Hello. I'm looking for a BETA. If you're interested, or know someone who might be interested just send me a message and I would be over the moon.
Anyway, here's a new chapter. Hope you enjoy and I really appreciate all the earlier comments and feedback I've been given. Thank you so much!
Hamish wasn't a boy who held a long grudge, John was forgiven the same night and everything was back to normal very quickly. Now there were other things to take care of and this talk about moving could wait a little longer. The furnitures was almost done and now they needed to make place for them. The cot ended up by the feet of the bed in John and Sherlock's room just like last time, the changing station was placed in the bathroom by small space of wall that could still be seen and the high chair was left in a box for now. Baker street started to become baby safe again and Hamish was furious when he couldn't figure out how to open the drawers the first the the child locks were installed. Sherlock had laughed and showed him how simple it was and now Hamish loved to open and close draws for them, silly enough.
Some weeks passed and for every day Hamish got more eager. Any day now, his fathers told him every time they did something that reminded them of the baby, like stuffing the bureau with small clothes or making the cot. But that day never seemed to come.
Sherlock entered the sitting room with two cups of steaming tea and placed one beside John's laptop while the doctor typed something on the blog that lately had turned into something more familiarly and at the moment had more followers containing other gay couples telling them what an inspiration they were, or anonymous haters who wanted to drag their faces in the dirt. Those comments were quickly erased while the good ones were praised.
"When is her due-date?" the detective asked and sat down facing him, sipping his own tea and opened his laptop.
"Yesterday." John answered dryly and returned to his post but suddenly stopped and reached for his tea. "Which reminds me..." He took a sip and hummed in delight. "You never told me that secret." The detective looked up from the screen but kept typing.
"Which one?" he asked and John chuckled lovingly.
"You mean there are more than one?" he smiled and carded a hand through his short hair down to his neck to rub his aching muscles. "I mean the one when you told me that we're expecting a new member. You never told me who." He smiled even wider and placed both his elbows on the table, clasped his hands together under his chin and sighed. "I have my guesses though."
"Tell me." Sherlock murmured with a dark voice and lowered his screen a bit to get a better look of his husband while he was 'deducing' things. John licked his lips and sniffled.
"It's Molly, isn't it? She and Greg?" Sherlock pursed his lips and nodded back and forth but like he wasn't completely sure.
"Technically we don't know if it's Greg's but it's a big possibility." he murmured and John laughed heartedly.
"Of course it is!" he chimed. "Molly is a one-man-woman. I don't think this baby could belong to anyone else than him. D'you know how far?" Sherlock frowned.
"How far what?"
"Her pregnancy." John chuckled. "D'you know how far she's gone?" Sherlock shrugged, clearly he'd only picked up clues here and there but had no idea how to determine how long Molly had actually been pregnant, or maybe he just wasn't that interested. "When d'you think they'll tell us?"
"How should I know?" Sherlock smirked and returned to his laptop again. "We'll just have to wait."
Suddenly a loud shriek echoed through the flat and John jumped in his chair, turned to the hallway with frightened big eyes when it was followed by another. Sherlock was the first one to get up but John was quick to follow, they hurried up the stairs and barged in to Hamish's room only to find the little boy curled up on the bed, tossing his head back and forth and grunting like he was in pain.
"Hamish!?" John exclaimed in horror and hurried over to the bed, fell to squat beside him and grasped his shoulder. "Hamish? Wake up. You're just dreaming." The detective looked around the room and located the skull on the desk. He brought it over to the bed and placed it on the pillow, just so it would be there when he woke up. The whimpers became louder and John shook him lightly. "Oi! Hamish!" The cold sweat was glistening on his face and his little fists clenched around the duvet so John tossed it to the side and picked him up. He sat down on the bed and held him tight while he grunted and whined, rocked him back and forth as he tried to wake him.
Tears started to break out and he arched his neck and almost choked on his screams. Sherlock took his little hand and rubbed his arm, felt the hard squeeze around his fingers, he looked up at John in panic when the crying started.
"John?" he murmured worriedly.
"C'mon Hamish." John begged. "You're scaring us both." With a loud gasp the boy's eyes opened and he screamed out in fear as tears fell freely. His eyes flickered back and forth and his hand tightened even harder.
"Hey." Sherlock murmured and kneeled before his husband. "It was just a dream. Nothing more than a nightmare." The boy stared at him like he was crazy and swallowed dryly.
"What?" he sobbed and looked up at John with tired eyes, his little body had started to tremble and John wrapped him in the duvet. "What happened?"
"A dream, Hamish." John said with a calming smile. "Nothing to worry about. You're okay."
The boy considered this for a moment, took some deep breaths while tears welled and fear twitched through his little body. He looked at Sherlock again, tried to read him just to be sure of the situation when the dream suddenly invaded again. His stomach clenched painfully and he scrunched up his face before the first sob left him and to his liking both his fathers wrapped his arms around him.
"It's all fine, handsome." Sherlock whispered. "Let's bring you down to our room, okay. You can sleep with us tonight." Hamish nodded eagerly and reached out his arms for him, sniffled and hiccuped panically as Sherlock embraced him in duvet and everything. "C'mere, handsome. Everything will be alright."
They made their way back down the stairs with their sobbing boy that refused to let go of Sherlock's neck when he suddenly made a frightened sound again.
"I don't wanna sleep yet!" he sobbed loudly and shook his head. "Please, not yet."
"Okay." Sherlock murmured and stopped in the middle of the sitting room. "D'you wanna watch some telly first?" He nodded with his head pressed against his shoulder and sniffled again.
"I'll make some tea." John said and disappeared into the kitchen while Sherlock placed himself with the clingy boy in the sofa.
"What d'you wanna watch? I think 'Finding Nemo' is left in the dvd since yesterday." Hamish just nodded and Sherlock wrapped him a little tighter in the blanket before reacher for the controller. The film started with its beautiful bright colours but the boy didn't lift his head from Sherlock's shoulder, just continued to sob silently and shiver but the sounds coming from the telly seemed to calm him a bit. "D'you wanna tell me about the dream?" Hamish shook his head quickly and moved a little closer until he was fully pressed against his father. "Okay, you don't need to. We'll just sit here, watch some Nemo and then we'll all go to bed."
Hamish didn't turn to the telly until he heard the voices of the bright coloured fishes and Sherlock got a good look of his swollen face that was stained by tears. With a warm had he wiped his cheeks and rubbed his arm comfortingly, sighed loudly as John came back with a tray with three cups balanced on its surface.
"I don't like tea." Hamish mumbled tiredly and looked at the steaming cup his father held out for him.
"It's not tea." John smiled. "It's warm milk." Milk sounded good and the little boy released his arms from the thick duvet and grabbed it.
"Thank you." he sighed and took a small, delightful sip. They drank their tea and milk in silence, the small sobs continued and tears were still spilling down his blushing cheeks while the movie went on. The detective wiped them now and then, hummed slightly to let the little boy feel the vibrations in his chest and soon Hamish's sobbing slowly fade. He cleared his throat and sniffled before looking up at his parents with glossy eyes and swollen features.
"I can't remember everything." he croaked and tapped his fingers around the mug. "But there was a blank room. No windows or colours.." He sighed loudly and John took the cup and placed it on the table before taking his little hands. "But there were shadows of people walking around. I couldn't see them, but they were there. Like ghosts." His bottom lips started to tremble and he snuggled a little closer to Sherlock who held him a little tighter, looking awfully frightened about the dream. "Mrs Hudson said the other day that dreams sometimes means something." he quaked and played with John's fingers. "D'you think it means something?"
"Of course not." Sherlock scoffed and kissed the top of his head. "It was just a bad dream, nothing more. It doesn't mean anything." Hamish looked a little relieved by those words and sighed loudly in his arms, blinked tiredly and pressed the side of his face to Sherlock's chest.
"Don't let me sleep yet." he begged again and sniffled. "Please. Keep me awake a bit longer." Sherlock promised him with a big smile and complied by tickling his tummy through the thick blanket and the boy giggled. "Stop! Not like that!"
"Then how?" Sherlock teased and poked him a little more and John chuckled from their side, grabbed onto Hamish's little feet and rubbed them lightly. Hamish thought for a second and watched them both while nibbling his lip.
"What are we gonna name her?" he asked suddenly and buried his arms in the blanket again.
"Or him." John reminded with a broad smile and tore his gaze from the telly. "It might still be a boy." Hamish just smiled and squirmed inside his cocoon, tried to get loose from John's grip around his feet. "D'you have any suggestions?" Their son nibbled his lip and took a deep breath of Sherlock's scent, brought his hand up again and started biting his nails.
"I don't want him or her to have a ordinary name." he yawned. "Something odd, like me and dad. A name to be proud of." Sherlock beamed above him and rubbed his thumb back and forth over Hamish's cheekbone. "And what's the firsts things we're gonna do together. What are we gonna say to her when we see her?" John sighed and looked at Sherlock who nearly exploded of all the excitement, oddly enough he was probably the one looking forward to this the most. Even if he didn't tell anyone John knew that his husband's fingers were itching to hold the new baby. As he said when they started to plan the whole thing, he missed it, the smell, their soft skin and their silky hair.
"How about that he or she's very welcome." John said. "That we love him or her and that we'll always do. You can tell about yourself, about preschool and Boe."
"And your work." Hamish said quickly. "She need to know what she's getting herself into when moving in with us." The detective laughed and leaned to John, let him embrace him by his shoulders.
"Yes." he smiled. "Let's tell her about that and everything she needs to know before we bring her home. She needs to know everything she can and the rest she'll learn. And when we get home we can show her all the rooms, our street and everything of importance." Hamish hummed happily and looked up at his fathers.
"Is that what you did? When you brought me home? Did you show me around?" With a big smile on his lips John's head fell to Sherlock's shoulder, all these memories made his head go all fuzzy and insides become warm.
"Your dad did most of it." he answered. "When we got you home we were all very tired. But dad showed you around a bit. He showed you everything you needed to know about and right in this sofa you had your first meal with us. You opened your eyes for the first time right over there, and then you slept between us in our bed. You were the cutest thing we'd ever seen."
"I still am." Hamish grinned and kicked his feet a little when Sherlock suddenly scoffed.
"Oh I don't know about that." he teased and the boy giggled hysterically.
"You don't look so good yourself there, hatman." he giggled and Sherlock bursted into a manic laughter that John hadn't heard for years and Hamish was almost shocked when he heard it. He stared at his father, almost to surprised to join him and he turned to John with a big smile. He'd never succeeded to amuse Sherlock like this.
"Hatman?" Sherlock giggled after he'd calmed down and shook his son a little. "Have you been through Mrs Hudson's scrapbook?" Hamish giggled and nodded. "So what did you think about that hat?"
"Ugly." Hamish answered truthfully and squirmed in his duvet again to get a little closer to his father. "Why did you even wear it?"
"Yes, Sherlock." John laughed. "Why?" The detective fidgeted and placed his legs in the coffee table.
"I think that's a story for another night." he chuckled and pressed a kiss to Hamish's forehead. "Maybe when your sister or brother's here." Hamish took that as a promise.
Then it finally happened. Two in the morning the same night as Hamish's nightmare, the phone rang and John flung out his arm in belief that it was work that needed him. But it wasn't Sarah on the other side of the line. It was Lynn's nervous sister that called with the heart in her throat and John jolted out of bed, waking both Hamish and Sherlock in the act
"Right now?" he gulped and tossed all of their clothes on the bed. "How long?" He stepped into his own pants and saw how Hamish was the first one to climb out of bed and scramble for his shirt, so eager he pulled it over his head backwards and inside out. "Okay, and... Okay. Okay, we'll be there in twenty. Take care of her, okay." He gave a breathy laugh and turned to Sherlock who stretched his arms over his head as he stepped up. "Okay, bye." He hung up and tossed the phone on the bed. "Eight centimetres, Sherlock." he hurried and pulled the shirt over his head, the right way. "Approximately an hour or two before..." he didn't have time to finnish that sentence before he was so filled of you that he choked on it. A small laugh left him and he looked at his family of three that any time soon would be four. Sherlock lowered his arms and turned to John with a wide smile.
"Let's go!" Hamish shouted and buttoned his trousers but John needed to do something first. He stepped across the floor and embraced his half naked husband, squeezed him hard and kissed his cheek. "No time for kissing!"
"Here we go, Sherlock." he whispered happily, so relieved that this was nothing like last time even if the outcome was what they'd expected. At least he didn't have to lose someone tonight.
"I know." he murmured and rubbed John's back. "About time, isn't it?"
"Daddy!?" Hamish shouted and grabbed his shirt. "C'mon!" John giggled and lightened the grip around his husband, took a good look at his face and played with some of the messy curls. The detective still smiled, sighed happily before kissing him lovingly. They had waited enough now. "Dad!" The eager boy and poked Sherlock and pulled John's clothes. "Get dressed! We need to go!"
Five minutes later they were in a cab, snow were falling and roads were slick with ice. None of them could quite believe that they were only hours away from holding their child and Hamish held onto Sherlock's hand with all he'd got. For the first time in days he had no questions, he was glowing and shaking with anticipation and John carded a hand through his hair, smiled tiredly as he tried to understand what was about to happen.
In Hamish's lap rested the present in green and yellow, all he wanted was to have it opened all ready. He knew that the little baby might now appreciate it yet, Sherlock had said so, but he still knew that in a couple of months he or she would love it with all her or his little heart. He leaned to Sherlock's side, a small smile on his lips and eyes glittering.
"Can I hold her?" he asked. "After you two of course."
"Of course you can." John giggled and rubbed his arm. "You're her big brother, she needs to be held by you too so you can cuddle properly. And when we get home we'll all crawl down in bed and get to know each other, alright?" Sherlock gave a dark chuckle from his side of the car and wrapped his arms around Hamish's shoulders, rubbed his hand through his hair and gazed upon him lovingly.
"Sleep if you want to. This might be a very long wait." The little boy laughed heartedly and shook his head.
"How can I sleep now? I'm to eager for that."
However, as they reached the hospital and placed themselves in the rough sofas in the waiting room it didn't take long before Hamish's eyelids started to droop. He blinked tiredly and held back the yawns that nearly broke his jaws. How could he sleep now? Really, he was becoming a big brother at any second and he was not going to miss that. John was pacing the floor nervously, biting his nails and continuously looking at the clock, while Sherlock on the other hand sat beside Hamish, feet on the table and phone in his hand and acting very calm.
"Sit down, John." he sighed and pulled Hamish to his side before he fell over and his his head in the table. "You pacing does no one any good."
"Does me." John replied but slowly made his way over to the tacky sofa, he was in no possession to argue and some comforting might be good. The sofa bounced under him as he fell down beside his husband and took his hand in his.
"See." Sherlock smiled. "Better." John sighed and fell to his side, snuggled close and glanced at little Hamish that was about to fall asleep in Sherlock's lap. He traced a hand through his hair and giggled happily.
"Look how big he's become. It feels like yesterday that we where here to pick him up."
"It certainly does not." Sherlock chuckled but seemed to be rather touched by this moment. "but five years seems a little to much."
"Stop talking about me." Hamish mumbled and stirred where he laid, making the springs in the sofa squeak. "I'm still awake." His fathers laughed and another hand traced through his hair.
"Sorry." Sherlock murmured and took his little hand that rested on his chest. "You'll understand when you have children of your own." A weak smile grew on Hamish lips and he squirmed where he laid until his forehead nudged Sherlock's hip. He might now be old enough to understand but one thing he knew. Things would be different on Baker Street after this. So many things would change and he stared into the grey t-shirt that his father wore. He was both scared and excited. It wasn't only him that would need them all the time now, but after today there would also be a little baby that would crave all the attention in the world. Only time would prove what this baby would lead to.
"Watson-Holmes?" John looked up from his son's dark hair and saw the short woman in her white robe staring at them with big brown eyes. "Are you ready to meet your baby?" She didn't even make it to the end of the sentence before Hamish was down on the floor, pulling as hard as he could on Sherlock's arm to get him up and he's little feet glided on the floor.
"Now, dad!" he shouted and gave a annoyed grunt, nothing went as fast as he wanted it to. Why were his fathers stalling like this. John closed his mouth and swallowed hard as he tried to let those words sink in. This was it. Their baby was here, just a couple of rooms down and ready to be brought home with them. A hand was grabbing his thigh painfully hard and he turned to Sherlock who blinked at him. They had had nine months to prepare themselves, but this was something that you couldn't be prepared for.
"Yes." John gulped and heaved himself up. There was no turning back now. He picked up the carseat from the floor and held onto Sherlock's hand hard enough to turn his fingers white. Their son was so overwhelmed he was shaking, nearly out of breath as he thought about what was waiting for him.
The nurse lead them down the long corridor and into a small room that was usually visited by parent who would hold their prematures for the first time. John could only imagine the tears of happiness that'd been shed in this room and soon they would be again, he could already feel the weight in his chest and stomach that soon would make him crumble.
"Just make yourself comfortable and I will bring the little one for you." the nurse sang and disappeared when Hamish turned to Sherlock with a furrowed brow.
"She didn't say if it was a boy or a girl." he declared and left the floor as Sherlock picked him up.
"Well, I think we'll have to discover that ourselves." he murmured and sank down on the much nicer sofa than the one in the waiting room, his husband placed himself beside him and took his hand once more.
"You look scared, daddy." Hamish whispered and crawled over to his embrace. "Are you okay?" Maybe he was, but a different kind of scared. A frightening excitement for the future perhaps. He wrapped his arms around his boy and kissed his cheek.
"Of course I'm okay." he chuckled. "It's just such a big thing to have a baby. It doesn't happen every day, does it?" Hamish shook his head and played with a button on his shirt. For a moment he looked very teeny in his arms, he always did that when he was scared and John carded a hand through his hair. "What about you, love? What are you feeling?" The boy shrugged but managed to break a smile.
"I don't know yet." he answered just as the door opened again and they lifted their heads to see the young woman push the plastic cot in front of her. All of them saw the wriggling thing lying inside it and soon the soft sounds of cooing that they hadn't heard for years began. The detective shrudded and rubbed his thighs nervously the closer the cot came.
"Here we are." the woman said happily and placed it in front of them. "There's a call button on the door, just press it when you're ready to check out and we'll help you to get this little one home." Then she left without another word and Sherlock flew up from the sofa, ready to meet the little creature than had arrived into their lives.
"C'mon, Hamish." John whispered and wrapped his arms around him to look down in the cot. There on the soft mattress and wrapped in a thin but warm blanket laid a perfect little baby with a bright pink cap and Hamish gave a very happy laugh.
"Well look at that." Sherlock murmured with a shaky voice before he reached down in the small bed. Ever so carefully he picked up the little bundle and cradled it to his chest and John moved closer to get a closer look at the little creature that Hamish couldn't do much more than just stare at.
Sherlock felt his cheeks hurt by all the smiling and tears started to well up.
"It's a little girl, Hamish." John cried happily and sniffled as he kissed his son's cheek. "A teeny girl."
She was warm in the detective's arms, not weighing more than six and a half pounds and her pink little face with chubby cheeks and button nose sent shivers down his spine. Here she was, the expected little child that Hamish once had wished for his birthday and now was so real that she'd already wrapped herself around his heart.
"She's beautiful." he quaked and looked up at John when tears suddenly spilled over. "Look at her." Hamish stared at his father in awe and fear, he'd never seen Sherlock cry before and as young as he was he'd never stumbled upon the tears of happiness before.
"Dad?" he asked nervously when Sherlock gave a mix between a laugh and a sob.
"Say hello to your little sister, handsome." he smiled and caressed the chubby cheek. John bit down on his bottom lip and hugged his son a little tighter as all the happiness just overwhelmed.
"Oh my lord." he gasped and reached out for the little hand that was grasping air and sneaked his finger into that little fist. It was responded by a strong grip and John just toppled. Tears started to fall and he looked at up at his husband before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "She's wonderful." His head rested on his shoulder and all three of them stared at the little miracle that squirmed in Sherlock's big hands.
"She's teeny." Hamish said with a deep frown since he couldn't understand why his fathers were crying when suddenly both of them bursted into happy laughter.
"Oh Hamish." Sherlock sighed lovingly. "She is, isn't she?" They sank down on the sofa again and Hamish leaned over the bundle to get a closer look of what had made both his fathers so emotional. The pink little face started to bundle up and soon a small wail escaped her and John giggled behind the tears. "Hey little one." Sherlock chuckled and brought her closer to his face. "No need to cry." She silenced quickly and snuggled close to her father's chest with a small coo.
"Look at her tiny feet." John giggled and rubbed his thumb across the sole of the small foot. "Look at her toes." Hamish looked and finally he reached out a hand to touch his sister. He took the little hand that was curled under her chin and was amazed of how soft she was. It was an incredible sight indeed, maybe it wasn't exactly what he'd expected but it was needless to say that he was impressed. This tiny thing was his sister, he was a big brother now to a tiny little girl.
"What are we naming her?" he asked while feeling the strong grip around two of his fingers. Sherlock sniffled and looked up at them both with a big smile on his lips.
"We're naming her Alice." he answered with a very shaky voice and John nodded in agreement. They had discussed many names, boys and girls names but had never really settled for one. Alice was Mrs Hudson's middle name and had never been mentioned in their discussions, but John new that Sherlock had been thinking about that name since the moment Hamish wished for a sister. It was perfect, frightfully perfect. Looking upon that little face under the pink hat and wrapped in the warm blanket they couldn't see anything else but an Alice.
"Alice." Hamish repeated to really taste how the name fitted in his mouth. "I like it."
"Me too." John sobbed happily and leaned over to kiss his husband who was beside himself in pride. "It's fits her perfectly." He sniffled and wiped his tears. "Can I?"
"Of course." Sherlock chimed and turned fully to him. Hamish jumped down on the floor and watched how they carefully transferred the little girl from one embrace to another and he saw how John's face brightened as he held his daughter for the first time.
"Hello Alice." he beamed and kissed her little nose. Once Hamish had the chance he jumped up in Sherlock's arms and crawled as close as he could get and they both observed the baby that fidgeted in John's arms. "Aren't you a looker?" Sherlock laughed and buried his nose in Hamish's hair to take a deep breath of him.
"She's really pretty." the boy whispered and caressed the puffy cheek with one of his fingers. "And really soft."
"I know." John smiled and carefully peeled of the pink cap to get a look of her hair. It was dark, almost black and on the beginning of curls. There was no way of telling if it was from Sherlock or Lynn, this child could belong to either of the men in the room, but she would always belong to them both either way.
"Look at that." Sherlock beamed and reached out to touch the velvety hair. "We've got a girl with curls." John gave a sobbing laugh and played with the small curls.
"Jesus." he sighed. "She's here. She's actually here. I can't take my eyes of her."
"Our little baby girl." Sherlock smiled and hugged Hamish even tighter. "Look at her, handsome."
"I am looking." Hamish giggled and touched the hair as well, just as equally impressed as his parents of how soft it was. "I can't believe we're bringing her home with us."
"The calm days are suddenly over." John laughed and looked up at his son. "D'you wanna hold her, Hamish?" He looked up at John with big eyes and nodded eagerly. Of course he wanted to hold her. Why did they even ask? "Okay. Dad will help you so you don't drop her alright." Ever so carefully John placed her in his small arms with Sherlock's hands as support on his elbows. "Watch her little head, okay." Hamish cradled her close to his chest and stared at her in amazement. She was truly incredible. Nothing like how he'd imagined babies. He thought they would laugh, be bigger and look more... human. Instead she was this, pink, wrinkly, soft little weak thing that couldn't even lift it's head. But she was cute, beautiful in fact, almost breathtaking. He pressed a kiss to her inexistent brow and smelled the dark hair on her head. She even smelled good.
The out of nowhere there was a bright flash and he looked up at John who held up his phone and had just taken a picture. Hamish giggled happily and turned to Alice again.
"I love her." he murmured and kissed her forehead again. "I really do."
"I think we all do." John said and reached for the chart that was hanging over the cot to take a look. With a broad smile he looked down at his clock and then up at the paper again.
"She's twenty minutes old right now." he smiled. "And she's a Sagittarius."
"What am I?" Hamish asked and took his eyes of his sister.
"You're a libra." Sherlock answered. "But it doesn't really matter. It means nothing really."
"Daddy says my horoscope always match." Hamish said and looked down again. "Can we bring her home now? I wanna give her the present."
"Yes." John smiled. "We're going home. We're just checking in on Lynn, see how she's doing, and then we're taking her home."
So, we have an Alice Watson-Holmes. Hope you like the name. Leave a review please! Thank you!