Hey, it's been a little while, and I'm alive, sorry about the wait. A big thank you to everyone who followed and favorited, it meant a lot to me that people were even reading this story.

I realized later that I had given you guys no timeline whatsoever for this story. So Chapters 1 and 2, and other chapters henceforth are all before "A Study in Pink", so before the series even started really. We will obviously speed forward in time later on, but I will let you know when that happens, so we're here for now.

Please Read and Review, I would love to hear everyone's thoughts and opinions. Now, on to the story.

Chapter 2-

When Sherlock awoke he was lying in a hospital bed, he had a morphine drip and his leg was bandaged. Sherlock's brain felt foggy. He laid there for a minute or two trying to remember what happened, then the memories came flooding back and he shot up with a start.

"Erica!" he exclaimed. A nurse came running in to find him sitting up in bed, looking around frantically and beginning to hyperventilate.

"Sir, are you alright?" she asked "Can you tell me your name? Do you know where you are?" Sherlock looked to her frantically,

"Erica, where's Erica?!" he was growing even more panicked, "Where is she? What happened to her?" The nurse looked at him unfazed.

"Sir, I need you to calm down." Sherlock began to breathe more slowly, he knew she wouldn't tell him anything if he didn't even appear somewhat calm.

"That's better." The nurse continued, "Now, Can you tell me your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock supplied.

"Good, now do you know where you are?" the nurse replied.

"There was a shooting, I'm at the hospital for a gunshot wound to the leg," Sherlock answered. He was becoming impatient and so he decided to just answer what he knew would be her next question.

"Now please," Sherlock asked, "I need to get to my wife, Erica Holmes, where is she?"

The nurse sighed, "Wait here, I'll get the doctor."

The nurse left and returned a few minutes later with someone Sherlock deduced could only be the doctor. (Okay so maybe his deductive reason was kind of obvious, but he had been shot, put on the happy stuff, and was currently panicking about his wife's condition. So, give him a break.)

"Mr. Holmes," the doctor said, " I see you're awake."

"Yes," Sherlock said, " and I have more important matters to see to, so just let me sum up what you're about to say. I was shot in the thigh through and through. You had to do surgery to help repair the damage, though the bone remained mostly intact. I will have to be in a wheelchair for at least two weeks, and then crutches for a week, the soreness will still be consistent for several months, and I will need physical therapy. There, now where is my wife!?"

The doctor wiped a surprised look off his face, before looking at Sherlock sadly.

"I assume your wife has the name Erica Melody Holmes, correct?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Mr. Holmes," the doctor said solemnly, "your wife was brought to this hospital at the same time you were, but it was already too late. She was already dead when she was brought in...I'm so sorry Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock was in shock, he just stared at the doctor with a look of pure grief. Yet, despite his growing sadness and overwhelming emptiness, something played at his heart and something tingled in his brain. He was not thinking of something very important,

"Emma." his mind finally supplied. Emma, his child, his daughter…...where was she?!

Sherlock looked up at the doctor with a start.

" And my daughter Emma?!"

"Who?" the doctor asked confused.

"My two-year-old daughter, Emma Jane Holmes," Sherlock said impatiently.

The doctor looked at his notes. "There was a child at the scene, she said her name was Emma Jane Holmes and asked the officers to call her aunt Amelia, is this her?" He showed Sherlock a picture that looked like it had been taken at a police station. It was indeed Emma, she had blood on her clothes and her face lacked the usual smile.

Sherlock wasn't surprised Emma had told the officers her name, despite being only two years old, she had talked early, and was well on her way to forming complete sentences.

Sherlock also remembered a few weeks earlier when Amelia had come for Emma's birthday. Amelia had gifted Emma a toy phone, upon which Emma had excitedly asked. "What your number aunty?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Sherlock's face when he remembered how quickly Emma had committed the number to memory. She showed perhaps even more intellectual prowess than he had as a child.

" Yes, that's her! Where is she?" Sherlock asked.

"The officers called the number she gave them, but they didn't want her to just go with the woman that came." The doctor said, looking through his notes again.

"Did they ask the woman her name?" asked Sherlock with an annoyed tone.

"Yes, Amelia Parks." The doctor said with a questioning tone.

"Yes." Sherlock said quickly and somewhat impatiently, " She has my full permission to take Emma."

"I'll call the station and let them know they can leave." The nurse said as she and the doctor left the room.

Sherlock laid back and sighed, his wife, the love of his life, was gone.

"Till death do us part," Sherlock thought.

Sherlock laid there in his grief for a while, before he heard two sets of rapid footsteps headed towards him and sat up. He already knew who it was, and soon Amelia walked in the door holding Emma's hand tightly.

"Daddy!" Emma cried and ran towards him. He scooped her up on the bed and held her close.

Sherlock looked at Amelia, "Have you heard?" he asked slowly. Amelia curled her lips and nodded as tears filled her eyes, he didn't need to say what he was talking about. "Does she know?" Sherlock asked as his voice cracked.

Amelia shook her head and said quietly," I'm sorry, I just couldn't tell her." Sherlock looked at her with a sad but understanding look. It wasn't Amelia's responsibility to tell Emma, it was his.

Right at that moment Emma sat up straighter and looked up at him. "Where's mummy?" Emma asked, she sounded so innocent, he hated that he was about to take some of that away from her.

Sherlock steeled himself for what he was about to do and stroked Emma's hair, but still couldn't speak. How did he tell his little girl that her mother was dead. Instead, Emma gave him a look that was both sad and understanding,

"She isn't coming back is she?" asked Emma, but it was more like a statement.

Sherlock smiled sadly at her, "No, my darling." he said shaking his head lightly.

If possible Emma looked even sadder, and she hid her face on his chest and began to sob quietly. Sherlock just held her and began to shed a few tears of his own. Amelia stepped out then, to give them some privacy and release her own tears.

The funeral for Erica Melody Holmes was held a few days later. Erica's family was so absorbed in the service and their grief; that no one noticed how Amelia, Erica's dear sister, stayed off to the side and sat near a man in a wheelchair with a little girl in his lap.

During the service, the preacher spoke of a woman by the name of Erica Melody Parks. Sherlock and Amelia had decided it was best not to let Erica's family know about him and Emma, that was how Erica had kept it for almost three years. So during the service, her maiden name was used, but Amelia had overseen most of the funeral arrangements. So on the gravestone, another name was emblazoned...

..Erica Melody Holmes...

Hopefully, I will be able to get the next update out faster. That's all for now. :)