"She’ll start calling you Mother. I can’t really stop her." He murmurs, climbing into the bed with her and position them both so she can hear his heart beat while he keeps her warm.
Pressing a kiss to her temple, he whispers her name, “Sherlock. Promise me. Please. So I sleep better at night.”
"She needs to stop…" Sherlock pressed again, shaking her head. "I’m no role model, and that’s what a mother should be—" she hissed, turning her face against him and closing her eyes to listen. "I promise to come and talk to you—" she mumbled. "Now would you be quiet, I have a headache…" she grumbled as she settled her head on his chest and took a deep breath that made her sides ache.
He gently runs his fingers through her hair, silencing himself from saying anything more.
John simply breathes and exists while Sherlock listens.
His hand shifts to massage her back lightly, being as gentle as he can.