Greg sat down on the waiting room chair, feeling utterly exhausted.
"Thank you, Sir. Greg. For everything. For standing up for me today… It's meant a lot…" Phillip trailed off, weakly.
"Benjamin Phillip will be joining us momentarily. Stop fretting, Anderson, I know it seems sketchy at the moment but it's not, really. Relax. Don't make me order you," Greg said, forcing a smile.
"Benjamin Phillip," he laughed softly. "That was Sally's idea. I had another. If our little boy makes it, that is…"
"Oh, Phillip," Molly said, still in her wedding party attire. "Don't you DARE think like that. It's going to be fine. Your son and your bride will be FINE. Now Sally did mention your idea," she said, trying to distract him from his fretting. "Benjamin Gregory Phillip," Molly said, "or, was it Benjamin Phillip Gregory?"
"The latter, not the former," the forensics tech said, weakly. "Why won't they let me in? Even in an emergency situation, the father is generally allowed in…"
"Obvious, really," Sherlock said, as he strolled in, uninvited, though not necessarily unexpected.
"Anderson, your devotion to your bride and your child is… typically heart strong. As are they both." He sat next to Anderson, without word or explanation.
"He's NOT too early, nearly on time actually," Sherlock said, softly. "Her due date was bungled."