Sorry for such the long wait! I've just been so busy doing summer stuff! Please forgive me :)


4 Weeks

Molly Hooper

Molly was bending over Mr. Robert Cliff, examining the odd bruises that were on his arms. Even though it had only been about four weeks since the birth of the baby, she was at work, although her employer had said she could have two months leave. But Molly had insisted on coming back; it was either her or Sherlock, and since Sherlock never got any income from his line of work anyway, she decided that she should be the one working. Besides, looking after Alessa might lower his ego. Or make him worst than ever.

Sherlock was very proud. He never parted from Alessa, even to eat and sleep. He loved her so much that Molly was a little jealous. It probably was a good thing she had resumed her job, for, now that she thought about it, Sherlock would never do his job if it meant leaving Alessa, even if it was for an hour or two. Or, God forbid, he actually would take Alessa with him on his adventures.

She really didn't like the thought of that.

Lestrade had been over a few days after Alessa was born to see his new godchild. She thinks Sherlock regretted the decision of making Lestrade the godfather of his child, but what was done was done, and not even the great Sherlock Holmes could turn back time.

Alessa seemed to like Lestrade, although she seemed to like everyone she met, and for a split second Molly wondered if she would have liked Moriarty. It made her shiver, and she thanked her lucky stars that Moriarty was dead and that Alessa would never get the chance to meet him.

Molly's phone buzzed, distracting her from her thoughts.

I need your help -SH

Molly sighed.

I just got here. Deal with it yourself -MH

She turned back to her work, but her phone buzzed again.

I don't know what to do -SH

That was a first. Molly decided that it was better to speak to him rather than text.

"Molly?" Sherlock sounded panicked. Sherlock Holmes never sounded panicked.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" Molly sighed, wondering if she would be able to finish examining Robert Cliff that day.

"Alessa... it came from... there's white, there's white everywhere!" Sherlock now sounded like he was going insane.

"Sherlock, I'm coming, don't worry, I'll be there as fast as I can," Molly said, already putting on her coat. She was now scared and confused, thinking of all the things that could have possibly gone wrong in a half hour. Could Alessa have probably ingested something poisonous? Or perhaps she had gone missing? But she couldn't have gone missing, a logical voice in her head said, she can't even crawl yet.

But mothers were not logical, especially when they thought their children were in danger.

She threw some money at the cabbie, not caring about the change, and dashed into their flat, skipping every other stair until she reached the baby's room. She burst through the door.

Sherlock was standing over a screeching Alessa, pale, with a noticeable, worried, frown on his face. White spit-up was on his clothes and Alessa, and Molly immediately understood. She suddenly took control of the situation, and pushed Sherlock off to the side while he started blubbering about what had all happened.

"...I was holding her, and suddenly this white...stuff came shooting out of her mouth, and she started crying-"

"Could you get a towel?" Molly asked, completely ignoring him.

He left to get the item, and came back almost seconds later.

"Will she be alright?"

Molly looked up at him, and she noticed how stressed and worried he looked. Her stomach dropped, feeling horrible about how terrible he looked.

"Of course, it's just a bit of spit-up."

"Then why is she crying?"

"Wouldn't you if you had just thrown up for the first time? Just get her a bottle of warm milk and she'll be fine."

Sherlock nodded and went to fetch the bottle while Molly cleaned up the rest of Alessa. She then took her in her arms and rocked her slowly back and forth, calming her down. When Sherlock returned, Alessa was back to her usual calm state. He set the bottle on the dresser and Molly handed her back to him, and his expression changed almost immediately.

His face softened, and he gazed at Alessa like she was the only thing in the world. He started humming, something that Molly didn't believe was possible until a few weeks ago, and Alessa closed her eyes.

Molly left, knowing that Sherlock no longer cared if she was there anymore. She sighed with relief as she got into a cab, now knowing that her daughter was safe.

But when she was leaning over Robert Cliffs again, she started worrying about Sherlock's health. She had not seen him eat nor sleep for a few weeks ago, and that is a long time, even for Sherlock. She couldn't tell how sick and tired he was until she saw him today. Not to mention he had acted like the world was ending when Alessa had been crying.

Maybe Molly could take a couple of days off to take care of Alessa and slip Sherlock a few sleeping pills in a meal that she would force him to eat. It wouldn't hurt him to get away from Alessa for that long.

Would it?


If I get anything wrong with how to take care of a baby, please notify me.

I hoped you liked this chapter, and the next one probably won't take as long to update.