A bed. A monitor. The faint sound of beeping in the background. Shallow, labored breaths came from the bruised, not completely clean figure lying under blue sheets, attached to an ominous amount of wires and monitors. Sherlock had sat in the chair next to the girl on the bed all night, from the moment she was rushed to St. Bart's.
It had been years, but this girl was the only connection, only thing he had left of the only woman he'd ever felt romantic feeling about. She had died in a car crash on her way to work, in the middle of winter upon insisting it was fine and the roads were safe. It was such a short drive from 221B to St. Bart's. That headstrong woman was so insistent on going and getting her job done in the morgue, one slip on thin ice ended it all. That morning had been the last time he would hug and kiss Molly, his Molly. Anna was only two when her mother died, she did not remember anything, but Sherlock did, and this fresh rush of memory and new did nothing good for his sanity.
This was his fault, he thought, if only he'd solved that case faster, Anna wouldn't have thought it was her duty to finish it when she'd solved it faster on her own. The truck hit the taxi she and Hamish Watson rode in together almost head on, Hamish was alright, but Anna was not so lucky. Now , at the delicate age of seventeen, she was in the same danger which stole her mother so quickly away from him.
Tiredly, he lifted his head, looking at his daughter who had grown to look so much like her Molly save the silk black waves of her hair which lay in a tangled mess around her. An addition to his already tear stained face ran Sherlock's cheek. He remembered Mycroft's warning, caring is not an advantage. Oh how he'd tried, but he simply cared so much, loved the amazing things he was able to share with John, Mary, and young Hamish and Anna, as well as even Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. He found he liked caring, and was now feeling the burn of caring too much.
Anna let out a pained gasp and thrashed for a moment, then went still, scarily still. Watching, his beautiful child, the one whom he'd been the first one to hold when she entered life, was now hanging on to it on a threadbare rope ready to fall apart at any time. Sherlock chocked back a sob, he needed to stay strong, for her, for her mother who he was not strong for. He stroked Anna's hair and whispered calming, encouraging words into her ear. This was so unlike him, he did not feel in the least like himself, he knew as a logical fact she could not hear him, yet , he spoke to her anyway. He could feel his nerves wearing thin, he didn't know what to do with himself, all of this….emotion…. at one time was far too much.
Footsteps echoed down the silent hall, a nurse he assumed until the door swung with a soft swish behind him. Sherlock turned, his blood shot, sleepless eyes staring hopelessly at the newcomer; A man with blond, silvering hair and casual clothing topped off with a black jacket, about a foot shorter than Sherlock made his way over cautiously. Sherlock stood up to meet him.
"john-" He tried to say when the man raised a warning hand.
"Its alright" John spread his arms a little, opening himself up warmly.
"John I didn't- I mean- I should have- I love her so much" He stuttered, his voice cracked, along with his posture, and expression as he began to break down for the fourth time since last night. John pulled his best friend into a hug, holding him close after he stood up. The doctor couldn't fathom how broken Sherlock felt, for he knew the detective never took in human contact like this, not even John's. Sherlock wept into John's shoulder, truly wept, which was so out of character for him that it stunned the shorter man. The doctor continued to hold Sherlock, ready to serve him any amount of comfort he needed, for he knew if Anna died tonight, no amount of comfort would help him. John could not imagine what he would do if his son Hamish, Anna's best friend who was a year older, had gotten himself as badly injured. He was indeed thankful that Hamish got out of the taxi with nothing but a broken arm, concussion and black eye.
"Shhhhhh, Sherlock its all right, calm down, she'll be okay"
"Have you seen the damage? You were at the crash" His voice was husky, dry, and barely hanging on as they let go of one another.
"Just, give it time, Anna's a Holmes, she's stronger than you think and will pull through. Don't worry and don't stress yourself so much" john watched him as Sherlock practically collapsed back in his former seated position at Anna's bedside. He glanced about him, then began making his way to the door. "So uh, Hamish is just down the hall still, I should probably-"
"No"
"What?"
"I mean, could you stay? Or, if you need to go see Hamish-" John's face became unreadable, the tone of his best friend's voice simply broke his heart, his son was probably still asleep anyways.
"Yes" He said quietly, placing a reassuring hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "I'll stay with you, with her. But for now, I'm going to get us some breakfast" Sherlock nodded, his half lidded eyes not leaving Anna as he sat forward, resting his chin atop his fingertips as was his habit when thinking. Before John left, he caught sight of Sherlock running a gentle hand through her mussed hair somberly.
The former army doctor came back, handing a plastic take out package of pancakes to his unmoving friend. Sherlock took it mechanically and thanked him. However, instead of removing the fork from the package's side, he set the food on his lap. John looked concerned for him.
"You need to eat something"
"Hmmmm. Yes"
"No, really, actually eat something" Sherlock knitted his eye brows.
"what if…."
"What if what?"
"What if she doesn't live, I can't stand the empty flat, not again"
"And you shouldn't have to, hello Mr. Holmes, I'm doctor Merideth. Anna is due for surgery in a few minutes, we need you to step out. And don't worry, we'll take care of her" A woman with short brown hair tied into a ponytail gestured for the two men to exit the room when a group of three other doctors came in to wheel the bed away. Sherlock glanced over Dr. Merideth skeptically.
He read on her;
Three children, one small two teenagers
A large dog
Lovingly married
Conclusion: Trust worthy
He stepped out, then came back in front of her as she was about to leave down the hall to the surgery.
"What are- what are the chance of her surviving, and do not sugar coat it, I know what exactly what happened" The doctor's expression darkened as she prepared for the initial alarm and panic it would cause the father of the unconscious child.
"So then, of course you know how deeply lodged the metal is. Truthfully, forty percent" Sherlock groaned and ran a hand over his face, then through his hair.
"Its her only choice, alright, just get it over with"
The two had gone to the lobby in order to wait for Anna to be out after checking in on Hamish, who, as they thought, was still asleep due to multiple times of being woken up for concussion checks. Sherlock hadn't touched his food, which left John to carry it with him until at last, the detective took one bite and decided to throw it out.
It appeared that Sherlock was at least attempting sleep as they sat on a long couch together, but John was not sure if he was truly successful. John tried updating his blog, it was natural to do this after a case, but ended up cutting it short as Anna and Hamish's injuries were the end result. He sat thinking for some time, the more he thought, the more worried he became. When Molly died Sherlock had nearly fallen into another vicious stream of drug abuse. Had it not been for the toddler with the pleading brown eyes and curling ebony pig tails with pink bows, he may not have been a detective presently. Now, if that anchor to the real world was dropped, would John be enough this time? He pushed all thoughts of the sort away as he focused his eyes on the restless man beside him. John was taken out of his thoughts completely as a voice broke through the hum of outside traffic and depressing life that buzzed around the hospital.
"Dad dad dad dad!" He turned to see Hamish, hair flying this way and that, black eye, arm in a sling, and quite out of breath as he struggled with the baggy clothes which had been brought to him. The scene would have been comedic had the situation not been what it was. The teen leaned down to his father's level by the couch. "Where. Is. She?" John gently moved Sherlock's feet off the place next to him, sighed, and gestured for his son to sit down. "No she's not…..she couldn't be…" His face was the definition of sinking panic, John figured that his face had been the same as he saw Sherlock jump from the building.
"It's okay, Anna's in operation right now" Hamish looked over at the now definitely sleeping man beside him.
"and Sherlock?"
"Edgy, scared, but he'll be fine once Anna's awake" Hamish put his head in his hands, he too, felt that this was his fault, he told Anna not to intervene on this case but she claimed she knew the answer and wouldn't stay at the flat like their fathers had told them. The girl he had strong feelings for was like this because of his lack of strength to stop her, no, instead he had to follow her like a small child wanting to go and adventure. He wondered if his mother would be angry at him, then decided not to think too much about it.
A half hour of silence and tapping of keys from john ended with a nurse confronting them. Sherlock stirred and looked up tiredly as a the same woman from earlier appeared.
"Mr. Holmes?"
"Yes"
"There are some… complications, it may be a while longer" John hadn't thought his friend's face cold grow any whiter, yet he was again proved wrong. He said nothing, just stared silently out the window at passing cars and people. John and Hamish decided not to mention it, or mention anything at all , they didn't know what to say. Noon was long passed, and John figured Mary was out of work, she was probably worried sick about Hamish and angry at her boss for not letting her go, most likely leaving after pitching her two cents in with extra sass. He smiled at the thought, he loved that woman so, he had no idea how Sherlock managed without Molly.
Six hours. The longest hours the detective thought he'd ever lived through, and that was saying something. Six hours. That was how long it took for a nurse to step into the room where John and Hamish sat, and Sherlock lay, hands folded in deep thought. She came over to stand in front of John.
"Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock sat up suddenly, his curls bouncing with his swiftness.
"That would be me" He said with eagerness and anticipation.
"You're the father of Anna Holmes then?"
"Yes, yes of course"
"Fantastic, Anna is waking now, she is stable and doing much better than we expected. You may see her if you like" His eyes lit up with joy and bursting with emotion again, this time though, hopeful emotion. Judging from his stance which he knew so well, John took hold of Sherlock's wrist to stop him from sprinting like an idiot down the long hall to his child. Sherlock understood, and regaining his calm demeanor he spoke.
"I would"
The three stepped up to the recovery room where it was comfortable, with a small TV at the back of the room as well as a few books of Anna's favorite Mrs. Hudson had brought for her. Seventeen year old Anna Holmes looked about her, almost in a daze it seemed, wondering if her father was anywhere when the raven haired man came into her view. John and Hamish walked in behind him slowly as if asking for permission first.
"Hey there" He said in a near whisper, a shy smile stretching his full lips. The room was nearly identical to the one she'd been in before surgery, naturally Sherlock sat in the chair by the bed. Anna was bruised, covered in bandages, her eyes barely open with bags beneath them, but she looked by far better than she had. She reached out her arms to him, allowing Sherlock to embrace his daughter.
Tears. Happy, miracle soaked tears streamed down his face as the beautiful sense of relief nearly overwhelmed him.
John walked to the other side of the bed and smiled at Sherlock who smiled at him from the other side of Anna's shoulder, for she was quite a slim girl.
"I told you it would turn out alright" He said. His expression changed. "Sherlock, are you, crying again? What's wrong?" He mouthed as to not let the teen still hanging onto him hear.
"It seems so, and nothing" He let go and smiled at Anna gratefully. "Nothing at all"
"Dad?" Anna whispered.
"Yes dear?"
"I'm so, so sorry Dad. I thought I could do it, make you proud. I love you"
"No, I've always been proud of you, you're amazing, fantastic, nothing compares. Just don't scare me like that again"
"Okay. Dad?"
"Yes?"
"I'm feeling a bit peckish, can you grab me lunch? Real lunch, not hospital food, its bland and I already feel terrible" He laughed, her voice was so good to hear.
"Yes" He and John left to grab lunch, or for that matter, dinner, while leaving Hamish and Anna to keep each other company. It felt like hours, even though it more like a half hour, as they sat in awkward, tension filled silence. Hamish fidgeted for a moment before speaking up.
"How are you feeling?" He asked. Anna looked up, the side of her mouth twitching for a second.
"Fine. Yeah. God I'm fine and I've scared my father half to death" He laughed.
"Yeah. I got that. You should've seen him while you were in surgery" Anna smiled, blowing air out of her nose like one would when finding something funny on the web. They looked away from one another ineptly. Anna stared at Hamish while he glanced out the window. Sherlock had taught her some of his skills over the years, and she was certain Sherlock was not the only person scared for her life.
"You?"
"What?"
"Are you okay 'Mish?" Hamish nodded. "Okay, if you're okay, mind handing me my phone?"
"Yeah! I- I mean yeah, sure" In perfect timing, instead of grabbing only the phone, Anna took Hamish's hand with it, guiding him almost hypnotically to his knees where Sherlock's chair was before she moved it over. Anna looked directly at him, brown eyes meeting dark blue.
"Now why would you be so scared for me? Dad I understand, but you?" Hamish stared hard at her, she was like her father in this way, slightly unattached.
"Why do you think? You're my best friend, not only that, your dad is my dad's best friend and former flat mate. We've been inseparable since we were toddlers, it would be… empty you know? "
"No, you were more scared than that. Why?" His face burned red.
"You really don't know?"
"I want to hear you say it"
"Anna I….well, I might.. you see… there's…"Hamish muttered, unable to get the words out.
"Spit it out, come on"
"I may, more or less, have feelings for you that I don't have for other girls"
"Meaning?"
"For god's sake you can be so…so thick!" He said irritably. "Let me spell it out. I. Love. You. Anna Holmes" Anna smiled, bring him in closer to her.
"I thought so, I'm almost never wrong. And by the way, I love you too" Their lips met as Hamish kissed her gently, aware how badly hurt she was.
"It only took you a near death experience and my telling you by force to figure it out though" Hamish said.
"Shut up Watson" Anna said, rolling her eyes and giggling as they kissed once more.
The hallway stretched far ahead as Mary Watson made her way down to the end. She did not care if her husband was a doctor/detective, ever since Molly's passing and now this, she had a growing hate toward these places. Mary looked into the room where the nurse at the desk told her Sherlock Holmes's daughter was staying in.
However, tragedy was not exactly what her vision zeroed in on through the open door. Anna and Hamish, Holmes and Watson children, a strange, but perfect couple it seemed, kissing after she heard but on sentence which sounded like Anna was telling her son to shut up. Mary decided not to disturb them as John and Sherlock came up to the room from behind her.
"Mary-!"
"SHHHHHH! Shut up John!" Mary hissed, then smiled softly, gesturing the two over to see what was going on. "Let them have peace" The two men shared a shocked look, then a silent conversation seemed to pass between them. Sherlock's face flushed as his eyes widened, sending John into a fit of giggles.
"That's my boy" He said through his breathy laughs in attempt to keep quiet. Both Watsons continued to chuckle as the detective stood, dumbfounded. She would be spoken to when they got back to 221B, out of earshot of his friends, despite that maybe he did think it was in the least bit cute. But for now, he rolled his eyes and stood in wonder at the scene taking place before him.
He truly was happy, she had an angel watching over her he thought, then rethought it, he didn't believe in that stuff, or did he? A beautiful sight this was, if only her mother could see this he thought, she would love the happy ending, and the sweet rarity of a moment this was.
