A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! So...I know I posted this a few days late for Father's Day, but I was inspired so here you go lol...super fluffy one for you all...this is a song fic to the song Daddy's Hands by Holly Dunn...covered by none other than....Yours Truly!! That's right babies..I am including my own cover of this song for you all to listen to...don't judge me too harshly....The quality sucks and I look terrible, but I love the song, and I finally got my 12 string back and wanted to play....I really hope you like it!!! Enjoy<3
John and Sherlock were guided to their seats, John accepting the program handed to him with a kind smile. They had been seated in the front row, since they were parents, and wound up dead centre of the stage.
They were at Rosie's high school's Father's Day Concert, and Sherlock was practically vibrating with excitement. Rosie was preforming today, and Sherlock had never felt such immense pride.
Since she was registered under Watson, she wasn't going to preform until the very end, and Sherlock bounced his knee restlessly as the lights dimmed.
The kids that went ahead of Rosie were mediocre, stumbling their way through their songs and all of them blushing with embarrassment.
"That girl is singing half a step flat-"
"Shut up Sherlock." Finally, it was Rosie's turn, and Sherlock felt John grab his arm, grinning excitedly up at him.
Rosie walked onstage, her guitar slung over her shoulder, and Sherlock felt a swell of pride for the girl.
Rosie looked so much like John, from her stature to the way her lips curled into a confident smile as she took her place on the stool at centre stage. She adjusted her microphone and plugged her guitar in, sending a wink towards John and Sherlock.
Rosie looked like she belonged up there, grinning down at the crowd and plucking a few notes on her guitar to catch people's attention.
"Hello everyone. My name is Rosie Watson, and this song is called 'Daddy's Hands', and it's dedicated to my two amazing dads, the best dads a girl could ask for." Sherlock blushed and John grinned and wrapped his arms tighter around Sherlock's.
Rosie started strumming a pleasant rhythm, filling the air with the sounds of her guitar, and as she started to sing, the screen behind her lit up with pictures of John and Sherlock.
I remember Daddy's hands, folded silently in prayer
And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare
Pictures of John grinning down at a crying baby Rosie, of Sherlock stretched out on their sofa, little Rosie curled up on his chest, both sound asleep.
You could read quite a story, in those calluses and lines
Years of work and worry, have left their mark behind
Pictures of Sherlock hunched over the microscope, looking like a mad scientist in his too-large lab coat and ridiculous safety goggles that John had insisted he wear.
Pictures of John at the clinic, how Rosie got those, Sherlock would never guess, blood staining the front of his own lab coat as he clearly rushed to save someone's life.
Sherlock remembered that day. A little boy had been shot, died on the table. John had a danger night that night, nearly drank himself to death. He had never really recovered from that.
I remember Daddy's hands, how they held my Father tight
That picture of their first dance as husbands that Sherlock loved so much filled the screen. John's grin was so pure and happy in that picture, and it always gave Sherlock so much joy to see it.
