Chapter Twenty-Nine
Two weeks later...
It was a pleasant evening for the two of them. Even though it began very subtly and bluntly, not meaning anything, completely one-sided.
What turned into a one-sided, one-night fling turned into a baby. Nine months it was for them, full of endless worry and questions, confusion, and feelings being exposed. And now, it was no longer one-sided. It was mutual.
The evening wasn't too pleasant-sounding, nor did it begin one-sided. That evening, which wasn't really an evening and truly an early morning, started like most of them had for the past couple of weeks. Crying.
The baby had a cot in Sherlock and John's room at the moment, until the baby was old enough to have his own room upstairs. At present, he stayed downstairs, waking up his parents at two in the morning for the past week.
Sherlock groaned. Although she loved her child, the crying was starting to become annoying after the first couple of weeks, especially so early in the morning. Sherlock didn't sleep too often either and was usually awake, lost in thought, at this time of night.
John looked at her. "Do you want me to get him?" he asked. Knowing the answer, he sighed with a light smile, climbing out of bed and going over to pick up the baby. "Hey, AJ..." He spoke in soft tones, hushing the baby and rocking his body from side to side until he eventually calmed the baby down. John sat on the edge of he bed where Sherlock lay, holding Arthur as he gripped tightly to his father's finger. John smiled.
"You know," he said to the baby, but directing the conversation towards Sherlock, "I had this idea in mind. It was a good idea, but I don't think Mummy will be too fond of it." Sherlock turned to look at him in curiosity. "Then again, she probably already knows. She knows I love her dearly, but...I think I'd like her to marry me. What do you think? Do you think it's a good idea?" Arthur simply cooed. He patted tiny hands on his father's chest. "I guess not."
Sherlock was sitting up on the bed, smiling at John and the baby. John looked over to her. "I wonder what Mummy thinks of the idea. Why don't we ask her, hm?"
"You know he probably can't understand you," said Sherlock, laughing wearily. John handed the baby to her.
"I know," he replied, "but it's fun anyway just to talk to him. The sweet thing..."
"Have you thought about it?"
"You know I have. Have you?"
"A few times. I've considered the idea."
"Will you consider it now?"
"Maybe...but you were the one who said not being married didn't make us less of a family."
"That doesn't mean I don't want to get married. You know I do, because I love you, and there's no one else in this world I would spend the rest of my life with. And I know you don't want a man to tie you down or anything like that. We can just sign a marriage license and be technically married by law if you want, and everything could be as it was-"
"John, you do realize nothing is he same, right? We have a baby... Arthur is practically the man tying me down." John chuckled. "What I'm trying to say is...I'll consider it, okay?"
"For a minute, I thought you'd have a decision. You're usually one step ahead... Does it bother you? Marriage? Because we don't have to."
"Exactly."
"So?"
"How about we start with the marriage license idea? That way, we're technically married and we don't have to deal with family."
"Um...okay then. I'll take that as a yes. You hear that, AJ?" The baby had fallen asleep on his mother's shoulder. Sherlock sighed. "He's so excited he can't even stay awake." He motioned for Sherlock to hand him the baby, so she did, and he took him back to his cot.
It was that morning where the story came to some closure. John went after work to the court house to pick up a marriage form. Sherlock was at home, getting emails from Lestrade but working at home. Lestrade liked to be funny in the end comments, asking about how hard it was raising a baby.
"If you need help," he wrote in one, "don't be afraid to ask me for help. I've had kids myself. It's hard, but I'm sure if I could do it, you could." Another one wrote, "Thanks for introducing me to Molly. She's really nice."
When John came home, he noticed her there, sitting on the couch. The baby was next to her, lying on a blanket, wriggling a bit. John sat in between them, picking up his baby.
"How long has he just been next to you?" John asked, hearing the baby coo as he rested on his father's shoulder.
"All day," Sherlock responded, "obviously. If he was crying, I took care of it. Nappy, feeding, everything. It's all fine. See? I probably don't even need you."
John looked at her with a sigh. "You serious?" he asked.
"Of course I need you," Sherlock admitted, taking her eyes off of the laptop screen and shutting it quickly. "He cannot shut up. I need to think. Lestrade is sending me cases from home, and then he's crying, and I have to do everything while you're gone - you're late. You should've been home almost half an hour ago. Where were you?"
John was laughing at this point. It was almost joyous, Sherlock needing him so badly and admitting it. "At the courthouse. Why don't we get AJ to sleep, then we can talk, okay?"
"Sounds alright."
That was it. The end of an era of one-sided feelings and awkward silences. Sherlock and John sat at the table and discussed it once again. The papers were lain out on the table, and by the end of the night, ready to take back. Signed.
There was no ceremony. There didn't have to be one. John thought about buying a ring, but he couldn't bring himself to do it alone. She wouldn't like the selections he would probably pick out. In the end, she didn't seem to care for one until he noticed that she'd bought one without him. It was a beautiful ring, one he'd even seen at the store, one he'd considered purchasing himself, so he didn't mind.
Sherlock began working at home most days, sending reports via email or text to Lestrade. There were some days John would find himself alone with the baby, Sherlock having gone out to look at a body. She started leaving notes for John after the first few times, since John complained that it was a nuisance to have to unexpectedly be alone with the baby and have to go to work himself.
The matter of a babysitter was completely ignored. Sherlock had plenty of babysitting sources, such as Mrs. Hudson or Molly, people Sherlock actually trusted. John found a permanent babysitter in an old girlfriend, Mary Morstan, who was the last girlfriend he had before Sherlock, who openly admitted to him that he was in love with his flat mate more than he was with her. He almost proposed to Mary, but Mary got nothing out of the relationship. Mary gladly took the offer, having known he would settle with Sherlock in the long run.
As for John? He was happy. He had everything he wanted - Sherlock, a family. He thought it would be disaster, but it wasn't exactly as planned, with no big church wedding and everything not happening in the correct order that it should. John didn't really care at this point; he came that far, and that was all that mattered.
He would worry sometimes that it wasn't what Sherlock wanted. Of course it wasn't what she wanted, but maybe she didn't realize it was at first. He almost felt bad that he had done all of it, but he had to remind himself that she had been willing to do it all.
There was a night where he asked her. He walked out after putting Arthur to sleep, sitting in his chair across from Sherlock, her legs curled up onto the chair, a cup of tea. His goddess.
"Sherlock," John began, "are you happy?"
Sherlock looked at him with confusion. "Of course," she replied. "Surprisingly enough...although I wouldn't call it happy. Try...content."
"Content. Alright...I was just asking, because I feel like this is all my fault."
"What is? The baby? The marriage? What?"
"Yes. All of that. I feel like I forced you into all of it."
"It doesn't matter, John. It was partly my fault...I didn't realize you felt so guilty. Here I am, blaming myself for it all. I was the one who agreed to have sex with you, the one who got pregnant, the one who agreed to keep the baby and raise it, and the one who decided to marry you. You did your part. I had to go through mine..."
John looked at Sherlock with pity. He hadn't realized she felt that way. But then she continued to speak.
"...but you helped me. You could've left. You could've abandoned me alone with the baby. If you weren't here, imagine what I would do with him! He'd probably be dead by the second day."
John laughed. "How?"
"How? I dunno. I could smother it...I could get creative, cook him like the potato he is."
John continued to laugh. "Come in one morning, find his head in the fridge? Find baby limbs everywhere..."
Sherlock was laughing, too.
"This is terrible," John admitted. "We shouldn't laugh. It's our baby. We can't giggle about killing our baby and leaving it in the fridge."
"I would never do it now," Sherlock replied, "so that's what makes it funny."
John sighed, coming over to her, kissing her head. "I love you, Sherlock."
"Shut up, I know," Sherlock replied. "And kiss me like the man you are, Watson." She pulled him down by his jumper and kissed his lips softly, deeply, like she meant it. She did mean it. And he kissed her back, caressing her cheek.
The intense moment was ruined when the baby started wailing. They groaned.
"You're right," said John, "he doesn't shut up. He gets that from you. He's got dark hair, too. What's he going to get from me?"
"His gender," Sherlock answered. "And his ears. And he's warm like you."
John smiled at that. "I'll go get the potato from his pot," he joked as he got up. Sherlock laughed at that. John never got tired of her beautiful laugh. He hoped if his child got anything more from Sherlock, it'd be a laugh that could bring joy to a room, just like his mother.
The End.
