The Perfect Cradle (Johnlock mpreg)

Another Visit

Almost two weeks later, John has watched Sherlock suffer from severe boredom from having no cases and being stuck in the flat. Anything from shooting the wall, to toying with his experimental body parts in the fridge.

"Sherlock, if you want to go out for a case, then go. I'll be fine, I can take care of myself." John lowered himself onto the couch then covered himself with a blanket.

"I've already asked, Lestrade hasn't had anything above a 5 in severity for the past couple of weeks." Sherlock interrupted, pacing the floor as he wore nothing but his sweatpants and his dressing gown, which flared behind him with every step he took. His bare chest and arms both covered in at least a dozen nicotine patches.

"Take one of them! If it means you getting out of the flat and busy again, then take one!" John said, grabbing his laptop from the coffee table and setting it in his lap.

"What's the point of going if you're not going to be there?" Sherlock pleaded, dropping to his knees next to John and closing the blogger's laptop. John smiled then let it disappear as quickly as it came as he sat up and grunted in pain.

"What is it John?" Sherlock asked, putting his hand to John's belly.

"I don't know. It just doesn't...feel right." John looked to Sherlock as he pressed his hand to his stomach for any movement but nothing was there.

"When was the last time he moved?" Sherlock asked, looking to John as the blogger tried to think back to the last movement the baby made.

"I can't remember, it can't be that long ago." John said, praying it really hasn't been that long. He knew that being a carrier also came with a lot of risks. Miscarriage, losing the baby after birth, or losing his own life as it takes a major toll on the carrier themselves. He couldn't bear it.

"Let's get you into bed." Sherlock picked John up bridal style, setting his laptop back on the coffee table, and taking him into the bedroom. He set him down in the bed and pulled the blankets back to cover him up as John gladly settled into the mattress. Sherlock walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in, sitting on top of the blankets, as he brought his knees up to his chest and laid his head on John's shoulder.

"I love you." John mumbled. Sherlock smirked. "I love you too." The detective drifted his hand to John's stomach, rubbed it lightly, then took his hand back. John quickly grabbed his husband's large hand as he placed it back on his belly. "He likes it." John stated as Sherlock softly smiled.

"I might have something else he might like." Sherlock looked to John, the blogger raising his eyebrow in question. The detective reached over as pulled back the blankets and lifted the shirt that covered John's stomach, revealing his husband's stretched skin. He bent over and started covering John's belly in sweet kisses as he lightly hummed in his throat. Sherlock pulled away, pressing his hands to his husband's stomach and whispering the lyrics to a song.

"Far over, the misty mountains cold

to dungeons deep, and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day

to find our long, forgotten gold.

The pines were roaring, on the height,

the winds were moaning, in the night.

The fire was red, it flaming spread;

the trees like torches, blazed with light."

Sherlock finished the familiar song, pressing his lips to John's swollen belly once again then sitting back up and snuggling into John's chest.

"I didn't know you could sing." John said, stroking the detective's curls.