Lestrade woke up about two hours later and Claire was called in. She sat by his bed and he gave her a weak smile.
"How you holding up, darling?"
She held his hand and noticed how cold he felt. "Fine. You?"
"I've felt worse."
Claire scoffed a bit. "What could be worse than being shot?"
Lestrade lowered his eyes and Claire stared. He swallowed and paused.
"Darling...I know we never really discussed this, but..."
"What?"
"Your mother."
Claire sighed. "There's a good reason for that."
"I'm sure there are plenty of good reasons. But-"
"Dad," she broke in.
He stopped and noticed her eyes watering. For now, he stopped. His hand held hers tightly and he cleared his throat.
"Did Sherlock and John make it out alright?"
Claire tried to remember. "I saw John coming out of the building with Mrs. Hudson, but I didn't see Sherlock. I think he's alright, though. Mycroft doesn't look-"
"Mycroft?"
"He brought me over. He didn't seen worried about Sherlock, so I can only assume he's alright."
A nurse walked in with a cup of water for Lestrade and he drank. Claire noticed it was getting late and decided to go before she was kicked out.
"Get some rest, love. Don't worry about me," Lestrade said as she kissed his cheek.
"I'll try and be back tomorrow," she promised.
It was dark outside and she sighed as she left the room. She left the room and entered the waiting room to find Mycroft, sitting in a chair. His head was leaned back against the wall and his eyes were closed. He was sleeping.
She shook her head and smiled a bit. A woman appeared in the room and pointed at her. "Are you Claire?"
"Yes, who are you?"
"I was told to bring your car here to the hospital. Sorry it took so long!"
Claire grimaced and followed the woman out of the room. "My car is..here?"
The blonde woman nodded. "Yes, Mr. Holmes asked me to bring it here before he left Baker street."
Claire couldn't help but wonder why Sherlock would be so concerned about her car, but she smiled. "I'll have to thank him. Thank you."
When Claire spotted her car, she hopped in and drove home. As she parked at the apartment, she saw a small notebook on the passenger's seat that she had never seen before. It was lavender with small white flowers printed on it. She held it in both hands and opened it.
Inside was a phone number with a small paragraph beneath it.
A small gift to help you organize things.
If you require any kind of assistance, give me a call.
Holmes
Claire closed the notebook and entered the apartment. As she went to sleep that night, she thought of Sherlock and John. She hoped they were alright and that Mycroft didn't get into too much trouble for sleeping in the waiting room.
The next morning, Claire woke up when she heard the door bell ring. She accidentally rolled off the couch and groaned. Quickly, she tried to fix her hair as she hurried to open the door.