"Everything ready for you to take Innes home to?" Dr. Harper asked a very tense John on Friday morning, when he appeared at the ward carrying a car seat with him.
"Oh don't get him started or we'll be here for another few hours." Sherlock commented warningly, as John didn't seem able to open his mouth, his jaw was clenched so tightly shut.
"Are you worrying about taking Innes home?" Dr. Harper asked, ignoring the warning that Sherlock had just given.
"Just a little bit." John said, his hands twitching on the handle of the new car seat. After the delivery from Sherlock's mother there had come two other deliveries: one containing several items that John would need, like bottles, a steriliser and a car seat; and the other from the local supermarket, with baby milk and nappies.
"You don't need to be worried at all; you've got as much support as you need here. The community nurse will be dropping in every now and then just to check on Innes; progress, you know his weight and everything, but if you've got any concerns or questions then you can always fire us them and we'll do our best to help." He told John reassuringly.
"Thanks." John murmured.
"The nurse was just doing a last feed and changing in here, and then he'll be all yours!" He said brightly.
John had been in a state of continual panicked terror for the past two days, Sherlock was pretty convinced that John hadn't slept during that time – which seemed irresponsible because as soon as Innes got home, he wouldn't be getting very much sleep at all. Sherlock was sure that John was attempting to put on a brave face when inside he had no idea what on earth to do.
"We've gotten very used to Innes on the ward, it'll be sad to see him leaving, but I'm glad that he's going to a wonderful home with a fantastic uncle to look after him." Dr. Harper told John. "He's very lucky…"
"Not as lucky as he would be if he still had Harry."
"But he has you… and that's better than if he had no one."
"I guess." John agreed as they were led towards the cot which had been Innes'. The cot was empty as Dr. Harper had said it would be, and the two of them took the seats still next to it.
"I've got some paperwork for you to sign, just to confirm the discharge of Innes." Dr. Harper told John, and went off to find those papers that John would have to sign. John was moving restlessly in the chair, seemingly not able to get comfortable. Sherlock wanted to say something, something comforting, but the only words that came into his mind would come across as exasperated, not comforting.
"Here we go." The nurse had brought back Innes and placed him into John's arms the moment that John had laid down the car seat. Innes was still smaller than most babies, but he seemed remarkably alert now. His blue eyes stared up at his uncle and he seemed to be much more aware of his surroundings now.
"And here are the papers." Dr. Harper announced, returning just moments after Innes had been settled into John's arms.
"Right, okay…" John mumbled, and began settling Innes into the car seat and strapping him in securely. He then took the clipboard with the paper from the doctor and looked down at them, it was an order of discharge form, and all it really required was his signature, yet his hand was trembling to much that the signed name barely looked legible. He handed it back to Dr. Harper, who smiled widely and said:
"Well then, you're free to go."
"Thank you." John said, and Sherlock could hear the sincerity in his voice. "Thank you for everything that you've done."
The first few hours of having Innes at home in flat 221B were utterly surreal for John; just the mere presence of the baby had turned John into a quivering wreck. Innes had fallen asleep on the car journey back and John seemed to be watching him very intently, as though consciously checking that he was still breathing. Sherlock found this indulgence of John's rather boring, and he had to hold his tongue – these were the first hours of John's new life and Sherlock was not in any position to dictate the terms of it. After three hours of John staring at the baby, refusing to engage in conversation and not allowing the tv to be turned on in case of waking Innes, Sherlock retired to his bedroom. He wondered how long John could keep this up, whether he would settle in to his role of parent over the next few days, surely over time he would get used to the worries which right now seemed to be overcoming him.
Sherlock heard John's footsteps several times during that evening, accompanied by the screaming of Innes. Sherlock considered going and offering to help, but he doubt that John would let him. Give it a few days, Sherlock thought, then he'll be asking for help.
Morning dawned at 7:45am, as Innes began to wail for what seemed like the twelfth time in one night to Sherlock; as efficient as he was in coping while deficient in sleep, the punctuations throughout the entire night were not most conducive to getting any kind of rest. John's face mirrored this feeling as Sherlock entered the living room to find John with a bottle feeding Innes in one hand and his eyes shut as though trying to remain in a gentle doze.
"Morning." Sherlock greeted John, whose eyes snapped open the moment Sherlock spoke.
"Hi." John replied blearily.
"Sleep well?" Sherlock joked, and John grunted in response. "Would you like some tea?"
"Please…!" John answered enthusiastically, adjusting his elbow to make sure that Innes was able to get the last of the milk in the bottle. "I had hoped that he might have slept a bit more than he did…"
"He is a baby, that is what he is meant to do… you know? Wake up, cry, eat, shit and sleep." Sherlock responded and John frowned at him. "Maybe his first night away from what he's been used to in the hospital might have shaken him up a bit…" Sherlock tried to sound hopeful, "Maybe he'll settle down tonight."
"I hope…" John mumbled, placing the nearly empty baby bottle on the armchair and propped the baby up on his knee to rub his back and burp him. "I bet you he sleeps all day…" John said, "Maybe I should do that, if he's so intent on being up most of the night."
"Here we go." Sherlock placed the cup of tea down on the table next to John; John was now stroking the fine hairs on Innes' head which seemed to be a soothing motion for them. John settled Innes into his baby chair and placed him in front of the tv, today wasn't a day for activities and so he turned it onto one of the kid's channels and let Innes be absorbed by the bright colours and soothing sounds until he fell asleep bouncing in the chair. John himself kept continually dropping into a doze, and his head jerked up waking him up.
Around twelve Clara turned up at the flat, John had not been expecting to see her, but it was a nice surprise when she appeared. She unfastened Innes from his baby seat and picked him up, almost as though this was completely natural – she seemed to have gotten over her absolute terror of Innes, and now was able to cope with being around him. She bounced him upon her knee, playing with him.
"Is everything alright?" John asked, once she had settled down on the sofa.
"Yeah, yeah, of course!" She replied, "I just thought I'd come and see Innes now that he's at home and congratulate you on your successful adoption!"
"Thanks." John smiled at her, "Would you like a cup of tea? I'm just about to put the kettle on to heat up Innes' next bottle, he should be due a feed pretty shortly."
"Yeah, that'd be lovely." Sure enough, as John had predicted, he could hear Innes getting a little bit grizzly in the time that it took for the kettle to boil; he placed the bottle in a glass bowl and poured hot water in surrounding it (he had decided this way was probably safer than the microwave, because he wasn't sure whether Sherlock had cleaned it out properly since he had last microwaved human fingers!). He carried the cup of tea and the bottle through at the same time, and was about to take Innes from Clara when she protested:
"I'll give him it, you'll be used to doing it all the time, it'll be one less for you to do today." She took the bottle.
"Thanks." He accepted the offer gratefully and watched her as she pressed the tip of the bottle gently against Innes' cheek and he turned towards the bottle, mouth obediently open.
"How did you get him to do that?" John asked suddenly; the past few feeds he had had to wrestle with Innes before he could get the bottle into his mouth, a considerable volume of milk had ended up dribbling down his chin.
"It's an instinctive response." Clara explained. "When a baby is hungry all you have to do is brush their cheek and they turn to face the direction of what brushed them with their mouth open." True to her word, Innes had immediately latched onto the teat of the bottle and began sucking instantly.
"I'll have to remember that." John muttered, wishing that he had the memory capacity of Sherlock to lock and store useful pieces of information.
"There's something else…" Clara said after a few minutes of no sound apart from Innes sucking on the bottle. "I've arranged the funeral." This statement was met with a very echoing silence.
"When?" John eventually found his voice.
"Wednesday." She answered quietly. "I… I wanted to ask if you would mind me telling some of Harry's friends?"
"Of course!" John replied enthusiastically, "I want as many people to be there, I want as many people to celebrate her…"
"Thank you." Clara smiled, "Will you bring Innes?" She asked, as Innes finished the last dregs of the milk in the bottle.
"How could I not? He's Harry's son… he has as much right to be there as anyone else, even if he's only a month old."
"Good. Harry would have wanted him there." Clara agreed.
"Where abouts is it?" John questioned.
"At Highgate crematorium, 1 o'clock ." She responded promptly.
"Thank you Clara, for sorting out all the arrangements, it's been… it's been a great help."
"I wanted to do it, for Harry."
A/N: As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter/story so far! :)