Warning: Minor characters death
The phone rang loudly in the middle of the night and John threw his hand out in the dark to find it.
"Hello?" he groaned and he heard the loud sob in the other side. "Clara?" He sat up in and slammed the other side of the bed so Sherlock would awake. "Clara, what happened? Talk to me? Is Harry okay?"
"You're a daddy." she sobbed and he heard her laugh beneath the tears. John stopped in the middle of dressing and felt his heart skip a beat.
"What?" Clara sniffled and started to sob again.
"She went into labour and she was rushed to the hospital for an emergency c-section. Harry... Harry didn't make it." John felt his hand travel up to his lips and ha fell to the floor. Sherlock woke up from the thump and squinted as he looked at him.
"What's going on?" he asked but slowly started to understand. He didn't need to be intelligent to realise that something had gone terribly wrong, and he felt an awful lump form in his chest.
"But..." John stammered and felt the tears. "What happened? Did she...?" Clara sniffled and soon John heard the cries of a small child and he didn't know if he should cry or laugh. That's was the proof of his child's existents and he started to panic by the many feelings overwhelming him.
"It's a boy." Clara sobbed and John grasped his heart, tears welling from his eyes. A son, he had a son, his little boy was finally here. They were going to bring home a little Hamish to Baker street. "He's beautiful." John drew a loud breath and let out a painful sob, lowered his head and tried to hide his tears with his hand. Then he felt the long arms wound around him and he fell into his husbands embrace, feeling the reality come back to him just as his world had started to crumble by the memory of his sisters. Their childhood together, all those summers spend by the ocean in the family cottage, all the secrets they'd kept together from their parents, jesus, she was gone.
"You need to come here. He want's to see you." John sobbed loudly into Sherlocks shoulder and trembled awfully. Of course he needed to go there, he wanted to see him too.
"Okay." he stuttered. "We'll be there in ten minutes. Are you alone there?"
"No." she sobbed. "My sister is here." John swallowed hard and nodded even if she couldn't see him.
"Good." he sniffled and swallowed hard. The next second he fell apart in Sherlock's arms, sobbing violently and the phone hit the floor. He pinned himself to his t-shirt, not caring if his nails pierced his skin, he just needed to hold on to him before he lost his mind.
"We've got a son." he sobbed after a couple of seconds of silence and he could feel Sherlock tense.
"What?"
"We've got a son. Harry... she..." he sobbed loudly again and Sherlock stoke his back in comfort. "She didn't make it."
"Oh... jesus..." Sherlock sighed, he couldn't believe it. After seeing John's tears and anguish he already knew that Harry was gone, but he thought that the child was gone with her. He never got the impression of that their baby had arrived. The lump in his chest grew heavier and fell down to his stomach. Even if there were facts he didn't feel like a father, he couldn't even imagine himself in that position after all these months, and now, their son was here. What would happen now, what would happen when he laid eyes upon his boy, what if he didn't love him? He felt like he was going to throw up. They were silent for a long time before John started to calm down in his arms.
"We need to go there." he sighed and Sherlock nodded, even if he didn't really want to. "We need to see him."
"Of course." Sherlock said and tried to smile, but he couldn't, he just couldn't feel any sort of happiness, he was sad, sad that John had lost his sister, sad that he didn't feel any sort of anticipation to met little Hamish
"We've got a little boy." John said happily and he just nodded. "A little son."
"Yes." he said and pondered about what a normal person would do in this scenario, he dried his husbands tears and kissed the top of his head.
"A little Hamish." John continued and Sherlock just held him as he cried. "Let's go see him."
Clara met them at the door and ran into John's embrace, he held her for a long time before they could find words. Sherlock stood beside them, observed and tried to understand all the feeling they were carrying, sorrow, happiness, love, loss. He wished he could understand them, the only feeling he was carrying right now was fear, fear for how John was going to handle all this, fear for how he was going to handle all this.
"I'm glad you were there with her." John said and kissed her cheek. "It would have been awful if she'd been alone." Clara sniffled and looked at him with a great smile.
"She was awake during the procedure." she said and wiped her nose with a hanky. "She saw him, she touched him before she passed." John lost his breathing and his hand touched his lips again while tears fell.
"She did?" he asked and swallowed a sob. Clara nodded with a smile and she stroke his cheek.
"She did." she answered and nodded. "Come, he wants to meet you." She turned and John gave Sherlock a lingering look, making sure he was okay. The detective placed an arm around him and pulled him into his chest, kissed his forehead and said those words that always seemed right in a painful situation.
"It's alright." he whispered even if he didn't know what i meant right now. Clara took his hand in a steady grip and she lead them the way with heavy steppes through the corridor. For every metre they travelled the lump in Sherlock's stomach grew heavier until it was almost painful.
There was a door, and behind it was their newborn son. John's mind was blank, he tried to imagine what they would see and feel as they walked through it.
Sherlock held his breath, trying not to think about the pain in his stomach, his world would either fall or become so much better when he walked through that door.
Clara pushed it open and he saw her sister sitting by the plastic cot, stroking the little bundle that moved under the blankets. John's world stopped and fought the tears, there he was, the last gift his sister had given him. For the moment, sorrow and pain had left him and all his head was filled with was the this, this wonderful meeting.
"Come." Clara begged them and John nailed himself to Sherlock's coat as they stepped forward.
Still nothing, not a single feeling except fear, here he was a few steppes away from his newborn son and still not feeling a thing for him, he had never hated himself so much. But as soon as they closed in to the bed and he laid his eyes upon the small child sleeping under the blankets, everything changed. There he was, his son, his little pink beautiful boy and his body was filled with something warm, a feeling so new that he couldn't place it. What the hell was going on inside him?
A mix between a sob, a laugh and a sigh slipped over John's lips as he saw him. It was love at first sight, he was so much alike him and Sherlock, of course he had gotten the looks from Harry but he and his sister was so alike that he could easily be his biological.
"Jesus christ." Sherlock sighed happily and grasped John's hand, he tightened his grip around him and bit his bottom lip as he smiled, he actually smiled, he had never felt so happy and proud about something. Pride! That wonderful warm feeling inside him was pride, my goodness, this was the best he had ever felt. "Look at that."
"You can pick him up." Lola said and John dried his tears and then wiped his hands on his pants before he carefully lifted the small child and held him close to his heart. The child whimpered silently in his arms and John stared at him in wonder.
"Hello little Hamish." he whispered and pulled at his little hat so he could see the colour of his hair. It was dark and straight. The detective pressed his hands to his lips and breathed calmly as he watched his husband bond with the child. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Sherlock, look at him." He took a step closer and placed a trembling hand upon the little head, he was shaking, he could see himself in that little child, him and John.
"He's so little." he whispered. "God... he's got my hair colour." John let out a little laugh and nodded.
"Yes he does." he said and sniffled. "Look at his little hands." Sherlock grinned happily and stroke a finger over the small little limb, they were really small, but then he saw something cuter.
"Forget about his hands, look at his little nose." John giggled and looked up at Sherlock with teared eyes, he had never been this happy, his wish had finally come true, he was a father, and if that wasn't enough, he got to share this wonderful moment with Sherlock, they were parents to a wonderful little boy.
"I can't believe he's ours." he breathed and captured a beautiful kiss from his husband.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked him and wiped his tears with his thumb.
"Yeah." he lied and sniffled before he turned to Clara who sat on the bedside. "Is everything okay with him? Is he healthy I mean?"
"Yes." she said and sniffled. "You can bring him home whenever you like." John let out a deep breath and looked down at the small boy again. "It's a beautiful name. Hamish. I thought you hated your second name." John grinned and admired the child puffy cheeks and pink skin.
"I did, but it's just perfect for him." He looked at Sherlock again who secretly wiped away a couple of tears he was trying to hide but John saw them, his heart skipped a beat by the sight and he fell in love all over again. "You want to hold him?"
There was no doubt about it, he couldn't wait to hold that little boy close to his heart, feel him breath and move, feel the connection between them.
"Of course." he said and blinked a couple if times before he tossed his coat over the chair behind him. He reached out his hands and received the small bundle. Hamish could almost fit in Sherlock's left hand only. He held him to his chest and observed him in silence, not a word was spoken between them. Sherlock just stared lovingly, touched the velvety dark hair, played with the small fingers, stroke his little cheek. These last couple of months had been awful for him, but he never told John that. This day had been in his nightmares, the thoughts of him having a son, how would he ever be able to love a screaming baby that he had to take care of 24/7? But now, holding this little bundle the only thing he could see was his son, his and John's beautiful son. And on top of that there was something else, something so incredibly big that it made him straighten his body, he felt taller and mightier than ever, he was a father.
It was wonderful to see his husband like this; Sherlock had never told him but John knew that this had been a fear for him. To be honest, John had feared this too, not Hamish, but Sherlock's way to react and treat this, but seeing him now he started to understand that his husband, the sociopath maybe wasn't a sociopath after all, he was just as human as he.
"You can talk to him." John said and stood close to him. That thought had never occurred to the detective.
"But... he can't understand me." he said and felt more stupid them ever.
"No, but he will find comfort in your voice, so he needs to know it." Sherlock looked down on the boy again, his son, and opened his mouth to speak but found his mind blank. How much he even searched in that big brain of his he had no idea what to tell his son.
"What do I say?"
"You can say anything to him." John said. "He can't understand you." Sherlock smirked and placed his big hand on Hamish's chest to feel him breath, his little chest heaving up and down and he started to understand how precious and fragile this little life was.
"You're a very handsome boy, Hamish." he whispered. "I hope you can cope with me, I really do." And he really meant it, he had never cared about what people thought about him or if his personality drove people away. For the second time in his life he was ready to change parts of himself to be loved, the first time he'd done it was for John, he would do anything for that man.
"Of course he will." John said. "He'll have to grow up will you, he will get used to it quicker than you think."
"What if he turns out to be like me?" Sherlock asked nervously and John grasped his arm.
"Then he will become the most brilliant and smartest man we've ever known except for you."
Those words brought tears to his eyes, sometimes John was more intelligent than anyone, even him. "Thank you." he said and leaned into kiss him. "I love you so much." John held them both in his embrace and observed his husband.
"I love you too." he sighed and looked down at Hamish. "Look at him. He look's so much like you."
"Yes." he giggled. "But he's got your nose. Your short little chubby fingers."
"Don't call my fingers chubby." John grinned and held the little hand. The memories of his sister crawled back to him and he let out a big breath as the tears started to flow again. He turned to Clara and she hurried over the floor to hold him.
"You should be happy." she said and stroke his back. "Harry wouldn't want to see you sad at this moment."
"I know." he sighed and held her. "I am happy but..."
"He looks very much like you two, you and your sister were very alike. He's like the perfect combination between you two." She looked at Sherlock who pulled in the blanked to fold it tighter around the boy. "Take him home. Get some alone time with him, get to know him. I'll call you in the morning." John groaned and kissed her cheek.
"Will you be alright?" he asked and she nodded quickly.
"Yes, I will sleep at my sister's." She gave the small boy a last look. "You will be such good parents for him, I can tell." John let out a painful grin and nodded.
"Thank you."
Please, leave a review. They make me happy. I hope you liked this chapter, it hurt my heart a little to write this but I think it turned out fine, tell me what you think!