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Sherlock is sitting on the floor of the living room, watching a sleeping Rosie on the sofa. He checks everything in his head once more. The temperature of the room is correct. She’s sleeping in the right position. There are no loud noises. All of her toys are carefully organized on his chair, as they had arranged them before nap time. Everything seems to be okay; just as it was the last three times he checked.
He looks at the clock on the table. John should be back soon. He looks towards the open door as his hands start fidgeting. They should probably talk about preparing the upstairs room for Rosie, now that it’s not being used. She’ll need her own bedroom sooner than later.
He looks at the clock again, nervously, the silence starting to feel quite deafening… Should he make tea? John would like that. He should make some tea.
He gets up, trying not to make a sound, and goes to the kitchen. He realizes then the table is completely covered by his latest experiment. He grimaces. John will not like that, he should clean up. But the metal containers he’s used this time would make a lot of noise, he could wake up Rosie. And where would he put it all? John hates it when he uses the fridge or the cabinets for storing his samples. And if they want to use the upstairs room for Rosie, he shouldn’t start to keep his experiments there.
Sherlock stays there for a moment, looking at the table, then at Rosie, then at the table again, not sure what to do. This is ridiculous. He should just stop and think rationally, but he feels his heart starting to race. He can’t do this. He doesn’t know how to be a father, or a partner. How can John even want him to be that for them? He can’t even take care of Rosie alone for an hour without panicking. He’s not good enough, he never could be. He doesn’t know how to compensate for everything they’ve been through. How could he ever be good enough for them? How could he even begin to-
The sudden sound of the front door opening stops his train of thought. He should try to relax, but he stays there, frozen as he hears John’s steps coming up.
“Hey, I’m back,” John says softly as he enters, seeing Rosie asleep. He comes to the kitchen, passing through Sherlock to leave a grocery bag on the counter.
“I went shopping,” he says, his back turned to Sherlock as he opens the fridge to get everything in, “we were out of milk.”
Sherlock stays there in silence, trying in vain to get his heartbeat under control.
“Honestly,” John continues in a teasing tone, “you could go once in a while, you know. I have no bloody idea where the milk always goes-”
“I can do better,” Sherlock blurts out.
John closes the fridge and turns to him. “What?”
“John, I swear I can do better. I’ll do anything!” he hears himself say in terror as he feels the hopeless torrent of words about to escape him. “I will do everything, John. I’ll buy the milk, I’ll stop doing experiments at home, I’ll read those stupid parenting books, I’ll-”
“Sherlock, what are you even talking about?”
“Just don’t leave, John…”
John stares at him wide eyed for a moment, as if a lightning had just hit him. “... Sherlock.”
“Please,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “not again…”
John feels as if his heart just cracked. He quickly moves towards him, at the other side of the table. “No…” he manages to say, shaking his head. “No, Sherlock… I’m not going anywhere,” he assures.
Sherlock takes a painful step back, embarrassed and not sure he can handle this right now.
“Sorry, I-… That was stupid, I’ll just-”
“No, Sherlock, look at me.” John stops him, grabbing his shoulders gently. “I know things have been… hard, lately. With putting the flat together again and moving in with Rosie and, well… this .” He gestures between them, a bit awkwardly. “I know you’ve been quite stressed and… sort of trying to prove something. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize earlier that it was that bad. But you should really know by now that… I don’t need you to sell me on reasons to want you, okay? I don’t need you to search for some proof that I should .”
Sherlock purses his lips, wanting to protest, but John continues, looking him straight in the eye.
“Just-... You don’t need to convince me, Sherlock… You don’t have to be scared you’re not enough,” he says, frowning at the idea as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “‘Cause, you know… What we’ve got going right now…” he glances briefly over his shoulder at Rosie, napping peacefully on the sofa, and looks back at Sherlock with a soft smile, “is good .”
Sherlock can’t help but to let out a tiny, weak smile at that expression on John’s face.
“You see, I-...” John continues, “I don’t need more reminders of all that’s been broken… Alright?”
Sherlock grimaces slightly at the memory, but John squeezes his shoulders in reassurance, shaking his head.
“I don’t need you to fix what I’d rather forget.” John’s hands caress Sherlock’s arms comfortingly as he sighs heavily. “Just-... let’s clear the slate and start over, okay? Try to quiet the noises in your head.” He smirks fondly at him. “We can’t compete with all that .”
Sherlock sniffs out a soft laugh, looking down, his heartbeat more steady.
“So…” John keeps saying, searching for his eyes again. “What if it’s us, and only… us ? And maybe what came before won’t count or matter anymore. Can we try that…? What if it’s just you , and me , and that’s all that we need it to be? Because honestly, the rest of the world can just fall away.”
John’s eyes look so sure and hopeful that Sherlock can’t help but to smile stupidly back.
“So, what do you say?” John smirks at him.
Sherlock takes a deep breath, then sighs shakily.
“I-... Well, I never thought there’d be someone like you , who would… want me.”
John huffs a laugh, disbelieving. “Well?” He opens his arms, gesturing to himself.
Sherlock smirks slightly. “So, of course, I would give you ten thousand reasons to not let me go.”
John rolls his eyes, a wide grin on his lips. Sherlock takes a second to enjoy that expression, one corner of his mouth raised proudly.
“But if you really… see me,” he continues, more weakly than he would like to, “if you like me… for me and nothing else… Well-... That’s all that I’ve wanted for longer than you could possibly know.”
John smiles sadly at him, taking his hands and squeezing gently.
“So…” Sherlock says, looking down, “maybe it can be us, and only us … We can definitely try that.”
“Just the three of us, against the rest of the world,” John says, eyes thrilled and bold.
Sherlock smiles, looking over John’s shoulder at the little girl that has come to mean so much to him. Perhaps he could do this.
“Maybe it’s not so impossible…” he says, looking back at John. “If only because you’re saying it’s possible.”
John smirks. “Maybe we could just watch the whole world disappear. Sounds good, right? To forget it all, for a little while, until you’re the only one I still know how to see… Just you and me,” he whispers wistfully.
Sherlock feels his chest fill with foolish joy for a moment. He takes John’s face gently in his hands.
“It’ll be us,” he promises in a whisper, “only us… And what came before won’t count anymore. We can try that… You and me… That’s all that we need it to be, right?”
John beams at him. “And the rest of the world falls away…”
“And the rest of the world falls away,” Sherlock echoes, beaming back as he rests his forehead against John’s.
“Only us…”