Baker Street Boys

45

//NO WARNING APPLY//

Sherlock and John have decided to have a child of their own after getting married. This is the story from the moment Harry goes into labour to Hamish growing up and leaving home. (Lots of Parentlock fluff).

Chapter 1

It was a damp, dark evening and the air was humid. All was quiet in Baker Street until the shriek of a young woman echoes through the December night.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH"

"Sssshhhh Harry it's okay I got you..."

Harry, John's older sister, was a short woman with natural bleach blonde hair, which was layered down to her shoulders. As she clung to the mantel piece on top of the fire place in 221B, her bluey-grey eyes were framed by her smudged heavy makeup. Her slightly shorter younger brother clasped her upper arms, as he attempted to move her to the empty sofa that he and his lover usually lay on.

"AHHHHH JOHN I'M HURTING SO MUCH...*GASP*...I CAN'T MOVE!"

"Harry, look at me, I need you to get comfortable okay, trust me I'm a doctor. Thank you. I called the ambulance the minute your waters broke; they are on their way I promise. Sherlock will meet us there." John cupped his sister's cheek and whispered, "It's all going to be okay..."

Suddenly, the door to the flat burst open and a team of paramedics rushed in single file and lay a stretcher down on the floor. John let two of the medics lay Harry down, while he stood back completely and utterly shocked by the reality of what was happening. In all his years of being a doctor, nothing could have prepared him for what was happening in front of his eyes. After a long nine months of waiting, his sister was finally giving to his and Sherlock's baby. As he followed, in haste, behind the stretcher, a smile broadened across his worn and tired face.

Chapter 2

John was paced from one side of the small waiting room to the other. He constantly checked his phone every few seconds to see if Sherlock had contacted him. The lack of Sherlock's presence was playing tricks with his mind, and even though he had seen and assisted with several different women in labour, the idea of it actually happening in his life made his brain fill with doubt, fear and confusion. John's military strengthened muscles tensed when someone put a hand on his shoulder, but when the familiar warmth of a shallow breathe reached his neck, his body relaxed into the tight embrace of his lover.

"You're late..." John's voice cracked into a whisper as he tried to speak, so he let Sherlock's mind deduce the rest of his sentence by his body language or heart pulse or aesthetic appearance or whatever the consulting detective did to make himself so amazing.
"John I'm sorry, there was traffic and the cab had to take a detour and and and...*sigh*...is she okay?"

As John looked up at the flushed and slightly panic stricken man behind him, he realised Sherlock, the usually cold, disconnected man he fell in love with, was actually expressing emotion. This rare occurrence had last happened when Sherlock had proposed, to the ex-army doctor, in the middle of Angelo's Italian Restaurant, two years ago. The two men stood in silence gazing into each other's eyes, lost in the moment of stress and anxiety, when a nurse came out of the delivery room.

"Doctor and Mr Watson-Holmes?"

"Yes." Said Sherlock as he instinctively used his advantage of height to step in front of his small John, as if to manifest a human shield, to protect his husband from anything that might hurt him.

"Congratulations, you have a baby boy and your sister is absolutely fine Doctor Watson-Holmes, there were no complications during her giving birth."

John sighed in relief and as he turned around Sherlock's tight waist, he was certain he saw tears in his central heterochromia blue and green eyes.