoulders and spun him so he was facing the door. He pushed him toward the exit.
"Sherlock, wait what?" Lestrade stuttered, obviously confused.
Then Molly was at the door, leading in an older couple. Sherlock gripped John's shoulders so he couldn't move. The woman looked at John as if she recognized him from somewhere.
"Time to go!" Sherlock said quickly.
"Yes, this is my daughter." The older man said. The woman began to wail. "No! No, my poor Lydia!"
Sherlock felt John tense. "What?" he muttered under his breath. Sherlock slammed his eyes closed.
John turned back into the room and took a step closer to the couple that hovered around the body. "Oh my God." John said weakly, head shaking with disbelief. He looked down at the woman on the slab. Tall, thin, pale, dark brunette. It was Lana's mother. "Lydia, no."
The older woman looked up at him, tears on her cheeks. "YOU!" She screeched. "I knew I recognized you! John Watson isn't it?" She started pulling a piece of paper out of her coat pocket. "This is your fault. You did this to her!" She threw the sheet of paper at him. He caught it unconsciously. "You monster!" The woman's husband had to restrain her. "How could you? She loved you!"
John was frozen to the spot. His brain was not functioning. He could not wrap his mind around what was happening in this moment. Lestrade stepped in between the woman and John. He was saying something but all John could hear were muffled voices. He felt Sherlock grab his hand and pull him out of the morgue. His eyes caught Molly with her hands over her mouth, expression torn between apologetic and grieved. John didn't look at the paper until they were in the cab back to Baker Street.
I couldn't do it anymore. I just needed him in my life. I thought I could catch him by getting pregnant, but Lana just made the separation worse. I can't live without him. I can't live with her in my life and not him as well. Don't worry, the baby will be taken care of. You won't have to worry about me making anymore stupid mistakes like this. I love you guys. I'm sorry.
Lydia.
John was numb. He couldn't believe what he just read. He stared ahead in the cab. He felt Sherlock take the letter out of his. It was his fault, his fault that Lydia had made this kind of decision, his fault that Lana didn't have a mother. His fault, his fault.
He felt Sherlock's hand close around his. He looked down in utter surprise and then up to the detective. Sherlock's face was sympathetic. "It is not your fault, John." Sherlock told him gently.
John scoffed sadly and looked out the window, yanking his hand out of Sherlock's grip. When the cab stopped in front of their flat, John launched himself out of the cab and headed straight inside, slamming the front door open. Mrs Hudson came out of her flat and followed him upstairs, calling confusedly after him. Lana was fussing.
"John, I don't know what it is. She's been fussing and she's not hungry or tired and I changed her diaper." She was saying.
John whirled on her. He wasn't sure what expression his face held, but it shut Mrs Hudson up instantaneously. Lana started crying. Sherlock stalked up the stairs as John started throwing books about the flat. Lana screamed, tears running down her face. Sherlock put a hand on Lana's back and the baby reached toward him. Mrs Hudson let her go, jumping as a book thumped against the wall, too close to a window for comfort.
"Mrs Hudson, it might be best if you went back to your own flat now." Sherlock told her gently, holding Lana close to him.
"All I did was tell him I didn't know why the baby was fussing!" the land lady exclaimed miserably.
"I know, but John's having a rough day." Sherlock replied, forcing a smile. He nudged her toward the door and Lana cried louder against his chest. Once Mrs Hudson was out of the flat, Sherlock turned to his flat mate. "John." He said sternly.
"WHAT SHERLOCK?" John screamed at him, eyes flashing dangerously. Lana shrieked in fear and John's expression softened. "Oh, oh no. My baby girl." John walked over, arms out stretched.
Sherlock turned the shoulder Lana was pressed into away from John. "Have you calmed down enough?" He asked hotly.
John stopped inches away from Sherlock. His jaw muscles seemed to be working overtime. Sherlock felt his own expression soften and he held an arm out.
John's face broke and he let himself lean into Sherlock's shoulder as a sob ripped out of his chest. Sherlock ran his hand through John's hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner. Lana had calmed some and she turned toward her father. She put a hand on John's cheek, hiccupping from her own cries. John turned his face toward his daughter, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of him. He put an arm around Sherlock's torso to anchor himself and took Lana in the other one. Sherlock wrapped his arms around the both of them. Lana, finished with her own tears, cooed at her father. "There's a good girl, Lana. You tell your daddy what a good man he is." Sherlock said softly. He knew he was treading on thin ice. He'd never shown his affection for John like this before. He knew John was fragile now, but he didn't know quite how to react to this kind of situation. Normally he wouldn't do anything, but he couldn't let that happen with John. John meant too much to him. Sherlock sighed as John's shoulders continued to shake. He was at a loss so he acted on impulse, kissing the top of John's head and then resting his cheek there. He felt John hug him closer and he reciprocated. Lana leaned into Sherlock's chest while her forehead rested on John's cheek.
Though he supposed it wasn't quite the best situation for these feelings, Sherlock couldn't help but feel a little overcome by a burning warmth in his chest; so happy to be surrounded by these two humans. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so whole.
A few hours later, after Sherlock had made tea and ordered a takeaway, he found John upstairs, laying with Lana in their bed. Sherlock knocked quietly and John motioned for him to come in. Sherlock walked over to the side of the bed that John wasn't lying on and stood awkwardly, looking down at the sleeping baby.
"Go ahead."John said, sounding so defeated. Sherlock felt something tug in his heart as he lay down in the bed as well. They both watched Lana sleep for a long time. "I feel stupid, you know." John said quietly, resting a hand on Lana's belly. Sherlock looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together. "I was careless with the sex because she told me she was on the pill. Which she was, I had seen the packaging at her flat." John sighed. "Guess she stopped taking it when I started pulling away from her."
Sherlock placed his hand gently over John's hand. "You can't blame yourself. Her actions were completely irrational. Your actions were soundly justified."
John's eyes were trained on where their hands met. "You kissed me earlier." John whispered after a few moments.
Sherlock's heart doubled its speed. "So? You kissed me the other week." He was trying very hard to keep his voice even.
John looked up at him. "Why did you?"
Sherlock opened his mouth but words, for once, were failing him.
John felt a thrill of nervousness. He'd only seen Sherlock like this around The Woman. Words seemed to tumble out of his mouth. "Would you kiss me again?"
Sherlock gaped at John but only for a moment before his brain kicked in again. "Only if you would let me."
Leaning carefully over the baby, John pressed his lips to Sherlock's. He wasn't quite sure what his body was doing. It seemed to be seeking out comfort in the closest outlet possible. He felt Sherlock relax into the kiss and that's when his brain revved. He pulled away quickly. "Oh, God. Sherlock, I'm sorry." His cheeks flushed.
Blinking back surprise, Sherlock muttered his own apologies as he got up to try and process this new information. But John's hand tightened around his wrist. He looked back, confused.
"You don't have to leave," John looked away sheepishly. "I - I actually wouldn't mind the company."
Sherlock's heart was nearly beating out of his chest. "All right." Sherlock relaxed back into the bed. John sighed, closing his eyes and putting his face into his pillow. "You should really sleep, John." Sherlock said quietly. "It's been a long day." John nodded. "I'll take care of Lana if she wakes up." He promised.
John smiled. "Thank you."
Sherlock watched John as the other man fell asleep. Finally he pulled his hand away and touched his long fingers to his burning lips. His brain was racing a thousand miles a minute. Where would they go from here?
A/N: Apparently, I can't write a fic without someone breaking down in sobs. Sorry about that.