Blog Post

January 5, 2015

As of three hours ago I officially became the proud father of my first son, Henry Watson, six pounds, six ounces. He was born at 2:13 A.M. and he looks like his mother. Mary is doing well. The delivery was brilliant, no complications at all. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have fatherly duties to attend to.

Until next time,

Dr. John Watson

"When did you start treating your blog posts like personal letters?"

John sighed loudly and looked over at Sherlock who was staring intently at him over the top of his laptop. "Exactly, what do you mean by that?"

His face scrunched up slightly before he said, "This is a business blog, not a letter to your fan base. What does your suddenly becoming a father have to do with our business?"

Typical Sherlock. "This blog is personal, because we are our business. The readers need to know that we're not just a corporate machine. That we have lives beyond the cases we solve."

"Why?"

"It helps them connect with us. Why do you think the business took off in the first place?" Sherlocks expression changed and he quickly cut him off. "...and please don't say it's because of deductive reasoning."

Sherlock's expression became neutral.

"The clients learn about us. They feel more comfortable to come and ask for our help." He rolled his eyes when Sherlock's eyes moved from his and back down to the lap top screen.

[-]

Sherlock watched John until he was out of sight. He apparently had to go home and give Mary a break from their child so she could do something or other. He didn't care. What he was currently interested in was the package in front of him. It was a wide card board package which contained his own personal laptop.

He was so tired of hearing John complain about him using his, so he'd remedied that. Sleek design, color black, wide screen, fluid office grade keys, plenty of memory. He quickly hooked the charger up to it and allowed it to begin updating itself. While he waited he sat in his favorite chair and sipped his tea impatiently.

15 Minutes Later...

"Come on," he growled over the rim of his cup. He was on his third cup of tea and he was becoming impatient. How many updates did a new computer need. Really?

10 More Minutes Later...

"Ugh... Finally!" The keys moved as easily as he'd hoped they would. "Office Word," he said as he pulled the program up. Ok, that worked. He clicked the X button and the program vanished.

The plain black homescreen reappeared. He sighed deeply and lowered his head.

"Sherlock."

He lifted his head and glowered. "Mrs. Hudson, please!"

"I heard yelling in here," she said softly. "Is everything alright?"

Without looking at her he said, "I'm fine. Please leave me to my work."

She sounded excited as she asked, "You've caught a new case already?"

"No."

"No?"

"No!"

She huffed and pulling her sweater closer to her body she quickly left the room.

He shook his head in frustration and went back to what he'd previously been doing.

[-]

That night...

Sherlock groaned in his sleep. He was curled up in his bed. The lights were off and the only sound that could be heard was the small whir of the tiny fan he'd clipped to his head board. Lately, he'd found himself growing hot as he slept. His eyes flickered behind his lids and he groaned again.

Blue. Bright white light flashed all around him. It was too wide to be misconstrued as lightening. Blue blue blue. Flash.

Slivers of conversation floated to him.

"No! No cutting. I can handle this." The light was so bright. There was pressure on either side of his arms.

"Please. Just let me handle this."

Silence.

Flash. Pain sliced across the air. A scream. Flash.

"Anna..." The light swirled like a cloud all around.

Sherlock groaned and turned over on his back. "Anna," he mumbled.

"Please," the voice begged. Bright red burst out in all directions and mixed with the bright swirling cloud of light.

The world seemed to closed in on itself and it began to grow dark.

Silence. Nothingness.

[-]

"Hello, John. What are you doing here?" Mrs. Hudson smiled at him. She had been standing in the hallway when John had come in.

He smiled and said, "Mary's enjoying Mommy Time and I thought I'd pop over for a spell. Is Sherlock in?

She looked up at the floor of his flat. "As far as I know." She looked back at him. "It has been strangely quiet, though."

He eyed the stair speculatively. "Well, I'm going to go on up."

"Alright, dear."

The flat was indeed strangely quiet as John made his way inside. "Sherlock?" He peeked his head around the seating room only to find it empty. He moved fully in to the room and then he crossed the room to see that the kitchen was also empty. Sherlocks newest questionable experiment was sitting on the table where it'd been earlier.

He tipped his head slightly and called out Sherlock's name again. "Hmm..." Of all the things that John could have expected to find Sherlock doing it wasn't sleeping in his bed, with the lights off, like a normal person. Upon first spotting him he actually flinched. "Wha..."

Darkness shrowded most of Sherlock's frame, but the light from the hallway made it possible for John to catch his friends expression. His brows were knitted tightly and he was mumbling something unintelligable. Shock immediately turned to amusement as he heard Sherlock clearly say, "Anna." He gently shook him a few times and frowned when he didn't immediately jump up in a heap of flailing arms and legs. "Sherlock..."

"Sherlock!" He finally yelled after a few more unsuccessful tries at shaking him awake.

Sherlock's eyes popped open and his entire body went stiff. It took him a few moments to realize what was going on and when he did he turned angry eyes on John. "Why did you wake me up?" He demanded angrily.

John cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you even sleeping at all?"

"I like sleep. I can sleep when ever I want to." He sat up and quickly crawled off the end of his bed. As soon as his feet his the floor he was crossing the room and John had to hurry to keep up with him.

"I was in the middle of an experiment, John." Sherlock stopped in the seating room and plopped down in the chair in front of laptop that John had never seen before.

John watched him half curious, half confused. "Um... Do you care to elaborate?"

"Sleep. I was sleeping."

He looked away to rein in his frustrations. When he looked back Sherlock's fingers were flying across the keyboard. "Ok. New computer. Sleep. Anything else you want to tell me?"

Silence.

"Right then." He plopped down in his chair and crossed on leg over the other.

[-]

Precisely twenty minutes later...

The sound of Sherlocks voice makes John jump.

"So, in the past few months I've been having these really strange dreams."

John blinked a few times. He cleared his throat before he said, "Ok, and?"

Sherlock roughly ran his fingers through his hair, which made his curls stick out widely. "It was always a little light here and there."

"Light?"

"Yes, light. A bright light. At first it was too bright to see any thing. Slowly, it started to become bareable."

John crossed his arms and studied him carefully.

"At first, I thought it was just a dream. Then something strange happened."

"What are you going on about?"

"The light, John. Something about the light. It was always so conceiling, then it parted. I started to see blue. Once the blue started I started to hear conversation."

"At first it was inaudible. One night it became possible for me to understand what was being said. It's a conversation between a male and a female. Their voices are still shrouded, so it's hard to make out the context of the conversations or what kind of conversation they're actually having."

John shook his head a few times. "Am I going to have to get Lestrade to drug test you?"

Sherlock huffed in frustration. "I'm not on drugs!"

"Would you please calm down."

"I am calm. I'm trying to explain something important and you're dismissing it as some wild fantasy."

"Are you even listening to yourself?"

"Forget it." He flies to his feet and marches to his room.

"Sherlock?" John calls out. He makes a face at the sound of Sherlock's door slamming closed. "What in the bloody hell was that all about?"