{no no no, why is mary gone? why does everybody leave me? i can't do this again, i won't i won't i won't}

"John. The baby is crying again." [It had been 3 days since she passed; he hadn't left his room, or eaten, or held his child.] "John, I wish I could-" [The baby screamed. Sherlock had researched new born babies like they were a complicated experiment for days, it was all he could do for John.]

"Yes, please cry louder, that will make John want to hold you, I'm sure." [The baby sobbed on Sherlock's shoulder whilst he frantically scoured the internet in his arm chair. He could figure out someone's occupation by their fingernails, but he couldn't stop a baby crying.] "Rocking, tried that, singing, definitely not.. humming, no.." [Why are babies so difficult? What do I like? I like murders, she won't like that, surely. Tea? No, more of a milk person. Come on…] "Dancing!" [Sherlock rose to his feet, clutching the baby firmly to his chest.] "I hope you're a Corelli fan." [A dusty vinyl waited on the deck for Sherlock to turn it on, and a soft purr of violins filled the room.] "Ahh, you like the Baroque era, good choice." [The baby cooed; whilst Sherlock pranced gently around 221B.]

{the baby isn't crying, i bet she looks like her, shes not here, shes supposed to be here, is sherlock playing the violin again? he's laughing, why? i wish i was laughing, i wish mary was here}

"John! Your daughter has an excellent taste in music, I told you all my playing for her would pay off. Thank god I never let you play that dreadful Oasis album." [Sherlock spoke at John's shut door. He wouldn't come out, he never did.]

{i bet she thinks sherlock is her father, im a terrible person, im supposed to be a solider. i have to go out there, i have to see her, i miss mary so much, i miss sherlock, an hour has passed}

[John slowly rose from his bed, his head heavy, his eyes sore. He took a deep breath and opened his door.] "John." [Sherlock stopped immediately. His best friend looked tired and worn. The baby slept soundly against his shoulder] "She looks like you." [Sherlock went to John, and looked at him for a moment. It was the wrong time for comforting words, but he gave him a look of promise and companionship. John understood, he knew, by the way he nodded weakly and swallowed. He passed the baby over.] "The internet says you have to support the head, they have weak neck muscles. How ridiculous." [Sherlock noticed John's lips turn up into a smile in an instant.]

{thank you, sherlock. of course you're my best friend.}