Chapter Text
It was a rare day that all three of them were home. The rain was pattering against the side of the building and the television could be faintly heard in the background in the flat.
Odella was trying to rest on the couch but found the two boys inside of her were not yet ready to settle down. John was sitting in his chair, opening the mail that was stacked on the side table. As for Sherlock, well; Mycroft had given him a small case, one that absolutely could not be solved when it was raining outside.
So he had a map spread out on the floor, tracing the alleyways and streets he would take if it were a perfectly not-raining day. There was a steady one sided dialogue coming from where he was sitting and the occasional shuffle of papers.
The rain. The television. The sound of mail being ripped open. Unintelligible rumblings from across the room. The lack of sleep.
Odella wanted to scream.
Taking a deep breath, she tried desperately to keep the feeling of claustrophobia from creeping up her throat.
And then she felt two hands on her stomach.
Opening her eyes, she found Sherlock and John staring down at her, concern on both their faces.
“Odella, are you alright?” Sherlock crouched down beside her so that they were face to face.
She nodded and swallowed. “I- I think so. There were just so many noises and I couldn’t sleep because…”
Odella frowned, noticing the babies had stilled under both the pale and tan hand.
“They’ve stopped moving.” She could feel the boys pressed against the skin, towards John and Sherlock. “Finally.”
She found herself being lifted by her shoulders and feet to allow both men to slip onto the couch. Her head was in Sherlock’s lap, one of his hands still on her stomach, the other running through her hair soothingly. John rested her feet on his thighs and rubbed the socked toes.
The television was changed to a crime show and Odella fell asleep to the sound of the lead detective cuffing the guy she and Sherlock had bet on thirty minutes before.
~
“Damn it, Sherlock. Do you have to wear those pants with that shirt?” Odella was three weeks from being due and now completely confined to bed.
Sherlock looked down at the black trousers he had just pulled on and the silky purple shirt that hung from his shoulders, unbuttoned. “What’s wrong with them?”
Odella just groaned. “The pants make your ass look far too amazing. And the shirt practically screams sex. I mean, you might as well call it the Purple Shirt of Sex.”
“Well, what would you have me wear? Nothing?”
Another groan, “Please, god no. That would be more torture than this!” Odella waved her hand around. “Can’t you wear like a giant paper bag? Oh, who am I kidding, I’d still want to jump your bones in that.”
Sherlock chuckled. “I’d love to help, but I can’t- doctor’s orders.”
“Screw you, Sherlock Holmes.”
“You wish.” And he barely made it out of the bedroom doorway before a bottle of prenatal vitamins came flying after him.
“You missed.” He called back, buttoning up his shirt as he made his way to the kitchen.
A string of insults could be heard from the bedroom and John looked up from the paper as Sherlock walked in.
“You too? I had to change three times before she told me that I just needed to leave. And take all of my ‘arousing’ jumpers with me. Whatever that meant.” John pushed a plate of toast towards the taller man.
“At least your clothing has not been given proper names.”
“Tell that to the Oatmeal Jumper of Seduction.” He gestured down to his own shirt, raising his eyebrows.
Sherlock couldn’t help but laugh until his sides hurt at that.
~
The contractions started in the evening time. They were small and far apart, enough so that Odella found no need to alert John and Sherlock.
They continued into the night, making it impossible to fall asleep. Slightly more intense now, they began leaving fewer and fewer moments of peace in between.
Odella clutched her stomach and pulled her legs up. “John. Sherlock.”
Neither man moved.
“John.” She tried again in the midst of another wave of contractions.
Still nothing.
“JOHN! SHERLOCK!” Odella yelled through gritted teeth.
If Sherlock hadn’t removed all of the weapons from the house, John would have surely pulled his gun.
“What? What is it?”
“I think it’s happening.”
“What’s happening?”
“Really, John?” She grimaced as another contraction passed through her pelvis.
“Oh!” Both men were up, throwing in their clothes in record time. John was hopping into a pair of jeans with his cell phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder.
Sherlock, already dressed, sat Odella up, and put on her socks and shoes before helping her stand. Together, he managed to help her waddle to the top of the stairs.
Once there, she looked down uncertain, shaking her head.
“Right.” Sherlock scooped her up and carried her out the doorway, John behind them with the bag they had prepared weeks before after alerting Mrs. Hudson where they were going.
Luckily, a taxi was headed their way and saw Sherlock’s arm. If he hadn’t, the detective may very well have ran out onto the road.
“In labor. Hospital. Now.” John panted as they settled into the seats.
The driver stared at him confused.
“Not me! Her!”
The tires pealed out as the cab driver realized the urgency. Odella had both men’s hand in each of her own and was squeezing them every three minutes. John kept time.
Every pothole the driver hit made Odella’s nostrils flare, her eyes closed tight against the pain. She could hear John chattering away on his phone, repeating the news at least five different times. Sherlock meanwhile, was offering any comfort he could by running his fingers through her hair, stroking her arm, or rubbing her shoulders. She was grateful for them both.
As the cab pulled up to the hospital, a nurse was there waiting with a wheelchair.
“How much do we owe you?” Sherlock asked the driver while he and John helped Odella out onto the sidewalk.
“Don’t worry about it.” The cabbie waved his hand in dismissal.
“Thank you.” Odella offered the man a small smile before shuffling towards the chair. The closer they got to the hospital’s doors, Odella saw her doctor holding one of them open.
John jogged ahead to relay Odella’s condition to the doctor, leaving Sherlock to face the wrath of Odella’s hand strangling his own every contraction.
Once under the florescent lights of the hospital’s hallway, it could be seen that Odella was having a rough go of it; her face was pale and waxy, and her eyes were unfocused as she tried to focus on managing the pain.
They all filed down the hallway into a room where Odella was helped onto the hospital bed and then undressed to be placed in a gown.
The doctor hmmed and hahed between her legs before nodding. “I’d say you are almost fully dilated. We will start you on a drip and just wait until your water breaks. Shouldn’t be long now.”
He patted her shin, giving the nurse orders to set up an epidural and a saline drip.
Odella just nodded tightly, the doctor’s words muffled by exhaustion and pain.
Finally, after the nurse had placed the epidural at the base of her spine, Odella was able to push back the haziness of pain. Unfortunately, she also managed to grasp what was going on.
“Oh my god! I’m going into labor! I’m going into FUCKING labor!” She scrabbled to sit up, the monitors behind her picking up speed.
“Odella, calm down. Everything is all right,” John tried to soothe her.
“No, everything is NOT all right! I’m about to push two human beings out of me!” Odella started gasping in panic. “Oh god. What if I die?”
She clutched at both men. “Please don’t let me die.”
“Sh. Settle down.”
“Odella. Look at me.” Sherlock squatted to catch her eyes. “You are fine. You are going to give birth to two healthy, beautiful boys, and everything is going to go smoothly.”
“Right. You’re right.” She lay back against the pillows, her chest still rising and falling rapidly but slowly evening out.
John stroked her hair and Sherlock held her hand as she closed her eyes and tried to rest for what little time she had left.
~
“If her water doesn’t break in the next hour, we may have to induce her.” The doctor had stopped by to check up on Odella, who was currently semi-conscious.
John just nodded and thanked the doctor. As he left, he had to skirt around Molly. She came in with Harry by her side, both of them looking relieved when there appeared to be no babies in sight yet.
“Whew, we thought we might have missed it.” John’s sister seemed to have to catch her breath.
“I would have been here sooner but I had I couldn’t leave the morgue until they delivered a body.”
“You made it just in time. She should be going into labor in the next hour, whether naturally or induced.”
“Have we missed it?” Lestrade and Mycroft strode into the room.
“No, you haven’t missed anything.”
“Good. I would not dream of missing the birth of my godchildren.” Mycroft straightened his suit jacket.
“Our godchildren.” Lestrade smiled fondly at his partner.
Sherlock wrinkled his nose at the display but begrudgingly had to admit that his brother and the DI were disgustingly cute together.
“Oh goodness me. We aren’t late are we?” Mrs. Hudson, with curlers still in her hair, came through the doorway with Dr. Matthews and Mrs. Holmes on either arm.
“No.” Everyone in the room chorused.
“Oh, hello everybody.” Odella yawned and sat up, grimacing at the discomfort. “I’m glad you all could make it.”
Greetings of “Hello, love” or “Hi, dearie” were passed around until everyone had had their turn.
Odella just smiled and gave hugs as they filed out into the waiting room at a nurse’s insistence.
“Mrs.- Violet. I’m pleased you came.” Odella held the older woman’s hands in her own.
“I would not miss it for the world, my dear.”
“Dr. Matthews, I wasn’t sure you would make it.” Odella pulled her into a warm hug.
“How could I have stayed away? Besides, I love a good birthing.” Dr. Matthews teased, returning the embrace of her favorite patient. “Butterfield was getting pretty old, anyways. Needed a change of scenery, if only for a night.”
“Try being forced to stay there and then tell me all your troubles.”
~
“John. Go get the nurse.” Odella’s eyes were wide with panic.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I think my water just broke. And I’m pretty sure my boys are not going to wait any longer.”
As John quickly exited the room, Sherlock stood helplessly.
“Is there anything I can do?” he swallowed.
“Switching bodies is out of the question, but just promise me a few things, yeah?”
“Anything.” Sherlock took her hand.
“No matter what, make sure the babies are the main focus. Forget about me, just concentrate on the boys.” She held his gaze until he nodded. “And don’t take anything I say in the next few hours to heart; they probably won’t be very nice.”
She tried to smile but grimaced instead. “Where the hell is John with that damn nurse?!”
“Here we are.” The doctor, nurse, and John arrived. John took his place on the other side of Odella, while the nurse and doctor pulled on their gowns and gloves.
“Your water has broken?” The nurse began arranging Odella on the bed to prepare for the birth.
“No! April Fools!” Odella snapped. “Sorry. Sorry. Yes, it broke about five minutes ago.”
She gripped John’s and Sherlock’s hands as the doctor sat at the end of the bed and pulled up the blanket.
“Looks like we are ready to get this show on the road,” he confirmed.
Odella grit her teeth as a hot flash broke out across her skin. She squeezed the hands that held her own, and tried to hear what the doctor was saying.
“You are going to feel the need to push, but wait until I say, can you do that?”
Odella just tensed in response, resisting the urge to push.
“Okay, slowly start to push. Just a little.”
She groaned with the effort of holding back.
“And again.”
Panting, she pushed as the doctor readjusted her legs.
The minutes ticked by, full of on and off pushing. Sweat had dampened Odella’s hair, and her jaw hurt from clenching her teeth. But she continued to push, only taking a breather to look into two pairs of blue eyes.
“I see a head.” The doctor looked up and smiled.
John stood on his toes as if he could try to sneak a peek.
“John Hamish Watson! If you go down there now, you will never want to go down there again, nor will I let you. Ever!” Odella clamped back down on his hand. “You better hope I even let you near me again, if this is what happens!”
She let out a muffled scream through her lips.
“Come on, Odella. Push.” The doctor crowded closer between her legs.
“Push, Odella.” Sherlock pushed her hair back.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Sherlock Bloody Holmes, or I’ll name both of my children Mycroft!” Despite her words, she continued to cling onto the two men on either side of her.
She steeled herself and gave a large push, crying out. A small squall could be heard over Odella’s panting, rising to the high pitched screech of a newborn.
As soon as she saw the baby laid on her stomach, she let her tears fall, overjoyed with the jerky movements of limbs that have discovered more room. She caught sight of the tuft of dark hair, and nudged Sherlock towards the baby. Their son.
Dazedly, he cut the umbilical cord, amazed at the little hands that reached for his.
John took in the pale skin and dark hair. He should have felt a loss that this was not his son- and the probability of the twin being his was slim- but the only emotion he felt was a fatherly pride.
The nurse whisked the baby away to be cleaned up, and Odella returned to pushing. She was tiring quickly, and although she felt like she could do no more, she had another son to introduce to the world.
With one last, exhausted groan, baby number two saw the light for the first time. She felt her hot tears slide down as she released John’s hand.
“Go.”
He repeated Sherlock’s actions, but instead of pale skin, he found tan. There was no dark hair, just an almost white peach fuzz covering the baby’s head. His little nose was a familiar feature, one found on both Watson siblings.
Odella watched confusion cross both John’s and Sherlock’s faces, but couldn’t seem to find her voice just yet. She looked longingly as her second baby was picked up gently by the nurse and taken out of her sight.
The sounds of the babies’ cries faded in and out, Odella’s exhausted body attempting to rest. She struggled against it, refusing to miss seeing her children before she succumbed to sleep.
The doctor summoned some nurses from the hallway and they bustled in to change the sheets and Odella’s gown. John and Sherlock, meanwhile, stepped out of the room after they each gave Odella a kiss on her feverish forehead.
Everyone in the waiting room stood expectantly, glancing between the two men.
“Their healthy, baby boys. That’s all we know.” John smiled, undeterred by the fact that the father was still unknown.
As both John and a slightly uncomfortable Sherlock exchanged hugs from their friends and family, the doctor came out.
“Mr. Watson, Mr. Holmes. You can come back in.”
Sitting up in a freshly made bed and a clean gown, Odella held two bundles swaddled in blue blankets. Her eyes were wet as she gazed down at her sons, and she broke into a smile when she saw John and Sherlock walk in.
Sniffing once, she looked into four pairs of eyes, her happiness making her glow. “Come hold your sons. Both of you.”
She gently passed a bundle into each man’s arms. “Sherlock, meet William Hamish Holmes. Liam for short.” As she released their son, she wrapped her free hand around his thigh. “And this is Samson Sherrinford Watson. Or Sam.”
Both men looked down at the little boys in awe.
“Their beautiful.” Sherlock ran a finger across Liam’s cheek, amazed at how soft his skin was.
“I don’t understand.” John’s voice was hushed. “Who is the father?”
Odella laughed softly, “You both are.”
“But how?” Sherlock frowned, glancing at each baby, noticing the differences.
“I have never seen it before personally, but I’ve heard of it happening.” The doctor leant against the doorway, his eyebrows raised at Odella’s chart in his hand. “It seems Ms. Wilde had a heteropaternal superfecundation. Or in laymen terms: twins by two different men.”
“Amazing.” The taller man returned to staring lovingly at his son. Liam’s hair was the color of milk chocolate- a mixture of Sherlock’s dark curls and Odella’s mahogany. Pale, skinny limbs were tucked into the blanket, and the faintest hint of high cheekbones could be seen under the chubby baby fat.
“Absolutely brilliant.” John wondered at the blonde, wispy hairs atop Sam’s head, tan skin and cute little button nose.
Odella fell asleep watching John and Sherlock holding their children, completely content for the first time in a long time- maybe even in her entire life.
~
Two Years Later
“Sammy, stop pulling on Liam’s hair.”
“But curly.” Sam tugged at the brown locks. “No like mine.”
Liam made no move to stop his brother, staring at him with the wide, forest green eyes they both shared.
“If you don’t stop, he won’t have any left for you to look at. We don’t want that do we?” Odella untangled Sam’s tiny hands from Liam’s mane.
“Oh, no. Bad.” Sam looked terrified at the thought of his brother losing his hair.
“Right you are, Sammy.” She smiled down at her boys as Sam reached over one last time and patted Liam’s head like a dog. She returned to the books in front of her when she saw Sam and Liam playing on their blanket on the floor.
“When Da home?” Odella looked down to find Liam’s eyes trained on her, his head cocked to the side curiously.
“He will be home soon. He has to finish helping all the sick people, remember? He does that every Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Liam nodded solemnly before breaking out into a screeching giggle as Sam pushed over the block tower he had just stacked.
“What ‘bout Daddy?” Liam recovered from his brother’s distraction.
“He had to go help catch a bad guy. Your Da and Daddy are very good people.”
“Good guys?” Sam became interested in the conversation.
“Yes, they are the good guys.”
“You good guy, Mommy.” Sam’s usually smiling face was serious, and Liam nodded in agreement.
“Well, thank you, my loves. I guess you two aren’t so bad yourselves.” Odella bent down and began tickling the two boys, her laughter mixing with their high pitched giggles.
She allowed them both to climb into her lap after that, each of them awed into silence for a few moments as they looked at the book covered table.
“What that?”
“What this?”
Odella struggled to interpret her textbooks into children terms, but was saved when the door opened.
“DA!” The two boys scrambled off her lap and toddled over to John, who squatted down and wrapped them in his arms.
“How’re my boys?” He gave them kisses on their heads, listening to them babble about their day. While they chattered away, he stood and carried them to Odella. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the mouth, smiling into her lips.
Sam and Liam seemed lost in their dialogue, relating some story between the two of them as twins do.
“How’s the homework going?” John set the boys down as they continued to speak until one of them shrieked and took off towards the blanket again.
Odella shrugged while keeping an eye on the children, “It will be easier when I’m in the lab with Molly tomorrow. I think I just need to physically see it to understand.”
John nodded. “You’re better off than I was in med school, I’ll give you that.”
“That’s because you were busy chasing girls, John Watson,” Odella teased.
“Hey, the ladies loved me.”
“Not as much as I love you.” She pulled on the hem of his jumper to bring him back down her lips for a slightly longer kiss.
“Ew.” Sam and Liam were watching them with their little noses scrunched up tight.
Odella just laughed into John’s neck. Luckily, she was saved once again from explaining something to the boys when the door was opened for a second time.
“DADDY!” It was Sherlock’s turn to be mauled by the two toddlers, his deep laugh sounding when Liam pulled his navy blue scarf around his own neck.
“Catch bad guy?” Sam played with the buttons on Sherlock’s coat.
“I did. Maybe next time you two could help me, hm?” He looked up at Odella mischievously.
“I don’t think so, Sherlock Holmes. Not until they are at least five.”
All three of them made noises of protests, making Odella roll her eyes at John, who just smiled and escaped into the kitchen.
When Sam and Liam heard the fridge open, they perked up before scampering off into the kitchen for milk.
Odella helped Sherlock out of his coat and wrapped him into a soft kiss.
“Is this how you greet everyone who walks into the flat?”
“Only you and Mycroft.” Odella burst out into laughter at Sherlock’s face.
“That is not funny. I think you should return to studying.” He tried to sound serious but really he was always impressed when Odella managed to render him speechless, regardless of how she did so.
“You’re right.” She sighed, looking forlornly at her textbooks for her college classes. “I don’t want to look like a complete idiot when I show up at the morgue tomorrow with no idea of what I’m doing.”
“You will do fine. You are intelligent and Molly will teach you everything she knows. But you better be careful; before you know it, the hospital will be offering you a job instead of just an internship.” He kissed her temple proudly.
Odella just smiled, her heart warm with Sherlock’s praise, and the sounds of the three other boys in the kitchen.
Who knew she could ever have so much and be so happy?