Chapter 16

The midwife had honestly found it a bit strange. There were two men waiting for Molly Hooper to deliver her baby, but neither of them was the father.

The first one had arrived in a taxi with the mother-to-be, a bit frantic and claiming to be a doctor. The staff had received a call from the hospital director himself informing them of their arrival. Molly had been taken in charge by the obstetric team and John was shown the way to the waiting room - he had tentatively offered to stay with her, but looked rather relieved when she declined.

They were followed shortly after by a second man. This one was wearing an impeccable suit and was greeted personally by the head of the service.

It had been an emergency arrival, but things were now not progressing all that quickly. They had been waiting for almost two hours now. Anthea entered the room, Blackberry in hand, and informed her boss:

"I've called Miss Hooper's parents and sent them a car. They should be here in a few hours."

"Good, thank you."

Mycroft Holmes taped his umbrella on the floor. He looked as impassive as always, but he was in fact highly irritated. This was not how things were planned. The baby was not supposed to be born now, and certainly not in an NHS hospital. Well, at least it hadn't happened in the taxi, which would have been embarrassing.

John Watson was seated next to him, twisting his fingers and blaming himself. He shouldn't have insisted upon Molly going out if she was tired. He knew it was ridiculous to worry, but he would never forgive himself if anything went wrong that night. Telling himself to stop being an idiot and panicking over a perfectly normal process, he started thinking back over the events of the past months and the surprising path his life had taken. He couldn't help but giggle nervously.

"What is it?" asked Mycroft.

"I don't know. It's just… the whole situation is a bit…"

"Unusual?"

"Yeah… this isn't how my average night at the pub usually ends."

Mycroft hesitated for a moment and said: "You know, the only time I've waited in a maternity ward before was for Sherlock".

John looked at him in slight surprise. Mycroft never usually spoke about himself.

"How old were you?"

"Seven. But I already knew it would be the last peaceful day of my existence."

"What kind of baby was he?" asked John.

"Well… noisy."

"I can imagine."

The two men exchanged an amused look. Then an awkward silence followed, as always when Sherlock's memory was evoked.

"I can't believe it's been six months already" said John shaking his head. "I went to Baker Street the other day. Mrs Hudson told me you're still paying the rent, and that Sherlock's things are still upstairs."

An unreadable expression passed over Mycroft's face. "I like to go there sometimes… to think."

"You miss him, don't you?"

He nodded. "It was not always like that, between us. We used to get along."

"What happened?"

He sighed. "When he was nine… Sherlock found out our father was having a... liaison. He wanted to confront him. I tried to talk him out of it but… you know how stubborn he could be. Our father called him a liar. He said Sherlock had always been… troubled. I knew my brother was right, but… I didn't say anything. I wanted to protect the family from upheaval." His voice was bitter with self-reproach.

He paused for a moment then continued: "I… betrayed my brother and he never forgave me. All for nothing, because our parents got a divorce anyway. Our father died five years later; Sherlock had never seen him again."

"I'm sorry", said John. "Believe me, I know about complicated sibling relationships. I think he knew you cared for him in your own way. Now… how do you feel about becoming an uncle?"

"Let's say it is rather… unexpected."

"What do you think he would have thought about it? Being a father?"

"I don't think it is something he ever… considered. But I know that if he were here tonight, he would already have driven half the staff insane!"

The midwife suddenly entered the room and called their names: "Mr Watson? Mr Holmes?"

The two men jumped from their seats at the same time.

"Lovely news - the baby is born. It's a little girl in perfect health. Mum's tired but she'll be fine - we didn't need to go for a C-section in the end, baby came out bottom first with no instrumentation and only a couple of stitches."

John sighed in relief, whilst Mycroft grimaced squeamishly. "Can we see her?"

"Yes, but not for too long, and one at a time".

They looked at each other and decided John would go first. Once he had left, Mycroft turned to the midwife:

"I have given a list of authorised visitors to hospital security. If anyone else asks to see Miss Hooper or the baby, I must be informed immediately - is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir", replied the confused woman, looking vaguely impressed.

"Oh, and by the way, do you have the weight?"

She looked at her charts. "Yes, 7 pounds 8 ounces. Nice healthy weight."

"Thank you".

He turned to Anthea, who started texting immediately.

^/^

John half-opened the door of the room. He saw Molly resting on the bed, holding the baby against her.

"Can I come in?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes."

The baby was making small sounds as her mother was softly caressing her head. John came closer, feeling almost intimidated by the scene. Molly looked tired and flushed but a smile illuminated her face.

"So, here she is…."

He looked down at the little bundle. It was a long time since he had done paediatrics and, although he remembered from interminable baby checks how small and red and scrumpled they could be, newborn babies always took him a little by surprise with their grimaces, opening and closing fingers and fragility. He felt a swell of protectiveness, which he told himself was instinctive, or on Sherlock's behalf, or something.

Molly pointed a finger in his direction and whispered to her daughter: "Look, Audrey, this is John."

"Hello! Oh so this is Audrey?"

"Yes, do you like it?"

"It suits her very well. Welcome, Audrey. You gave us a bit of a scare, you know?"

"She's a curious girl, she just couldn't wait to see the world".

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright. A bit… exhausted. But I'm so excited. I can't stop looking at her little face."

"Well, she is adorable - congratulations! I won't stay long, it's been a long day for you, and Mycroft's waiting outside."

"Oh, he's there?"

"Could you ever expect anything else? And your parents are on the way. Oh, and Anthea took the key of your apartment from your bag; she'll bring you a few belongings later."

"Thank you. I mean, for everything. You're really been awesome to me, John. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You're more than welcome."

"Could you… put her back in her cot?"

"Oh, um… of course". He was never very comfortable holding such a small child, but he took her in his arms as delicately as he could. He installed her in the small bed and told Audrey "Be good with your Mummy. You're very lucky to have one like her."

Then he took Molly's hand and gave it a soft kiss. "OK, you need to rest. I'll be back tomorrow".

^/^

Mycroft had already organised the transfer to a private clinic, but Molly insisted on staying at St Thomas'. A delightfully bossy and motherly nursery nurse called Helen, who knew her job inside out, was supporting and scolding her through the processes of breast feeding, changing, bathing, and she felt comfortable and looked after. She was first visited by her parents, who had travelled overnight from Devon. They were followed by Mycroft (whose attempts to bring the British Government into the postnatal ward were firmly curtailed by Helen - it seemed all that was needed to cow him was a "none of that nonsense here, thank you") and his mother. And finally John, who brought some cupcakes baked by Mrs Hudson.

Audrey slept most of the time and didn't pay much attention to her visitors. All of them agreed that she was, of course, the cutest baby they had ever seen. They also debated greatly about who she looked like. She had brown hair and her features were generally Molly's. But the eye's shape and colour were definitely Sherlock's. Mycroft, naturally, pontificated upon the fact that scientists had proven that men were far less able to perceive familial resemblances in babies than women - then demonstrated his superiority over the rest of the species by identifying fourteen other Holmes characteristics that not even Molly could identify.

A DNA test was normally necessary for the deceased father's name to appear on the birth certificate, which was complicated since his body had never been found. But Mycroft's position would certainly make things easier. However, it was decided that Audrey would take her mother's surname. Moriarty's network was not completely dismantled, and they didn't want to attract unwanted attention.

Elizabeth Holmes had brought her camera, and many pictures were taken on that day. She insisted on having one of her older son with his niece, even if the idea of Mycroft holding a baby sounded wrong in many ways. Audrey started crying immediately as they were trying to pose, which resulted in a funny picture, stifled dismay on Mycroft's part, and more overt amusement on John's.

When everyone had left, Molly contemplated her daughter one more time. It was amazing how such a small creature could make her, and so many people, happy. Of course, everybody still missed Sherlock deeply. But now there was a part of him living through Audrey. Yes, this baby was truly a miracle.

She murmured to the little girl: "Mummy loves you very much. And she wishes Daddy was here to see how beautiful you are".