Imagine it being morning, and Mrs. Hudson is coming to bring the boys breakfast.
It’s early, and she expects John and Sherlock to still be asleep.
But, when she gets up to their flat, she sees Sherlock standing in the centre of the living room, swaying slowly. He turns when she enters the room, holding a very small newborn baby with a head of dark hair to his chest.
John is sitting on the sofa, looking up fondly at Sherlock and their child. He doesn’t even look when Mrs. Hudson arrives.
“Hudders, you’re a miracle worker.” Sherlock says softly as not to disturb the dozing infant. “I was just telling John-”
“Complaining to John.” The doctor interjects, Sherlock frowns harmlessly at him.
“I was just saying to John that I was mere moments away from starving to death and leaving him to be a single father.” Sherlock says to Mrs. Hudson, passing the baby off to John gently, then going to kiss Mrs. Hudson’s cheek in thanks for bringing up a meal that smells absolutely incredible.
Sherlock isn’t usually hungry, but he’s been neglecting his needs twofold as he’s been focusing on the baby’s. John hasn’t even been hounding after Sherlock about eating as much because of the baby as well.
“Eat up, boys.” Mrs. Hudson says, and before she can even offer, John is holding a hand up to her.
“No need to take him off our hands.” John says, motioning to the newborn in the crook of his arm. “You’ve been helping us enough. It’s our turn.”
“Quite,” Sherlock agrees, already picking up his plate. “Go relax, Hudders. If tonight is as hellish as the previous, we’re going to be needing you as backup again.” He smiles playfully at her and winks.
Mrs. Hudson giggles and leaves through their flat the way she came, leaving the two new fathers to have their breakfast with their newborn son between them.
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