Chapter 41: New Addition

Emma huffed, one hand on her now distended belly, as she dragged herself up the five flights of stairs. She was not expecting Sherlock to be home, so was delightfully surprised when she saw him in the living room.

"What are you doing?" She asked, watching him tinker with something on the floor.

"Oh, back from school?" He looked up from his work to smile brightly at her. "You've been saying we need to baby-proof the place and I agree – so that's what I'm doing."

"Sherlock the baby isn't going to be here for another six months." Emma said with a laugh.

"Exactly. It is best to be prepared."

Emma smiled and tossed her book bag onto the couch. "Well I see you're putting your money to good use."

Sherlock laughed shortly. "I've never needed much, but it was kind of Mycroft to sign me over my part of the trust fund, no exclusions."

"It's because he trusts you, you know."

Sherlock smirked. "Personally I think he was tiring of writing me monthly checks and keeping track of my monies."

"I know what you think." She said, kissing his cheek.

Emma put a comforting hand on his shoulder before walking back to the couch and sinking into its comfort. She pulled her laptop and books out of her bag and tried to concentrate on her homework.

"Have your classmates calmed down yet?" Sherlock asked, trying to fit a corner on their coffee table.

Emma sighed. As soon as she had gone back to class the middle of last month, classmates, and teachers had stared at her as if she were some strange creature. She knew it was because she was pregnant, and it had begun to show. Most of her the mates at school who had previously talked to her now shrunk from her presence, her teachers sighed when her name came in attendance. They had all written her off. Then, no one at school knew about Sherlock. None of the people who wrote her off knew of the support system she had at home.

In fact, she had heard a few girls whispering about how she must have gotten drunk at a party and had sex with a drug dealer who was now of course out of the picture. All of them assumed Emmaline was a single mother, struggling to get through college. They did not know she had an amazing husband who would be able to help her through it.

"Well no one spit on me today so that's an improvement." Emma said, kicking off her boots.

Sherlock picked her boots up, giving her a scolding look, and put them away in the hall closet. He deposited himself on the floor in front of her and removed her socks, proceeding to rub one foot at a time.

"Oh, thank you." She sighed in delight.

Sherlock smiled. Lestrade had been right about the foot rub. "You are young." He conceded. "But you'll get college done, and you'll have a healthy baby." Sherlock offered.

Emma smiled, blushing. "We will have a healthy baby." She agreed. "And he'll be beautiful."

"Or she." Sherlock reminded.

Emma rolled her eyes and turned back to work, Sherlock continuing his work on her feet.

ᶓ

"So what do you think?" Emma asked Sherlock.

They were cuddling on the couch after a long day of school and work; Sherlock had finally closed a case he had been working for weeks and Emma had turned in a big project that had taken up much of her time. She had her feet in his lap and he was rubbing them as he thought about it.

She wanted to keep the gender of the baby a secret and not find out until it was born; he was not sure if he wanted to know or not. It did not really make that big a difference to him. He glanced over at Emmaline's large belly – at six months they could very easily find out the sex.

"No, I want it to be a surprise as well." He finally decided.

"OK." She said with a grin. "Surprise it is. Though, we should decide on names to be safe, right?"

"Alright, if you want. But later."

"Alright we can focus on that later."

Sherlock pushed her feet gently out of his lap and went into the kitchen to get her a snack. Emma turned on the TV and switched the channel to a movie they had wanted to watch. Sherlock came back a few minutes later with a tub of mint-chocolate chip ice cream with butterfingers and Kit-Kat's mashed throughout and whipped cream with chocolate and caramel sauce.

"Oh." Sherlock looked down at the dessert. "Just a moment." He had forgotten the fruit loops.

Emma smiled as Sherlock came back out, the sugary cereal now added to her treat.

"Do you want some?" She asked, handing him a bite.

Sherlock frowned and shook his head. "Keep that vile concoction away from me."

ᶓ

"Well what about Sherlock?" She asked sitting and eating her fish and chips.

"No." He said. "I will not curse a child with that name."

"Alright, well that's out of the game then." Emma crossed the name off her list. "Is there any name that we can agree on for a boy?" She asked hopelessly.

"Well, the girl's name came easily enough." Sherlock sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Let me see your list." Emma requested, reaching her hand for it.

Sherlock handed it to her. They had agreed that since the baby was due in a month it was high time they picked out a name for each sex. They had each made lists and then read from them in turn, trying to make a name, they agreed upon. The girl's name had been sorted in just under an hour. If they were to have a girl, her name would be Emerson Claire Holmes.

"What's this?" Emma asked, pointing at a faint scribble in the corner of Sherlock's paper.

Sherlock squinted his eyes. He had mostly written case notes in the margins while they had been debating. "That one is…a name. I read a paper recently about a medical student who shows promise in his field…" Sherlock muttered to himself.

"Jonathon." Emma tasted the name on her tongue. "I like it." She said after a moment of thought.

"I like it too." Sherlock approved.

"And what's this…?" Emma pointed to another name in the margin.

"History lesson I had just remembered." Sherlock murmured.

"What does the name mean?" She asked.

"Caradoc? It is Welsh and means 'love' or 'dearly loved'." Sherlock informed her.

"Jonathon Caradoc Holmes." Emma said to herself, tracing the names Sherlock had written. "I like that."

"So do I." Sherlock agreed. And he did – it was a good name and he was proud at having come up with it.

"I'll guess we'll just have to wait and see what it is." Emma said wistfully.

Sherlock leaned over the table and gently kissed her. "It's only a month darling; we can wait."

Emma sighed. "I know, but I want to know now." She said, brushing aside their papers and making room for her textbooks.

"Were you going to meet Greg tonight to discuss that case?" Emmaline asked.

"Yes, I'm leaving now."

"Alright." Emma kissed Sherlock goodbye.

She smiled, rubbing her belly. "I think you'll be a Jonathon. Yes I do." She whispered happily.

ᶓ

Emma relaxed after a long day. She had just gotten home from Valentine's dinner with Sherlock and in true Holmesian fashion, had left when Lestrade had called about some lover's suicide pact. Emmaline did not mind however; her due date was still a few weeks away. With that knowledge making her comfortable, she settled down on the couch for a nap.

A short hour later, Emmaline woke up when she felt wet.

"Oh crap." She mumbled sleepily, sitting herself up carefully and standing. It was all over the couch, and her. A few fleeting thoughts ran through her mind, but first was that she had peed herself.

Another, sounder voice reminded her of her due date. Emma cradled her stomach and very carefully lifted up a couch cushion to her nose. She had become no stranger to this in the past month, smelling to determine what the substance was. This, this was something almost sweet that she had not smelled before.

Grabbing her phone from her pocket, she pressed the speed dial button for Sherlock's number.

"Hello?" An exasperated Lestrade answered.

"Why are you answering my husband's phone?" Emma answered, without patience.

"Sherlock told me to – said he's busy thinking."

"Give him the phone now Greg." Emma said in as threatening a voice as she could manage.

There was some fumbling on the other line and some hushed murmurings of 'she sounds pissed mate' before her husband was finally on the line.

"Yes Emmaline?" He asked. She noted that his voice had just the right amount of tremor in it, based only off Lestrade's warning.

"Sherlock you need to come get me right now; the baby's coming."

"Are you sure?" He asked in a calmer tone.

"Yes I'm sure!" Emma practically yelled through the phone.

"What's going on?" She heard Lestrade ask. He must have been close to the phone, trying to hear what was going on.

"Emmaline says the baby is coming."

"What the hell are you still doing here? Get going mate!" She could hear Lestrade yell, and heard Sherlock shout "Don't push!"

Emmaline would have laughed if the situation were not so serious.

"Thanks Greg!" She shouted over the phone.

"It's a pleasure." He yelled back.

Emma hung up the phone; throwing it into the bag she had by the couch. She blew breath in and out through her cheeks like those that she had been taught in the class she had taken with Sherlock, and walked into the bedroom to retrieve her bag.

Sherlock had insisted she pack a hospital bag just the night before and she was glad now that she had. By the time her bag and purse were ready, her pants changed, sweater, coat and boots on, Sherlock had arrived home out of breath.

His cheeks were red from the cold and running; his eyes sparkled as he saw her standing there, waiting for him.

"Car keys?" He asked, breathless. She tossed them to him and he caught them deftly, striding across the room to grab her bags.

He hurried from the flat without another word, leaving Emma to begin climbing down the stairs on her own. They were both frantic, not sure what to do. After putting the bags in the car Sherlock realized that he had left her to get down the stairs on her own, and slapped his hand to his forehead.

"Stupid." He muttered to himself, running back into the building. He met her on the third floor where he smiled apologetically and took her arm.

Slowly they made their way downstairs and to the car. Sherlock helped her around and into the passenger side before running around the car to get in and drive.

"You do know how to drive a car right?" Emma asked, turning to look at her husband.

"Of course; Mycroft taught me." Sherlock replied as he pulled into traffic and made for the hospital.

"How long did you say women are usually in labor?" Emma asked; Sherlock had done more reading than she had in preparation for the baby.

He eyed her nervously. "Not long at all." He said with a shrug.

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"Not long at all?" Emma screamed, her sweaty hand grabbing Sherlock's in a vice like grip.

"It's an honest mistake."

"I'll kill you." She shouted venomously as the doctor urged her once more to push.

"23 hours is not that long Emmaline."

"SHERLOCK!" She screamed, pushing through her exhaustion, and gripping his hand so hard Sherlock thought it would have to be amputated due to blood constriction, the doctor announced that the baby was out.

Emma collapsed, exhausted, against her pillow. The doctor held the baby up for them both to see.

"It's a boy," she confirmed.

"Jonathon." Emmaline breathed with a smile.

The doctor and nurses wrapped the baby up in a blanket and put a hat on its head before handing it over to Emmaline.

"He's so precious." She whispered, cradling the baby in her arms. "Can you believe he's ours Sherlock?"

Tears were shining in his eyes. "He looks like you." He said softly, his throat filling with unshed tears.

"Are you…are you crying?" Emma asked innocently, looking up at her husband. "Oh babe." She smiled, her own eyes filling with tears, as she leaned up to kiss him. "Do you want to hold him?"

Sherlock nodded, holding his arms out. Awkwardly, he took his son in his arms before settling him. He looked down at the lump of flesh that was his son, noting what features were hers and which were his. His thumb stroked Jonathon's cheek, and he smiled happily when the baby bristled, turning his head.

"He has your nose." Sherlock informed her, looking down at his wife, so beautiful after what she had just done, just given him.

"And your mouth." She told him.

Sherlock leaned down and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Thank you." He said, kissing her forehead.

"I've never seen you so emotional."

Sherlock laughed. "I've never felt like this before."

He sat on the edge of her bed, holding Jonathon so she could look upon him as well.

"Is it strange that he just fell asleep?" Emma asked one of the nurses.

"They usually scream and cry, but we've had some who just seem bored with the world." The nurse said with a smile.

"Bored." Sherlock said with a grin. "Of course you are."

ᶓ

Sherlock opened the door to the flat and set the bags down at the door; he put Jonathon in his car seat down on the floor next to the couch. Emma came in the flat a few moments later, holding her stomach.

"The doctor was right; those stairs are hard."

"I'll get you some water." Sherlock said quickly, dashing off to the kitchen.

Emma walked over to the couch and took Jonathon out of his car seat. "Do you think it is safe to keep the breast-milk where you still have your experiments?" Emma shouted.

"It's fine." Sherlock said with a shrug, bringing her the glass.

As soon as he was handed to Sherlock, Jonathon began to cry with a wailing that pierced their ears.

"Feeding time?" Sherlock asked, looking to her as though he were lost and misplaced the map.

"It's going to be a long eighteen years." Emmaline said with a sigh.