Sherlock was panicking. He knew he was. But something was wrong. They had rushed Mary out of the room, John grasping her hand, shouting something about hemorrhaging. Sherlock was left standing in the middle of a now silent room. Then a nurse walked in, holding a squirming little bundle. The nurse had a somber expression on her face, suggesting that she knew of the situation. She began to speak, informing the consulting detective that these early hours were important and that the little girl, as yet unnamed, needed skin-on-skin contact. He didn't know what he was going to do or say until the nurse turned to walk out the door.
"I can do it."
Which is how Sherlock Holmes found himself settled in the room's recliner, shirt unbuttoned, tiny human cradled gently to his bare chest. Having been instructed on how to feed and burp the baby, the nurse had explained to Sherlock the reason behind the skin-to-skin contact, a fact that he appreciated. And then, she left. Sherlock was left cradling this tiny bundle. She squirmed, refusing to settle. Finally, Sherlock realized that, if he relaxed, she'd relax. And so he settled in, all but slouching in the chair to make the space the most comfortable he could for Baby Watson. And then, he began to speak to her. He told her stories of her brave father and fierce mother. He introduced himself to the little girl, telling her stories of his childhood. Then, both the littlest Watson and Sherlock Holmes fell asleep.
This was how John and Mary Watson found them when her bed was wheeled back into the room a few hours later. Sherlock had his large hand splayed gently, protectively over Baby Watson's back.
John Watson was feeling so many things, he almost couldn't begin to process them. He was coming down of a fierce adrenaline rush. Terror had been replaced with relief and joy was starting to creep back in. There was some disappointment that he and Mary had missed these early hours with their daughter. However, other than joy and exhaustion, John Watson was filled with a profound sense of pride at the care his best friend was showing with his daughter. John knew that Sherlock was uncomfortable with a great deal of touching, and even more uncomfortable with babies. However, he had been willing to put that aside for the sake of a tiny little girl who was less than 20 minutes old. John shifted his gaze from Sherlock to Mary, whose eyes were also resting on the slumbering duo.
"They're going to be inseparable, you know." She remarked casually, a tired grin on her face.
Mary had been saying since the beginning of the pregnancy that Sherlock was going to be involved and was going to take to this little girl. John knew she was glad to be proved right.
Her voice woke Sherlock from his slumber. The parents noticed that, those his eyes shot open, the rest of his body remained motionless, loose and relaxed so as not to disturb his tiny passenger.
The moment those tiny, blue eyes met his and those five tiny fingers wrapped around his, Sherlock was changed forever.