"Oh, can you shut him up please!" John snapped frustrated, Nurse Williams had picked up the tiny baby and was cradling him in her arms – despite this he was still howling at the pitch of his lungs. Sherlock was slightly taken aback at the ferocity in John's voice, but John had his back towards both him and Nurse Williams so he couldn't see the contortion of fear and frustration that was marring his face.

"I'm going to take him upstairs to be properly assessed by the paediatrician." She said, throwing a glance at Sherlock who nodded shortly at her.

"Fine, fine." John muttered, as though he wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying. If Harry hadn't been taken into surgery Sherlock was pretty sure that John would have wanted to go with his nephew and make sure the doctors did their job properly – it's strange how circumstances reshuffles your priorities.

There was a long silence in the room once Nurse Williams had gone, all Sherlock could see of John was his back as he stared out of the window. Occasionally John's hand raised up from his side to somewhere near his face – if Sherlock didn't know him better, he would probably have thought he was crying. Several times Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it pretty sharpish when he realised that every word that was coming into his mind would sound clichéd and insincere if he voiced them aloud.

"How didn't I notice anything?" John finally burst out with, as though he could no longer control the thoughts inside his own head; he began to pace up and down the far away side of the room with his fist clenched. "I should have seen – I should have thought of the complications of her bleeding earlier on!"

"There was no way of you being able to foresee this John." He replied and was correct in the thought that it did sound clichéd. "The doctors and midwife in here didn't even spot it, so how could you have?"

"I… I just should've!" John was still pacing furiously.

"Stop it John." Sherlock said firmly. "There was no way of you knowing anything, so stop putting blame onto yourself." John wrung his hands again in clear turmoil of the thoughts inside his mind.

"But… but I was with her the entire time! How could I not have noticed something was wrong?" Overwrought terror was pounding through John's chest, his mind flicking back to almost every instant and every moment that had unfolded this evening – how could he have not seen what was coming? He was a doctor – he was trained to spot this kind of thing!

"John, you did notice something was wrong… In the flat – you knew something was wrong and Harriet ignored you! You spotted the pre eclampsia, you knew before your doctor friend did – and you've done all in your path to make sure that everything is alright." Sherlock said to John sharply. "You couldn't anticipate her bleeding internally, there's a one in one hundred possibility and there was no way to know that Harriet would be that one…"

That was the truth… Sherlock knew it was – Harriet hadn't said anything about how she was feeling, so how on earth did John expect to know what was going on with her? Sherlock didn't like this kind of talk from John, mainly as it was so irrational… John wasn't a mind reader and if this had been any other patient he wouldn't be berating himself over one thing being missed; he would put it down to an unfortunate happening that could easily come out with a happy ending. But it also might not – and that unnerved him. What if the surgery went wrong? What if something happened? Sherlock was used to evaluating every eventuality just in case something might occur, but those thoughts he swept aside very quickly – it wouldn't do to think of the worst.

"Holy hell…" John muttered, stretching out his hand and leaning it on the window frame. "This isn't at all how I imagined today was going to go…" What was Sherlock supposed to say that? He felt increasingly awkward and uncomfortable in the room – he wished he could think of an excuse that would get him away, but that wasn't even a possibility… John would know he was lying. "I'm an uncle…" He ran his hands through his hair once more; he had done this so many times that his hair was standing on end, distinctly ruffled.

It felt like a lifetime – or at least an extraordinarily long stretch of time before John and Sherlock were informed of any news. And when it came, it was not appreciated… The corridor outside the room had been silent, not a footstep or a noise had broken in upon them since Nurse Williams had taken away the baby to be assessed. When the footsteps came, they brought the footsteps of doom along with them. Sherlock glanced at his watch when he heard the new noise, but instantly thought that it couldn't be anything to do with them – it had only been half an hour, there could be no news yet.

But it was news. The footsteps which they heard out in the corridor were being made by Kevin. For a long moment he stood in the doorway of the room, John still had his back to the door but the sense of presence was encompassing. Sherlock could see from the bearing of Kevin, and the demeanour on his face that said all of the thoughts he was carrying with him. The news he conveyed was the news that Sherlock was so accustomed to hear bandied about that it hardly even made him blink – but his insides had clenched with an apprehension. It was John's sister, and John himself who were involved here…

"John…" The weight and depth in Kevin's voice said more than he could ever articulate in words, but John still didn't turn round. "John, I'm so sorry."

"No, no…" John was trying to make his voice sound strong, but the quaver present in it was giving him away. "You go back in there and you bring her out!"

"John, we've tried – but she's been losing blood quicker than we can get it into her. We've been trying to revive her for over half an hour, but have been unsuccessful in our attempts." Sherlock was watching John's back and could see his ribcage expanding and contracting as he took rapid breaths to try and steady himself.

"There must be something else you can do?" John spoke, but the conviction was gone from his voice.

"I'm sorry John… she was losing more blood than we could ever hope to pump back into her. Even if we could revive her, her brain has been starved of oxygen for over half an hour…" Kevin trailed off. Sherlock stared at the doctor, of whom he was not acquainted, and wondered whether he broke bad news to other relatives in this manner, or whether John's medical knowledge was altering his technique. "We've called time of death; she's gone." There was silence; John finally turned round to face him, his eyes were dry, but the expression on his face showed that he had not accepted what Kevin was saying. He looked, for a second, like he might be about to attack Kevin, but he appeared to restrain himself.

"I want to see her." John broke the silence finally; Kevin nodded.

"They're just cleaning her up… you can see her shortly." He replied. John made no acknowledgement, but Kevin seemed to have taken his silence as compliance and he slowly backed out of the room. John stood stock still, Sherlock could see him almost visibly deflating; and for once, Sherlock had absolutely no idea what he could say to hiss friend, who had just lost the last part of his family…

A/N: I'd love to know what you think/feel about this chapter/story... I apologise for it taking me so long to update!