Sherlock Imagines and Preferences 2

A Father and His Daughter

Long time no see! 

I don't write that often anymore because of my busy schedule, but I really wanted to get a oneshot up for you guys even if I'm not really updating anymore these days.

This particular oneshot is actually four smaller oneshots combined into one!

And just to let you know... it's full of Dad!Lock

This is a long one. Enjoy :) 

<♥>

It's not easy to be a parent. Raising a child to be a responsible adult. Enduring tantrums and tears, the occasional vomit.

It's even harder to be a single parent.

But it is especially hard to be a single parent when you are Sherlock Holmes.

This was exactly the case for - well, you guessed it - Sherlock Holmes.

His daughter? That's you. And with Sherlock Holmes as your father, you had quite the story to tell:

Sleepless Nights

Mrs Hudson quietly pushed open the door and entered the flat. She had a tray with tea and biscuits in her hands to bring to Sherlock, as she always did.

She walked over to the coffee table and put down the tray. She couldn't keep the smile off her face as she took in the sight in front of her.

Sherlock was fast asleep in his chair. His long legs were stretched out over the carpet as his left arm dangled over the side of his black armchair, his fingertips grazing the red carpet beneath him. His other arm was securely wrapped around you as you slept peacefully cuddled up against his chest.

It had been three months now since Sherlock had unexpectedly entered fatherhood. And it had been three months since Sherlock had any amount of decent sleep, which was already rare for him to begin with.

The detective was exhausted.

Becoming a father wasn't as easy as he had predicted it would be. On most nights, you'd keep him awake for hours as your crying wouldn't cease. You screamed and wailed night after night, and the poor detective just couldn't catch a break.

He was often forced to stay with you all night, holding you in his arms in an attempt to soothe you and get you to fall asleep. It worked sometimes, but not frequently enough.

The bags under his eyes were clearly visible. His skin was an even paler shade than usual and his baggy clothes were worn and stained.

Mrs Hudson grabbed the sheets from his bedroom and wrapped them around his form, smiling gently at the man she considered her son.

Her pride was obvious as she beamed at the small bundle he held against his chest. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought that Sherlock would be a father one day. And though it hadn't been planned or expected, her joy could take on the world when she had received the news of the small baby girl that would soon take residence in 221B.

Sherlock groaned softly before groggily opening his eyes. ''Mrs Hudson?'' he slurred sleepily.

''Good morning, dear,'' she chirped. ''Had a good night sleep?''

He groaned again, squeezing his eyelids shut at the invasion of light. ''No.''

She chuckled. ''Well, no one said raising a baby would be easy, Mr 'How hard could parenting possibly be?'.''