Description: Omegaverse John. Post Reichenbach where John discovers another surprise after Sherlock's fall. An unexpected surprise, that leaves John struggling with himself. Can he get through this? What will others think of him? What will he do? The title is taken from the Kate Bush song of the same title.
October 6th
"You are doing great!" a doctor called out in the mesh of voices. Everything was in a haze since the drugs kicked in. The machines whined and beeped almost in unison. He felt the cold hands of Harriet, caressing his face. All he could see was her eyes in the long medical clothes. He could still smell the stench of alcohol on her. Normal people would have kicked her out. He was all she had however. The doctors weren't paying attention to her anyway.
His attention was not focused on her for long. The dull pain of being cut open ravaged him. This essentially was triggering all his PTSD from the war again. He thrashed and screamed against the agony. The cries of voices yelled loudly it was a boy. There was a small silence before the loud crying of a small baby that was now his own. Too drugged to even lift his head, the doctors wrapped and cleaned the child quickly before letting him see. The black haired baby was still weeping as their eyes met for the first time.
"Hamish," John's voice quivered.
January 26th
This had to have been the worst day of his own, John thought to himself. He was standing over the grave holding his friend and love of his life. Thousands of thoughts rushed through him like a tidal wave. How he never got to say how much he loved him enough. John felt his heart designate into tiny ashes as he wept. He had been awfully sick this morning. He convinced himself it was the events of the last few days catching with him. He could hardly keep a thing down. He didn't even notice Mrs. Hudson's slight lateness when she reached the grave.
All he could see in his mind was Sherlock. All he could think about was the night before he died. The ravenous love they made to each other before they were both arrested. John would have torn the universe apart to keep Sherlock safe. He felt like a failure being the one alive. Moriarty should have killed him instead. He snapped out of it immediately once he heard Mrs. Hudson's voice.
"Come along John. It's awfully cold. I am sure Sherlock would understand," she said in a calm, polite tone. "He knows you'll be back later," she patted his shoulder. John said nothing as he walked back to the waiting taxi. He was lost in his grief and sorrow as he quietly sat with Mrs. Hudson. His snapped back once Mrs. Hudson spoke up again.
"That wound you got on your head John… you should get that fixed up you know. It doesn't look like it has healed quite well," as she looked out the window.
"Right… right," John replied, not thinking much of it at the time. Why on earth would Mrs. Hudson care about his injuries? She never seemed bothered by all the other ones. Silently, he agreed with her. He had work to do at the clinic tomorrow. It would be easy to get an appointment, being Monday and freed up time from the cancellations from the weekend.
January 27th
Sarah was more than happy to see John back in the clinic. She didn't find it a problem to fit in a time slot for him. She had missed him around, and everyone in close proximity of her could tell. He had lost quite a bit of blood from smacking into the hard concrete pavement. She wanted to make sure his blood levels were okay.
Sarah came back to where John's office was with papers in her hand. Her face was a look of intense shock and sadness. John didn't know what to make of this reaction regarding his blood tests.
"Am I… alright Sarah?" he asked her. She took a deep breath.
"I ran some simple tests on your blood… and you are expecting," she spoke as calm as she could.
"Expecting what?" he asked, puzzled.
"You are expecting a child. That explains maybe some of the morning sickness issues you told me about and..."
"No," were the first words out of his mouth. This clearly was not the news he wanted to be hearing. Sherlock had never thought of protection around John. They both simply didn't think about things like that. John's eyes widened as he remembered something. He had a nasty bout of bronchitis and was taking medication. They simply must have cancelled each other out.
Sarah went on talking about making appointments with her, eating healthier, she went on speaking. John was trying to listen, but she too faded into the background of his thoughts. He was too shocked to comprehend it.
March 3rd
No one outside of Sarah knew about the life growing inside of John. Everyone else only saw the dizzy spells, mood swings, and back pain that he was frequented with. Even all of that didn't distract him from his thoughts of Sherlock. The dreams of watching him fall and the war kept him up many nights. Sarah had to prescribe special sleep medication in order for him to get the proper rest.
Mrs. Hudson would have never even known about it till a card was left on the kitchen table. He had forgotten to get all his mail, his back after work paining him. Mrs. Hudson was cleaning around the house and saw a card with a little baby as an angel with wings. She looked around and studied the card.
"Well isn't that a cute looking drawing," she thought as her eyes led to the words beneath "Congratulations on your precious little angel." Inside it wrote
"We are overjoyed to hear
you are expecting a precious little boy!
Sincerely Sarah."
Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened with a slight smile. Sherlock must have known when he came to see her at his gravesite. Getting John to get a blood test was all his idea. It all made sense now to her. She put everything back in its place as it was. She would know soon enough. At least some joy amidst all of the sadness.
Three years later….
The dusty old attic had been converted to Hamish Sherlock Holmes room. The white ceiling fan quietly turned. The walls were light blue with little bumblebee wallpaper. Complete with pictures of the entire alphabet hanging on the wall. Some stuffed animals were scattered around the now purple carpeted room. He was taking his usual 13:30 nap in his pirate bed. The only way to get him to bed was to convince him it was the only way he could join Captain Hook. He would also get to make people walk the plank if he wore his one piece striped pajamas. Baby Mozart played softly near the make shift dresser. Hamish was wrapped in his blue blanket in dreamland. He didn't hear the soft opening of his little room's door. Nor did he feel the man rocking him lovingly in his arms. Tears ran down the man's face.
"I'm home," he whispered and kissed his son's forehead, placing him back in his little bed. John would be coming home soon.