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Sherlock opens the door and steps to the side letting John to enter the flat first. He gently rocks the baby who is in his arms while walking to the sofa and Sherlock picks the blue bag before closing the door.
“See, Hamish?” John sits on the sofa and caresses the baby’s head “This is your home now. Did you like it?”
The baby looks around with curious eyes and Sherlock sits by John’s side.
“He has your eyes” John looks at Sherlock, smiling.
“And his hair is blonde like yours” Sherlock says caressing Hamish’s tiny hand with his fingertip.
“Maybe it will darken when he gets older”
Sherlock feels Hamish grabbing his finger with his tiny hand and looks at the baby.
“Someone here is really strong even being so young” he flexes his finger, but Hamish doesn’t let go and smiles “Do you think I will be a good parent for him, John? You know that I don’t know how to take care of children.”
“Me neither” John replies “I only have a little notion of what to do. But like we talked before deciding to have Hamish, we are going to work it out together. And you will be a wonderful father to him, I don’t doubt it. Don’t you think, little bee?” He rocks Hamish gently and he laughs.
“Little bee?” Sherlock chuckles.
“C’mon. It’s cute. And he liked it”
“Alright. Little bee.” He tickles Hamish’s belly and he laughs a little louder than before.
---//---
Three weeks passed since Hamish’s arrive to 221B. Sherlock and John have bought a crib for Hamish and put it in the living room while his room wasn’t finish yet. They shared their responsibilities about Hamish, but most of the time John was the one who took care of the baby. He would carry him around the house, wake up at night when he cried, change his clothes and give him bath. Sherlock would make the baby’s bottles and hand him the clothes and diaper when he was changing him and the towel at bath, but John knew it wasn’t enough for Hamish and even him, who now was growing tired.
John was in the kitchen making dinner while Sherlock was working on John’s laptop and Hamish was playing with some toy inside his crib. The detective looked at the screen thoughtfully, wondering about his last experiments. He heard the sound of Hamish’s toy falling to the floor and deduced it fell through one of the spaces between the grids. He didn’t worry if the baby would cry because of the lost toy since he placed other three of his favorites inside the crib and would turn his attention now to one of them. He continued typing when suddenly he heard a creak from the crib. He turned his head and saw that Hamish climbed up the crib and now had one leg of it, his tiny hands grabbing the grids and he knew the baby would fall at any second. John was at the kitchen, he wouldn’t come to grab him before he fell. He was the only one near enough. He rushed to the crib, almost letting the chair fall, and picked up Hamish. The baby wriggled on his arms and Sherlock turned him to face him. Hamish raised his hand and grabbed a fistful of Sherlock’s hair and he winced in pain.
“John” he called him “John!” he said louder and the baby pulled his hair.
“I’m here!” John rushed from the kitchen and when he saw the scene, he bit his bottom lip trying not to laugh.
“It hurts” Sherlock growled at him “And you better pick him before he rips my hair!”
“Okay, okay” John sighed and carefully picks Hamish from Sherlock’s hands “There, there” He rocked the baby in his arms “Where you trying to make dad bald?” He chuckled.
The baby seemed to ignore John and raised his arms to Sherlock. He caressed the baby’s hand with his hand, but he was surprised when Hamish grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to climb off John’s arms.
“John” Sherlock called him taking a step back.
“Calm down, Hamish” John pulled the baby closer making him let go of Sherlock’s wrist. “I’m going to pick your toy, okay?” He rocked Hamish trying to get his attention.
But Hamish didn’t turn his face to John and started to cry loud. John turned him, making him rests his head on his shoulder, and rocked him gently, but the baby didn’t stop crying.
“Sherlock.” John called him “Go and pick his pacifier.”
Sherlock rushed to the bedroom and John paced around the living room, rocking the baby. Hamish didn’t stop crying and that worried John. He noticed how shaken was Sherlock when Hamish grabbed his wrist and tried to climb off his arms. Sherlock avoided carrying Hamish and he had noticed it at the first week. He thought that maybe he carried Hamish most of the time and Sherlock didn’t want to bother him, but now he saw there was something else he was avoiding it. Sherlock came back from the bedroom with Hamish’s pacifier. The baby was crying silently and John caressed his back.
“Sherlock.” he whispered “The pacifier.”
Sherlock gently put the pacifier in Hamish’s mouth and slowly the baby stopped crying, but his face was still sad. Sherlock frowned and caressed the baby’s head. Suddenly, the smell of something burning came from the kitchen.
“Oh my god, the dinner!” John realized.
“I will take care of it.” Sherlock rushed to the kitchen.
When Sherlock left, Hamish began to whimper and John paced with him around the room.
“Shhhh…” He rocked the baby gently “Dad’s here… Dad’s here…”
Hamish went quiet, but he knew his son was still sad. He decided to talk to Sherlock later.
---//---
It was late night. Sherlock was in their bedroom putting his pajamas when John came from the living room.
“How is Hamish?” Sherlock asked.
“Fine. He fell asleep some minutes ago.” John replied.
“I put a clean towel for you in the bathroom.”
“Thank you” he walked to the bathroom door, but stopped before opening it. He sighed and looked at Sherlock “We need to talk.”
The silence filled the room for some minutes and then Sherlock sighed.
“It’s about what happened earlier, isn’t it?” Sherlock said.
“Yes” John replied “Hamish is sad.”
“I know…”
John took a deep breath before start talking again.
“Sherlock, what’s going on? In the first week, I thought you didn’t carry Hamish because I was carrying him most of the time and you didn’t want to bother or even was kind of jealous, but now I think I was wrong. When he grabbed your wrist and tried to climb off my arms, you stepped back. He was just begging you to carry him and you refused. Why?”
Sherlock looked down and John waited. He was trying to make an answer, he knew that.
“Since Hamish’s arrive, I didn’t carry him because I was afraid I could let him fall and hurt him” Sherlock answered “He’s a baby, he’s fragile. I don’t know how I would react if he wriggled on my arms. I could have let him fall or even grab him tight and hurt him. I’m afraid that if I carry him around, I could let him slip from my arms and he will get hurt due to my fault.”
“You could have told me at the beginning!”
“I know, but you and him seemed to get along so well… The way you carried him made him feel safe in your arms. I couldn’t do that. The only times I carried him, my arms were shaking!”
“I can teach you how to carry him correctly. Sherlock, he needs you, can’t you see? What you did today made him feel rejected by you!”
“But I love him!”
“He didn’t feel it there. That’s why it took so long to stop him crying. And he is still sad.”
Sherlock sighed and buried his face in his hands. John sat by his side and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I knew I was going to fail as a parent.” Sherlock whispered.
“Hey…”John got closer “That doesn’t mean you are a failure. It means you just need help. Hamish needs you, and you need him. I can help you. I promised you we would do this together.”
“Yes, I remember…”
“So… Just let me help you. We’re going to start slowly. I will stay next to you when you carry him, then after you get used, you can start giving him bath… What do you think?”
Sherlock raised his head and look directly at John.
“Will you stay by my side?”
John took his hand, intertwining their fingers.
“Of course.” He kisses him briefly.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” He chuckled “Now, you go to sleep and I will have my bath. Rest, because tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
John smiled and stood up. He entered the bathroom and leaned against the door after he closed it. He sighed relieved. He thought that after their talk, things were going to get better.
---//---
Things were getting better in 221B. John was helping Sherlock how to carry Hamish. He would show while sitting on the sofa how to carry the baby, drawing his attention to the baby’s head and how to hold him with strength enough to make Hamish feel safe and comfortable and not letting his arms get hurt with the effort. At first, Sherlock would only hold Hamish while sitting on the sofa, but after some time, he got used and would pace a little with the baby around the living room, always near John. But when Hamish wriggled in his arms or would cry, he would call John and the doctor would pick the baby from his arms and see what he needed.
He was happy that Sherlock was getting more confident about carrying Hamish, but he was still the one who was doing most of the responsibilities. And after two weeks of improvement, Hamish started crying more at night. John always was the one who woke up and went to see what the baby needed. At the first nights, he thought it was the usual change of diapers and the baby’s need for something to eat, but after the fourth night, in which it took him more than two hours to get Hamish back to sleep, he got worried. After the seventh night with Hamish crying, he made an appointment with a doctor to see what’s going on with Hamish.
It was late night and John and Sherlock were getting to sleep. John was feeling exhausted because of his lack of sleep in the last week and half and was worried about what the doctor said on the phone with him earlier. He was lying down on the bed looking at the ceiling when Sherlock came from the bathroom.
“John.” Sherlock, lying next to him, already in his pajamas, called “Did you talk to the doctor?”
“Yes.” He replied still looking up.
“And what did he say?”
John sighed and turned his head to Sherlock.
“I told him about what’s going with Hamish at night and he thinks it maybe night terror.”
“Night terror? But normally night terror episodes in children take some minutes.”
“Yes, he said that, but after I said Hamish cries for almost two hours, he told that maybe he will need to sleep at hospital one night so he could see the stage of the night terror…” he sighed “He said if it’s severe, he can develop panic disorder.”
“Panic disorder?! Oh god… What can we do?”
“I don’t know. I tried everything I knew and read, but it seems it didn’t have much effect… We will have to wait for the doctor’s memento tomorrow.” He sighed and turned to his side “When Hamish wakes up, wake me.”
“Alright. Good night, John.”
“Good night, Sherlock.”
---//---
2:30 am when Hamish started crying. Sherlock was lying on the bed, next to John, looking at the ceiling when he heard the baby from the other room. He turned to John to wake him, but he stopped before doing that. He caressed the other’s hair, being gently to not wake him, and saw the dark circles under his eyes. Hamish cried louder but John didn’t move. He was exhausted, Sherlock noticed. He sighed and stood up. He pulled the blanket over John and walked to the other room where Hamish was.
He heard the cries and went to the crib to see the baby. He wriggled under his little blanket and he noticed sweat on his forehead.
“Shhh…” Sherlock whispered caressing the baby’s head, who calmed down a little with the touch “Calm down… Dad’s here.”
Suddenly, he felt Hamish’s little hand grabbing his sleeve and pulling it. He stiffened at the movement. He remembered when Hamish grabbed his wrist weeks ago and trying to climb off John’s arms, but he stepped back and the baby cried. In that moment, John’s voice in his head remembered him that what he had done made Hamish feel rejected by him and how their son needed him too. He was learning to carry Hamish, but he would only carry him next to John since he was still afraid that he might let the baby fall. Hamish was small, totally dependent on him, and he didn’t know how to deal with that. He didn’t know how to take care of Hamish in the same way John did. John had the “paternal instinct” to take care of their son and he took care of Hamish so easily to his eyes. He was learning with his lover, but he wasn’t confident enough to do that by himself. He heard Hamish whimpering and the baby started to cry again, and Sherlock caressed his head, making him notice he was still there. Hamish had his eyes still closed and was holding Sherlock’s sleeve.
“I need to do it” Sherlock whispered to himself.
He carefully used his hands to pick Hamish from the crib and lifted him up. The baby wriggled on his hands, but Sherlock hold him in his arms and rocked him gently. Hamish slowly stopped crying and opened his eyes, looking up.
“Hello Hamish…” Sherlock smiled to the baby “Dad was tired, so I came.”
The baby blinked his eyes and lifted his hand up, trying to reach Sherlock’s face. He noticed and leaned closer, letting the baby touches his face.
“It’s me” Sherlock whispered.
Hamish made a little sound and caressed Sherlock’s face. He smiled to his son and walked around the room with him in his arms.
“Are you hungry?” He changed the baby’s position so he was sitting in one of his arms firmly, resting his head against his shoulder “Let’s see if there’s a bottle for you here…” He opened the fridge and found one “There it is”
Sherlock put the little bottle in the microwave and programmed it for some seconds. He felt something wetting his shirt on the shoulder and noticed Hamish was trying to chew the fabric there.
“You must be really hungry to try to eat my shirt” Sherlock chuckled.
The baby made a sound and pushed from Sherlock’s shoulder to face him. Sherlock put his free hand on the baby’s back holding him still. He felt proud of himself he was doing well even without John by his side.
“What?” He looked at Hamish, who made the same sound again “Weren’t you trying to eat my shirt?” He nuzzled the Hamish’s belly, who laughed. His laughter made Sherlock’s heart melt.
The microwave turned off and Sherlock took the little bottle. He poured some of the milk on his hand to make sure it wouldn’t burn Hamish’s mouth and walked to the living room, sitting on his chair next to the crib, changing the baby’s position, so now he was lying on Sherlock’s arm. Hamish saw the bottle of milk and raised his tiny hands to it. Sherlock carefully put the nipple on the baby’s mouth and watched him drink.
Sherlock noticed how Hamish calmed down since he touched the baby, how he felt comfortable and secure when he held him in his arms. Maybe the night terrors Hamish was having would involve Sherlock, and that’s why it took so long for John to make him go back to sleep: he needed Sherlock, not John, after the nightmares so he could feel safe. Sherlock sighed.
“I’m sorry for being such a bad parent for you lately…” Sherlock whispered caressing the baby’s head while he was still drinking the milk. “I’m so sorry, son… You know I love you…” He kissed Hamish’s forehead softly.
The baby pushed the bottle from his mouth and Sherlock put it on the side table. Hamish yawned and Sherlock put a towel on his shoulder, then made the baby burp and cleaned his mouth with the towel. He stood up and walked to the crib to put him there again, but Hamish grabbed Sherlock’s shirt with both hands and didn’t let go.
“Don’t you want to sleep now?” Sherlock looked at Hamish.
Hamish yawned and rested his head on Sherlock’s shirt. Hamish wanted to sleep next to him, he noticed.
“Okay, little bee” He sat down on his chair again “I will stay with you until you fall asleep.”
Hamish nuzzled his face on Sherlock’s shirt. He caressed the baby’s back with his fingertips and started to hum a song for him. One of the songs he learned on his first violin lessons. He could only remember the melody, not the lyrics, but it was enough. He felt Hamish’s little body relaxing and saw him closing his eyes. He leaned against the chair and closed his eyes, letting his body relax and continued to hum the song softly for Hamish and himself.
---//---
The alarm clock ringed, and John turned it off lazily. He looked up and saw it was 7 am. He woke up with a jump and looked again at the clock. He had slept the whole night and didn’t wake up when Hamish cried. He panicked. That could make Hamish get worse.
“Sherlock!” He looked at the bed but didn’t see the detective.
He wondered where Sherlock must be. He noticed the flat was quiet, way too quiet. He carefully opened the door and walked to the living room quietly. His hands were shaking and he cursed himself for not waking up at the night. He started imagining every type of bad thing that could have happened to Sherlock and Hamish. He shook his head and took a deep breath.
“They are here” He whispered to himself “They are fine. They are here. Somewhere…”
He saw the morning light coming from the living room and entered the room making no sound. His heart missed a beat when he got in the room. His eyes couldn’t believe what was in front of him. Sherlock sleeping in his chair, holding Hamish in his arms. He realized what happened last night. Hamish cried, he didn’t wake up, so Sherlock went to see Hamish, and took care of him until the both of them fell asleep. Hamish was sleeping quietly against Sherlock’s chest and he saw that Sherlock didn’t stop holding Hamish. His arm was firm and he held Hamish comfortable against him, like just the way he taught him in the last weeks. He smiled to himself, proud of Sherlock. He managed to take care of Hamish one night by himself. His heart melted at the scene.
He looked at the clock on the table and took his phone from the table near him, carefully to not make a sound and went to the corridor. Little by little, Sherlock was learning more of being a parent. He smiled to himself. His heart was burning with proud and happiness for Sherlock and Hamish. They were so alike. He noticed it when he picked Hamish the first time. They needed each other, maybe more Sherlock than Hamish, and now things were going to get better. Maybe that’s what Hamish was trying to say at night when he cried. He needed Sherlock instead of John in that moment. He felt relieved. Sherlock and Hamish’s relationship would start growing stronger now, and maybe Hamish’s nightmares would be less after that night.
John looked for the doctor’s number and called it. After a few seconds, it reached the voicemail.
“Good morning, doctor Cornwell” John said in a low tone “It’s John Watson, Hamish’s father. Sorry for calling so early, but I’d like to change our appointment. It would be today. Do you mind if we change for next week? I will be waiting for your reply. Thank you and have a nice day.” He hung up up the phone.
John grabbed a blanket and walked back to the living room quietly. Sherlock didn’t wake up, neither Hamish. He put the blanket on them and looked fondly at Sherlock.
“You will be the best father for him, Sherlock” John whispered “I don’t doubt it.”
He kissed Sherlock’s lips softly and waited for the detective to move, but he didn’t. Instead, he just turned his head to the side and breathed deeply. John smiled to himself and walked to the kitchen to make their breakfast.
