I want to thank you all for the response :) I find it difficult to keep the characters in their natural behaviour so you guys can help me there if they get too OCC.
John took a whiff of himself and cringed. Maybe a quick stop home would be in order.
He instructed the taxi driver to make a detour and that he will pay him for his efforts and settled back into his seat, sighing.
When he got home, he immediately went to the bathroom, stripping along the way before finally running the shower from cold to hot. As the water ran, he brushed his teeth, running his wrinkled hands through his greying hair.
Look at me now, Mary..., he thought, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth out with mouthwash.
He got into the shower, wincing as the boiling water cascaded down his body, turning the heat down to lukewarm instead.
I'll be there soon, Rosie. Daddy loves you.
When he was finished, he dressed in a new pair of jeans and a casual dress shirt. Spraying the cologne which Mary had said that she loved on him, John finally noticed the bags under his eyes as he stared at himself through the mirror.
He managed to drag his eyes from his appearance and checked the time. Thirty minutes he had spent cleaning himself up.
It was late, around nine-ish and John rubbed at his face, trying to stop himself from looking so aged.
Just a few minutes more, my baby girl. Daddy's coming.
As John turned to leave the bedroom, he stepped on something which squeaked.
Bending down, he collected Rosie's favourite stuffed lamb, Bambi. Smiling, he unhooked his jacket and put the toy into his pocket before slipping the jacket on.
Making his way to the front door, he heard three knocks.
"John?"
John sighed, opening the door. "Greg."
Lestrade gave a tight smile, before stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I'm sure you've heard, then? Rosie's ill and uh, Molly is at the hospital with Sherlock."
John gave a ghost of a smile. "You're here to give me a lift, huh?"
The detective inspector chuckled. "I've been watching your door for days now. When I can't, I have a plain clothes watch it. I'm glad that I was the one to notice your reappearance."
"Thanks, Greg. I really appreciate that."
...
The doctor who had been tending to Rosie finally entered the room with some news.
"You may see Rosie now. She is still physically weak but she will be responsive to anything you say or do." He said.
Molly stood up faster than Sherlock and for once, the male was shocked at his slowness.
This is a good thing, this means Rosie is becoming better.
Molly followed behind the doctor and gave a huge sigh of relief when she saw Rosie staring back up at her with a hint of a smile.
Sherlock remained in the back, not wanting to intrude on their moment. She wouldn't even remember me.
Rosie gurgled, her blue eyes straying to Sherlock's presence. Weakly, she reached a longing hand out at him, making Molly turn to face him.
"Sh-She wants you," she whispered.
Sherlock's heart fluttered as he slowly made his way over to the plastic crib. Rosie was becoming more fussier by the minute and Sherlock placed his finger in her hand, making her latch on immediately and calm.
"I shouldn't have listened to John... I knew she missed you," Molly said, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Sherlock chuckled. "You were being a little antichrist, hmm? A little devil as your mother once said?" He asked the child. "Yes..., I see. There's the faint 666 on your little forehead."
He heard Molly laugh as Rosie gave her own signs of approval.
"I missed you too, child. I wanted to see you so much."
Rosie's eyebrows furrowed as she started tugging on her nose tube.
"No, no. Don't do that, little Rosie. You need that, you see. You're very ill."
Rosie started to hiccup before starting a full on hissy fit and crying.
Molly wanted to provide her duties as she looked up at the doctor who gave her a nod of approval. Smiling, she took the baby into her arms and chuckled as Rosie tried to grab at Sherlock's brown locks as he stood behind Molly.
"You're okay, baby. Aunt Molly's here." She turned to face Sherlock and added with a whisper, "And Uncle Sherlie's here, too."
...
John watched as Molly and Sherlock tended to his daughter. He took the toy from his pocket and sighed, squeezing it in his hands.
If anyone had been looking, they would have thought the blonde child belonged to the two brunettes in the room but others knew otherwise.
Opening the door, John let himself in and cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the other three adults in the room.
"John." Sherlock's voice held relief. Regret.
"Sherlock, Molly."
The doctor turned to him. "Are you related?"
"I'm Rosie's dad." John replied. "What is wrong with her?"
Molly allowed the child to be taken from her and into her father's arm, smiling as Rosie quickly settled into her father's chest, lovingly.
"She has menighitis. It's mild, she should make a speedy recovery." The doctor replied. "Her godparents have taken such good care of her in your absence."
John smiled gratefully at Molly. "I know they have."
"If you would like to follow me for more information on your daughter's condition?"
John sighed, placing a kiss on his daughter's head before handing her onto Sherlock who rejected the contact but complied nonetheless.
"I'm sorry," John told him.
Sherlock looked down at the blonde child's blue eyes before looking up at his best friend. "I apologise."
Molly smiled and noticed the toy still gripped by John's hand. "Oh, she wouldn't sleep without that!"
"I'm glad to have found it."
Sherlock looked down at the child who gripped his hair. She was her father's child.