Take This Hand, We Can Do It.
Authors Note: Oh my, I'm sorry this has taken me so long to write. I've been busy and every time I've gone to write it something has come up. I would have written this Sunday but something happened and it's got me in the worst mood ever. I'm finally starting to accept what's happened and so here I am. I finally know where this story is going; I haven't planned it yet but I actually have a whole idea now. I really hope you like it. OH! And someone actually got it right about what is going to happen. I won't tell you who, I don't want to spoil the update. So without further ado, here is chapter four.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Sherlock. I do own Elizabeth though.
Chapter Four: The Fourth Month.
John Watson could think of only one way to describe the person Sherlock Holmes became when around Elizabeth; he was father-like.
It was endearing.
It was by far the oddest sight John had ever seen.
John could quite clearly remember the first day Sherlock had held Elizabeth.
He wished he had photo evidence of it.
Sherlock hadn't held her much since then.
Elizabeth had just reached a month and a half in breathing.
Sherlock visited the Watson's every day, even when he was on a case.
John was currently off cases; he wanted family time.
Begrudgingly, Sherlock had agreed.
John assumed it was because he knew the detective had a weak spot for his daughter, whether he let it be known or not.
On this particular day though, John had caught Sherlock studying his daughter.
He had found it rather amusing.
"What are you doing?"
"Observing."
"Elizabeth?"
Sherlock gave no reply.
John rolled his eyes at his friends silence and went from another angle instead.
"Why are you observing her?"
"Babies are just like adults, they are easy to read but there's something so different about them. They give in to everything they want; they do not hold back. If they are hungry, they let it be known. If they are tired, they scream and cry until they fall asleep. If they want attention, they moan until they get it. It's all rather intriguing."
A smile was curled on John's lips as he listened to Sherlock.
"Have you never seen a baby before?"
"I've steered clear of them."
John nodded.
Of course.
"I also believed they were a nuisance, I still do. Elizabeth is different though. She's not like every other baby."
John nearly laughed at that.
He certainly was like a father to her.
"Why's that?"
Sherlock's eyes snapped to his friends in a way that said 'keep up, John!'
"What?" John asked, incredulous.
"It's like I can see her looking back at me."
"That's because she is looking back at you, Sherlock."
Sherlock sighed dramatically.
"No, John! It's as if I can see her really looking at me, observing me."
"I'm sure she's not figuring everything detail out about you, Sherlock."
"It's possible. She is partly your daughter and you aren't the most absentminded person I've ever met."
John rolled his eyes.
"I'll try to take that as a compliment."
Sherlock ignored him.
John watched him.
"Have you even held her?"
"Why would I want to hold her?"
A frown knitted its way across Sherlock's features.
"Because she's your goddaughter and that's what people do."
"I'm not most people, John."
"You are when it comes to Elizabeth."
Sherlock's eyes shot to John's and he glowered at him.
John held his hands up in surrender with a laugh.
"OK. OK. Sorry."
John moved to where Elizabeth laid on the floor, he bent down and picked her up while cooing at the little girl who was smiling up at him.
Sherlock watched John as he moved around the room, rocking the little baby.
Sherlock's eyes shifted to the clock, it was almost time for the little girl to sleep.
The dark, curly haired, consulting detective slowly moved to sit down in the chair he had claimed as his at the Watson's.
He shut his eyes and slowly began to slip in to his mind palace.
He was currently on a case.
He was currently on a case and having trouble figuring out where to go next.
He had come to the Watson's to try and clear his mind; he'd also missed Elizabeth.
He wouldn't admit that though.
Perhaps if he–
Sherlock was rocked out of his mind palace as he felt a warm, heavy buddle be thrust in to his arms.
His eyes slipped open and fell to the now sleeping Elizabeth in his arms.
"J–"He was cut short.
"Shush, Sherlock! Don't you dare wake, Elizabeth; she was easy to get off today. If you wake her she might not be so easy to get back."
"John, I'm busy!"
"Sherlock, quiet!" John whisper-cried.
Sherlock glared at him.
"I'm busy."
"You're at my house. If you were busy you should be at Baker Street."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed further.
John ignored him, smiled and left the room.
Sherlock looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms.
She was heavy.
His arm was already hurting.
He shifted slowly and softly, being careful as to not wake her.
Sherlock's head tilted to the side, he began to observe the little one again.
She was a truly magnificent being, even in her sleep.
One of his fingers reached out and swept over her cheek in a slow, gentle movement.
He smiled.
He leant back in to the chair, getting comfortable with her there before slipping back in to his mind palace to the thoughts John had interrupted.
From the doorway, John stood watching his best friend.
The thought that crossed his mind was one he would have never believed five years ago: Sherlock Holmes would make a wonderful father.
He laughed to himself.
Sherlock didn't even know it.
John shook his head and made his way to the kitchen to find Mary.
Elizabeth Watson was now three months old.
Today was her christening.
Mary and John had thought it was only right for both of their best friends to take on the role of godparents.
Mary had chosen a woman called Harley Smith.
John, of course, had chosen Sherlock.
The two godparents were completely opposite of one another.
Harley was very hands-on.
Sherlock was rather a sit-and-observe kind.
Harley enjoyed taking Elizabeth out for strolls.
Sherlock preferred to sit in 221b, showing Elizabeth interesting things from cases and experiments.
Mary had once caught him showing Elizabeth a human heart.
After John had heard about that, he had almost murdered Sherlock and told him he wouldn't be able to have Elizabeth round if there were any organs or body parts in the flat.
It was safe to say that after that day, Sherlock had made sure that whenever Elizabeth was around there were no organs or body parts around, too.
Harley was always the first to volunteer to babysit.
Sherlock only agreed if there was literally nobody else.
Harley spoiled Elizabeth rotten with presents.
Sherlock spoiled Elizabeth rotten with secret smiles.
John knew Sherlock hadn't realised that anyone had seen him all those times; John was sure he hadn't seen Sherlock smile so much in all the time that he had known him as much as he had since Elizabeth was born.
Elizabeth Watson brought the tender, human side out in Sherlock.
Elizabeth Watson was truly an extraordinary little girl.
The christening ceremony had gone splendidly.
John had been amazed with Sherlock.
He hadn't quite expected Sherlock to take it seriously.
But throughout Sherlock had listened intensely to every word that had been spoken.
He performed his part to perfection, of course.
John was thankful.
Sherlock was now officially Elizabeth's godfather.
Harley was now officially Elizabeth's godmother.
It gave him a sense of clam.
It gave him a sense of peace.
Now, no matter what happened to him and Mary, he knew their daughter would be taken care of and not thrown in to a care home.
He was sure she would rot away in one.
So many children did.
He didn't want that future for his daughter.
He wanted to be sure that his daughter's future would be the best she could possibly have, even if he wasn't there to witness it or help bring it upon her.
Currently, they were at the christening reception.
John was quite honestly entertained with how Sherlock was handling everything.
The expression on his face was one of intense frustration as he listened to John's sister, who was far too drunk, rattling on about her latest ex.
John's interest piqued as Molly Hooper came over and stole Sherlock away.
She dragged him to the dance floor.
Sherlock seemed relieved.
Sherlock seemed relieved and was now dancing with Molly Hooper.
John found himself shocked at the scene before him.
Sherlock was relieved while dancing.
Dancing with Molly Hooper of all people!
He laughed to himself.
So much had changed.
He still didn't quite understand the friendship between the detective and the pathologist.
He approved, nevertheless.
It was much better than the relationship they had shared five years ago.
That had been awful and so hard for John to witness without flinching.
Sherlock had lived up to his 'heartless bastard' status with the way he had treated Molly.
John smiled, to himself.
He much appreciated the scene before him now.
Mary slipped up behind her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"I can't decide whether you're checking Sherlock or Molly out."
John full on laughed.
"Sherlock; you know you're my cover up and I'm really in love with my former roommate."
Mary giggled, leaning her chin on to his shoulder.
"They make a cute couple."
John nodded his head in agreement.
"Shame Sherlock doesn't do relationships."
"I wouldn't say he doesn't do relationships," John started, "it's more like he doesn't understand them. He's not quite good at observing what's in front of him when it's to do with feelings; as Lestrade would say: it's not his division."
Mary let out an 'hmm.'
"Where's Elizabeth?"
"With Harley."
John rolled his eyes.
"I should have guessed."
"She dotes on her."
"So does Sherlock."
"Sherlock's more reserved. It's like you said, he isn't good with feelings."
John nodded.
He glanced towards the dance floor where Sherlock was twirling round a laughing Molly.
Odd.
He then turned his wife, pushed her to the wall and kissed her sweetly.
That was a month ago now.
Elizabeth was four months old.
She was currently in the living room of 221b.
Sherlock was sitting, knees to his chin, palms pressed together, in his chair.
Molly was currently in the kitchen, preparing lunch for Elizabeth and Sherlock.
Mary and John were on their way to the airport to see Harley off.
She was going on a year trip around Australia.
No one had been available to babysit Elizabeth and so Sherlock, begrudging, agreed.
He had then enlisted Molly's help, claiming he couldn't get the little girl to stop screaming after her parents had left.
Molly had instantly come – she had been out with her boyfriend.
They weren't just seeing one another anymore; it was getting serious.
She had entered the flat and found Sherlock glaring at his goddaughter.
"Oh, thank heavens, Molly! Sort her out!"
Molly had rolled her eyes and picked the little girl up.
Her nappy had needed changing.
Sherlock wrinkled his nose as Molly had informed him.
"And what do you expect me to do about that?" Sherlock had raised an eyebrow.
"Change her nappy." Molly stated.
Sherlock had looked at her in a dumbfounded manner.
Molly had to contain her laughter.
It was such an odd look to see on the man before her.
"I'll do it."
Sherlock let out a sigh of relief and Molly giggled before grabbing the supplies and ridding the baby of her problem.
Once done, she had placed Elizabeth back in the playpen, set up, and turned to Sherlock.
"I'll be going then."
"Stay."
Molly raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"I don't know how long they are going to be gone. I don't know much about looking after her… I've only had her alone for an hour at the most before. I've never had a problem with her before, not like today."
Molly had simply nodded and sat down in the chair that had previously been John's.
When Elizabeth had begun to cry later that day, Molly had discovered she was hungry.
With the mention of food, Sherlock realised it had been at least three days since his last proper meal and had demanded food, also.
That was how Molly found herself in 221b's kitchen, preparing the separate meals.
While she was setting out the plates for the food to go on, the phone begun to ring.
"Molly, phone."
"Sherlock, I'm busy."
"It's by my skull."
"Sherlock!"
Molly got no answer from Sherlock.
He didn't move.
She sighed.
She moved towards the phone and picked it up, all the while glaring at the man in that incredibly sexy purple shirt.
"Hello?"
"Hello, can I speak to a Mr Sherlock Holmes, please?"
"I'm sorry. He can't come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?"
"It's rather urgent."
Molly's eyebrows pulled together.
"May I ask what it's about?"
"I have some unfortunate news about a Dr. John Watson."
Molly paled.
She went still.
Her eyes slipped over to Sherlock.
He was studying her, clearly intrigued by the changes in her.
She gulped.
Sherlock frowned and reached his hand out to take the phone.
Molly handed it to him.
"This is Sherlock Holmes."
"Hello, Mr Holmes, my names Dr. Elijah Reid from St. Thomas's hospital."
"I don't care who you are; get to the point." Sherlock interrupted, eyebrows knitting together.
"Right. Well, uh– I'm calling to inform you that there has been an accident–"
"What kind of accident?" Sherlock asked, harshly.
"A car accident," the doctor informed in a gentle voice.
Sherlock said nothing.
He looked almost looked... lifeless.
"There were three occupants in the car, Dr. John Watson, Mary Watson, and Harley Smith. A lorry lost control on the motorway and flipped over, hitting their car; they passed on impact. I'm sorry, Mr Holmes. I'm so sorry…" Dr Reid trailed off.
Sherlock didn't reply.
His finger hit the off button; the phone clattered to the floor of 221b.
It sounded like a gunshot had gone off; Mrs Hudson would be calling up the stairs in a few moments inquiring, surely.
Molly's suspicions were confirmed.
John was dead.
Mary was dead.
Harley was dead.
She felt numb.
Tears were beginning to prickle in the corner of her eyes.
She watched Sherlock.
He looked dead himself.
She wondered if he was for a moment.
That nearly broke her heart.
She was sure he wasn't though.
There was still something alive in him.
She could tell.
She could tell because she saw the direction his eyes fell.
He was staring at the playpen.
He was staring at Elizabeth Jayne Watson, a now orphaned four month old baby girl.
Authors Note: There it is… I'm so sorry the update I had to give you was a depressing one. I tried to balance it with cute scenes. I like it. I hope you do, too. Please let me know? I hope I haven't lost too many readers. You are all amazing! I'll try to update soon but I'm a little busy with Sixthform and friends this week. I love you all.
Thank-you for reading!
Petal.