𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐬³ | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱

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"I can't believe it," John laughed, gazing at my son, who was cradled in Sherlock's arms. Sherlock was sat on my bed, our hips pressed together and my hand stroked my son's chestnut curls.

"I just- Sherlock Holmes, has a son. I mean, I'm still getting over the fact that he has a wife, but now he has a child too!" Mrs Hudson, Sherlock and I laughed, all aglow with joy. Sherlock hadn't looked up once, his eyes fixed on the small, curious bundle his hands. "I think Sherlock's in disbelief too," I smiled, watching my husband.

"He really is perfect though," Mrs Hudson gushed, tears pooling in her eyes. "I dread to ask the question, but have you got a name yet?" She asked, smiling at us. I gazed at my husband, and he looked up, meeting my eyes, and nods. I turn back to Mrs Hudson and John, nodding.

"William," I said, "William John Holmes. Named after the two most important men in his life. His father and his uncle." I smiled, looking at John, who clasped his hand to his mouth as tears began to fall. He sniffed,

"You two- you have no idea how much that means," he began to cry and Mrs Hudson pulled him into a hug.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "I thought me and William were supposed to be the emotional ones here!" William gurgled, agreeing. I laughed, feeling lighter than air on my little cloud of love. We heard a soft knock on the door and we turned to see Sherlock's parents, grinning away.

Mrs Holmes walked in and placed her hands on her mouth, "oh, Gosh, finally, a grandchild!" She started crying too, as Sherlock gently held him out to her. She gasped and stroked his arm, "he's so perfect, look at him. I am going to spoil you rotten, you little angel." I laughed, as Sherlock's father came and stood next to his wife and even he started to well up too, "hello, little fella," he whispered. Showing off, William smiled, his crystal eyes shining. He really is going to be the most spoilt child, I thought.

After everyone had left, Sherlock gently placed William into the clear cot next to my bed and I watched him as he snuggled up in the blanket. I was glowing with both sweat and love. Fatigued, I mirrored my son and pulled the blankets up and closed my eyes.

Sherlock assumed I was asleep when our son started to wriggle and cry. He had no idea that I could hear everything.

Shooshing softly, Sherlock scooped William up and held him so that his tiny feet were pressed against his chest and his round head was supported by his father's hands. I could hear them both sniffing softly, as Sherlock began to sing, swaying gently;

"My love, so sweet, so tender and true;

With skin so soft and eyes deep blue.

Do you feel the soft wind that calls?

Through emerald ferns and trees so tall.

My darling, here you're safe 'till light,

In the land where dreams and hopes take flight.

So close your eyes and let your soul soar,

I promise to love you forevermore."

William was beginning to doze off, his breathing becoming deeper. Sherlock smiled, just as in love as I was. Perhaps even more. He started to whisper, "I love you so much, my son. I am never going to leave you, ever. Even if that means I have to take you to all the crime scenes," he chuckled, "thought I doubt your mother would allow that. Everything I have, I give it all to you. I will teach you everything I know. And I promise, I promise, that I will do better. I will be the best father in the world to you. I never even dreamed of having a family. And now I have you and your mother. I am the luckiest man alive, my William. No one will ever hurt you. No one will ever love you as much as your mother and I do. I promise to love you, forevermore."

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