John glanced than lowered the phone once more. Checking for a message he might have missed despite his constant hold on the mobile which he had been checking every few minutes for the past twenty.

'Four month's pregnant John.' Sherlock commented from where he laid far too high in his armchair. Resulting in him purposefully ignoring John's anxiety with head lolled over the back of the head rest and eyes shut. 'I'll make point to avoid you when she's actually expecting.'

John glared up from having checked his phone once more. Hearing the screen lock again Sherlock smiled; point proven.

John made a show in shoving the device into his trousers' pocket though his hand still remained tightly clutched around the device.

'I thought you "were always going to be there" for us Sherlock.' John repeated back his best man's speech moving closer to said friend and his own arm chair. 'I thought you were just as excited.' John finished, forcing himself to sit and distract himself in the banter from his mind worrying over what was probably just delayed traffic or the brewing weather.

It was late in the autumn and both days but more notably nights were getting colder. John glanced with thought at the fireplace where wood had been stacked, but the cold was not yet worth the effort of building a fire.

Sherlock slid down from his appeared strained position to sit in the arm chair properly, slapping the chairs' arms and crossing his legs. Accommodating John's sense in joining him to relax in front of the dead fireplace.

'I am excited!' he responded with quick defensive words and a frown that seemed to question how John was managing to misread his emotions.

John was about to explain his words, thinking the childish man had taken his joking seriously but Sherlock's eyes and mouth gained a collaborated look of deviousness. The one a lot more seen since Mary and Sherlock's found alliance and game in gaining up on John.

'Mary and I are very excited,' he defended in fake but serious offence. 'Just yesterday we were discussing how it is in fact you who is ruining the excitement.'

John only sighed in response. Despite the light-heartedness of the view John knew it held some truth. He let go of his grip on the phone still in his pocket to scrub both hands over his face and through his hair. Tiredness and fear were increasingly plaguing him as each week of his wife's pregnancy progressed.

Everything in his world suddenly seemed so much more dangerous. Accidents happened or unplanned events occurred all the time. And risks didn't apply for just Mary and the baby but for him as well. Already cases with Sherlock that could unexpectedly lead to danger had to be decreased. Spending time with his best friend happened in only casual get-togethers or the tamest cases that Sherlock forced himself to take for John's benefit.

Although not the intended aim of the utterance John felt Sherlock maybe hinting at this point in what he just said. It was meant to be an exciting time. To make the whole world risk-free as he was attempting was impossible and yet he still felt as if he was personally failing.

He couldn't protect his girls from everything and as foolish as he knew it to be, it still made him feel unworthy to be a dad. He was only one man, which seemed not enough.

'John!' the shout broke his thoughts and John looked up from where he had zoned out staring into the empty fireplace.

The look on his friends face brought him like a slap back to the present. All the deep worry came flooding back to him and with more depth. 'What's-?'

'Something's wrong.' Sherlock said in a quiet voice and slowly rose to his feet. Head turning to look out the window onto Baker Street. The wind had really picked up and car headlights were already glowing against the greyness that accompanied the dampened air.

All of sudden; action. Step at a time Sherlock removed one sock than two. With increasing pace to the hallway door he had his dressing gown falling from shoulders and buttons of his dress shirt undone.

'Sherlock!' John called and followed the man out to the landing as the shirt was flung onto the stairs. His friend was gaining frantic speed and fingers fiddled with the front of dress pants.

'Sher-?!' the vibrating of John's pocket interrupted his protest. John looked away as he fumbled to retrieve his phone.

Mary

John accepted the call with a flick of his thumb, raising the device to his ear he looked up to see Sherlock gone and a trail of clothes down the stairs to the door.

Shit

'Mary-'

'John!' the tone of her voice made his stomach tumble with the sea of unease that had claimed him all afternoon.

'What is it? What's wrong?' he replied but managed to keep his voice sounding steady and calm. His flatmate just changed into his wolf without warning or sense and his wife was fulfilling his minds worst case scenario.

'I think I'm being followed.'

'Shit.' It was an understated response but all John could at the moment manage.

'Normally I would handle this,' she was panting slightly. 'But with the baby…I don't…'

John began moving down the stairs, picking up the clothes as he went. Still warm.

He bundled them close to comfort his belief that Sherlock's wolf had sensed this and was currently on the hunt for John's wife.

'Where are you?' despite once being an experienced assassin, Mary's breathing could be heard gushing with panic and fear. That had been her old life. This now, was Mary.

'I've managed to lose them for a bit but they have dogs. I-I'm not too far away from Baker street but there's not many about and now I'm down this stupid alley-'

'Where?!' John interrupted.

'Near,' she paused, either glancing at a sign or trying to make a guess. 'Near Melton Street.' There was a pause on the line and both seemed to listen to the other breathe for a few brief seconds. 'John I-'

'Don't move! I'm coming!' he had already retrieved his gun and keys from the flat and was at the front door. 'Ok?! I'm coming Mary, and Sherlock's ahead of me so don't-' the call cut off and John swore looking at the black screen of the dead phone. The battery had already been low but the constant checking throughout the afternoon had been wearing it down more than he realised.

With another curse he threw the useless object on the doormat behind him and slung the door shut. In the time between Sherlock leaving and Mary's call rain had finally began to fall steadily down onto the emptying streets.

Beneath the blackened skies John sprinted over glistening concrete and roads in what he hoped was the right direction. For the first time in his recent life he wished it was he who had the option of four paws.