•Teenlock•Parentlock• If All Else Fails

17• A Life Without Regret

-Three weeks later-

Sherlock lay on his back, his hands in the prayer position he used exclusively for his mind palace. His son, William lay on his chest, his little arms grasping at his fathers sleeves. John watched, eagerly, from his chair by the window. He smiled as William lifted his head a little, development. That was definitely higher head holding than yesterday. John clapped his hands at his son, who proceeded to flop back down onto Sherlock's chest. Sherlock frowned at this, not awakening from his self induced trance. John sighed and watched Hattie Rose snooze in a v shaped pillow. Things were unnaturally quiet in 221b that morning john wasn't sure if he liked it. He got up and looked out the window. He hadn't been out in about a week. Could he go out? He looked at Sherlock. Would a babies crying be enough to get him out his mind palace...? No. It needed full on screams to get him to respond sometimes. John sighed, opening one of the windows, letting the December air roll in. He picked William off of Sherlock, only to be greeted with a big surprise.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and 'woke up'. "William. Back. Now." He said. John noted the sense of forcefulness in his voice. "Oh, John. Hello." Sherlock smiled, taking his husbands hand and kissing it. John smiled goofily.

"You're going to be such an amazing parent, you know that?" John said, pulling Sherlock up and kissing his soft lips. Sherlock blushed.

"Don't push it, Watson." He smiled, raising an eyebrow.

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John was out shopping. It was the first time he'd been anywhere without the twins since they'd been born. As he wondered around the isles, almost aimlessly, he couldn't help but feel people staring at him. He was sure they weren't, it was just that... Feeling. Like in the middle of the night, when you know your completely alone, but you can feel eyes on the back of your neck nevertheless. John peered around the corner, no one. Nothing. He sighed and made his way to the check out, basket in hand. He groaned as he saw the woman at the till. Possibly the only hateful person on this small island. Her name was Fiona, and she disapproved of just about everything. You can imagine how she felt about a homosexual couples. Especially homosexual couples with a kid, let alone two. John looked at his watch, the time read 2:45 PM. This vile female didn't get off her shift for another hour or so. John merely refused to wander round the small supermarket for that amount of time. He grudgingly walked up to the till. "Afternoon, Fiona." He said, dumping his basket on the counter as politely as he felt necessary. The elderly woman mumbled a hello and looked John up and down with upmost curiosity. She wore a golden cross necklace around her neck. John noticed this and thought about the possibility of all her hatred coming from her religion. Nah. He didn't want to believe something made out to be so good could produce so much evil. But he knew, of course, this wasn't the case.

"I'd ask about a christening for your twins but frankly I don't care." She stated, slowly putting John's items through.

"Well it's not like we're going to invite you." John rudely replied. He started putting his stuff in some plastic bags. The pair were quiet for a moment before John spoke. "You look nice today." He said, with a smile. John remembered his promise to Harrie when they were kids. He promised to A. Always take care of her and B. To always see the good in people, even when it wasn't visible to the naked eye. John had been taught at a young age that the causes for bad or rude behaviour usually began with something upsetting. Fiona ignored his compliment and took the money out of his hands whilst muttering 'filthy. Filthy.' Under her breath. John sighed and turned to her. "You know, I almost died once. Twice, actually. Both times I can safely say I felt no regret for the life I had lead. Can you say the same?" And he exited the shop.

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(Hey guys, just me... Time jump ahead.. Sorry!)

(Yep! It's another note! Sorry, just to say its Dan [Izzy's friend] updating some of this now. This next part is about needles and injections and whilst writing this, Izzy had a massive panic attack. She's okay now but she hates injections so she asked me to write this bit. So if any of you have a similar phobia, I suggest you skip a bit. Lurve Dan)

#

(Izzy)

-One Year Later-

Sherlock sat in the passenger seat of John's car. Unfortunately, they were still on the island, unable to come home due to Mycroft not pulling his head out of his ass. Sherlock tapped rhythmically on the dash board to the Panic! At the disco CD that was blaring out the speakers. Hattie-Rose and William sat in the back, in their car seats, both clapping along, out of time. John smiled at his perfect little family. He looked into the wing mirror and saw his gorgeous baby girl looking back at him with a smile on her face. She looked a lot like him. The same round face, the same soft and flawless skin, the same blonde-sand coloured hair, but with a twist of Sherlocks tight curls and ice blue eyes. She really was beautiful. She wore her already thick shoulder length hair in two bunches with little pink ribbons around them. Sherlock had proved to be an expert at pigtails. "How are you little man?" He called back to his son, over the noise of "I Write Sins Not Tragedies." William nodded at his father. It was shocking how much he looked like Sherlock, actually. The same chestnut curls, the same cute cheekbones, the same dimples, the same posture, the same skinny tallness, the same everything. He had a hint of John in him. His smile. The way the corners of his mouth turned up when he was amused, or the way he didn't show his teeth when he laughed. All these little things that made him and John inseparable.

But William was quiet. He rarely smiled, and was obviously the more timid of the two. Hattie-Rose, like her namesake, always led her brother into trouble. Weather it was crawling around the kitchen while their father was doing experiments or waddling awkwardly into the fire place (that didn't work, thankfully), whatever, Hattie-Rose was always in charge.

The car pulled up outside the doctors surgery in which John worked. Sherlock took a deep breath and held John's hand. "This is absolutely necessary?" Sherlock asked. "I hate seeing them cry." He looked forlornly at his husband.

"Don't look at me like that, love." John sighed. "Unless you want them to get measles or mumps it's got to be done. I hate it as much as you do." He said. He smiled back at the nervous looking children.

"Can you at least do it?" Sherlock pleaded, taking both John's hands and using his puppy dog eyes.

"Bloody hell, sherlock." John sighed, looking away and shaking his head. "I'll see what I can do."

#

"Hattie-Rose Missey and William Gregory Watson Holmes to room 34 for your MMR Plleeeaaassseee." The annoying receptionists voice rang through the waiting room, stopping the twins from they're okay. Sherlock kissed John's cheek with his Cupid's bow lips, and picked up his son, who nuzzled into his coat collar.

William and Sherlock were a match made in heaven. William turned to Sherlock when he was uncomfortable with the situation around him or whenever he didn't feel safe, and it was fair to say he attached himself to Sherlock like monkey to a tree whenever Sherlock was near, covering his face with Sherlocks upturned collar or navy blue scarf. "It's okay, William." Sherlock assured him. "I'll be right here."

The four of them sat down in John's colleges office. Doctor Minogue. Nice guy, in John's opinion. "Hey Terry." John said, a weak smile on his face. He wasn't looking forward to this. Not one bit.

"John! Hallo! This must be the famous Sherlock we all hear so much about!" Dr Minogue shook Sherlocks hand, firmly. "And these are your kids? Oh my! They're adorable! Oh, that little man is the spitting image of you, Sherlock!" He smiled. Sherlock smiled back, beaming with pride. "And this little madam! What a beauty! Oh you've done well, John. Very well! Now! Lets get on with these injections shall we?"

"Ah yes, Doctor... I was wondering if... I... Could do it...?" John stammered.

"Well, you can..." Doctor Minogue looked a little confused. "But inflicting pain on your own child makes them distrust you. I know you don't want to hurt them John, but trust me I know, but you'd hate for your children to dislike you over this...?"

"Yes. I suppose so." John said.

(Daniel takes over *puts on sunglasses* yeah bitches lets do this)

"Who's up first?" He asked, smiling softly at Sherlock. Sherlock looked between his kids protectively.