AN: Trigger Warning for miscarriage
Because this is such a heavy chapter, I'm giving you two today! The next one will be much happier, without a single drop of angst, I promise! :)
It was the calm after the storm.
After all the noise, chaos, screeching tyres, burning rubber… the silence was crushing as reality settled and shock faded.
It was to this quiet, solemn world that Molly slowly woke. Her entire body ached and the acrid smell of hospital filled her nose. The beeping of a heart monitor grew louder as the fringes of sleep dissipated.
She noticed an odd pressure along her right side and she turned her head to find her husband curled around her on the hospital bed. Sherlock's legs were dangling over the side and even in sleep, he was careful not to touch her. His curls were completely frizzed and dark circles marred his beautiful face.
Molly lifted her hand to reach over and touch his face, but didn't have the energy. Instead, as had become second-nature the past four months, she let her hand fall to rest on her stomach.
Her heart stopped.
Instead of the small, but firm, bump, her stomach was lower, soft, and covered in bandages.
No no no no no...
Tears of panic filled her eyes and the heart rate monitor kicked up in answer to her racing heart.
Her hand spasmed against the thin bedsheet and she clenched the fabric.
This wasn't happening, it was just a mistake, the shock messing with her mind…
'Molly?'
The beloved voice, hoarse and rough, pierced through the panic. She turned to look at Sherlock and seeing the sorrow in his own eyes brought reality crashing down around her.
'No,' she whispered, a tear escaping.
His lips trembled as he gently slipped his arm under her and pulled her against his chest. She buried her face in his chest and her mouth opened in a silent cry, the pain of their loss greater than the aches in her body. Sherlock's body shook and he covered his mouth with his free hand as his tears gave way to sobs.
Two years later
Sherlock took the stairs up to 221B two at a time. His heart was racing from the single, vague text Molly had sent him twenty minutes earlier.
Please come home.
His replies had gone unanswered and she wouldn't pick up when he called as he raced home from his Sunday afternoon jousting game with Mycroft.
'Molly?' He burst into the lounge, panting. There was no sign of a struggle, no sign of danger, nothing indicating anything was wrong.
He ran through the empty kitchen and into their bedroom. The bathroom door was open and as he rounded the bed, he saw Molly leaning against the tub, her arms around her legs and her head buried in her knees.
'Molly!' He rushed to her side and knelt beside her, looking her over for injuries. 'Molly, what's happened?'
Slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes were red and wet, her face a ghastly pale. Leaning to her other side, she picked something off the floor. She sniffled and held it in front of her.
Sherlock's heart nearly stopped.
A pregnancy test.
'I'm pregnant,' she whispered.
Sherlock stared at the blue cross, then slumped against the tub in disbelief. 'You're pregnant…'
Her lips trembled as she brushed the tears from her cheeks. 'I just felt a bit off lately. I didn't think…'
Sherlock couldn't speak.
'We never discussed trying for another…' She was beginning to panic, her breath coming in rapid gasps. 'I don't think I'm ready for this again...' Her broken whisper tore his heart in two.
'Come here,' he said soothingly and, stretching his legs out, he pulled her into the circle of his embrace and wrapped his arms around her middle. She trembled as he rested his head atop hers, taking deep breaths, so his chest pressed against her back.
Her trembling gradually slowed and her breathing synced with his. Her hand reached up to clutch the pendant resting on her chest, a gold Gladiolus flower. He'd given it to her a few months after the accident. They were both in the deepest depth of mourning, unsure of how to move on; not wanting to live in the what-ifs but not wanting to forget what they had lost. When Sherlock had given Molly the pendant, he had held her close and whispered its meaning in her ear.
Remembrance.
That night had been the first step for both of them to begin healing.
And now they were expecting again. After everything, he hadn't considered another baby. Fear and joy wrestled in his heart and he was torn. But Molly needed him to be her rock. He could see the hesitant happiness in how she absentmindedly stroked her stomach.
'This baby can't replace the one we lost…' Sherlock's voice broke and he paused for a moment, tears filling his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat and continued. 'And I will never expect him to.'
Molly sniffled and there was the hint of a smile in her voice as she said, 'Him?'
'Or her,' Sherlock amended softly.
Molly's hand drifted over the flower and she leaned her head back against his shoulder.
'But I will love him, or her, just as much.' He whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
'Yeah?'
He kissed her temple and smiled. 'Yeah.'
Tears of happiness filled her eyes and she tilted her head back to look at him. 'We're having a baby.'
Cupping her cheek, Sherlock kissed her tenderly. 'Yes, we are.'
