Martha remembered the day she had found out she was pregnant. She was so scared; she didn't know what she was going to do. It was Henry's, it had to be - Frank couldn't have children, and, even if he could, he wouldn't want them.
"Frank, I need to talk to you. The thing is, I'm pregnant."
"Is it that guy's? The one you've been seeing?"
"Of course."
"You're keeping it?"
"Of course I am. It's my child."
"Martha, that's not going to work for me."
"What do you mean?"
"The thing is, I have a plan to move us to America within the year, and that child is not part of the plan. So, do what you have to do, but either way, it's not coming with us."
She nodded and agreed; she had learnt that it was best not to argue with him.
But when she saw Henry, she told him everything; he held her as she cried, saying it would be okay.
"I want this baby so badly, but it's not safe, not in that lifestyle."
"Can you leave him?"
"The only way I can leave is if he gets sentenced."
"I can raise the child, if you want. I want this child, and I'll keep you updated after you moved."
"It's the only way, isn't it?"
He looked at her and nodded.
Molly's voice echoed round the flat. It felt like it was going on forever. He looked like he had been slapped in the face. It remind Molly of her face when she found out that morning.
She'd been feeling off for a week and a half now, so she went to Bart's to run a blood test. She didn't get round to finishing it because Sherlock had asked her to run that DNA test, so, on her way home, she made a stop into Boots to pick up a couple of pregnancy tests. She was meant to do them as soon as she got home, but was exushusted from her day at work. She decided she'd do it on her next day off.
She got the news she had been expecting. The signs had all been there. She was carrying a child. Sherlock's child. She sat in the bathroom for roughly fifteen minutes, just in shock.
She was kind of relieved when she got a text from the man in question.
Come to Baker Street at 1ish. I need to talk to you. It's important. - SH
She'd wondered what he needed now. Had he guessed what she needed to tell him? Of course, he must have. He knew everything.
"You're...You're...What?" He said, not able to get the words out.
"I'm pregnant, Sherlock."
"...Yes...Yes, you and Mary definitely won't be having wine anytime soon...Are you...Are you going to...keep it?"
"Of course I am. It's my child. I wouldn't do that."
Sherlock's mind went into overload.
"Sherlock, I think you should sit down."
Sherlock sat down and went into his mind place. He thought about how he could handle being a father. John had just became a father to little Rosie, and he was doing fine, but how could he do this? He thought about Molly being a mother - that made him smile. He could see her as a mother. If she was there, he'd be okay.
"You don't have to be involved, if you don't want to. I'd understand, you know."
He reached out and touched her hand, not looking at her, but staring at their fingers. "I might not be the best father, but I want to try."
"That's all I can ask." She smiled at him "It's ironic: the day I find out I'm going to be a mother, I find out who my own mother is. Is this the world being cruel?"
"I don't know, but maybe it's a sign that the world wants you to be a part of a family Molly Hooper."
"Sherlock, I don't think anyone should know for a while. With everything going on, I don't think it's safe."
"Whatever you think is best, Molly."
"Oh, and don't forget we've got Rosie's christening next week."
"Now why would I do something stupid like that?" He said, looking up and leaning in to kiss her.