Author's Note:

Mostly cute chapters from here on out, at least for awhile anyway. The next chapter is pure smut, not even going to lie. I love all the reviews! Thank you so much!

The nurse wheeled Sarah away quickly, her eyes closed and head lowered as she tried to calm herself down. She had vaguely heard what Sherlock had said and tensed. She knew that medical term. Not good. Very not good. Sarah relaxed in the bed the best she could, letting the doctor poke and prod her until he gave a relieved smile.

"It's your gallbladder," he whispered softly. Sarah only relaxed marginally. "Just gallbladder disease, Sarah. Very common during pregnancy. Unfortunately we can't operate because of little Amy but we can give you some medication." She tensed. "That won't hurt her at all, that will help you stay out of pain until her birth. We can operate a few weeks after she is born. We want to keep you over night to make sure everything else is running smoothly." Sarah nodded in agreement and smiled. Safe. Amy was safe.

Stay with her? Don't just sit in that waiting room, you git. Be the man that John isn't. -MH

Ugh. Sherlock read the text and then endured more pain as he stood up and found his way over the nurse's station. He was given the room number and he gave a slight knock on the door before entering. She wasn't being rushed to surgery or anything so that was good sign. Must of have been wrong. Usually being wrong would not sit well with him, but in this instant he was relieved. He stood there in the door quietly and awkwardly for a moment and then cleared his throat, "Do you want me stay?" Please say no. Shouldn't her family be here? Not him? "Is there anyone you want me to contact for you?" He leaned against the door frame, ignoring the blistering pain his feet were radiating.

Sarah looked up at Sherlock with a soft smile. "I don't have any family," she whispered with a small laugh, a hand resting on her swollen belly. "Just little Amy here. I'm fine, Sherlock. You are more than welcome to leave." She pulled some hair behind her ear and blushed. "Thank you." Her eyes moved to lock on him. "For everything. Thank you. You're going to be a great parent to Amy." After a sigh she let herself relax and closed her eyes.

John had stumbled out of the pub, overlooking the black car in his haste to call Sherlock. He needed to talk to him. Needed him. He sloppily leaned against a phone booth and after a few mistakes, managed to find Sherlock in his contacts. He didn't even wait for Sherlock to start talking. "Hi," a small hiccup. "Sherlo' I think..." he closed his eyes and giggled softly. "Phone booth," he muttered and let his head fall. "Love you."

No wonder the woman kept coming over to his flat and talking about everything. Sherlock was about to say something to Sarah when his cell phone went off. It was John. He excused himself politely and walked away from the room. "John. You are drunk. I don't have time for your foolishness right now. I'm at the hospital." He was hoping to shock his fiancé into sobriety. He sat down in the waiting room because his feet were killing him. It would probably take much longer for his feet to heal at this rate. He sighed and shoved his own misery aside for now.

"Hospital?" John's eyebrows knitted together and he pushed away from the phone booth as he stumbled toward the black car. Mycroft... right? Always Mycroft. "Are y-you okay?" His words were starting to slur together and he was grateful that the door to the car opened. He fell into the seat without a second thought, looking up at the warm body he was leaning on. "Mycrof'!" He smiled and didn't move, enjoying the warmth Mycroft provided against his bright red cheeks. "'S okay, Sherlock, brother," he ended the call and let his eyes fall shut.

You would think he could hold his alcohol. -MH

Mycroft gently pushed at John's form and grimaced when the soldier was heavier than he looked. Wonderful. The car stopped in front of the hospital and John only stirred slightly.

Outside. Want to take him back to the flat? –MH

With a sigh Sherlock hung up the phone and then glanced at it as a text came through. He shook his head to himself. How was it he got accused of being a child so often and yet John did things like these? Another text came through and this time he replied.

Everything seems to be okay. She doesn't have family, so I should stay? Someone should be here just in case… Just take John home and let him sleep it off. –SH

Home seemed like a better option to Sherlock but if something went awry there should be someone here. He really needed that cigarette right about now. However, he didn't think his feet could take any more pressure than what they had been through. He shoved the phone in his pocket, rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He let sleep over take him because then he wouldn't have to think about anything. Not Sarah, John, little Sandi, his feet, nothing. He needed to escape to a land of oblivion and bliss.

Mycroft didn't need to be told twice and had the car take John back to the flat. He helped the man up into Sherlock's bed, kept him on his side, and left with a look of disgust.

It didn't take long for a doctor to come out, kneeling down beside Sherlock's sleeping form and studying him. "Mr. Holmes?" He didn't touch the other man, merely raised his voice a bit. "Mr. Holmes, Sarah has requested your company. If you would like, she'll explain." He had a wry smile on his lips. "She's clear now and asking about... John?" He tilted his head a bit before standing. "Same room, Sir."

So close to being lost in slumber. Someone speaking his name brought Sherlock back to full wakefulness. Of course. Why should he get any kind of respite after the last couple days? He shuffled to his feet with a hiss of pain and then limped back to the room, ignoring the doctor's request of, if he was all right. He made it to the room and collapsed into the chair it offered immediately. These shoes were stifling and he kicked them with a groan. Slightly better but not much. He glanced up to Sarah, trying to mask the pain with a small smile.

"You're in some pain." Sarah smiled a bit and nodded her head toward his feet. "I can tell John bandaged them. You should have told me, Sherlock." She smiled weakly and leaned slightly off the bed the grab Sherlock's hand. "Feel." A smile as she placed his hand on her stomach. Amy was kicking. A lot. And she was strong. "She's been like that for a while. I don't think she likes how stressed I was." The hand on top of Sherlock's tightened slightly. "I even tried talking to her but it wouldn't work. Talk to her?" Her gaze lifted to Sherlock hopefully.

"I'm fine," Sherlock muttered the obvious lie. He felt the flurry of activity. He always felt so stupid when asked to talk to the baby. Might as well humor Sarah yet again. As long as he wasn't expected to talk in one of those dopey high pitched voices. Besides according to Sarah the baby liked the sound of his voice. He found this odd and didn't really know whether that was true or not. He finally said something, "Little Sandi, mom needs you to settle down. Everything is okay now. Think of a silly clown." He had thought of the ridiculous rhyme last minute.

Sarah laughed softly but seemed to relax a little as Amy calmed down. It was crazy that simply at the low tone of Sherlock's voice that Amy would stop moving and let her rest. She let her head fall back, her hand slipping off of Sherlock's. "Thank you." She took a deep breath. "It's like she's running a marathon, honestly." She turned her head to glance at the consulting detective. "Ever going to tell me where John is?" It was like she was already a mother. A knowing look crossed her eyes, her lips tilted in a half-smile.

"Mmm," Sherlock replied at being thanked. He frowned at her question and shrugged. "We got in a bit of a domestic before you came over. He left, got drunk and is now sleeping it off back at the flat." He gave another shrug. Never before had he been so desperate for sleep, as he usually fought it for as long as he could. Maybe if by actually being straight with Sarah for once the woman would leave him alone and he could finally take a much needed nap. He was feeling bitter again but contained it. Just like he was containing everything else right now. An escape from reality seemed like the only option right now because he didn't want to exist in it any longer at the moment.

"Go to sleep," Sarah muttered as she turned her head away. She couldn't show Sherlock the sudden disappointment she suddenly felt. Drunk. That wasn't like John. The fight must have been bad. Now she was scared that he wouldn't be able to see her tonight. She sighed and wiped away the tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks. Bloody emotions.

Was Sherlock so beaten down, that he was that transparent to Sarah? Was she crying? He closed his eyes tightly but now his mind wouldn't turn off and he knew sleep would never find him right now. "You'll upset little Sandi if you keep crying, you know. Then I'll be forced to come up with another ridiculous rhyme and nobody wants that." He cracked an eye open to look at her, a very faint smirk on his lips. John better throw him a God damned parade or something after tonight because his fiancé should be the one in this chair not him.

Sarah managed to choke out a laugh, turning her head to look at Sherlock. "Why should she be upset? She's the one giving me all these mood swings." She flashed a watery smile. As if right on cue Amy moved and this time Sarah smiled. Sure, the little girl was a bit of an inconvenience but she and John, and even Sherlock, were making the best of it. Well, her and Sherlock. "Besides, she seemed to enjoy your ridiculous rhyme. Feels like she wants another one, Papa."

Of course. Sherlock thought hastily for a moment. "Little Sandi, I'll give you candy. Whenever you want, if you stop this taunt." He smirked, rather proud of himself this time around. John was never going to believe him when he told how much he was humoring Sarah right now. His fiancé better let him try all the new things because he could really use some make-up sex or at least a cigarette…several cigarettes really.

Sarah quickly covered her mouth, laughter shaking her body. "Oh God, that was perfect." She rested a hand on her stomach and grinned at Sherlock. "I'm beginning to think you'd make a wonderful father," she whispered as she closed her eyes. She fell asleep for the first time in a day, little Amy finally resting as well.

John is awake. Still drunk. Wants you. –MH

The solider had stumbled out of their bed nearly shouting for his fiancé. His face was still beet red and Mycroft helped him take his jacket off.

And I mean wants you. In the most vulgar meaning of the term. –MH

Oh thank God, maybe he could get some sleep now too. Nope, his cell phone just went off. With a sigh, Sherlock pulled out his phone.

I figured. He is just going to have to wait. They are keeping Sarah until tomorrow. When John is sober, he is more than welcome to join us here. –SH

He dropped the phone into his lap, closed his eyes and finally sleep found him.

Mycroft grinned slightly as he read the text, hitting reply.

He will be over in a few hours. -MH

He put John back down on the couch, watching the Army doctor fall asleep without a second complaint.

After a few hours John woke up, Mycroft helping him nurse his hangover and dropping him off at the hospital. He had managed to clean up a bit and walked hesitantly into the room. Sarah was still asleep and he froze at the sight of her. Pregnant. A hand resting on her swollen belly. On Amy. On their daughter. He had to lean against the wall beside the door, his knees locking at the sight of everything. He hadn't even noticed Sherlock.

The message sent to Sherlock's phone went unread. He had already slipped into a fitful slumber. John's presence didn't register as the consulting detective slept. He shifted, his body trying to get more comfortable because of its currently cramped position. He muttered in discontent and shifted again.

John looked at Sherlock the moment he moved slightly. He swallowed hard. They had fought and he ran off like some child to go drinking. Fuck. He took a deep breath and moved forward, falling on to the floor beside the chair and rested his head under one of Sherlock's hands. "I love you," he whispered.

Another groan and Sherlock shifted once more. He woke slowly, and he became aware of something touching his hand. He turned and John being in the room finally registered. He must have slept a few hours though, but it had been far from a restful sleep. For a long moment he didn't say anything, because he wasn't sure what should be said. Now wasn't the time or place to bring up the fight from earlier. Better to talk about something else. "Apparently little Sandi likes it when I rhyme."

John glanced up at Sherlock with a half smile. "Does she? Good thing you're a genius and can do it all the time," he whispered. He wanted for Sarah to wake up for entirely selfish reasons but managed to control himself. She needed to sleep and stay healthy. "I didn't know Sarah was in the hospital. You said you were," he muttered, forcing the lump in his throat down.

"I said I was at the hospital. I sent you text saying Sarah had come over to the flat. If you hadn't been drunk, you probably would have put two and two together. It isn't my fault if you were too drunk to figure it out." So much for trying to keep the conversation civil while in the room with a sleeping pregnant woman. Sherlock sighed in frustration and looked away from his fiancé.

Oh. Right. John certainly should have felt offended but Sherlock was right. "Right then," he muttered with a small nod of his head. He hadn't even opened those texts. They were still sitting in his inbox. He shifted on the floor and dropped his gaze away from Sherlock. "Thank you," he whispered.

It was ironic to him, that he had been the one to be here after he and John had just had a fight over having Sarah over at the flat and Sherlock not wanting to be around when it happened. He shrugged at the thanks given to him. He sighed at himself again and turned to face the army doctor once more. "I did it for you," he admitted quietly.

John licked his lips and chanced a look up at Sherlock. "I know," he stated with a smile. "I love you," he shifted to his knees and gently met Sherlock's lips, not hesitating as he ran his tongue along Sherlock's bottom lip. He needed this. Needed to apologize to Sherlock. And he knew he was a good kisser. He lifted a hand and tangled it in Sherlock's hair.

"I love you too," Sherlock replied as he returned the kiss. He leaned to whisper into John's ear. "When we get home, you owe me a lot of make-up sex. I have a lot of things in mind and you are going to take it and like it." He smirked and arched his eyebrows forward as he brought his face back in front of his fiancé's. He leaned into John's lips again for another kiss.

Jesus. That shouldn't be so hot when said in a hospital next to the woman carrying his child. But Sherlock's voice was enough. He returned Sherlock's kiss with a soft moan of agreement.

"Am I interrupting something?" Sarah looked at them with a small blush. John pulled away from Sherlock's lips with a gasp, falling back with wide eyes. "Good to see you not drunk, John," she muttered. He stood slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, get over here. She's moving a bit."

John clinched his fingers several times before stepping forward, giving one glance back to his fiancé. He hesitantly put his hand out and let Sarah direct him where to place it. He was still for a few moments before his face lit up and his eyes went wide. "T-That's," he took a deep breath. "My God..." He laughed in disbelief and kept his eyes trained on Sarah's stomach.

Sherlock smirked at Sarah and then looked away when John went over to the hospital bed. He would have left the room but his feet still weren't feeling any better. They weren't bleeding anymore, or at least he didn't think they were. Maybe he could get some pain medication while he was at the hospital. Usually he would do without pills but he doubted he would be off his feet that much because, well because, he was a stubborn idiot.

Without hesitation John bent at the waist and placed a kiss on Sarah's stomach. "Hi Amy," he whispered. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her swollen belly. "I'm your Dad," he added. "I can't wait to meet you." There was a long pause and after a small sigh and a second kiss John pulled away and resumed his nearly perfect posture. He kept his hands over his daughter to continue to feel her moving.

"Feels like she likes your voice, too," Sarah stated softly, resting her hand on top of John's.

Nope, he couldn't do it. His feet be damned. Sherlock stood, muttered a lame excuse about needing to use the restroom and left. He didn't get far. In fact he slid down the wall just outside the door. He closed his eyes and wished he had just stayed asleep and oblivious to the last few moments that had just occurred.

It wasn't too difficult to read his fiancé. That wasn't a trip to the bathroom it all, just an excuse to get out of the room. Despite his fast heart rate and the excitement churning his stomach, he pulled away from Sarah to follow Sherlock. It did surprise him that Sherlock hadn't moved a bit farther. "I... don't really know what to think." He rocked from heel to toe and clasped his hand behind his back. "I'm excited because that's my daughter in there. My first child," he paused and dropped his gaze to the man on the floor. "Except you're upset. Very upset."

Sherlock opened his eyes, surprised that John had followed him out of the room. "Seeing you with Sarah was too much for me. All it did was remind of me when I caught you two. You two together is like…" he trailed off with shrug, as words failed him. He thought for a moment and then added, "…probably the same feeling or at least similar to how you felt when Jackson randomly showed up at the flat."

Oh. Oh. That made sense. A lot of sense. "Except it's different for you because Sarah can't just disappear. My foolish mistake is permanent. That... really upsets you." And there was nothing John could do to make it better. He was excited about Amy. Excited about the idea of being a father. "I'm... sorry." He moved to kneel in front of Sherlock and placed a hand on his cheek.

Finally, John seemed to get it. Sherlock had tried to explain it to his fiancé twice before. Once in the Afghan desert where they made love and shortly after the army doctor had nearly beaten Jackson to death but that had resulted in the worst fight they had ever had. The unwanted image of John taking off the ring and shoving it into his hands came to my mind. He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around John in a tight and needy hug. He leaned his forehead on his fiancé's shoulder. "I love you," he whispered. Suddenly and irrationally he was afraid that John would leave him so he clung tighter to the other man still.

John fell forward and roughly pressed a hand against the wall behind Sherlock to brace himself. "I love you too," he whispered, using his free arm to wrap tightly around his fiancé. "So much." There was no going back to change everything between them but John was going to do his best to make Sherlock the happiest man alive. "I owe you everything."

Sherlock held onto John for awhile and then finally released the hug. "Now go in and spend time with your daughter." Maybe later down the road he would be able to deal with being in the same room as Sarah and John, but right now he just couldn't. He should probably get medical attention for his feet because he had no business being on them in the first place. They had reopened, bled and scabbed back over without further treatment and he didn't want to risk getting an infection.

"Okay," John whispered as he leaned forward and met Sherlock's lips. "Go find a doctor. You're pale," another kiss, "Get your feet taken care of. I'll see you soon." A parting kiss as he stood. His eyes lingered on Sherlock for a long moment before he went into the room and moved the chair closer to the hospital bed. Sarah seemed to light up instantly as John leaned closer to her stomach, a large smile on his face.

Sherlock hailed a passing nurse and then argued about needing a wheelchair briefly. He finally relented when he was told he would have to go to a different floor for treatment since this one was for pregnant women only. After waiting impatiently for what seemed like forever a doctor finally showed up.

The doctor cleaned the wounds and bandaged them. She wrote a prescription for Sherlock, that would allow him to buy an antibiotic ointment for his feet and also a mild pain medication that only had thirty pills and couldn't be refilled. She informed the tall man that the bandages should be changed once a day and stressed staying off his feet completely for at least three days.

He thanked the doctor and once more was forced to be carted around in a wheelchair, much to Sherlock's dismay and annoyance. He wasn't ready to go back to Sarah's room, so he had the nurse take him to the exit. He lied, saying someone would be there to pick him up soon and to just leave him there. Once the nurse left, he found someone smoking and bummed a cigarette and a light. With a deep inhale, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the almost instantaneous calming effect the nicotine had on him.

John and Sarah had talked for a long time, discussing everything, before she told him he could go. "You'll be seeing me again before you leave," she had insisted and he left with a soft kiss to her forehead.

After asking several nurses where he might find a skinny bloke in a billowing jacket, he left the hospital and rolled his eyes. Smoking. "You can't do that once Amy is here, y'know." He smirked and plucked the cigarette from Sherlock's hand, taking a long drag off of it. "It's unhealthy," he exhaled and gently placed the cigarette back in Sherlock's mouth. His fiancé looked a bit better, less pale and certainly not in as much pain. "Want me to carry you home, then? Sarah's good for the night. I'm coming back in the morning to help her home." He wiggled his fingers and glanced either way down the sidewalk before looking back up at Sherlock. "Any plans?"

A thin smirk etched Sherlock's lips when John plucked the cigarette away and took a drag. He finished the cancer stick off and even though it could result in a fine, he flicked the butt to the ground. "I got some prescriptions that need filled. No need to carry me, we can take a cab." His shoes were still in Sarah's hospital room. Oh well, John could get them tomorrow when he visited again. It wasn't like he needed them right now anyway.

John raised a skeptical eyebrow and glanced at Sherlock's feet. "How about I drop you off at the flat? I don't think they'll let you in without shoes." He reached a hand out and intertwined his fingers with Sherlock's. "It's the least I can do. You go rest. I know that's what the doctor told you to do." He gave Sherlock's hand a small squeeze. Christ, if he hadn't already told Sherlock that tonight was going to be relaxed he would beg his fiancé for a quick shag. He paused at the thought, bit his bottom lip, and moved to press his chest against Sherlock's. "And if you're good I'll do whatever you want me to. You told me earlier I owe you, didn't you?" He gave Sherlock a chaste kiss as he hailed a cab.

"Well in that case my dear doctor, make sure you get some whipped cream, from a can was it? Probably a few of them." Sherlock smirked. "I already have everything else needed back at the flat. I think…" he trailed off for a moment as he took stock of the inventory in his room mentally and then nodded. "Yep, I have everything else. Besides, what I have in mind won't have me on my feet at all." He smirked again. A cab finally pulled up and with John's help, Sherlock got into it.

The color of John's cheeks shouldn't have been medically possible and he turned away from Sherlock as he cleared his throat. He was already having to adjust himself in his jeans. "Right, yes." He glanced at Sherlock nervously. The fact that he had to even think about everything else back at the flat... What had he gotten himself into? The cab stopped and John leaned across the seat and place a kiss on his fiancé's cheek. "See you soon." He slid out of the cab and watched it start moving again toward the flat before going into the store.

The look on John's face and readjustment of the pants didn't go unnoticed by Sherlock. He smirked proudly before the cab took off. It didn't take long for the ride to end, and after paying he got out. He hobbled up the stairs and even though he was supposed to be off his feet, he went around the flat destroying the bugs in his house that Mycroft had placed. He made sure to do it noisily, so the other end would crackle with loud static. "If you really feel the need to continue spying, then do it after John leaves. You know how he gets," he said before destroying the last bug he could find. Since no one was here, he dropped to his hand and knees and crawled into his bedroom to give his feet a rest. He found the necessary items and placed them in the top drawer of the nightstand. He flopped onto the bed after taking his shirt off and waited for John to come home.