"Lemme get something straight... Irene is pregnant?" Lestrade clarified.
John's nose wrinkled, taking a moment before answering. "Erm... Yep... Yes..."
Lestrade scoffed. "For how long now?"
"Three weeks according to the doctor." Molly replied.
"Huh." Lestrade mused. "So you mean in between all this, Sherlock and Irene still got to..."
Before Lestrade could even finish his sentence, Molly hit him slightly on the arm. He raised in eyebrows in the protest before trailing his gaze on Sherlock. The consulting detective just sat there, eyes fixed on the opposite wall. Mary was sitting beside him with her hand in his and her head on his shoulder, as if offering her strength to him. That's when they noticed the violent trembling of Sherlock's hands.
There was a lot going on in Sherlock's head: how the plan was executed perfectly, how smoothly everything went, and yet, he was distraught. For days, he had thought of Irene and the child. He was unsure as to what he would feel, unsure whether or not it was a good thing to even have the child. He tried to dismiss the thoughts it brought, but everyday he found himself haunted by a child's face with Irene's grey eyes and his curly brown hair. Before, there was the case to worry about, the case to persuade him that he should focus in this more and deal with this "situation" later. But now that the case was over, it dawned to him that this is what he was trying to escape from. And the possibility to even find out whether he would want the child or not, whether he could be a good father or not, may just fly out of the window.
Sherlock almost cringed. Him? A father? And Irene as the mother? This child is better off dead. He and Irene couldn't even keep each other alive for more than 2 seconds of them being around each other. Something always happens.
Yes, he thought, the child was better off dead.
And yet, why was he dreading the thought of losing the baby?
As soon as he willed it, the doctor came out behind the double doors. "Where's the father?"
Sherlock snapped straight, his hands still trembling. "I... I'm here."
"Oh..." The doctor mused, realising who he was talking to. "Erm... Mr. Holmes. The baby and Ms. Adler are both safe. You can see them now."
Sherlock nodded, still in a trance. As if his company was not anywhere in sight, Sherlock walked straight with the doctor by his side. He could feel his insides turning, unable to shake off both the worry and relief he was feeling.
As soon as he saw Irene on the bed, her eyes meeting his, he saw her gaze on him light up. He walked over to her, reaching for her hand.
"Hey." Irene greeted with a smile. Sherlock replied with a silent nod.
"The bleeding was just caused by stress. I already issued medication to ensure for the missus and the baby." The doctor said.
Sherlock merely stared at him. The detective wanted to snap but his tongue was too caught up with his thoughts. Irene shook his hand and Sherlock absent-mindedly nodded. The doctor took his leave, giving out some final instructions that slipped Sherlock easily.
"Sherlock, are you alright?" Irene asked, squeezing his hand. "You look disappointed."
Sherlock opened his mouth but he said nothing. He saw the change in Irene's expression-from worry to annoyance. "Are you scared that the baby's fine?" Irene asked.
"It's not that. I'm scared that the... the baby will always be in danger." Sherlock admitted, his voice almost a whisper.
"Of course. And we would be terrible parents..." Irene replied, smiling. "I wouldn't blame you if you wouldn't want the burden."
Sherlock paused at that, confusion flickering in his face. Irene just looked at him, a complete blank stare that was almost haunting. "I just don't want know how I would feel about it. You do know that I usually think-not feel."
"Would you want to give it up?" Irene asked pointedly.
"I don't know." Sherlock simply answered.
"Why?"
"Because I just don't. This is something I didn't expect."
"Just like everything about us."
At Irene's reply, Sherlock smiled. His fingers trailed over her stomach, the memory of his dreams haunting him. "What do you think will it be like?"
"The baby or us being parents?" Irene asked as if they were just sorting out groceries.
"Both. Of course you are will be terrible at teaching the child how to behave... He or she will turn up absolutely devious, and of course, I can't bring the child to the cases I'll be handling, unless Graeme will allow it." Sherlock said.
"Graeme? Oh... You mean Greg." Irene mused, laughing.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Who the hell is Greg?"
Irene's grin grew wider. "You are pathetic." she said jokingly.
Sherlock leaned in, tucking away a loose strand of hair on Irene's face. "I know."
Irene held Sherlock's hand to her face and they just sat there in silence, both thinking of what the future might bring. Never had both of them felt so much doubt in themselves, the air of confidence fleeting in the wind.
"Will you let me stay this time?" Irene asked, breaking the silence.
Sherlock held her gaze, drinking in the depth of her stormy grey eyes. "I'll make sure there will be no reason to leave."
Irene led Sherlock's hand to her stomach and watched as Sherlock flinched. "We'll figure this out."
Sherlock finally smiled, "I know."