Author's Note: Special thanks to a special friend who had a hand in writing this. I've been toying with this idea for a while, Jim and Sherlock as parents. It's both interesting and funny to me. I want to write a big fic about it. I have maaany ideas. -Alex.

'I think our baby is dead. SH'

Sherlock had been left alone with their toddler Isobel that day as Jim was now going back to (discreetly) working his empire.

'...What?!. JM'

'It's not moving. SH'

'What did you do?. JM'

'Nothing. It just rolled over and died. We need a new one. SH'

'Call an ambulance, Sherlock. JM'

'Why? SH'

'Something might be wrong!. JM'

'Fine. I'll call. Meet us at Bart's then. SH'

'Alright. I'll be waiting for you. JM'

Sherlock sat in the waiting room, holding the toddler who was in the same state. They had yet to be seen.

"Sherlock?" Jim called as he walked in, glancing round to look for him

"Here." he said, sighing off.

"Jesus...have they not called to see you yet?"

"No. It's dead I believe."

"She's not dead" Jim rolled his eyes, and called a nurse over.

"Yes sir?"

"Can you let us see a doctor? We don't know what's wrong with our daughter"

"You have to wait to be called.."

"We've been waiting for hours!"

"May we get a casket?" Sherlock asked.

"She's not dead!" James said in exasperation at his idiot of a husband.

"Look at her!" Sherlock said back and held up the limp child, eyes rolled back and mouth open.

Jim actually looked at her in concern. "...Christ"

"She's dead." said Sherlock.

"Is she?" He rose a brow at the nurse. Their baby looked not okay in the least. Was it even still breathing? Shit.

The nursed looked the most concerned out of everyone. "No...god.."

"What?" Jim questioned her.

"She's asleep." the nurse picked up the child and held her to her chest. The shifting caused the baby to give an annoyed grunt. "Exhausted actually. When was the last time she slept?"

Jim rose a brow at Sherlock

Sherlock looked away, frowning.


"Sunday." It was Friday.

"...What?!" Jim cried out in anger.

"It was an experiment!" Sherlock defended as if that made it better. It was actually worse.

Jim was almost enraged. "An experiment?!"

"Yes. It was perfectly safe. I wanted to see the effects on non sleeping based on-"

"On our baby?!"

"She was fine...for the first few days."

"How long has she been like this?!"

"Since yesterday..." He admitted.


"I took her out when you were home, tried everything I could to wake her up."

"She needs rest, obviously!"

"It was for an experiment."

"I don't care!"

The nurse watched the altercation, casting worried glances down at the unconscious baby.

"No more performing experiments on our daughter!'

"Fine." he agreed.

"...Alright" Jim nodded, before turning back to the nurse. Though he still was not at all done yelling at Sherlock for doing this. "What's going to happen then?"

"This is going to be reported.." she said.


"It's for the best interest of the child." There was no doubt the medical woman was questioning both of their sanity's. She seemed absolutely mortified for the child. The nurse held her extra firmly to her chest.

"Sherlock, for god sake, what did you do?!" Jim sighed and muttered out, face in his hands.

"I'm...going to call the police." The nurse carried Isobel off.


Sherlock rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Tedious."

"This is your fault!"

"It's fine."

"No it's not! What if they take her away?!"

"We can get her back."



"...God you better be right"

"I may be "

"You better be"


"I'll be fucking livid. We'll have lost our child!"

"For god was just not sleeping."

"Yes because you never put her to bed!"

"And shook her a bit."


"She's fine. This is an overreaction."

"You're a fucking idiot!"

A doctor came to them. "Will you both come with me?"

Jim sighed, but nodded and followed.

"You're the parents of the little...tired girl?"

"...Yes" Jim answered.

The doctor sat down across from them. "Now...please tell me exactly what happened."

"Sherlock. This is your fault, you fucking tell them.'

Sherlock gave a sniffle. "She won't sleep and we don't know what to do!" he fake cried. "Now she won't wake up...I just want to be a good father!" he sobbed.

Jim was surprised, but just kept a blank but concerned expression. He was briefly reminded that he was indeed married to this insane man and while Jim was no longer psychotic Jim and was perfectly functional James, he was now good deal more sane than Sherlock (sort of). Thank god for having cured his multiple personality disorder. Also fuck Sherlock for experimenting on their fucking baby.

And the doctor believed Sherlock (sort of). "Well she's asleep now.."

Jim voiced overreactive concern. Don't get him wrong, he was completely actually concerned as hell, but they needed to be able to keep their baby in order to help her. "Healthily? Properly asleep?"

"She's exhausted. Just let her sleep. Please. For as long as she needs." the doctor gestured for the nurse to bring over the baby.

Jim nodded "Alright...and what after that? Will she needed any kind of treatment?"

"Just sleep and food to keep her energy up." he diagnosed.

Jim nodded "Right...can we go then?"

"Yes. Don't let this happen again." he gave them a look.

Jim gave a nod, and stood, taking Isobel from the nurse's arms. Isobel was a limp body against his chest, snoring lightly. He held her against him as they exited the hospital.

Sherlock sighed, walking after Jim. "Sorry."

"You should be" He snapped

"She'll be alright, James."

"She'd better be"

"I was bored."

"So you took it out on our child?!" He spun round, livid

"She was the perfect test subject!"

"She's not a fucking test subject! She's our daughter!"


"Don't you dare do this again!"

"I won't. Promise."


Sherlock frowned, staring at the dead looking and drooling baby.

"Call a cab?"

Sherlock walked into the street to do so and Jim waited on the pavement with Isobel, trying to rock her gently. Isobel whined miserably in his arms, curling into his neck.

Jim hushed her. "Shhh, it's okay love. Papa's here...and your daddy is a fucking idiot. I should divorce him."

"No you won't." said Sherlock.