Lullaby
Beep. The heart rate monitor softly made a noise. It did nothing to ease the comforts of the six people huddled together in the hospital room. The smallest man in the room looked highly uncomfortable. He was dressed in his favourite, immaculate Westwood suit. His hair was slicked back and he simply looked well groomed. Jim Moriarty hated the hospital. After nearly dying for good a few months prior, he had avoided the places entirely. As had his husband, Sebastian Moran. Now Jim was tucked under Sebastian's arm. Sebastian was easily the largest man in the room. At six-foot-seven, and 90.7 kilos, he was a behemoth. His blonde hair was shaved close on the sides and longer on top. His blue eyes, piercing. The tips of his tiger stripe tattoos were visible on his forearms and neck. He wore his military tags around his neck as a constant reminder of the horrors he had committed. He and Jim had recently gone from the world's most dangerous criminals to some of Scotland Yard's most helpful consulting officers. A detective inspector from the Yard stood beside the couple. He was a stocky man, with short grey hair and vivacious brown eyes. Greg Lestrade was hunched over the bed frame. He stared at the body lying limply on the bed. Beside him was his husband Mycroft Holmes. Tall, pale, and striking grey eyes beneath a shock of auburn hair, Mycroft looked every bit the government official he was. Beside him was his younger brother, Sherlock. The younger Holmes was tall and pale like his brother, but he was thinner and had sharp cheekbones. Penetrating blue-green eyes peeked out from beneath waves of brunette curls. Sherlock's face was impassive. He had never really liked the invalid on the bed. But the way he clutched his fiancée, John Watson's hand told another story. John was short and stocky, but slighter than Greg. He had greying blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Together, the six men kept watch over the lifeless body on the hospital bed. Philip Anderson has been comatose for two weeks. He had been moving in his slumber, so the friends rushed immediately to check on him.
Two weeks prior to the accident, Yarders including Greg, Anderson, and Sargent Sally Donovan had been waiting outside a small house where a known murderer was hiding. Sherlock and Jim had sniffed him out, and now the police were waiting for Sebastian to finish the job. The sniper was the only one who was large enough to get at this particular criminal. Not to mention he was absolutely fearless. But then the killer realized that there were several officers stand outside his door. Then he opened fired and nearly shot Donavan. That's when Anderson, the stupid brave thing he was, ran at the killer. He didn't even reach the door before the killer burst out and dashed Anderson's head on the floor. Sebastian, who had arrived and set up his rifle, put a bullet in the killer's head. Greg called an ambulance for Anderson, and here they were. Anderson needed his skull reconstructed, and the doctors said that if Anderson awoke, there would be no telling of the damage done to his brain.
Beep. Anderson's eyelids fluttered and the group pressed even closer. He moaned as he woke up and immediately, doctors rushed in and began to perform tests. Anderson started to cry. After about a half hour, the doctors stopped the tests and gave the results to the couples.
"He seems to have the mental state of a young child." said the doctor. "And that is something that can't be fixed. He will need constant care for the rest of his life." The doctor left them with that remark, and had the nurses clear the room.
"We have to look after him. His wife left him and he doesn't have any other family." said Greg. Sherlock groaned.
"Couldn't we leave him at a mental institution?" asked Sherlock. Jim nodded.
"I agree. Anderson is annoying." Mycroft rolled his eyes.
"You two are children. Of course we must care for him. I will help you, Gregory." John nodded in agreement.
"Me too, Greg. And Sherlock will give me a hand now and then. Won't you?" John said in his best 'Captain Watson' voice. Sherlock looked down meekly.
"Yes, dear." Sebastian groaned as Sherlock slunk over to John's side.
"Oh, hell. Jim and I will help too. If anything, it's good practice for when we get our baby." Jim nodded grudgingly.
"It's settled then." said Greg "We can discuss how to split our time at dinner tonight." The group nodded. Greg went over to the bed, where Anderson was trembling.
"Hey there, Philip." he brushed a strand of hair out of Anderson's face. "Remember me, mate? It's Greg. We're gonna look after you." Anderson's blue eyes showed clearly his utter confusion. But he nodded. Greg glanced back at his husband and friends. They all nodded. A new chapter had began