A/N: Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews and feedback, it really makes my day knowing that you're enjoying this story. Sorry if I have replied to all of them, I try my best to do so. P.S – this story has not been beta'ed so will have spelling and grammar mistake. I apologize for them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sherlock left the hospital feeling the desperate need for a cigarette. He fished into his pockets and pulled out the packet he'd brought the day before. He lit one up the instant fresh air hit his lungs. He'd been fighting the need from the moment he'd gotten John's phone call; luckily the desire to solve the case and help John outweighed everything else, until he'd seen John come apart in his sisters flat. He'd never actually seen anyone he'd cared about like that before and it had been unnerving to say the least.
It hadn't taken him long to solve the case, no more than five minutes, maybe seven. Then Lestrade had driven him to the hospital so he could put John's mind at ease about his sisters supposed attack. The drive had been carried out in silence for the most part. Except for a few minutes when Lestrade felt it necessary to talk.
"I hated seeing him like that again." Greg said matter-of-factly.
Sherlock didn't reply, his just fixed his gaze out of the car window.
"Reminded me of when we lost you." Greg glanced over at the detective. "Only he was worse then."
"As I have already been informed." Sherlock said coolly. Was everyone determined to fuel his guilt? He'd made a decision for the wellbeing of everyone, why couldn't they all see that. Why did they have to keep trying to make him feel guilty for doing the right thing? - Besides, he didn't need their help, he felt guilty enough already.
"I'm just saying Sherlock."
"What Lestrade? What are you saying?" Sherlock snapped, glaring at the inspector.
Greg clenched his jaw tight. "That you pissing off and faking your death cause a lot of pain, especially to John."
"Again, I am aware…"
"Are you? Sure, you've been told." Greg said harshly. "I'm sure John and Mrs. Hudson and everyone has told you all about it. But now, now you've seen just a smidgen of what it was like." He took a deep breath, his hands tightening around the wheel. "When I arrived at the hospital Sherlock, I was upset. Mrs. Hudson was in tears….but John….Sherlock, he was unconscious. He passed out for Pete's sake. That's how bad the shock was. And when he finally came round, he may as well have been comatose."
Sherlock swallowed hard, turning back to the passing traffic. He didn't need to hear thing. No, he didn't want to hear this. He was already painfully aware how he'd screwed up his friend's life.
"And don't sit there and pretend you don't care Sherlock, cause I know its shit."
"I never denied I cared, Lestrade. - I simply do not understand why everyone feels it necessary to tell me, over and over again that I hurt my best friend, I know this, alright. I get it. I screwed up and because of me John went through three years of hell."
Lestrade stared at Sherlock as his tone got louder and harsher.
"I can't change what I did, and even if I could I wouldn't. It was the right decision. The only thing I would chance if such a thing was ever possible would be meeting John Watson in the first place."
A loud honking echoed through the car pulling Lestrade from his shocked staring, he turned his attention back to the road and moved away from the traffic lights. He'd never really thought about how it had affect Sherlock. He guessed like everyone he'd thought the man was untouchable, emotionally. His current tour de force proved how wrong they all were.
Ten minutes after that they'd pulled into the hospital car park and the conversation was forgotten. Sherlock had rushed off, in a calm and cool manner to tell John what he'd learnt while Lestrade hung around the waiting room for no real reason.
Sherlock hadn't hung around after John had left needing air. He'd wanted to, if he was honest, but he didn't see the point, especially considering they were barely speaking. Now he stood outside the hospital taking long drags from his cigarette. He was a few feet away from where he'd supposedly leapt to his death three years earlier. He glanced up at the roof and saw two figures, easily recognizable as John and Molly. He sighed as he deduced they were discussing the current situation between him and John. He saw the moment Molly told the doctor that she'd been the one to help him. To his surprise John showed no signs of anger, only weariness. And who could blame him. Sherlock felt the same.
He dropped the half smoked cigarette on the ground, pressing the toe of his shoe into it and shoved his hands into his pockets. Taking a deep breath he turned away from the hospital, heading back towards the main street.
~SHERLOCK~
John returned to his sister room and found it empty but for the still unconscious woman. It wasn't really that much of a surprise that Sherlock hadn't hung around. After all, he was the least patient man he knew. Sitting by a hospital bedside was the last thing he wanted to be doing. But there had been a little bit of him that had hoped he was still going to be there.
His talk with Molly hadn't exactly put his mind at ease. In fact it had probably just added to his stress levels. But he couldn't' deny what she's said made sense, for the most part. Of course it was ridiculous to think that the universe had it in for him. If that was true he wouldn't have Beth and Junior, he wouldn't have a job, his life would be one endless stream of misery and he couldn't say it was. If the universe was really punishing him, Sherlock would be dead and so would he. The truth was that bad things happened; he should know that better than anyone. All those men who'd lost their lives during the war, they weren't being punishing, neither were their families, it just happened that they'd plucked the short straw. Realizing this lifted a weight from John shoulders and he suddenly felt like he could breathe again. He sat down next to Harry's bed and took her hand, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin. "Alright Harry. That's it okay. Time to get things sorted. - You and Me." he murmured. "Time to get out lives back on track."
~SHERLOCK~
"Sherlock? Sherlock, what have you got?" asked Lestrade as the pair stood over yet another confusing dead body, at least confusing to the inspector and Scotland Yard.
Sherlock had been staring at it for five minutes without saying a word, his fingers working over the keys of his mobile when it went off. The detective frowned at the name flashing on the caller ID. MARY. His heart jumped inexplicably and he quickly hit the answer button and lifted the thing to his ear, completely ignoring Lestrade and the case. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Beth wanted me to call you and ask you to come to the park with us?"
Sherlock's frowned depend. "I do not believe Beth is able to ask such a question. Her vocabulary is not that advanced."
"What I meant was, she wants to see you and I figured a trip to the park would be prefect."
Sherlock glanced over his shoulder at the body. "I….I'm on a case." he murmured.
"Oh. Alright. Well, it was just…"
"I can be at Paddington Street Garden's in fifteen minutes."
"Wonderful. Beth will be thrilled."
Sherlock hung up without a word, a little confused as to why he was going. He turned around, took a final look about the room and then left.
"Sherlock!" Lestrade yelled after him. "Where are you going, what about the case?"
"I have something to do."
"More important than this?"
Sherlock thought the question over for a second before answering. "Yes, actually." he waved his arm to at a passing black cab. "Besides, it was the window cleaner."
"What window cleaner?" Lestrade snapped, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "Bloody hell Sherlock, where are you going!"
Sherlock pulled open the door of the black cab and pointed across the street. "That window cleaner."
Lestrade glanced across the street and stared at a man in his mid-twenties. "Are you serious?"
"Listen to me or don't Lestrade, I really don't care. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a young lady waiting for me." Sherlock smirked as he closed the cab door on a bewildered Greg Lestrade.
It didn't take Sherlock fifteen minutes to get to the park, with the traffic so light in the mid-morning it only took ten. Of course Sherlock had known this would happen but he also knew it would take Mary longer to get there than him. The detective walking through the park gate and located the nearest bench where he sat and waited for Mary and the children, as predicted, five minutes after his arrival the young red-head pushed a double buggy through the gate with a very excited one and a half year old, bouncing in the seat.
"Sheelock!"
Sherlock got to his feet as they approached.
"Sheelock!" Beth called again, staring up at him with besotted eyes.
"Beth. Mary." He said, leaning over to glace at the sleeping baby. "Junior. - Asleep as usual."
Mary chucked. "That's what newborn's do."
Sherlock nodded. "As I have read. - Shall we." he gestured to the park.
They made their way through the park in silence until they reached a small children's play park. Mary stopped by a bench and knelt down in front of the buggy to unfasten Beth's rains and lifting the little girl out. The moment her feet touched the ground she was rushing over to Sherlock, grinning from ear to ear. The detective sat on the bench, his back straight, looking down at her.
"Sweng."
Sherlock frowned, he still hadn't gotten used to deciphering Beth's language.
"Sweng, sweng." she repeated bouncing on her feet.
"Swing." Mary translated with a smile.
"Oh. - Go on then."
"She wants you to push her on the swing." Mary chucked, rolling her eyes.
Sherlock looked from Beth to Mary to the swing and groaned. "Is it really necessary?"
Mary dropped down next to him. "Welcome to the joys of parenthood."
"I am not her parent." Sherlock said sternly.
Mary looked at him with a raised disbelieving brow. "Must I call John and have him explain it to you again?"
Sherlock's face fell at the mention of his friend. He hadn't spoken to John Watson since Harry's accident. He slumped a little against the wood at his back. "How is he?"
Mary smiled softly. "Same as before, miserable. - Well, actually I think he's worse."
Sherlock sighed, staring down at the small hand tugging at his larger one. "Does he know you're meeting me?"
"No. He's at work. But he wouldn't care you know."
"I think he would. I'm a danger after all."
"He never said that Sherlock."
Sherlock glanced over at her. "No, but it is true."
"Must we go through this again? You're no more of a danger by being with them than not."
"I wish I could believe that." Sherlock sighed, before finally getting to his feet and lifting Beth off hers, carrying her across the park to the swings, listening to her jabber on aimlessly.
Mary watched him go and exhaled warily. They were never going to get back to normal if Sherlock continued to believe he was a danger to John and the children. And it was obvious to all that they were missing each other. "Men." she grunted. "Don't you turn out like you're dad's, Junior. The worlds couldn't cope." she said lightly over the side of the buggy.
Leaning back against the bench, Mary folded her arms over her chest and watching Sherlock and Beth across the park. Sherlock seemed to be getting the hang of the pushing thing and Beth was giggling happily. It was a real Kodak moment. Mary finish into her pocket and pulled out her mobile. Flicking to the camera she aimed it at the pair and snapped a few pics, wishing he'd had the forethought to bring a proper camera. "Next time." she whispered to herself.
She was just putting the phone away when it rang. She glanced at the ID, then to Sherlock and Beth.
"Hello John."
"Hey, Mary. Was wondering what you're doing for lunch. Thought we could meet up at the park. Maybe have a picnic before the weather goes bad again."
"Oh, that…sounds wonderful. Actually we're already at the park. Paddington Street."
"Excellent. I'll see you in about half hour then."
"Great. Uh, John I think you should know…." Mary swallowed nervously, looked back at Sherlock and Beth.
"Yes?" John's voice was tinted with fear. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I was just….We don't have any food." she finally answered.
John sighed down the line. "Is that all, Jesus Mary, you almost gave me a heart attack. I'll stop off at Greggs on my way. Sandwiches and cakes all round."
"Wonderful." she smiled down the phone. "See you then."
"Yeah."
The line went dead and Mary sighed. She had no idea why she hadn't just told John that she was with Sherlock. It's not like he would care, right. It wasn't like she and the kids were trapped in the middle of a messy divorce, where John refused to let Sherlock see the kids. She shook her head. Sadly though, that's exactly what it felt like.
A/N: Ok, just wanted to say. First; I've never been to Paddington Street Gardens, so I'm taking some liberties with whether they have a children's play-ground or not. It's called dramatic license. Lol. Second; for those of you who are not English. Greggs is not a mis-smelling for Lestrade name, it's the name of a chain of sandwich shops.
I'll have another chapter for you soon.