"What do you mean, no?" Sherlock asked as he slammed his cup down.
"Sherlock, I can't leave Maddy, it seemed like a good idea at first, but there's too many things that could go wrong. Like if one or both of us gets hurt, Maddy gets sick...I just can't put her in danger. I promised Sam." John said calmly.
"Well who gives a damn about a promise to a dead woman!? And together we could solve this so much quicker." He complained.
"You were going to work it before alone, why does this change anything?" John asked.
"If you didn't want to, you should have just told me so." Sherlock replied as he crossed his arms like an angry child.
"I want to, but I can't, I can't risk my daughter's safety. You said it yourself, I need to think about her first." John said, using his own words against him.
"Yes, well, I said that to help me win an argument, not to help you." He huffed.
John finished off the last overly sweet sip of tea before he started speaking again. "That's ridiculous, now stop this, you are acting like a child."
"I'll stop when you stop acting like my parent." He said.
"One of us have to be the adult here, and it's not going to be you!" John laughed. "Honestly, Maddy is more mature than you on most occasions!"
"That's not true." He said as he flopped into his chair and eyed the little girl next to him, calmly sitting on floor, looking up at him. "It's not!"
She just giggle in response to his melodramatic tone. Sherlock sulked as he sunk deeper into his chair, his face growing impossibly long as it did.
"Seriously, you need to grow up. You can't just huff and puff, and think that you are going to get your way." John said as he rounded the corner from the kitchen. "By the way, I was thinking about starting up at the surgery again, while you are away." He continued, hoping to change the topic.
"Why?" Sherlock asked indifferently, still pouting.
"I don't know. It's been a while, and I think it will keep my mind off things. Mrs. Hudson said she would watch Maddy until I can find another day home or a nanny." He said, almost smiling at the thought of having something to do other than change nappies and fix booboos...well, at least not Maddy's.
"That's unfair. To both myself and to your daughter. You can't be actually considering this." Sherlock said, still pouting.
"Ya well, maybe it's something I want to do. And who said life was fair?" John asked, realizing how cliché he sounded.
"Shut up, John." He said.
Just as he went to speak, he was met by a strongly raised finger and a stern scowl being added to Sherlock's expression. John tilted his head, hoping it would help him hear better...it didn't.
Sherlock raised one finger, then two, indicating two people, he soon added three more.
"Who?" John mouthed. His eyes flashing to his room, where his safe held his gun.
Sherlock saw John's eyes move, he shook his head, before an irritated snarl overtook his face. "Knocking is much more effective, brother dear."
Mycroft soon opened the green door and revealed himself, his assistant, and three of his henchmen. "Yes, but breaking it down is so much more fun." Mycroft said with an eerie grin.
"Mycroft, you have met Maddy." Sherlock said, waving in the child's direction.
"Mmmm, briefly. Hello John, it has been a while." Mycroft continued.
"Ya, I don't believe you have kidnapped me since, oh what, Christmas...no definitely New Years." John replied, before quickly correcting himself.
"It was January fifth, John, the fifth." Sherlock said in a stern tone as if repeating it would help.
"Not all of us have your memory, Sherlock. " John said, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, interrupt a domestic did we?" Mycroft laughed.
"Is there a reason for you and your goons to be here?" Sherlock asked, looking around.
John glanced over the crowd that seemed crushed into their small flat, noticing Tom standing toward the back, obviously feeling awkward.
"Why yes, actually. I heard that your latest case will involve some...questionable activity." He said as he prodded and rolled his umbrella's end into their hardwood floors,
"Not unlike all the other cases I have worked." Sherlock stated as he rolled his eyes for effect.
"Oh brother, if only you knew the troubles I go through, trying to keep you safe and out of trouble."
"Well your interest and concerns are unnecessary. "
"But think of how Daddy would feel if he were to catch wind of this." Mycroft grinned as he tilted his head down.
"Mycroft." Sherlock growled. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh wouldn't I?" He asked.
John leaned down and scooped Maddy off the rug, plopping her into his lap as he sat down. She brought her cubby little arms up and wrapped them around his neck, giving him a quick peck.
"Daddy? Who that is?" She asked.
"That is Sherlock's brother and all his friends." He said pointing toward Mycroft.
"Sherbrock brohmer?" She asked.
"Yes."
"I no like him. He make Sherbrock mad." She whispered into his ear, making John giggle. John smiled at his daughter, taking his turn for a kiss.
Sherlock grinned, knowing the child was on his side. It was nice to have someone look at him the way Madeline did, always smiling and looking at him like he was the most caring person in the world.
"No matter, you should probably be leaving. You are a busy man, Mycroft. What with running the world and all." Sherlock said as he stood up and almost pushed him out the door.
"Just remember what I said." Mycroft finished, taking his leave and waving goodbye.
Sherlock was content again once Mycroft left. Having him there made him feel like a trapped puppy, scared, angry, defensive, and a bit too whiny.
John held Maddy close, cuddling her and rubbing her back. It was almost time for her nap but he didn't want to put her down all hyper. He smiled as she curled her head into the crook of his neck. He could tell she was tired but he knew if he put her down now she would never sleep.
The silence since Mycroft left had been deafening, with only tension in the air. Sherlock sat, gripping the armrests of his chair in...anger? frustrating? grief? John saw the effect Mycroft had on his younger brother. It was almost always upsetting.
"Sherlock, Love?" John asked as he reached out his open hand and placed it overtop of Sherlock's.
"Mmm?" Sherlock answered absently.
"Would you play Madeline her lullaby? I think it would be just the thing to put her to sleep." John said, knowing the music soothed him.
Sherlock didn't reply, he just stood from his chair and headed towards the violin case that was neatly leaned against the wall. The care he took removing the instrument from it's holding, was breath taking. He ran his finger along the carefully varnished wood. Gently plucked each string, checking the tune. All before raising it to his arm, taking his bow, and playing the most beautiful songs John had ever heard.
John listened and said a silent thank you as Maddy drifted of into a dream, still resting against his chest. Sherlock continued to play, the lullaby constantly morphing and changing into another beautiful version of its carefully crafted self. John stood up cautiously, making sure not to disturb either Maddy, who he was still carrying, or Sherlock who was off in a world of his own making.
It wasn't until he put Maddy down that he realized the music had stopped. Sherlock crept up behind him and wrapped his unusually long arms around his strong man and kissed his neck. He knew all of John's sensitive parts and places, he knew exactly how to make his knees go weak.
"Would it be alright, if we just...cuddled?" Sherlock whispered, still holding onto him as if, at any moment, he would flee.
John turned, kissed him on the cheek, and led him to his bed. He knew Sherlock prefered to be the big spoon but this time he decided Sherlock could be the little spoon. Once Sherlock had laid down, John curled into him behind, holding him and gently kissing and exposed flesh he could reach. Sherlock was still, too still, unusually still. Even when he was in his mind palace, he still moved here and there. After a while John used the guise of brushing his neck to check his pulse. His heart was still beating and he was still breathing but he was a statued version of himself.
"Sherlock?" John whispered.
"Yes?"
"What's the matter?" He asked as he played with Sherlock's dark curls. He had always assumed his hair was black, but in this light it definitely seemed more like a dark dark brown.
"I...I..um." Sherlock stumbled.
"It's fine if you don't want to talk about it. You can tell me when you are ready." John said, resting his head on Sherlock's slender shoulder.
"Remember when you said you had secrets, and I told you I had plenty of my own. Well, Mycroft is one of my secrets." He said, still unmoving.
"What do you mean?" John asked, worriedly.
"When I was young, my parents always favored Mycroft. Everything he did was golden and I was just a tag along trying to catch up. My father hated to dole out punishments, so when he did, they were always very harsh, brutally so. He was "heavy handed" as he would later put it...but really...broken bones, black bruises, and slashes were being a little more than heavy handed." Sherlock stumbled and pause as he recanted his nightmare of a childhood, leaving John is shock.
"No one stopped him?" John asked, quietly.
"No." He said, almost whispered. He didn't talk for a time after that, but John was content to sit in silence, listening to Maddy breath.
"When I was fourteen, he kicked me out and told my mother I had runaway. I had no money, no food, no shelter or clothes. So I stole, using my skills and talents to scam and work money off of others. I fell into drugs shortly after. Then when I was eighteen he found me in a drug house, near death, barely a hundred pounds with track marks covering my arms. He apologized, but it was not sincere. He claims to have seen the errors in his ways but I still don't trust him." He finished, going from still to almost shaking.
"What happened after he found you?" John asked.
"Rehab, four to be exact, I kept escaping or insulting the nurses, so I kept being moved. After the fourth one I was deemed a loss cause, so being an adult they let me leave of my own will. I went back to the streets, stopped using drugs...well for the most part. I became a detective, using my talent for deduction to help me along. Eventually my trust or at least a portion of it was released to me, that helped me for quite a few years. I am hoping sometime soon Mycroft will deem me worthy of the rest." He finished, wiping away what John would call tears.
John kissed his shoulder and ran his fingers down his back, pulling him in as close as possible. Showing him how loved he truly was.
"I deem you worthy." John whispered into his back.
"Of what? I am unworthy of everything. Of you, of Maddy, of your love. I am so unworthy." He said, his voice cracking.
"You are worthy of everything. You are caring, loving, kind, intelligent, you are everything I could ever want you to be and more."
"I am also mean, and cruel, harsh, strange. John I am a disaster. I can't take care of you, I can't even help support Maddy."
"Stop, shut up. I don't ever want you to talk that way. You are amazing. That's where it stops. You need to stop this, you deserve everything you have. I don't need you to take care of me or support me, I just need you to be here. I love you and as long as I have you, I will be the luckiest man in the world." He said sternly.
They stayed like that for a while, until John fell asleep. Sherlock rolled out his arms and onto his side, looking at his John. His beautiful, amazing, loving John. This man who could carry the world on his shoulder and still be smiling. The afternoon sun peered in through the blinds, laying on John in strips of light. Making his blond hair look golden, his tanned skin like bronze, and his toned body look like that of a god.
Sherlock ran his fingers along his jaw, being careful not to wake him. He wanted to catalog every piece of John his curves, his scars, his every inch. He wanted to store him away, keep him just for himself, keep him safe. John was his. That was something he still couldn't reconcile with in his head. In his mind, there was no way John would ever chose him of all people to share his life with. If he was anything less than incredible maybe, but that was not the case.
John once asked him how he felt about Maddy, he had said that he cared for her and felt "sentiment", he now realized it was love, all along. She was a part of John, both genetically and mentally. She was a part of his soul. Any one who saw them together would instantly be able to tell he was her father, she had his eyes to a tee. Even her face shape and the way she held herself were like John. The only difference was her firey red curls in comparison to his straight blonde locks.
The realization hit Sherlock like a train. He finally had the family he had always wanted. He had never really thought he would have children seeing as he was the way he was, but yet there was Maddy, laying in her cot. Before her he would have never imagined the love of a child could be so powerful. It was like a slap in the face when John first told him he had a daughter, now he could not be more ecstatic about John's history of one night stands.
Though this love didn't take away his fears or the nightmares, but it did relieve some of the pressure. He still worried that he would become like his father, or that John would realize he wasn't the person he believed him to be and leave, or that somehow they would be torn apart. To Sherlock, none of these options were acceptable.
"Love? Why are you still awake?" John croaked as his eyes fluttered open.
"Thinking." Sherlock whispered.
"Stop, sleep." John said as he brought Sherlock back to his arms and held him close. "Shhh. Think later." He said as he drifted back to sleep