BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: Finds Out He's A Dad

Request for Wandar90

~

You stared in horror at the two pink lines. Then looked at the two other two pink lines. Definitely positive. You couldn't believe it. The doctors had said it was nearly impossible for it to happen. Nearly. After missing your normal for your period, which always stayed right on schedule, you decided that maybe, just maybe, it was possible. Although you and Sherlock hadn't been careful, the chances were still slim. Sherlock.

No no no no no no no no no no no.

He would freak out, you knew that. The two of you had talked, kids were not in the future, not just because of your condition, but because they "slowed down our lives" (his words, not yours). You had always dreamed of having a family since you were little, but after a check up when you were 17, having children was not a likely chance.

He would be home in 20 minutes. You had 20 minutes to wipe the tears from your eyes and act like your whole life hadn't changed in a matter of minutes.

19 minutes now.

You wrapped your tests in toilet paper, stuffing them to the bottom of the trash can, then washed your hands and wet your face, trying to rid your eyes of the red glow.

15 minutes.

You had stayed home all day, your stomach had been feeling out of sorts, so you decided to change into jeans, trying to dismiss the idea that you were sick, because if you were sick Sherlock may connect that to you being pregnant, and that was one thing you did not want him to deduce out of you.

After applying a light coat of makeup, trying to cover up a pregnancy glow (is there even a pregnancy glow? If so, Sherlock would notice), you sat on the couch, smoothed your hair, laid a blanket over you, turned on the telly, and awaited the coming home of your husband Sherlock Holmes.

~

Footsteps echoed up the stairs and you silently prayed that it would be anyone besides a dark curly haired man. Your stomach churned nervously, you played with your fingers under the blanket trying to pay attention to the news on the telly. The door opened, your eyes darted to meet his. He smiled warmly.

"I'm pregnant." Okay so much for trying to hide it. But you couldn't hold it in any longer. You had never been able to hide anything from Sherlock in the 6 years you'd known him; it was both a blessing and a curse. You had averted your eyes from him in the 10 seconds after you told him, and when you looked up, he was still staring right at you, well off to the side a little. You moved side to side to see if his eyes followed you, but they remained glued to the same spot, his mouth shut. Oh great, here we go again. You grabbed your phone from the table, the shock of the news you had just blurted out wearing off now that Sherlock was in the freeze.

"John, he's doing it again. He's in the freeze."
"Yes, it is more important than you asking him to be your best man."
"Well... I told him... That I'm pregnant."
"Yes with a baby John."
"Okay, well what should I do?"
"He doesn't even respond to my skimpy outfits when he's awake and normal."
"Okay I'll try it, thanks, tell Mary the news too and give her my love."

Hanging up, you threw your phone onto the couch and made your way over to him. He didn't move a muscle, just stared off in the distance, probably in his intelligent alien mindpalace trying to dissect this basic human fact.

"Sherlock." No response. You sighed, not wanting to say what you were going to next.

"William." He snapped out of his daze, and glared at you, he hated his first name. After a moment though, his eyes softened and traveled down to your belly.

"There's a child in there?" You nodded, scared what would come out of his mouth next.

"And it's mine?" You nodded again, hope bubbling within, but when you looked up, he was gone.

~

You cried. A lot. For about 3 hours actually. You really screwed it up, who knew if he was coming back. He had disappeared for two years and faked his own death, he could do it again. You dragged yourself to the bedroom, just wanting to lay in the sheets and wrap his smell all around you. After a good 30 minutes of sniffling and listening to your teardrops plop into the sheets, the door to the flat opened. Your eyes widened and you ran to the living room. He stood just inside the door, a shopping bag in his right hand and sheepish grin on his face. Instead of running and hugging him and apologizing for everything, you slapped him. How dare he desert you at a time like this, how dare he think it okay to come back smiling like he didn't just leave you to cry for 3 hours and feel like rubbish. How. Dare. He. You went to slap him again, but he caught your hand in mid air. Damn him and his reflexes.

"I'm ready," he stated.

"Ready to be slapped again? Because that's what's going to happen if you don't leave this flat right now Sherlock Holmes."

"No." He looked at the floor for a second, then looked up and smiled, a genuine smile.

"I'm ready to be a dad."

A/N
100+ reads? Thank you so much readers. Enjoy this one, it's my favorite one I have written so far!