Father

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Hey guys!

Decided to name the baby William because I feel I could work well with that name, plus it was recommended quite a bit, and I like it.

Anyway, thanks for commenting, and sorry this took longer than usual.

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It's been a few days since I gave birth.

I'm currently in the hospital still, I should be able to be released tomorrow.

I have my baby in arms.

Little William.

I don't know how, but I managed to pull it off.

I managed to forget a little about Sherlock in the months of my pregnancy.

He would never be home, always on a case with John, but now that I have a baby, a little angel, I can't help but to think of him because he looks like Sherlock.

His eyes are a very light blue with hints of green. His cheeks are flushed pink, and his little nose is so adorable.

I stare down at him as he squirms in the blanket he's wrapped in, a small smile on my face.

Sherlock hasn't seen the baby yet.

There's firm knock on the door, before the curly haired sociopath walks in.

"Where is it?" He asks quickly.

"Where's what?" I ask, tilting my head.

"The...thing--baby." He quickly corrects himself.

"William?" I tell him.

"Don't call me that." He stares at me irritably.

"No, the baby. I named him William..." I smile, stroking William's cheek with my pinky.

He finally notices that I'm holding the infant.

"William..." He speaks softly, sitting down beside me, and staring at the infant.

"D-Do you want to...hold him?" I ask quietly.

He looks at my face, before I hand William over to him.

He stares down at William, who squirms around uncomfortably.

I watch as Sherlock rocks him, and I feel a bad ache in my heart.

I love them both.

I want to be with them both forever.

Leaning back in my seat, I feel my eyes sting, and a burning cringe crawls up my entire body.

Sherlock notices.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Please take good care of him." I tear up.

"I would never let anything happen to him." Sherlock says sternly.

But I wasn't talking to Sherlock.

I was talking to William.

As I begin to fall asleep, I hear Sherlock chuckle.

He'll be a great father.

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The next morning, I wake up and get discharged from the hospital.

Sherlock was there, helping me with the baby, as we got a cab to 221b.

He still doesn't remember me.

Meaning that he doesn't love me,

But as long as he loves William, then my point of existance is complete.

John and Mary were kind enough to help us get a few things for William.

A crib, some toys, etc.

I was now in the living room, while Sherlock was tucking William to bed.

I still love Sherlock, with all my heart.

Everyday I crave him, his lips, his devilish curls between my fingers, his scent, his eyes gazing into my own.

His deductions...

I take a seat on the sofa, and stare at the wall, as Sherlock walks in, quietky shutting the door of the room that William was sleeping in.

"He's asleep." Sherlock tells me, sitting next to me.

"Thank you." I mumble under my breath, finding it difficult to speak.

"Stop." He says quietly.

"What?" I tilt my head in confusion.

"Stop holding whatever it is your holding in." He tells me.

He stares at my face, and my heart aches, as my eyes tear up.

"Don't...stare at me like that." My voice cracks.

"Just let it out, Y/N." His expression softens a bit.

I shake my head and halt all my tears back, as I fight the ache in my heart.

"I'm here." He whispers, taking my hand.

The moment I feel his hand on my own, my tears begin to spill out vigorously.

He wipes my tears, his hands trembling slightly.

"Tell me what's wrong." He says.

"There's nothing wrong." I shudder. I can't tell him. If I do, Jim will...burn everyone.

He leans in and kisses me, stroking my hair.

It's not real affection.

I'm tired of this...

Fake affection.

I craved the real thing, not...an act.

"Stop..." I whisper, pushing him away gently.

He stares intently at me.

"You don't have to fake it." I tell him.

"I did this to you...the least you can do is let me try to pretend that I love you. You didn't deserve a life like this." He tells me.

"Pretending is worse, and I don't need your love." I stare into his eyes.

"Then what do you need?" He asks softly.

"Nothing." I reply.

"Stop the lies, Y/N. Why don't you trust me? So, what, I don't love you, why does that matter if you say you don't need love? Just tell me." He demands loudly.

"You're gonna wake up William." I scold quietly.

"What are you hiding from me?" He asks again, more quieter, fixing an intense glare on me.

"I told you already...nothing." I say sternly.

He grabs a hold of my wrist, tightly squeezing it.

"Tell me. NOW." His eyes burn with rage and fury as the grip he has on my wrist becomes tighter.

I wince in pain, and I don't reply.

His eyes widen and he quickly removes his tight grip.

"I...I'm sorry..." He stares at me, whilst standing up and backing away.

"Don't go..." I whisper, as my tears begin to fall again, I stand up to try and stop him, ignoring the deep pain in my wrist and heart.

He quickly grabs his jacket, and scarf, before exiting through the door.

This kind of stuff happens often nowadays.

The only thing I can do is take sleeping pills and hope for the best, until I get a word from Jim.

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