Here it is! The final chapter! ENJOY :)

OOOOO

When he reached the room again, Mary practically leapt out of the bed. "John!"

"I'm here," he said out of breath from his sprint as he met her open arms. "Please don't ask me to leave again."

"Please don't listen to me next time I do," she replied apologetically.

"Not a chance, don't you worry." He set his hand on her stomach to see if he could feel anything, but all there was were some minor spasms beneath his palm. "What do you need me to do?"

By now, her hair was soaked with sweat and she could barely hold her body up. "My back…" He didn't need any more information. John carefully propped her up and kneaded her lower back best he could in the tight space between her body and the pillows. Mary closed her eyes and, for just a moment, felt the throbbing ease up. It was a brief moment, though. "Oh God, come back, 'round front please, now…" she begged when the stabbing pains hit her stomach again.

He lowered her down gently and took her hand preparedly. "Here we go…look at me, alright. Deep breaths—sorry," he redacted, remembering her pleas for him to stop telling her to breath. John watched with adoration as she soldiered through it, only forgetting to breathe once. "Mary, you're doing fantastic, it's almost over."

"I need to push, John…I really need to push!" she cried, even more desperately than the last time.

"Not yet, not yet….you're nearly through it…only a bit longer." Finally, it ended, and she fell back into the bed. John wiped the towel over her head, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. "Perfect, you've done brilliantly…" he exhaled, as he kissed her hand gently, feeling a bit nauseous now himself.

"Call Dr. Marshall," Mary huffed out through still laboring breaths. "I need to push on the next one."

At those words, John swallowed and nodded obediently with fixed eyes. "Right, yeah, okay…just hang in there, alright…" He went to the door to flag down a nurse. In the chaos of helping Mary through labor, he hadn't really had time to process the simple fact that now, at Mary's request to push, suddenly became so apparent. He was going to become a father...…probably within the hour.

He didn't even hear himself ask the nurse to get Dr. Marshall, nor did he recall how he suddenly was back at Mary's bedside holding her hand and pushing her wet hair away from her forehead. He just froze in an abyss of his own mind.

"John…John," Mary called to him, grabbing him from the daze. "What's wrong?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but then felt a smile spread into his cheeks. "Nothing," he beamed, "nothing at all…It all just kind of sunk in."

Mary smiled too, understanding what he meant completely. It was a nice moment, however short. A second later, Dr. Marshall came into the room, interrupting the grinning couple to have a look at Mary. "10 centimeters," she announced to John and Mary. "You'll be pushing on the next one, sound good?" Mary nodded wholeheartedly as the doctor positioned herself where she needed to be. Before any other instruction could be given, another contraction ripped through Mary and she immediately started pushing with every bit of strength she had left. "You're doing great, Mary, keep it up…seven, eight, that's it, nine, ten…okay, take a rest."

Mary collapsed into John's arms. "I have to do that again?" she whimpered, crushed by the mere thought of it.

"You've been amazing so far, you can do this," John said encouragingly, wiping the sweat from her brow and pushing a kiss onto her reddened forehead. "She's almost here."

"Right, here comes another one," Dr. Marshall said after what seemed like a completely insufficient rest.

"Oh God…" Mary moaned, sitting up to push again.

"Start pushing now, Mary," the doctor directed, "bit harder."

Mary screamed out in pain and strife as she tried to push harder than the last time, if that were even possible. "That's it, almost there now…" John cheered her on, trying to be the supportive and steadfast coach; but, in all honestly, he was terrified to see his wife this way…in so much pain and exerting so much inhuman strength. "One, two, three…"

"Shut up!" Mary shouted, teeth clenched even tighter than her fist was around John's now undoubtedly sprained hand.

"Keep pushing, Mary," Dr. Marshall joined in.

"You shut up too!"

She pushed for a bit longer and then, when the doctor finally gave her the 'okay,' fell back into the bed in debilitating exhaustion. "How is this not over yet?" she rasped, staring up at the ceiling through low eyelids.

John put one hand behind her head and the other reassuringly into her hanging hand. "Just one more big push, that's all you have to do…one more. Also, I am never going to ask you to do anything ever again."

"Don't lie," Mary replied breathlessly, trying to stay in good humor.

"John, hold her up for this one," Dr. Marshall interjected, and John did as he was told. "Okay, Mary, are you ready to push again?"

"Do I have a choice?" she responded, bracing herself.

"Alright, deep breath… one more big push."

Mary pushed and pushed, channeling every moan and scream to strengthen her efforts. John and the doctor were rattling off encouraging words, she was sure, but she couldn't hear any of it. She couldn't see or hear much of anything, until the moment when every bit of pressure crushing her body finally let go. Then, one sound cut through the delirium of physical anguish.

It was her baby.

The wails filled the room, and she was immediately brought back to earth. It was truly unlike anything she'd ever heard. "Here she is!" Doctor Marshall said merrily, cleaning her up a bit and then placing the newborn onto her mother's chest.

"Oh my God…" was all Mary could clumsily gasp through the instant tears flooding her eyes and shaking her voice as she laid eyes on her child for the very first time. "John, look! Look at her…"

He already was, with eyes just as wet and proud and as ecstatic as Mary's. "…wow," he exhaled, stupefied. He gave his new daughter's head a light kiss, planting one on Mary's right after. "She's beautiful…"

"She's perfect," Mary blubbered, kissing her daughter and grabbing John's arm ecstatically.

OOOOO

In the waiting room, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Lestrade were occupying a very restless Sherlock with a game of 20 questions…each of them thinking of a separate item, which he insisted on to make it at least a bit challenging.

"Can it be frozen?" he directed at Molly who shook her head 'no.' Sherlock pondered the fact for a moment, depositing it into a temporary cognitive file folder. "Why hasn't John told us anything yet?!" he suddenly burst. "They must be finished by now."

"Sherlock, the game, dear…" Mrs. Hudson attempted, hoping they could stall him a little longer.

Thankfully, for all involved, quick footsteps dully began to echo behind them and they turned to see John coming their way smiling bigger than any of them had ever seen him smile before. A chorus of questions sprang from the group as they all hopped to their feet in their individual ways.

"Speak, man!" Sherlock anxiously boomed above the rest of them,

"Alright, alright, calm yourselves, we don't want a scene…" John smiled brightly, waiting a moment before sharing the news. "I'm a dad!"

"Oh, that's wonderful! Congratulations!" Mrs. Hudson sang, kissing his cheek and wrapping him in a hug. Greg clapped him on the back and gave his own "congrats, mate!" with Molly following suit with a hug and a "cheers!"

"She's 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and absolutely perfect in every way," he added, still grinning ear to ear.

He looked over to his best friend, and surprisingly found him smiling too. Sherlock held out his hand, and John took it heartily. "Congratulations, John," he said in a tone very few had ever heard him use…it was nearly warm.

John proudly thanked him, and the rest for their remarks. "Now, you can all see her if you want, but try to come in one at a time…Mary's exhausted. I'll let you lot fight over who gets to see her first," he smirked, heading back to his wife and child.

"I can go last, I've got nowhere to be," Molly volunteered, when John had gone.

"Maybe we shouldn't bother the two of them just yet," Mrs. Hudson thought out loud. "We waited this long, I can wait another day. Besides, this should be John and Mary's time with the baby." Lestrade and Molly agreed without hesitation. They had been so excited to see the baby, but after seeing how thrilled John was, it just didn't seem proper.

"Although," Molly added. "Maybe one visitor would be alright…" The three of them looked at the detective who didn't appear to have an opinion one way or the other; although, they knew better.

OOOOO

The door was open, so Sherlock walked right in. Mary was sitting up in the bed, looking completely worn out, with John next her. They were both beaming—no, glowing— at the white bundle she held in her arms. It was, if he ever was to admit that some things in life did indeed have the capacity to be such, the closest thing to beauty he had ever beheld.

The new parents wouldn't have known he was there if he hadn't accidentally crunched an ice chip under his shoe on his way in. "Sherlock," Mary said tiredly, though still shining with joy. "Come over here and meet your niece."

Apprehensively, he went to the bed and had a look at the baby. His initial assessment lasted for a measly three seconds. "Her nose is slightly scrunched," he observed, figuring it was from the birth and would go away in a couple days. "But other than that, she's entirely symmetrical." Mary and John chuckled and gave him a smirk. "Probably one of the best looking babies I've seen…though in fairness to the rest of the population, that number is incredibly small."

"Do you want to hold her?" Mary asked, staring at her daughter lovingly.

"Oh, I wouldn't know the first—"

"Sit over there," Mary commanded, not allowing him to make up an excuse. "John, here take her…" Carefully, she passed the baby to John who even more conscientiously scooted off the hospital bed to stand over the chair right near it.

"Put your arms out, be ready to support her head," John instructed, enjoying the fear of the task at hand on his friend's face. "And no deductions on my daughter."

"If you recall, you didn't know you had a daughter until I deduced it."

"I know, you remind us every day."

Sherlock would have gone on to say why he couldn't just turn it off, but before he could open his mouth the Watson baby was in his arms. It was an entirely foreign experience, but he made sure he was supporting her head at just the right angle, and that her other limbs were secure within the blanket. John stayed close, already settling into his protective father role nicely.

"Isn't she amazing," John mused, leaning back on the bed taking his wife's hand. "Mary did brilliantly."

"I'm sure she did," Sherlock remarked with a genuine smile at the new mother. He stared down at the sleeping baby, thinking about how strange she must have felt going so abruptly from a warm aquatic environment to a cool cotton one. "Have you decided what to call her?"

"We have," Mary answered, tiredly easing back with a smile as she watched Sherlock get to know the baby. "Violet."

"Violet Watson…it suits her." The detective nodded in approval of the name and continued to stare at the new life. "Well, John, you'll be happy to know, based on a quick assessment of the upper lip area and brow structure, that she is most definitely yours."

"Sherlock!" John reacted incredulously, appalled at the implication. Mary just rolled her eyes.

"Paternal anxiety is a common worry among new fathers," Sherlock tried, but simply could not see why his friend was offended. So, he went on with his evaluation of the baby's genes. "She has your eyes, Mary…and John's nose…bit of a mix in the mouth—"

"Yeah, take a break for one second and smile," John said, snapping a picture of Sherlock holding the baby. The detective didn't smile, and ended up looking even more nervous in the photo than he did in real life. "Now there's a nice one for the blog."

"How many pictures of the baby is that, hun?" Mary asked, closing her eyes a bit.

"Only fourteen I think, I'll get more when she wakes up, though…" he said, putting the phone away. He was truly beside himself. Sherlock had never seen him so elated. "Alright, it's daddy's turn again…"

"But I just got her…" The seated man protested.

"Well, technically, so did I," John replied, lifting his baby back into his arms. He stared down at her in awe, wondering how two people so flawed could make something so perfect. He looked over at Mary who was starting to nod off with a smile.

Sherlock saw the look in his friend's eye and stood up slowly. "I think I'll be off…"

"You sure you don't want to stay and start her education in the science of deduction?" John quipped.

The detective smiled. "Tomorrow."

John nodded with a smirk. "Thanks for coming to meet her, and for…everything else."

"Of course."

"Are the others coming in?"

"They thought Mary would want to recover a bit before being bombarded with stupid questions and overdone congratulations." John gave a confused look. "I'm paraphrasing."

"Ah."

"Thanks for being here, Sherlock," Mary said groggily from the bed. "I'm sure you were the one who made John come back in here after I kicked him out."

Sherlock gave her a smile and walked over to whisper something to her. "He's trying to pretend like his hand doesn't hurt, but from what I can see it's broken in at least two places."

Mary smiled back, glancing at John who was oblivious to anything except his new daughter. "It's a sprain. I'm a nurse; I know how to sprain someone."

"I'd have thought that'd be a skill from your previous profession."

She jutted her jaw in a playful glare. "Don't let Mrs. Hudson keep you up too late bringing all those toys and stuffed animals over to ours."

"She wanted it to be a surprise…"

"I heard her mention it last week," Mary said with a shrug. "It's very sweet, though I know it wasn't all her idea." Sherlock didn't confirm or deny it, just tried to lay it off as no big deal. "Thank you…and tomorrow get ready to learn how to change a nappy."

He nodded with one last smile to the new mother. "Goodnight."

John said his goodbyes as well and, when his friend had left, went back to Mary. "Look at her…"

"I know," Mary responded, already staring. "She's amazing."

John looked from his wife to his daughter, and then back to his wife. "You know…after everything that's happened in the past few months…I really didn't picture such a happy ending."

Mary beamed and lovingly fixed the blanket where her baby's arm was beginning to slip out. "It's not an ending, is it…it's a beginning, I'd say."

John nodded in agreement.

They were staring at the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen, and they made it together. All the ugliness each had endured in their lives and all the tribulation they had to come back from in the last few months seemed so trivial now. Silently, they were each making a promise in their heads. Their little girl would never have to see the horrors they had seen. And if the rest of their lives were spent ridding the world of that ugliness and those horrors, then that was alright with them…even exciting.

"I love you, John."

"I love you both."

OOOOO

Thank you so much for reading, it truly means the world :) Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of it all, it'll be so helpful when I get to work on my next story!

Note: Points to any Conan Doyle fans who can guess why the baby is called Violet ;)

Again thank you! You're all lovely :)