A Genius, A Doctor and...a Baby? Part 6

Sherlock looked up in surprise at the sound of John as he came in, just after Mrs. Hudson left (complaining about holes in the wall, the messy clothes on the floor, and about how John was snippy with her).

Sherlock stood from his bed, before walking into the living room, stopping as he watched John slip off his coat, than listening to him making dinner in the kitchen, the air smelling like pasta, meat and tomatoes.

“…John?”

“I’m making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, alright? I forgot to ask what you wanted, but I figured this was fine.”

“…It is…”

“Well, could you sit Vi down and set the table, please?”

The detective did, setting the little girl down on her blankets, before going into the kitchen, grabbing plates and glasses from the cabinets, setting them on the table, the sound of creaking floors, ceramic against wood, and the pasta bubbling the only sounds the otherwise quiet kitchen.

“…I’m sorry.”

“W-What?” Sherlock looked back at him, not expecting an apology of any kind, despite his behavior just moments before.

“I said…I’m sorry.” John said awkwardly, as he drained the noodles and set them in a bowl. “I’m…I’m still getting used to this whole…us being parents thing…And…I just-”

“It’s okay.”

John felt a tremor go through his body as Sherlock came up behind him, warm breath hitting his ear, followed by a low whisper.

“…I forgive you…”

An arm made its way around John and he froze up, shivers attacking his body.

“Wha-?”

Sherlock smirked, taking the bowl of spaghetti from the doctor’s hand, their hands brushing.

“Bring the drinks, won’t you, John?”

Feeling like he’d just been made fun of in a very…odd way, John Watson thought best to push aside the fact the urge to punch his friend was even stronger now-

“John! Come quick!”

Startled, he rushed to Sherlock’s side, almost reaching for the gun that resided in the back of his jeans.

“What is it?!”

Sherlock’s mirror blue eyes were shining with a pride John had never seen before, hands clutched together at his chest, and after a moment, he replied, sounding breathless.

“John…Look.”

He did, and after a long, surprised moment, he found himself smiling.

“Oh, my god…”

“Dadada…” Viola said, from where she stood on her blanket, her little otter dangling from one hand while the scarf they’d bought her hung from the other, and she looked up at them and smiled, her eyes shining. “Dadada! Madada!”

“Oh, my god!” John laughed. “Viola Watson Holmes, you’re standing all by yourself!”

She just giggled in answer, and Sherlock smiled, moving closer and crouching down not too far from her, holding his hands out.

“…Come here, Vi…Come to Dada…”

She blinked at him, and as John watched in amazement, she took an unsteady step, than another, but lost her balance and fell forward into Sherlock’s awaiting arms, the detective laughing happily as he hugged his little girl, standing.

“Well done, Viola!”

John watched as Sherlock gave a small spin, than kissed Viola’s cheek.

“Very well done! You’ll be walking about in no time!” The curly haired man turns to his best friend, “Don’t you think so, Mommy?”

John laughed under his breath, before moving closer and kissing Viola’s head, unknowingly resting a hand on Sherlock’s back as he did so.

“Yes. I’m very proud of our little girl.”

Sherlock was beaming as he rambled and walked to the kitchen, Viola just smiling up at him, John found himself…utterly glad he hadn’t gone on the date.

He would’ve missed Viola’s first steps. He remembered his mum always going on about how proud she’d been when he’d started to first walk, and he couldn’t believe he would’ve missed the whole thing for a measly date that probably wouldn’t have gone well anyways.

I’d rather never date again then miss a moment like that…

“Come on, John. Let’s eat before we have to put Vi to bed.”

“Coming Sherlock.”

********************~~~~G.D.B?~~~~ ********************
Sherlock woke up and he blinked, feeling the small ball of warmth that was his little Violin curled up against his chest, her hair tickling his chin.

He smiles, gently and slowly slipping her arms from where they tangled around his neck, and he tucked his blanket in around her before getting up and heading for the door.

The morning out was pale grey, and a cool breeze came through the cracked windows, and Sherlock inhales deeply, relishing in the silence of the flat before the morning routine started.

John would be up soon, hair messy and eyes still half asleep, wearing his cute blue and white robe over pajama pants and a grey t-shirt, and after a murmured good morning, he’d go to the kitchen and start breakfast, putting tea to boil. As the tea boiled, he’d check his blog, and tell Sherlock to go wake Viola as he served them.

Sherlock would dress Vi, usually in a striped shirt and overalls, make the daily attempt at brushing her hair, then sit her on his lap as they ate and chatted, feeding her eggs and a sipper cup of juice (a gift from Mrs. Hudson).

Brought back from his dreaming by sharp knocking at the door, Sherlock looked over, frowning. He pulls his robe, which had been discarded over the arm of John’s chair, on, before heading to the front door.

“Hello?”

“Sherlock. It’s Lestrade, open the door.”

Sherlock was reaching for the handle when he heard Viola begin fussing.

“Hold on.”

“Sherlock, just open the door.”

“I said wait.”

He heard the DI sigh, and he walked back to his room, finding the little girl sitting up, her eyes immediately looking to him as he came in.

“Dadada.” She babbled, reaching up her little arms, and Sherlock smiled, leaning down and scooping her up, kissing her head.

“Good morning, my little Violin~”

She giggled, rubbing her eyes and laying her head on his shoulder.

“Dadada…”

“Come on. We’ll have Mommy make Lestrade go away for a while so we can eat and take you down to Mrs. Hudson so me and Mommy can go out for groceries and to find out who murdered Miss. Forest and why she had you and left you on our doorstep!”

She looked up at him, head tilted, but she seemed not to care and smiled.

“Madada?”

“Yes, Mommy.” Sherlock walked through the apartment, and over to John’s room, knocking.

“John?”

“…”

“John…JOHN.”

“Wha…Oh, for the love of…” The bed creaks and he opens the door, dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and plaid boxers. “What on earth do you want, Sherlock?”

“Lestrade’s at the door. Vi wants her morning bottle. Make him go away.”

John glares crossly, but after a double team of puppy dog eyes (Viola having picked up on it from Sherlock), he sighs, scratching his head.

“Alright, alright... But this means you’re paying for dinner tonight, you hear.”

“I know of a great restaurant nearby that gives children under 7 free meals.”

“Perfect~”

Sherlock watched John walk away, pulling on his robe and tying it shut, and he found himself giggling lightly, earning an intrigued gaze from Viola. Sherlock just smiled down at her, before whisking her off to the kitchen, and holding her in the crook of one arm as he readied her drink.

“What kind of juice today, little violin? I’m sorry Mommy finished all your apple yesterday, but we still have grape and-”

“Sherlock.” He turned, seeing John standing with Lestrade and a few other officers.

Instinctively, Sherlock moved so that Viola was as on his other side, away from them, and his grip tightened on her. He didn’t like the look on their faces.

“Good morning, Lestrade. Officers.”

Lestrade came forward, the look on his face like he was trying to keep professional, but couldn’t exactly get there.

“Sherlock, we…we came for Emily Forest’s baby.”

The detective’s heart crashed to his feet, and he took a step back, only to hit the counter.

“W-What? No. Emily…Emily Forest wasn’t her mother. There’s nothing in her files about having a baby!”

“Emily Forest had that little girl a year and 2 months ago…and she gave her up for adoption. She was adopted last month by a couple, Steven and Ruby Harris. Her name as of then is-”

“NO!” Sherlock was shaking, his eyes defiant. “Her name…is Viola Rose Johanna Watson Holmes…”

“She was kidnapped from her parent’s home a week ago, while they were outside and she was napping. Emily Forest was seen driving away from their home.”

“….We need to give her back, Sherlock.”

The detective looked at his partner in shock, but John was looking at the ground.

“John…No…No.” Completely ignoring the officers, Sherlock walked over to him. “She…She’s our daughter, John…”

Viola was looking around, scared, and after a minute, she started crying. Sherlock hugged her, trying to calm her as John kept talking, his voice void of emotion.

“…It’s not fair of us, Sherlock. Lestrade told me how much Vi’s parents are worrying-”

“No! We’re her family…” Sherlock turned to Lestrade, not knowing how vulnerable he was being, how much the heartbreak was showing in his eyes. “Please…Please don’t take her Lestrade.”

The DI looked at John, then Sherlock, then at the little girl who looked so much like the detective it was shocking, and he hated himself for what he was doing.

John put his arms around Sherlock as Lestrade took Viola from his friend’s arms, even as he tried resisting.

“No, stop, give her back, please!”

John held his friend back, and he felt his heart shatter at the sound of Viola crying and screaming.

“DADA!! MADA!!”

“N-No!” Sherlock reached out for her, but John kept his grip. “Wait, let me say goodbye! She needs her things-”

But they were gone, closing the door behind them, Viola’s crying still heard as they went downstairs and outside.

“No…No, no, nonononononono.” He shook his head, a single tear welling in his eye as he shoved away from John, and the doctor just listened to his bedroom door slamming, the sound echoing through the silent flat.

John stood alone in the kitchen, and after a long moment, he realized…he was crying.  Warm tears running down his face, and he wiped at them, plopping down in his chair.

He lets the angry tears fall from his eyes, and he wants to shoot someone, anyone, mostly Lestrade, for doing this not only to him, but to Sherlock.

His friend had been…so open and warm and smiling so much more lately. He’d laugh and despite calling him ‘Mommy’ around Viola, they got along so much better.

They didn’t fight as much, and would usually watch something on the telly together once their little girl was asleep, or bother him into listening while he practiced his violin, telling him all the little things Viola had done if he’d gone out for groceries or was at work.

The smiles he was welcomed home with, and when Sherlock would make him tea or coffee when he was too tired and worn to make it himself after work.

…They’d started becoming a real family…and now it was all gone.

He stood up, went and got dressed, and paused briefly in front of Sherlock’s door.

“…Sherlock? …Sherlock, I’m going out for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

There wasn’t an answer.

Where was he going? The shop. For what? Beer and wine and anything else he decided they’d need once Sherlock came out of his room…

Well…if he ever came out again…

********************~~~~G.D.B?~~~~ ********************

 …Sherlock hated crying.

He always had. Since he was younger and was made fun of by the idiot school children because he was brilliant. Because he was different.

Now, as he lay on his bed, curled around his pillow, he both hated the pain in his chest and the tears running down his face.

He hated Lestrade for taking his little Violin from him, he hated John for making him want their family to work, he hated himself for not trying harder to keep her, and he hated Emily Forest for leaving that little girl on their doorstep in the first place.

The thought of Viola, beautiful, crystal eyed, curly haired, sweet smiled Viola, made him sob again, his throat and heart hurting so much.

He wanted to scream, but he simply gripped his pillow tighter.

Make it stop…Please…Make. It. STOP.