A/N this takes place after The Six Thatchers, so if you haven't seen the new season be aware of minor spoilers. TRIGGER WARNING!!!! references to self-harm. I thought this would be cute and I ran with it. I love the thought of Parentlock. Enjoy!!!! <3
"John!" I could hear the frustration in my boyfriend's voice as I wrapped a towel around my waist and stumbled out of the bathroom. I had just finished my shower and I could feel water dripping along my back as I made my way out to the living room. The sight I stumbled upon was hilarious and I couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled from my lips. Sherlock was kneeling on the floor, defeat on his face and vomit staining the front of his shirt. I could see Rosie on the floor in front of him, chewing innocently on her favorite rattle and looking pleased with the havoc she had wreaked on her God Father. Sherlock threw a glare in my direction, but it didn't last long. His expression quickly faded from frustration to awe as he looked at me. I couldn't figure out what was wrong and I glanced down. There wasn't anything off so I looked back at him slightly confused.
"What's wrong, love?" I asked, walking towards the pair, stepping over the various toys on the floor. My voice seemed to snap Sherlock out of whatever state he was in and he moved his glare to the child that was writhing on the floor.
"She won't let me change her." He sounded exasperated and it was then I noticed the clean diaper in his hand. "She keeps squirming and kicking and I don't want to hurt her, but she needs changing. I tried to explain to her that if she doesn't let me put a clean diaper on her, the discomfort will only worsen and lead to rash and other potential health issues-" I knelt beside the frustrated man and grabbed his hands. He stopped talking and looked helplessly at me; there were tears in his eyes. I reached for his cheek and he nuzzled into my palm. I felt every fiber of my being swell with love for the man sitting next to me. He cared for my daughter so much, even if she represented the woman that kept us apart. I smiled softly and kissed his nose. His cheeks flushed and he looked back to Rosie, smiling as his eyes landed on her.
"She is just a baby Sherlock, she won't understand reason." I chuckled as I grabbed the clean diaper and adjusted Rosie so she was parked in front of me. He was right, she was squirming more than usual.
"But surely she can feel how uncomfortable it is?"
"That is why she is being difficult."
"That makes no sense." I laughed as I secured the clean diaper on my child's hips.
"There, all better. Now, apologize to your Uncle." I pinched her nose and handed her back to Sherlock, who accepted her happily, grinning at her and kissing her cheek. She let out a belt of laughter, causing Sherlock to laugh as well. I never would have thought Sherlock would be as good with Rosie as he is. I stood and started to head back to the bathroom. As I threw on my clothes, I looked in the mirror and realized what Sherlock must have been so freaked out about. My scars, lining my forearms and rib cage, stood out harsh and pink against my skin. I always made sure to keep them hidden, even when we were intimate. I always insisted on keeping the lights off, and had put off showering together. I jumped when I felt hands sliding along my ribs. I leaned back into my boyfriend's embrace, feeling him press light kisses along my neck.
"Where is Rosie?"
"I put her down for her nap." He continued pressing kisses along my neck and shoulders. I felt his fingers brushing over my ribs, tracing the patterns of the raised scars. Shame filled my being and darkened my cheeks. I reached for my shirt and tried to pull it on; hoping Sherlock would let this go. He knocked the shirt out of my hands and spun me around, pinning me to the counter. There was sharpness in his eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. But there was also softness; a look that he kept reserved for me and Rosie.
