Shelley Homes had never found herself in this amount of pain, even when she was in the middle of withdrawals. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and she was glad that she had tied her hair up, she'd have hated to get it wet.

She collapsed back onto her back, laid out in her bed in the Holmes mansion. Her breathing was erratic as a contraction ran through her body every thirty seconds. She knew it wasn't long now, and she knew that she should call Mycroft, or John. But she couldn't. She felt too weak to even sit up; she couldn't reach her phone to call either of them, and she felt like she was about to pass out.

A urge to push was pulling at her, but she knew that it was bad to push if the baby wasn't ready or if she wasn't fully dilated. She gripped at the bed sheets that were strewn over her, and she looked out of the window out of heavy lidded eyes for a moment before throwing her head back onto the pillow and arching her back again as the pain assaulted her. She had a seconds respite before it was back. The urge to push came again, and before she could stop herself, she screamed.

XXX

Mycroft Holmes jerked awake. He blinked out of his sleep induced stupor, and rolled over onto his back. What had woke him up?

He heard a scream, and he was on his feet running before he even had time to think.

He burst into his younger sister's bedroom to see her whimpering into her pillows, her quilt tangled around her body and scrunched up into her fists, her chest and stomach were heaving with her breath and a few tears leaked out of the corner of her closed eyes.

He rushed to his sister's side, and pulled her hand into his as he leant next to her. 'Shelley...' he murmured, and his sister rolled her head so that she was facing him, 'My...Mycroft.'

'Yeah.' He said, wincing as Shelley squeezed his hand as a contraction flowed though her body.

'How long have you been in labour Shelley?' Mycroft asked firmly.

His sister shook her head, 'I don't know! The pain woke me up.'

Her breathing hitched again and she hissed through clenched teeth. 'They're close together. The baby is nearly here.'

Mycroft gripped her hand and moved down to the end of the bed, 'I'll check on the progress.'

'No!' she cried. 'You can't! No.'

'Shelley.' Mycroft said firmly. 'Somebody has to check the progress and we're the only ones in this house!'

'Please Mycroft.' She cried. 'I don't have the energy to argue with you. Just please. Don't look down there.'

'You're going to gamble with your child's life.' Mycroft stated angrily.

She shook her head. 'No!'

'Then let me check!' Mycroft argued.

She closed her eyes, and tried to breathe as normally as possible. Then whispered slowly, 'Ok.'

A few minutes later, Mycroft popped his head back up and said encouragingly, 'You can push Shelley, the baby is almost here.'

She nodded, struggling, and strained to push the baby out.

'The head is out Shelley!' Mycroft called, 'You just need to push again!'

She whimpered, pain rolling though the bottom of her stomach before pushing again.

'Nearly there.' Mycroft called, 'Can you do that again Shelley?'

She pushed, arching up of the bed to reach her knees, and the baby was pushed out with a scream from both mother and child.

'Shelley!' Mycroft said, cutting the cord and cleaning the baby. 'You've got a boy.'

She nodded, her eyesight fading.

Mycroft turned towards her, and placed the baby in her arms. 'What are you going to call him?'

She breathed shallowly and said quietly, 'Alexander. Alexander Anthony Holmes.'

Mycroft nodded. 'they've got good meanings.'

She nodded, and passed her son back to her brother, and whispered, 'I don't feel too good.' Before passing out surrounded by blood.

XXX

Shelley slowly regained consciousness. Using her sense of smell before opening her eyes, she figured out that she was in a hospital, she was attached to a heart monitor, and her brother was in the room with her.

She opened her eyes, and was met by the dull off white colour of the ceiling. Turning her head to the side, she saw her brother, holding her child. 'Mycroft.'

He looked up at her, and his expression was one of being caught like a rabbit in headlights. 'Shelley. How do you feel?'

She blinked, and raised her hand, shaking it slightly.

Mycroft nodded, and stood up and moved closer to her. 'This is your son. Alexander Anthony Holmes.'

She nodded, and smiled at her brother genuinely before cuddling her son to her chest slightly.

'What happened to me?' she asked Mycroft once he was sitting down, and Alexander was nestled comfortably.

'You were haemorrhaging.' Mycroft stated emotionlessly. 'They only just saved you.'

She nodded. 'That explains the weak feeling. Blood loss.'

He nodded.

'How long have I been here for?' She asked while staring at her son's closed eyelids.

'Four days.' Mycroft said, 'Now you are awake, you should be able to get out in the next few days.'

She nodded, and resumed looking at her son.

XXX

The next time she woke up, John was there. He was asleep in her visitors chair, and he had a slight amount of drool at the corner of his mouth.

'John.' She called, trying to wake him up.

He tried to roll over, and she laughed as he fell off of the chair. His head shot up at the sound of her laughter, and smiled upon seeing her awake.

'Shelley.' He greeted warmly, standing up and sitting on the chair.

'John. You're back.' She stated, she was still feeling tired out.

'Yeah, it was quite fun being with old friends.' He said, 'I can't believe you got into all this trouble the two nights that I wasn't here.'

'It's the baby's fault this time,' Shelley laughed, 'You can't blame me.'

He laughed, and they carried on talking.

XXX

She was aloud out of the hospital three day after she woke up, and Mycroft made her stay at the Holmes mansion for a while, 'to make sure that she was really okay.'

She woke up, three weeks after she was discharged, to find a man sitting on the end of her bed.

'Hello.' She greeted, yawning slightly.

The man grinned, showing off a set of pearly white teeth.

She shook her head, and sat up.

The man leaned over to kiss her, and she pulled on his jacket to bring him closer to her.

He pulled back and laughed. She frowned at him, and he said, 'You've just had a baby and you want another one?'

She shook her head, and smiled at the man.

'How are you Shell?' He asked.

'Better for seeing you.' She said, 'Your son is waiting to see you.'

He stood up, and held his arm out for her to grab onto. Doing so, he whispered in her ear, 'Let's go see him then shall we?'

She giggled and led him to the shared nursery room that was attached to her room via two double doors.

XXX

His child was beautiful. That was all that was running through his mind. It had his dark hair, and his mother's grey eyes. His facial structure was completely Shelley, and the hair was all that the baby had of him.

Shelley and Mycroft had decorated the room in deep purple. All the walls were the same deep purple, while the window ledges and the squares around the window were painted in the most neutral pale yellow. He decided that Shelley must have done this, because her fashion and colour tastes were impeccable.

All that his child would need was in the room. There was nothing that he could get that the baby would need in the immediate future. His thoughts were broken as his child's mother hugged him from behind. Her head rested just below his shoulder blade, and he held her hands on his abdomen.

Their son chose that moment to start grizzling.

XXX

'Why did you choose Alexander Anthony?' he asked later, when they were sitting in the child's nursery, on the two rocking chairs.

She looked at him tiredly, and said, 'I named him that for you. You always were a lover of the Greek names. Alexander means Protector of Mankind, and Anthony means Worthy of Praise.'

'And he is.' He agreed.

She nodded, closing her eyes. He noticed that her blinks were getting longer by the second, and he picked her up bridal style, and walked her into her own bedroom, and laid her out on her own bed.

He moved the blankets and the quilt around her small frame, and tucked her in. He smiled at her lovingly and sadly, before leaving the room behind, bathed in deep oranges and blues and reds.

He knew that he'd seen them again soon.

It was time for the game to begin.