A/N I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in like...months. This chapter isn't as long as I'd hoped but oh well.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, but I do own a Pop! Vinyl of him, but I don't think that counts.
Willow was worried. She was currently perched on her father's chair at 221b watching some old murder programme with Sherlock whilst her Mum was giving birth to her little brother at the hospital. She didn't know a lot about childbirth, but she knew it would hurt her mum and she didn't like that part one bit. Also, what if she and her baby brother didn't like each other? Her dad and her Auntie Harry didn't get along and Uncle Mycroft and Uncle Sherlock didn't get along so what if she and her brother were the same? She nibbled her fingernails in worry because if she didn't like her baby brother, her mum and dad would be mad at her, and then what would she do?
"Stop biting your nails." Sherlock told her, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Uncle Sherlock?" Willow responded.
"Yes?"
"What if I don't like my baby brother? You and Mycroft don't like each other and neither do Dad and Auntie Harry but mum and dad will be mad and upset if I don't like him. What if he's really annoying?" Willow questioned, muting the television.
Sherlock scooped her up and put her on his knee as tears began to pool in her dark blue eyes and her lip shook.
"Listen to me, Willow. You and your brother are going to love each other, trust me. When me and Mycroft were little we got along a lot better, and so did John and Harry but you are the sweetest, kindest person I know so of course your brother will like you and as soon as you step into the hospital room and see him, you'll love him to." Sherlock explained to the little Watson.
"How will I love him when I first see him? Babies look like little, screaming prunes!" Willow shot back, thinking of when she had been on a tube with two pink little babies that would not shut up.
"You looked like that when you were a baby." Sherlock replied, smirking at the look of disgust on Willow's face.
"I didn't! I was a cute baby!" She protested.
"All babies look like 'little, screaming prunes' as you put it, but then they get a bit older and start to look more and more like themselves. Plus, babies can't talk so they scream to try and tell you something." He explained.
Willow tilted her head to the side as she processed all this new information.
"So he'll just scream to try and tell us something? And he won't always look like a prune?" She asked.
Sherlock nodded in conformation as Willow hopped off of his knee and sat back on John's chair.
"I'm still not sure I'll love him when I see him." She frowned.
"You will." Was all Sherlock replied.
Sherlock and Willow had been reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire when the phone rang. Willow's eyes turned to the size of saucers and Sherlock quickly grabbed the phone.
"Sherlock, he's been born. You and Willow can come in." John beamed through the phone.
Sherlock congratulated him and hung up before helping Willow into her jacket, explaining to herthat she now had a little brother.
"I hope I like him." Willow said as they made their way down the seventeen stairs and hailed a taxi.
"You will." Sherlock repeated.
"Are you ready?" Sherlock asked, his hand ready to open the door.
They were stood outside Mary's hospital room and to say Willow was nervous was the biggest understatement of the century. She nodded and allowed |Sherlock to open the door for her as she tiptoed inside. Sat up in bed was her mum, holding a little baby, wrapped in a blue blanket with her dad sat next to them, looking over the moon.
"Hey guys." Mary smiled quietly, beckoning them over.
Willow was sure that everyone in the room could hear her heartbeat as she stepped towards her family. Sherlock lifted her up onto the bed next to her mum and she cautiously peered inside the blue blanket to see her baby brother. She smiled.
"You were right, I love him." She grinned at Sherlock.
John shot Sherlock a questioning gaze, to which he mouthed later.
"This is your little brother, Oliver Harry Watson." Mary told her, looking at her daughters face to try a gauge her reaction.
"Can I call him Ollie? Oliver's too long." Willow asked, her eyes not leaving the baby.
"Of course you can, sweetheart." Mary nodded, hugging her with her free arm.
"Ollie, just so you know, Uncle Lock is mine. You can have Uncle Greg." Willow told the baby.
"Mine name is Sherlock." Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"No." Willow denied.
Willow looked back to Ollie and grinned. If anyone hurt him, she'd break their nose.
