The Pearled Seas - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

For years he had heard tales of the two fins who swan on the surface. They were... Odd. At least that was what he heard. But they still fascinated him. How did they swim? What did they eat? How did they live?

That was how he found himself on the surface, watching... He wasn't sure what it was. It was large and wooden? There were lights and white things. He curled up a bit further on the rock he had perched himself on. He was always worried the brilliant blue of his scales would make the two finners see him. But they only seemed to see what they wanted.

He gasped when the weather started to change, quickly, violently. The wooden... thing... was in shallow water, it wouldn't survive. Especially if it slammed against the rocks. He swallowed and then dove into the water, even as the waves started to grow violent, battering the wooden thing about.

He heard the wood breaking and two finners and things falling into the water.

That's when he saw him. He felt an odd pull towards the two finner. As if it was right.

There was an old tale at home, of soulmates. He had scoffed at it. Ridiculous. But, the pull he was feeling...

He swam towards the two finner, reaching out to grab the man as he was sinking deep into the water.

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[ihadabadday]

"I'm going to go rest." John said softly. He kissed Sherlock's cheek and smiled at the human.

Anymore after he went into the water and returned, he was more exhausted than not. It seemed that the far swims were taking their toll on him.

He was asleep in the large four poster bed. The sheet was pulled over his swelling body, almost highlighting the four month bump that has been expanding slowly as the fourth month faded into the fifth.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock could hardly believe it. It had been several months now since John came back into his life, and with some news that had fundamentally changed his life. He had no idea what to do when it came to having a child. He assumed (hoped?) that John would be able to do it himself (in the water? he had no idea) because there was no way he was going to be able to get a doctor here. A man having a baby was... well in humans it just didn't happen.

They were on their own.

And it scared him. A lot.

He knew that he was scared for John, that he would lose too much blood or something would go wrong. But increasingly, he found himself scared for this child as well. His child.

Their child.

He wanted it to be healthy and grow up strong and he wanted to teach it (hopefully) how to be a good person.

After one swim where John came back exhausted, Sherlock confronted him. "You need to stop looking for treasure,John." He said sternly. I'm concerned that it is hurting you physically, and you need to look after yourself and the baby."

He was finding that as 5 months came up, it was easier to talk about the growing swell of John's belly as a baby.

[ihadabadday]

John looked at Sherlock. He hadn't brought anything back with him this time. He swallowed and shifted a bit, feeling awkward.

"Sherlock..."

He looked down, hugging himself. He didn't know what to do now. The blonde loved swimming and finding things for them.

"I know. But I have to spend time in the water."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock kneeled down and carefully took John in his arms.

"I know you do." He replied softly. "But you don't have to swim long distances to dangerous wrecks. Just stay close by, so you wont exhaust yourself. You have two lives that you are taking care of now. And we don't have a doctor to turn to if there is a problem. We are on our own here."

He kissed John softly. "I worry about you both. I want you both to be safe and healthy. That's may main concern now, until this baby is born. And then, we will take things one day at a time and figure out how to raise a child."

[ihadabadday]

John nodded. He understood. And humans were weird.

He leaned into the embrace and let out a breath. "I'll stay close."

He moved a hand to his belly and stroked his hand over it.

[seaweed_writes]

"Alright." The single word was tender, gentle, loving. Sherlock put his own hand over John's.

"Are you... scared?" He asked, his eyes flitting down to John's softly rounded stomach, and they back up to his eyes. Sherlock had to admit that he was. He had no experience with other children outside his family. He had never expected, or wanted to have children in the past.

And now, all he wanted was for this child, whatever it looked like or acted like, to be healthy and safe.

And loved.