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The whole flat is rumbling. It comes from all sides, an invisible noose tightening everything around, entrapping the world and leaving no room for sleep. Everything is noise, unfamiliar and startling. These are unpredictable blows, attacks launched so viciously that they aren’t seen coming.
Eyes wide open, hidden under the duvet, Rosie is on the lookout. She lies, waiting for a moment of silence for her fatigue to finally slip into and bring her back to the blessed unconsciousness of sleep. But another loud tear cuts into the comfortable space of her bedroom, and that’s more than she can bear.
It only takes her a few seconds.
She pushes back the duvet, her bare feet on the ground (no time to put her slippers on, never mind), worried thoughts trailing after her,
“quick, it’s coming
quiet, it’s coming for me”
she opens the door crosses the landing hurtles down the stairs–
/Another tear ripping through the air/
in the middle of the living room she stops jumps covers her ears
deer in the headlights, frozen by fear
then pulls herself together, runs–no, flies–to the door at the end of the hallway, bursts into the bedroom like a fury,
“Daddy! Papa! I’m scared!”
She hops on the bed and grips the sheets, everything she can hold onto: John’s shoulder while he sits up, surprised; Sherlock’s hand coming to find hers and calm her.
“Hey, hey, Sweet Bee, it’s alright, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not! It’s coming to find me!”
John hushes his daughter’s cries, wiping her tears with a gentle thumb, running his other hand in her hair, pushing away the fear out of her.
“Ssh, it’s alright. It’s just the storm. Just the wind and the thunder. It’ll pass. The house is not going to crumble.”
“No, I know that. But… it’s coming for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m scared because it’s here to find me, because… because I did something wrong.”
“What is it that you did, sweetheart? You can tell us.”
Sherlock props himself up on his elbow, watching Rosie with a glint in his eye, half smiling.
“Is it about you breaking one of my test tubes and hiding it away, hoping I wouldn’t notice?”
Rosie lowers her head so as not to catch Sherlock’s eyes. John stares at them, in disbelief.
“What? Rosie, have you been playing with Papa’s equipment?” Then to Sherlock, “I told you to keep this safe away from her!”
“No! Daddy, I didn’t play with it. I was playing with the bouncing ball and it hit it.”
Sherlock chuckles, then takes Rosie’s tiny hands in his.
“Sweet Bee, listen to me. First, there’s no need to hide anything from me as I can deduce it just by looking at you–no, don’t laugh John, you know it’s true. And second, I don’t care about the tube, okay? I have plenty of those anyway.”
“So you’re not mad then?”
Sherlock sits the little girl on his lap and starts tickling her. Rosie rewards him with waves of laughter.
“Of course I’m not! Nor is the sky, by the way. This is just a good old storm, it’s not here to punish you or anything, alright?”
”Alright,” Rosie manages in between two giggles.
John smiles at them with infinite softness. “Okay, but to avoid any further incident, Papa will make sure to put away his stuff once he’s finished with an experiment, right Sherlock?”
John is still smiling, but the look he throws at his husband bears no argument.
“Yes, yes. It’s obvious this ball holds a grudge against my tubes anyway. Better hide them!”
Rosie flashes them a mischievous smile and they all burst into laughter.
“Very good. Now, sweetheart, it’s time to go back to sleep.”
“Okay, but... Can I stay with you, just for tonight?”
John tries his best to keep his this-is-serious face on, “Rosie, remember what we’ve said–“
“Oh, come on, John,” Sherlock groans, looking very amused by the situation. “Can’t we break the rule for one night? I promise this episode isn’t going to question any of your past and future strategical decision regarding our daughter’s education.”
Pursing his lips, John gives it a thought and nods, sighing.
“Okay, okay. Come here, sweetheart.”
As they all shift and settle back down onto the bed, John whispers knowingly into Sherlock’s ear: “You’re a bad influence, Sherlock Holmes. You might have to make it up to me.”
“Please, by all means, I’d be happy to,” Sherlock replies, which earns him a playful nudge on the shoulder.
And that’s how Rosie Watson managed to fall back asleep for the rest of the night, nestled in between her dads, spread out on the bed like a starfish. Needless to say, John and Sherlock didn’t have the best night of their life, but this was nothing compared to the innocent and content smile adorably displayed on their daughter’s face.