Chapter Three

"Is there anything else we can do?" Sherlock asked, John appeared to be floundering under the weight of the information that was being placed onto him very suddenly. "Anything else you need?" John stared at Sherlock – was it possible that John had somehow fallen asleep and was dreaming this whole situation? He pinched the edge of his knee to check if this hypothesis could possibly be true, but the sharp sting of pain made it clear that he was not dreaming.

"Right now, an aspirin would be much appreciated!" She said jokingly, taking another sip of her cup of tea; John noticed that as she raised the mug to her lips that her fingers seemed to be squished rather tightly into the space in the handle.

"Is everything alright?" John asked, unable to keep his medical interest out of the question.

"Yeah," She replied, "They're just either playing football, or ballet dancing rather vigorously." There was a smile on her face, with her hand pressed into her lower belly.

"Do you know?" John asked suddenly. "Whether it's a boy or a girl I mean…"

"No." She shook her head. "I decided that I'd keep it a surprise… Although I'm still following the Watson family tradition."

"I'll see if I can find you some aspirin." Sherlock muttered, standing up to excuse himself.

"It's alright Sherlock, I've got some upstairs – I'll fetch it." John told Sherlock, getting up from his own chair. He found some aspirin in one of the drawers of his bedroom cabinet and returned to the living room. "Here we go," John said to Harry, holding out the packet in means to pop a tablet out of the foil casing onto her hand, but as Harry held out her hand, John paused. "Have your hands always been like that Harry?" He asked, she held out both of her hands and looked at them in slight confusion.

"Like what?"

"Swollen…" He placed the aspirin down on the table beside her and bent down to look at his sister's hands. "They really are swollen Harry! Have they been like this all the way through the pregnancy?"

"Every pregnant woman gets swollen hands, my ankles are swollen too!" She laughed. "You must know that Johnny! It's only been in the past few days that it's gotten worse…" John was turning over his sister's hands, examining them minutely; then very suddenly he dropped right to his knees and pulled up Harry's trouser leg to see her ankles. "Johnny! What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He mumbled, clambering to his feet.

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, yeah… I'll just be back in a second." John agreed rather absent mindedly; John disappeared out of the room and Sherlock and Harry heard his footsteps clattering up the next floor, where his bedroom was. He came thundering back down an instant later, carrying with him a grey bag which Sherlock recognised as his medical bag – he rummaged in it and drew out a blood pressure cuff. "Can you roll up your sleeve?" He commanded, and Harry did as she was told with slight surprise at her brother's sudden change. John fastened the cuff around her left arm above her elbow and began to pump it up, staring intently at the number dial.

"What is it?" She asked, a slight undertone of worry present in her voice now.

"Your blood pressure is really high." John answered, removing the cuff from her arm. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Well…" She started slowly, pausing for a moment to consider her answer. "I'm not exactly the most comfortable… but that's to be expected, I am pregnant… if I didn't feel a bit like a beached whale then I'd be surprised!" She was attempting to be humorous, but the stern manner which was set into John's features was clearly unnerving her.

"Did your nurse say anything at your appointment?"

"She told me to take it easy… that I should be resting at the moment and not placing any extra stress on myself…" Harry responded, "I have been resting, but I'm moving flats soon and this isn't anything I'd ever thought would happen, so of course there is a little bit of stress on me." John was shuffling equipment back into his bag. "What? Johnny… You're scaring me a bit…"

"I'm just a little concerned about your blood pressure being that high if you're not doing anything." John bit his lip, he had been avoiding saying anything, but he had been a medic for too long, he couldn't stop that part of him taking over.

"I came here for you to be my moral support, not my doctor!" Harry said bluntly.

"I know, I know…" John brushed it aside, "But it's difficult not to look at things from a medical point of view when you're a doctor."

"Can I have that aspirin now?" She asked after a moments silence, but before John could even respond she had taken a sharp intake of breath and rubbed the top of her bump.

"What? What is it?" John jumped in quickly.

"Nothing John!" She sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. "God, if I thought you were going to stress about every little thing then I wouldn't have told you! Oh…"

"No seriously Harry, what is it?" John commanded.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, it's just Braxton hicks… the nurse told me that was perfectly normal!" Harriet responded.

"Already…? I thought you said you were only seven and a half months?" John questioned, standing back up from where he had been kneeling.

"I am."

"That's too early for Braxton Hicks Harriet… which hospital have you been going to?" There was no stopping John from turning on his medical brain and the concern in his voice was so obvious now that Sherlock had sat up in his chair and was paying attention.

"Hammersmith…" She answered, her face was beginning to look a little bit pink – whether from annoyance at John, or from something else, Sherlock was attempting to watch to decipher the signs.

"I think we should go to St. Barts and get you checked over…" John told her.

"Don't be so stupid! I'm fine!" Harry answered, placing down her mug which was now empty and pushed herself up from the chair. "I think it's time for me to head home." She stated.

"Do you want me to come home with you, to make sure you get home okay?" John offered.

"No thanks, I can manage on my own. I'm pregnant, not incapable." Harry insisted, zipping up her jacket to just underneath her chin.

"Okay…" John agreed rather reluctantly, "But you will keep in touch, yeah? Let me know if you need anything, or if anything happens."

"Of course I will!" She nodded, "You'll be sick of hearing from me soon enough! Thanks Johnny!" She gave John a tentative hug, then proceeded to leave. John stood watching her making her way down the stairs, then retook up his place at the bay window, watching for her emerging out onto the street.

"That's a fair turn up for the books…" He muttered quietly, twitching the curtains and looking down into the streetlamp glow. "I never in my life thought I'd see Harry pregnant… She was looking better though, much better than I've seen her in a long time." He was musing aloud more than directly speaking to Sherlock.

"There was something not quite right though." Sherlock broke in upon John's personal thoughts. "You should have stuck to your medical instincts." John dropped the curtain out of the grip of his fingers and turned to stare at Sherlock, who appeared to be minutely examining his fingernails.

"What?" He growled, "Why didn't you back me up when I was telling her we should go to the hospital?!"

"It wasn't my place to say anything." Sherlock replied placidly.

"It wasn't your place?!" John barked, "When has anything ever not been your place? Why choose now to respect the social niceties?"

"Well she is your sister; why would she listen to me over you?" Sherlock shrugged non-chalantly, John sighed heavily in slight annoyance at Sherlock and his double standards about certain topics.

"Maybe I should go after her… Insist that I take her to the hospital." John wondered aloud.

"She wouldn't go." Sherlock stated bluntly.

"How do you know?" John snapped.

"Because she's just as stubborn as you are, if not more!" Sherlock replied hotly, "Put yourself in her place, and no, she isn't going to go."

"Hmmm… You're maybe right." John murmured quietly.

Thump, thump, thump, thump! The noise startled both John and Sherlock who stared expectantly at the top of the staircase waiting for someone to enter, but no one appeared.

"Chap door run?" John suggested.

"I don't think so." Sherlock shook his head, getting up out of his armchair. "Come down." John followed him down the stairs, feeling his own nerves at a height of some tension as they crept down. Sherlock braced himself for a moment with his hand on the door handle and then pulled it open; John's heart, which had leapt into his throat, froze as the two of them stared out into the empty street.

"John-" A strangled croak came from down on the doorstep and John's eyes travelled down and fixed in horror upon Harry, who was on her knees, doubled over holding her bump. "John!" There was a quaver in her voice, "Something's wrong!" She held out her hand and there was blood all over her fingers.

"Oh god…" John couldn't prevent the words escaping his lips as he stooped down and secured his grip around Harry's arm. "Help me get her inside, Sherlock." Sherlock dutifully bent to help, and the two men helped Harriet inside and up the stairs; she was trembling severely as they placed her into an armchair. "Phone an ambulance Sherlock." John commanded, busying himself to help his sister.

"John… I'm losing it, aren't I?" She half sobbed; she was staring at the blood on her hand which was rapidly drying. John could feel his heart beating in his mouth, all the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end – how could he honestly answer that question?

"Not if I can help it." John told her firmly. "You need to let me examine you Harry, until the paramedics arrive." She nodded; her eyes were filling with tears. John helped her out of her jacket, fastening the blood pressure cuff around her arm once more and began to take a reading.

"Ambulance is on its way, should be here quickly. "Sherlock informed them, then he stood mutely for a few seconds. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You could take her pulse?" John requested and Sherlock took a hold of her wrist that John wasn't using to measure Harry's blood pressure.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, "John, it hurts… I… please don't let me lose it!" She pleaded, tears now spilling onto her cheeks and running down her face.

"Is the bleeding heavy Harry?" John asked, unfastening the cuff.

"I only realised when it was running down my leg…" She replied, her leggings were stained with the dark red liquid. "I'm not supposed to be bleeding! It means something bad is happening!" She wailed rather mournfully.

"What's her pulse Sherlock?" John asked.

"One hundred and thirty-three… her heart's racing." He answered.

"That's hardly unexpected!" At that moment they were broken in upon by a knock at the downstairs door and the call of;

"Hello? Paramedics?"

"We're up here!" Sherlock shouted and the thump of feet became present on the stairs, and two men came charging into the room. John had straightened up to greet them as they came into the room and inform them of what was happening.

"This is Harriet, thirty one years old, seven and a half months pregnant. She started bleeding fairly heavily about fifteen minutes ago. Her pulse is a hundred and thirty three and her blood pressure is 157 over 74." He said very curtly, and then in reply to the curious looks that the paramedics were giving him: "I'm a doctor."

"Alright Harriet, it's okay, we're going to do our best to help you." One of the paramedics had bent down to speak to her. "We want to take you in to get checked over, do you think you can walk down the stairs and out into the ambulance?"

"Yes." Harry whispered weakly, and with John on one arm and one of the paramedics on the other, they helped Harry out of the armchair. Harry was shaking so much that John was convinced she was about to drop down in a faint at any moment, so he tightened his grip upon her arm. While the paramedic who had assisted in helping Harriet down the stairs strapped her into the chair, the other paramedic asked: "Are you the father?"

"Uuuh… no, I'm her brother." John replied rubbing the back of his head, his eyes were focussed on Harry. This was all happening so fast – a couple of hours ago none of this had been in his knowledge at all…

"Do you want to come with her to the hospital? We can take one person in the ambulance." He offered.

It was one of those moments that Sherlock instantly knew how to react, he took a step backwards and shoved John forwards.

"Sherlock, will you come behind us?" John requested lowly as he climbed into the back of the ambulance.

"I'll follow you in a taxi." He nodded, he hadn't underappreciated the seriousness of what was going on, and the tone of fear that was rife in John's voice.

"Can you take us to St. Barts, please?" John asked the paramedic, "It's just I have colleagues who work there and I'd rather her be seen by one of them…"

"Yeah, of course. I'll just close the door now and get on our way." He slammed the door of the ambulance closed, then ran round the side of the vehicle to jump in the driver's seat.

Sherlock watched as the ambulance started to move, lights flashing and sirens blaring along the deserted road before turning back into 221B.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He yelled, unhooking his coat from the peg which it hung upon near the door.

"What is it Sherlock?" She came bustling out of the entrance of her flat, looking slightly put out at having been called upon. "Did I see paramedics here? What's going on?"

"John's sister has been taken to hospital." Sherlock informed her.

"Oh dear… she did look rather uncomfortable when I let her in! Is there anything I can do to help?" She patted Sherlock's forearm as though he needed comforting, as he fastened several of the buttons on the front of his long coat.

"Breakfast in the morning would be great." Sherlock tried on the off chance, knowing the response he was about to get.

"I'm not your housekeeper Sherlock." She said, then her face softened. "I'll see what I can do. Are you going after them?" Sherlock nodded. "What hospital have they taken her to?"

"St. Barts." Sherlock answered. "John knows quite a few people who work in there, so he wanted her to go there."

"Alright, well – you give them my best wishes, will you Sherlock?"

"I will do, Mrs. Hudson."

A/N: I'd love to know what you think of this chapter, any criticism/feedback would be much approved of!