A/N Hey you guys! Here is the last chapter for you. Although, since I love you all so much and am so grateful that you read this story, it's NOT the last chapter! There is going to be an epilogue chapter up after this one, small though it may be, so don't be sad yet!

Chapter 9

Sherlock awoke the next morning the exact same way he had fallen asleep; laying on the couch with John, wrapped in his blanket and his bear within his hold, in his arms. He hadn't even bothered to put John back in his crib, he just wanted to ensure the child's safety. He kissed John's temple before setting him gently in his crib, making sure he was comfortable before walking to the kitchen to make himself a piece of toast. It wasn't until he put the bread in the toaster that he remembered what today was. Sherlock looked at the clock to find that it was ten o'clock in the morning, he only had two hours before he got his best friend back.

Sherlock smiled to himself. Cases had gotten so dull without John running beside him. Not that he had really taken any the past week, but because none of them deemed worthy without John. It all seemed so… lifeless, so to speak.

John awoke to find that Sherlock wasn't anywhere to be seen, so he started to whimper, and then started to cry. Sherlock, whom had been in the shower, heard the distressed cry, shut the water off, and threw on his dressing gown before walking out to the toddler. At least he had waited until Sherlock was done showering to start crying. Sherlock picked him up and held him close. He wasn't sure if it was because Sherlock hadn't been there, or if it was because he had just woken up; a little of both, he assumed.

Sherlock took John into his room and laid the now calm toddler on his bed. He then proceeded to dry and comb his dark curls and get dressed, before dressing John, blowing a raspberry on his tummy before putting his shirt on, which made John squeal in laughter.

Sherlock took John out into the kitchen and put him in his booster, then cut up some banana and gave it to him. When John was done eating they went into the sitting room to play for a bit, since they still had a little over an hour left. They played and read and watched some telly before it was time to leave.

John seemed to know something was up because he wouldn't settle down. He kept trying to squirm out of Sherlock's arms and was fussy the whole ride, obviously getting on the cabbies nerves but Sherlock didn't care. When the got to St. Barts Sherlock paid the cabbie and went up to the top floor. John was quiet now but had decided to hide himself in Sherlock's coat because of all the people he didn't know. When they got to the private wing that Mycroft had arranged for John, they were met by the devil himself and Lestrade.

"Ready? Lestrade asked.

"Yes, best to get started right away."

Lestrade called over the doctors responsible for this procedure and told them that it was time to begin. They explained that they would give John one and a half ounces every hour, so that his body can get used to the feeling of growing so much a little bit at a time instead of all at once. They would have a nurse come in and replace his hospital gown every time they gave him a new dosage so he would be comfortable, and the part Sherlock hated the most, they couldn't allow anyone except doctors or nurses to come in during the procedure because they couldn't

risk John waking up, but that Sherlock would be allowed to be in there with John until he fell asleep.

John didn't seem to like any of this and tried to get away again, but Sherlock soothed his hair and whispered to him "Ssh, it's going to be fine, you'll be alright," though he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince John or himself. Nothing like this had ever been done before, and what if something happened and they didn't know how to deal with it?

When they entered the room the nurses removed John's clothing and put him in a hospital gown that was a few sizes to large for him. Sherlock placed him on the bed and felt his heart clench at the frightened cries of the boy when they put the IV in his arm. Sherlock tried to distract John by smoothing his hair or giving him a small kiss on the temple of forehead or even just playing with his hand gently, until the anesthetic forced him to sleep.

"Sir," one of the nurses said, "sir, you have to leave now." Sherlock didn't seem to notice, he just sat there, so she tried again. "Mr. Holmes, you have to leave now so we can start the procedure."

Sherlock blinked and stood up, watching the toddler for a moment more before turning and leaving the room. He walked into the waiting room and sat down near Lestrade, who could almost see the stress radiating from his body.

"Sherlock, he'll be fine."

"How do you know, they haven't done anything like this before. What if they mess up?"

"Have a little faith, they know what to do. Stop worrying so much."

Sherlock glanced over at the DI, then back to the door that separated him from John. "I will when you do."

The three of them sat in silence for a while, before Mycroft excused himself to go back to work. Not long after that, Greg went to go and get something to eat at the canteen. He offered to bring something back for Sherlock, but his offer was, unsurprisingly, denied.

Sherlock did small things to pass the time. He had Lestrade go to the flat to get his laptop and sheet music, he imagined himself playing his violin and managed to compose a few pieces. He also took a small nap and talked to Lestrade about some possible cases. He managed to pass about three hours doing these things. Only about four hours left.

He visited his mind palace for a while, remembering the events of the past week and storing them in the filing cabinet in John's room, the room closest to his heart… er, if he had one, that is. Before he knew it, someone was shaking him back to reality, and he was greeted with the face of Greg Lestrade.

"They're done. They said you can go in now, but he's still going to be sleeping."

Sherlock was in the room before he could even finish his sentence.

There he was, looking the same as he did a week ago before all this happened. John Watson, ex-army doctor, current doctor, best friend to William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and the only person to hold Sherlock's heart. Sherlock walked over to the bed containing his best friend and sat down. He took John's hand in his and intertwined their fingers. At the sudden contact, John's eyes tightened before opening slowly, blinking at the harsh white light shining down from the ceiling. He groaned, his body was very sore. He looked over to Sherlock and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a bloody truck. I can really tell that my whole body grew several feet in just a few hours."

Sherlock huffed a laugh, but his smile faltered a bit when he looked John in the eyes. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong, or if I hurt you, or almost killed you, or anything else I did wrong when you were-" he was cut off when a hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled his lips onto John's. When John pulled away, he couldn't help but smirk.

"I'll have to remember that for when you ramble on in the future."

Sherlock just stared for a moment, before a small smile crept onto his face. "So you did hear me."

"I did. There was always a part of me that was still, well, me. It was very small and I couldn't do much with it because the toddler part was so overpowering, but yes I heard you, and I couldn't have been more relieved. I love you, Sherlock, and I have since I saw you on that rooftop."

They locked eyes for a few seconds, then tentatively, Sherlock moved him lips down onto John's. He wasn't sure if he was doing it right, but with John's guidance, he learned quickly. It was a sweet but tender kiss and it lasted until they had to pull apart for air. "I love you too."

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson walked into the room. "Oh dear, John. I was gone for a week only to come home to be told you were in the hospital," Mrs. Hudson tutted. "What have you boys gotten yourselves into this time?"

John and Sherlock looked at each other, and burst out laughing.