Work Text:
After the birth, Sherlock confronted Mycroft and, as compensation for sending him on that mission to Newcastle, demanded at least four months without assigned cases so he could be with William during his postpartum recovery, which hadn't gone well in the first few weeks. The elder Holmes, of course, didn't refuse, especially after Albert told him about the whole situation at his brother's house and the insults he'd received from the blond man. Days later, a basket of fruit and newborn clothes arrived at the couple's home, a way of apologizing and congratulating the new parents.
John and Mary's help and guidance were essential for both of them because at times they simply seemed overwhelmed by the number of things they didn't know how to do. Changing her diapers, dressing her properly, rocking her—these were things they hadn't thought about before, and now that they had to do them, they were completely lost.
Luckily for both of them, they managed to cope with the situation remarkably well, despite sleepless nights, dark circles under their eyes, and sometimes a foul mood, but at least they remained unscathed and with enviable optimism. Melody grew week by week, and what had once seemed like just a small bundle of wrinkles and a rather unfriendly expression was now a little thing with sweet, chubby cheeks and big eyes that were slowly taking on their permanent color.
"Mr. Holmes, I heard!" Harrison announced excitedly, handing him the groceries the dark-haired man had requested in a paper bag.
"Huh? What exactly?"
"About the new arrival at your home. Congratulations!"
"Oh, that, thank you," he replied calmly, checking that everything was there.
He didn't seem to have the enthusiasm one would expect from a father who had recently welcomed his first child, but that was far from the truth. He was the happiest man in the world, but the last few weeks of sleepless nights had given him a somewhat disheveled and carefree appearance, like when he lived in 221B with John.
"Ah, I understand perfectly, Mr. Holmes."
"Yes, well, it's not—"
"Unfortunately, a girl. It's a shame we can't choose such things." For the first time that day, Sherlock focused his attention on a conversation with a third party, frowning slightly as he looked up at the mustachioed man.
"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously, wanting to believe that his lack of sleep had played a trick on him.
"Yes, I heard from the Campbells, your neighbors, that your wife—" Another slip of the tongue—"gave birth to a girl. Is that correct?"
"Yes… It's a girl," he replied, wanting to ignore the incorrect sex he had assigned to his partner.
It wasn't the first time Liam had been referred to as "she." Although he never revealed his husband's identity, he always implied he was a "he" whenever asked, due to his wedding ring. It seemed that for everyone else, the mere ability to conceive and give birth automatically made you a woman. He had heard of similar cases with other men who had given birth. These were social problems about which he could do little.
“That’s precisely why I imagine the reluctance. If it had been a boy, I could have taught him the detective trade; he would have been as famous as you.” Winking conspiratorially, Sherlock simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
One thing he was certain of: if he were in his right mind, he probably would have already raised a ruckus against that stupid man.
“The good thing is, since she’s your daughter, she’ll probably receive good marriage proposals. You should make sure to raise her as well as possible so she becomes a proper wife.” He continued babbling as if giving the new father the best advice.
His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, wrinkling it in annoyance. This whole string of nonsense was too much, even for him. But Harrison still didn’t seem to want to stop, believing himself to be an expert on the subject.
“You know, you’re still a young man. If you can’t have a son with your current wife—” Again—“you could file for divorce and find a young woman…”
Enough. There were limits that anyone with a modicum of decency should respect, and this damned idiot here didn't seem to know them, so I'd have to make him understand.
"Stop it, shut your damn mouth," Sherlock snapped, his patience finally exhausted.
"Excuse me?"
"Raise her to be a good wife? Find a young lady? You're talking about my daughter and my marriage, you damned bastard!" He slammed both hands on the wooden counter, attracting the attention of the other customers in the store.
Although he had no desire to cause a scene and fight at that moment, his anger outweighed his lack of energy. He could let them say anything about him, but about Liam? About his baby? No, of course not.
Grabbing the man by the collar, who was now trying to back away, his expression showing some fear, he kept him close, almost pressing his forehead to his own.
"Don't you dare speak of her again, because I swear I'll knock all your teeth out. You know I'm capable of it," he threatened harshly, shaking him loose. He took the pounds from his pocket, tossed them carelessly on the counter, and grabbed his bag.
He didn't say goodbye, didn't look back, he just walked away with a firm, hurried stride, his blood boiling with fury. A torrent of insults and curses escaped his lips, directed at Harrison. He certainly wouldn't be going back to his shop; if he had to walk any further, he would.
Standing in front of his house, he stood there silently for a long time, taking deep breaths to try and clear those absurd thoughts from his mind. He couldn't risk Liam noticing his bad mood and inevitably having to tell him what had happened. With everything going on postpartum and him lack of energy from caring for Melody, the last thing he wanted was to add more absurd worries like this.
Opening the door, he entered quietly, unsure if his daughter was asleep. If he was, it was best to keep the noise to a minimum, as that would mean a little peace for both of them. After passing through the entryway, he went to the kitchen to put away the groceries he had bought. He would take care of putting them away later.
"Sherly?" —He heard behind him, Liam had entered the kitchen with the now well-known creature in his arms, apparently awake.
"Huh? Sorry, I didn't want to announce my arrival out loud, just in case." Smiling slightly, he approached them both to kiss the blond man's forehead. "But I see this little one here isn't planning on going to sleep just yet."
"I'll have to keep trying." Shrugging, he chuckled softly. "Were you able to get everything?"
"Yes, I had what we needed."
"That's good. How is Mr. Harrison? It's been a while since I've seen him."
"Oh, well..." He'd already slipped up by hesitating in his answer, scratching the back of his neck before finally sighing. "I won't be shopping at his store again."
"Why? What happened?"
He really didn't want to tell him, but he couldn't hide the real reasons for much longer. After all, they'd been seen by other customers who, of course, weren't going to keep quiet. Seeing his partner's insistent expression, he lowered his gaze to his little girl and, refraining from touching her since he hadn't disinfected his hands, let out a defeated sigh.
"I threatened him."
"What?"
"He spoke ill of Melody and you too..." Seeking to sit down at one of the breakfast table chairs, William followed suit, waiting for him to continue explaining. "He said it was a shame she wasn't a boy, that we'd have to raise her to be a 'good wife,' tsk, to hell with it." He spat out angrily at the mere memory of what he'd said. Damn old man, he thought.
"Did he really say that?"
" That in the future she'd receive good marriage proposals because she's my daughter. Do you believe that? As if she were just a decorative object." Waving his arm, he took a deep breath and shook his head. "He also implied that I should find another partner if I couldn't have a son with you."
William, surprised by what he was saying, only made a slight grimace and looked at his daughter for a moment.
"That's certainly disappointing. I didn't think Mr. Harrison saw women only for that purpose."
"Ha, like half the old men in this country, they only see girls as objects to procreate with. One thing is clear, Liam, I refuse to let Melody grow up with those ideas."
"But of course not. How could I tell my daughter that her worth is only in getting a good marriage and giving birth to children?" the blond man asked sarcastically, then shook his head. "She can be more than the conservative ideas of this society."
" “To tell you the truth, I would love it if that were the case…” Leaning back in his seat listlessly, he ran both hands over his face.
Women were still certainly underestimated in society. Until a few years ago, Sherlock even believed they didn't have much to offer, but it would clearly be inconsistent of him to wish for his daughter to be more while vestiges of those old ideas of his remained. William, however, never distinguished between men and women in terms of intelligence and abilities; for him, in those aspects, both sexes were similar.
Standing up, he went to the sink to wash his hands properly before drying them and approaching William, intending to pick up Melody, which his partner, of course, allowed.
"To hell with old Harrison," he declared cheerfully, earning a gentle reprimand from the blond for saying such things in front of the child. "Knowing she's your daughter, I have no doubt she'll be brilliant," the dark-haired man said with a smile as he settled her in his arms.
"Well, she's your daughter too. I hope she gets your perceptiveness and talent for observation."
"And not my intelligence?"
"I'd prefer she have mine," the blond replied mockingly, to which Sherlock only burst out laughing.
"We'll see when you grow up whose brilliance you inherited, little princess," he said, now speaking to the child, kissing her forehead briefly, causing her to giggle.
“There's still a long way to go for that, Sherly, enjoy this stage because you'll miss it later.”
“I can’t wait until she’s old enough so we can start experimenting with chemical formulas,” William raised an eyebrow. “With supervision, of course.”
The scarlet-eyed man chuckled before getting up to grab the shopping bag and start emptying it.
“We’ll do it when your father isn’t watching, I promise,” he whispered inches from Melody’s face, who was watching him intently, making small sounds with her lips closed.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Sherlock simply feigned ignorance of this subtle threat.
“What will we do when she’s old enough to marry? I’m telling you right now, I’m not going to accept just any idiot. He has to be worthy of being with her.”
“Oh, Sherly, please, she’s only two months old. I told you to enjoy this stage. Stop thinking about the future.”
Squinting, he began to walk around the kitchen with the baby in his arms, holding his head high as other thoughts crossed his mind.
"What do you want to be when you grow up, Melody? A teacher like your father? Or perhaps a detective like me? I'd love to be able to teach you the science of deduction." Melody seemed to respond with a soft murmur, though in reality they were just classic baby sounds. "Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Perhaps John would like to write about 'The Solved Mysteries of Melody Holmes.' It's a good title, don't you think?"
The baby again emitted a murmur similar to "mh," which Sherlock, of course, interpreted as a response to a nonexistent dialogue he was having at that moment with his daughter.
"Ah, of course, you could also be something else if you wanted. There are many professions out there. You could even be a writer like Watson."
While Sherlock continued "conversing" with his little girl, William tidied everything away, smiling sweetly whenever he turned to look at them. Melody seemed completely captivated by her father's conversation, her eyes barely leaving him. His husband, on the other hand, spoke with enthusiasm, even gesturing with the child in his arms to better express himself.
"Who knows? You could even work for MI6 when we're older; after all, I don't think Louis and Mycroft would turn you down. Oh, speaking of Mycroft, I have to introduce you. He's one of your uncles, and because of him I almost missed your birth." he murmured, feigning sadness.
"Right, speaking of meeting uncles," William interrupted the pleasant conversation between father and daughter with a hint of regret.
"Yes? What's the matter?" he asked, responding to her husband's comment.
"I wanted to invite you all over for tea sometime soon. So you can meet Melody."
"Oh, that's a good idea. What do you say, little one? You certainly have plenty of uncles out there; I'm sure they're eager to meet you."
William smiled, almost moved by the beautiful image Sherlock was unconsciously presenting. Placing his hand on his chest, he sighed lovingly.
"Okay, I'll ask Louis to let the others know the date and time."
Sherlock nodded, and with that matter settled, continued rambling in the kitchen with an amused Melody in his arms.
"Well, now I'd like to tell you about the first time I saw your father. It was on a ship, you know?"
"You're going to tell her that story? I don't think it's quite appropriate."
"Well, I'll leave out the parts that clearly aren't relevant anymore," he announced from behind him. "He was there, elegantly dressed, admiring nothing less than a staircase. Can you believe it? What kind of man would stand admiring a staircase? Your father, of course."
William couldn't help but burst out laughing.
…
"Who's the cutest little girl in the world? Yes~ It's you~" Melody's attention was captivated by the two people admiring her tenderly, responding with soft babble to their interactions.
"Do you have to be so ridiculous?" the older, dark-haired man muttered to his light blue-eyed companion and the woman with glasses, who glared at him.
"You really are a grouch," Moneypenny replied dismissively, turning back to the little girl in a frilly dress that Bond was holding. "Haven't you ever dealt with children?"
"No, luckily."
They both just rolled their eyes and shook their heads. Jack returned to the room with a teapot of hot tea; even though he was the guest, he had volunteered to serve the rest of the group.
Two months had passed since little Melody's birth, and no one dared to intrude on the family until the couple themselves invited them. After all, William needed time to recover and adjust to the new addition to the family, which, as anyone could see, wasn't always easy.
As soon as they received the invitation to an afternoon tea, no one dared refuse; their curiosity and excitement to meet the little girl was palpable.
Although they all went together, each arrived with at least one gift, ranging from dresses to small toys she could use later, as well as accessories like headbands, bows, and tiny shoes.
"Will you say the same when you have your own?" asked the eldest in the room, offering the respective cups of tea.
"Ha, I'm getting old, old man. I don't think I have the patience to raise a brat anymore."
"What a spoilsport," Bond added.
Moran just shrugged and leaned back against one of the living room walls. Maintaining their distance from those who admired the child.
"Well, some children deserve a better father figure," Albert added with a calm smile, which elicited laughter from the others and a distant complaint from Moran.
"And what about you?" Louis asked those present who were questioning him.
"I'm fine just being an uncle," Bond replied without hesitation.
"I agree with James," Herder chimed in.
The same was true for the rest, except for Moneypenny, who hadn't ruled out the idea for the future, Albert, who hadn't said no, and Mycroft, who simply chose not to participate in the conversation.
"So, Melody won't have a playmate?" William asked curiously, then took a sip of tea without taking his eyes off his guests.
“We could be her playmates,” Billy suggested playfully.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow, not taking the idea seriously. He glanced at his daughter in Bond’s arms, and the image of the whole group putting her in situations of dubious legality or safety flashed through his mind. It was certainly hard to believe they could be good playmates, given their history, which he had already witnessed.
“I don’t think that’s going to work…” he muttered, making a face, which made William laugh as he imagined what had gone through his head.
“Come on, Sherly, I think she could learn some valuable lessons.” Sherlock looked at him incredulously. Did he find this so normal?
“You weren’t exactly a shining example of healthy play either,” Mycroft interrupted for the first time. He was aware of the conversation but didn’t have much to add.
Sherlock looked at him with little amusement. It wasn’t the time to play against him, but it seemed his brother had other plans. After all, teasing him was always entertaining.
"I'm curious to know what kind of things he did as a child," William suggested to his brother-in-law.
Mycroft lowered his cup to his lap, searching his memory for a moment for some of his brother's childhood anecdotes.
"Once, he almost set his room on fire trying to find out how flammable his curtains were."
A laugh escaped William's lips, and he stifled it with his hand at the sight of Sherlock's annoyed expression. Sherlock crossed his arms and shrank back in his seat.
"He wanted to see how safe they were in case a candle fell over..." he murmured, glancing off somewhere in the room.
"Or the time he almost poisoned our father playing with his chemical concoctions in the kitchen."
"I said it was an accident!" He retorted, now indignant. "Fine, I admit it, I'm not the best example, and by accepting that I'm going to prevent my daughter from following in my footsteps."
"Oh~ Are you going to poison your dad too?" Bond hummed to the baby, who let out another little giggle.
"Don't give her any ideas!"
Those present burst into laughter at the scene. The blue-haired man, however, could only put a hand to his face, somewhat embarrassed at being the butt of their jokes.
“What if they give her a brother?" Patterson suggested, almost as if it were the practical solution.
Most, if not all, turned to look at the bespectacled man, who now raised an eyebrow with an expression that said, “Isn’t that the simplest thing?” After a few seconds, heads turned to the parents, who remained silent. Their eyes met, and what Sherlock saw as a wonderful idea, William could only quickly dismiss.
“Of course not,” he declared, crossing his arms in a show of refusal.
After a pregnancy and a natural birth, one thing he was certain of: he didn’t want to go through it again, at least not at that moment. Sherlock, knowing it wasn’t the time or place to discuss the matter, simply sighed in defeat and looked at his daughter, still in someone else’s arms.
“Looks like we’ll have to let your uncles be your playmates, little one,” he concluded without much enthusiasm.
William could only give him a light tap on the shoulder in response to his attitude. The dark-haired man let out a sarcastic complaint before laughing.
"She's still little. Let's start thinking about it when she's walking on her own," Louis added, standing up and approaching Bond as soon as he noticed Melody becoming restless in his arms.
He gently picked her up and rocked her for a moment before carefully handing her back to his brother. William whispered his thanks to his younger brother, settling the baby in his arms. Even with her father, Melody remained somewhat restless, and soon her cries filled the room.
"She must be hungry," the blond man informed his partner, who was examining her with his eyes. "I'll go upstairs to the bedroom. I'll be back in a moment." He announced to his guests, standing up with Sherlock's help.
"Are you going to put her to sleep now?" Louis asked curiously.
"I'll go feed her. Whether she falls asleep or not is another matter."
Receiving a nod from Louis, they let the blond man step aside for a moment so he could breastfeed his daughter. The room fell silent for a moment, until the eldest of the Moriarty brothers decided to speak.
"I heard what happened at Mr. Harrison's shop a few days ago," Albert said to Sherlock, placing his cup on the coffee table.
"Oh, that," he replied dismissively.
“Yes, you threatened to hit him because he didn’t give you what you asked for. Are you serious? It’s one thing to have insomnia, but that’s no excuse to take it out on others, Sherly,” Mycroft added.
“What? Is that what they’re saying?” he asked, his tone turning indignant.
“Wasn’t that what happened?”
“No, I mean, I did threaten him.” Everyone in the room looked at him without much enthusiasm, which made him frown. “But not over something as stupid as that. It was worse.”
“Explain yourself,” Louis conceded.
Sherlock took a deep breath before recounting, as accurately as possible, what had happened that morning in Mr. Harrison’s shop. When he finished his story, anger had once again gotten the better of him, and he ended up cursing that damned old man once more.
“We have no complaints about you in that case,” Louis was the first to admit, even with a tone of gratitude for his actions.
Some, like Moran and Jack, even thought it wasn't enough and that he should have hit him. But Sherlock wasn't about to risk ending up at Scotland Yard for assault and adding another worry to Liam's life.
"I never really thought about it properly. Since that day, I certainly can't stop thinking that I don't want Melody to grow up, not in a society where there are still those who will continue to belittle her for being a woman."
"We'll work to fix that," Mycroft announced. "I don't intend to let my niece suffer that kind of treatment in the future."
Moneypenny offered a gentle smile at the gentlemen's reaction. She herself had received similar treatment years ago, before working for Albert, one of the few men who never doubted her or her abilities. She was certain that Melody would never feel belittled or undervalued within this large family.
"It's truly admirable of you, Sherlock. You acted like a real father," Jack acknowledged.
The blue-haired man, narrowing his eyes somewhat embarrassed, shrugged.
"It's the least I could do. I'm not going to let them talk nonsense about her."
Wanting to avoid further discussion, he ended up making a gesture with his hand.
“I understand that women are already admitted to the University of London. Is that correct?” Albert asked Mycroft, shifting the conversation slightly to future matters.
“Yes, a few years ago the Crown granted a supplementary charter to admit women to degree programs,” he confirmed calmly. “Melody could attend without any problems as soon as she’s old enough. I sincerely hope she prefers to follow in William’s footsteps rather than those of her other father.”
Sherlock looked at his brother with an air of offense, although to be honest, he had hoped for the same thing. He preferred his daughter to graduate from university rather than follow in his uncertain footsteps.
“Ah, I wouldn’t be surprised if she excels in whatever subject or career she chooses,” Billy thought aloud, considering who his parents were, both of whom he considered truly intelligent in their own way.
“I have to agree with the headmaster. I hope she follows in Will’s footsteps,” Louis murmured, taking a sip of his tea.
Albert let out a gentle laugh, joined by the rest of those present.
The afternoon continued peacefully in the lively Holmes couple's home. They chatted about trivial matters, reminiscing about anecdotes, recalling shared moments, simply enjoying a pleasant time together after a period where all they could think about were MI6 missions. William came downstairs alone a little while later, without the baby in his arms, a sign that he had finally managed to get her to sleep.
"Let's see how long it lasts," the blond man sighed with relief before taking his seat back on the sofa.
"Does she usually sleep very little?"
"No, on good days she can sleep for hours. Sometimes colic and hunger just make it difficult." He leaned back against the velvet cushions, stretching his somewhat numb arms.
"Unfortunately, good days are few and far between," Sherlock added ruefully, resting his head on his partner's shoulder.
“You can always give her some liquor in a baby bottle,” Moran suggested from the back of the room.
“Are you crazy?” the bespectacled woman retorted indignantly. “How do you think giving hers liquor would help?”
Moran shrugged and thought about it for a moment. He'd heard it somewhere before, on one of his many nights out at the city's bars; he'd heard parents say they resorted to something like that when their children wouldn't stop crying.
“Some parents do it quite often.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s right.” Fred tilted his head, confused by the colonel’s casual suggestion.
Sherlock frowned in doubt. It was true; he’d heard it a long time ago, but it had never crossed his mind that it was “normal.” Social issues also played a role; working-class parents probably resorted to it so they could at least get some rest at night.
“It can’t be safe in the long run. I’d rather keep hearing her crying at night,” he murmured.
“I think so too. Besides, it’s not as tedious as the first few nights. Maybe we’ve gotten used to it,” William said with a calm smile.
“Remember not to leave the girl in Moran’s care, please,” Bond joked, which resulted in everyone nodding in agreement. No one dared to disagree, which caused a look of displeasure on the older, dark-haired man’s face.
“Well, it’s not like she’s safe under her own roof,” Mycroft added, not to defend Moran, but simply to subtly continue taking jabs at Sherlock, which brought an amused smile to William’s face.
“He already hinted that they’d do chemical experiments when she’s old enough.”
"I hope it will be after I turn at least fifteen," Louis chimed in.
“Well…”
“Sherlock.”
“Fine, then until she’s six.”
Louis could only give him a disapproving look; he didn’t find it pleasant to imagine his niece tinkering with chemical inventions that Sherlock could carry out as an amateur.
William found the situation amusing. He didn't deny that it would surely be adorable to see Melody alongside Sherlock, and it was quite obvious that his husband wouldn't risk anything happening to her. But it was also true that ideally, the girl should be old enough to be involved in all of this.
"Pray that girl doesn't turn out like you, Sherly. It'll be your karma." Mycroft, for the first time, raised the corner of his lips in what everyone would call a smile. His personal wish was that his brother would live through the same experiences he had once had when they were young.
Try to hide the candles, Will," Albert played along.
"I'll keep that in mind. I should talk to Mycroft more to find out what other things I should be careful about, so I can start preparing."
"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad. Mycroft's exaggerating."
"The mud you put in your pockets, your bad haircut, your face covered in soot, those curious pets you dragged out of the garden... I could tell you stories all afternoon if I wanted. You've been quite a handful since you started walking."
"What a pain..." the younger blue-haired man muttered, running a hand over his face.
The blond man stifled a laugh in his palm and leaned affectionately against his partner's shoulder.
"I hope Melody is just as curious about the world around her."
“Of course you wouldn’t want your daughter to end up eating dirt, brother,” Louis retorted, with little grace. A burst of laughter echoed through the room at the younger brother’s indignation.
"I wouldn't mind going with her to play in the garden with the flowers and the soil..." Fred added casually.
"Fred!"
Amidst another round of laughter, a familiar cry began to be heard in the background, barely muffled by the walls. William and Sherlock knew it was possible they had been too noisy, or perhaps she hadn't fallen into the deep sleep her father had hoped for. Sherlock placed a hand on the blond man's knee and, with a gentle squeeze, implicitly indicated that he would go upstairs to check on her. Excusing himself from those present, he left the room for a moment to go up to his bedroom.
"At least he turned out to be a good father," Louis murmured as soon as he had the chance.
Albert stifled a laugh along with Billy and Bond. Mycroft could only raise his eyebrows, clearly perplexed by the statement, which he found somewhat amusing.
"I'm surprised too, I have to admit," Bond added to the younger Moriarty. "But I'm happy for him. It suits him well, and you too, of course, Will."
"I don't know if I'm at my best, but thank you, Bond. I apologize again for my appearance."
“Please don’t apologize. The fact that you’ve welcomed us for so long is more than enough.” Shaking his head with both hands to downplay the matter, he smiled tenderly. “The little one is truly beautiful.”
“That’s right, she’s absolutely adorable,” Jack chimed in, looking like a proud grandfather.
“I know. It was worth the wait, so the sleepless nights were worth it too.”
“If you ever need any help, don’t hesitate to ask, Will,” Albert advised, offering his younger brother a supportive look.
“Mr. Albert is right, we’d be delighted to help.” Placing a hand on his chest, Fred offered a smile in which William detected a hint of enthusiasm.
The rest, of course, joined in the same way. For them, being able to help William in any way he could was simply a desire that would never fade.
Not when he had given them such a bright future at the cost of his own happiness.
That is why, no matter what, they would protect that little spark of light that had come into his life to give him what he had ignored for himself for so many years.