A/N: For the April 8th prompt - "Write about your father's hands." Rated T. Immediately follows Nothing Has Changed.
Sherlock dozed off after Molly left the room, waking when she came back with food. He ate the tea and toast then fell asleep again. His dreams were too fleeting to remember the details, but the feelings stayed. Fear. Anxiety. Peace. Arousal. Love.
Sherlock woke up again hours later, completely disoriented. The room was dark but he couldn't tell if it was late at night or early in the morning – the alarm clock display was covered with a post-it. Still stealing time. He was wondering what woke him when he heard Molly crying in the bathroom.
"Molly!" Sherlock was out of bed and at the bathroom door in record time.
The door was ajar. He pushed it open and found Molly sitting on the floor, sobbing. Sherlock sat down beside her.
"Are you hurt, sweetheart?" he asked gently.
Molly shook her head, tears still rolling down her face.
Sherlock gently pulled her into his lap and held her close. "Talk to me, Molly," he murmured, kissing her hair. "Let me make it better."
"You can't…" she whispered then she buried her face in his shoulder.
He gently stroked her hair. "I can try," he murmured. "At least let me try."
It was several minutes before she was willing to talk. "I got up to pee. Normally, I don't even look in the mirror when I go during the night, but this time I did. That's when I noticed I'm starting to show." She swallowed hard. "Did Ford tell you how long we tried to conceive?"
"Over two years," he said, "starting on your first anniversary."
She nodded then smiled weakly. "I didn't get pregnant until after we stopped trying. I don't know who was more surprised by the pregnancy test coming up positive, me or Ford, but we were both so excited. Ford went out and bought every pregnancy book he could find. He … he couldn't wait for me to start showing." She swallowed hard. "Now I am and he's not here to see it."
"Oh, sweetheart…" Sherlock softly kissed her forehead. "He would have been here, you know that. You have me now. I know it's not the same, but I swear I'll always be there for every step."
She lifted her head to look up at him. "You're right, it's not the same, but it's just as good."
His heart soared.
"I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here, Sherlock. I can't do this without you."
"You'll never have to."
When Sherlock woke up the next time, it was either late morning or early afternoon, going by the light outside. Molly's side of the bed was empty.
No surprise, she's at work. He knew he could call her if his symptoms were too bad to handle. Sherlock took a shower and dressed then went downstairs and nearly collided with Molly in the kitchen.
"Oh, you're awake," she said, smiling. "How do you feel?"
"Ravenous and confused," he admitted. "Shouldn't you be at work?"
"After I called Nat, I called my boss. Both of us have the week off to grieve." She reached out to take his hand. "The funeral's tomorrow at noon."
Sherlock nodded, squeezing her hand. "And the gathering after?"
"It's at your parents' place. Honestly, I hate going to those. Everyone ends up talking about everything except the deceased, it seems insensitive."
"Knowing my mother, she'll insist on talking about everything but me."
"We don't have to go to either."
He sighed quietly. "I'll think about it."
"Alright. What would you like?"
"Whatever you're having is fine." He sat down at the peninsula, watching her.
She smiled at him. "Egg salad sandwiches it is."
Sherlock chuckled. "What time is it?"
"Just past noon. I was going to wake you in an hour if you weren't up by then." She put four eggs on to boil then turned to him. "I want to thank you for last night."
"You don't need to thank me, sweetheart. You were hurting and I held you. It's what any husband would do."
"You didn't have to." She came over to him and took his hand. "You don't have to do any of this."
"I do it because I love you." He looked down at her stomach. Her top was loose enough that he couldn't see the bump. He looked up at her. "May I?"
She smiled softly. "Allow me." She lifted the hem of her top high enough that he could see her small baby bump.
It was barely noticeable but still, Sherlock was enchanted. He lightly laid a hand over it, the span of his hand covering the entire bump. "Hello," he said softly.
Molly said softly, "Hear that voice, baby? That's Daddy."
Sherlock stared at her. "I … I guess I do sound just like Ford."
"Oh, Sherlock," she murmured, smiling softly. "Ford's the father, but you'll be the one to raise the baby with me. You'll be the only one the baby knows. You'll be Daddy."
Too choked up to say anything, Sherlock stood then hugged Molly tightly. She hugged him back and laid her head on his chest.
"I'll be the best daddy I can," he murmured once he found his voice again.
"I know you will."