A Gift and A Curse

Chapter 3

He didn't say anything.

Absolutely nothing.

Not one word.

Neither of them did.

It was just silence.

God awful silence.

He hadn't pulled away in disgust yet, which Jane thought was a good sign but he'd still neglected to jump up and down in joy and go running out of Baker Street banging one of the lids of Mrs. Hudson's bins, shouting that he was going to be a father.

But then again, it would be more likely for Sherlock to get pregnant than for him to do that. But Jane was alright with that, perfectly and absolutely fine with that.

His hand remained on hers. She could feel the warmth emanating from those beautifully talented fingers. She wanted more than anything to grab him, hold onto him and never let go.

She wanted him to hold her tightly back and whisper that everything was going to be alright and there was no need to worry but he didn't. He just breathed and blinked and then simply asked:

"Are you sure?"

Jane nodded, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks once again. "I've missed one cycle and I've just completed a test, I have the typical symptoms."

Sherlock remained quiet after that, he just stared down at their hands. Then, he rose and Jane reluctantly let go of his hand. And, without another word he walked out of the living room and down the stairs. She heard Mrs. Hudson's voice echo from downstairs and the front door slam closed.

Jane still hadn't taken her eyes off Sherlock's chair; her tears no longer fell and no longer threatened to as a white hot rage built inside her. Rage and betrayal. That's what she felt. She had needed him and he had just walked out of the door.

'You see,' Harry's voice mocked. 'You see what he did? You honestly expect him to want to raise a child with you? My God you are an idiot, aren't you? No wonder he just walked out of the door.'

She closed her eyes and clutched the sides of her chair with a death grip. There was only one man she could turn to for…help. She pulled her mobile out of her pocket and dialled a 'blocked' number.

"Mycroft. We need to talk. Pick me up."

She didn't wait for his reply and she abruptly ended the phone call. Mrs. Hudson had decided to appear in the room just as Jane pulled herself up from the chair and shoved on her military jacket.

She tied her hair back in a pony tail as she spoke briskly. "I'm going out. I don't know how long I'll be." She stuffed her keys, phone and purse into the various pockets in her jacket.

Jane tried to get past Mrs. Hudson but the older woman grabbed Jane's arm. "Jane, please, don't do anything crass."

"Oh believe me, that's already been done. This is just the aftermath." Jane pulled her arm away from the strong grip and hurried down the stairs before Mrs. Hudson could say anything else.

As she expected, a black BMW had pulled up on the curb. Jane got inside and glanced out of the blacked out window to see Mrs. Hudson standing at the doorway on the verge of tears.

Jane kept her head down staring at the dry mud on her black Doc Martens. She spent the rest of the journey through London tracing the pattern of her shoe laces and tapping nervously on the leather seat next to her.

They pulled up the Diogenes Club which Jane was mildly surprised about as she more expected the car to pull up to another warehouse. Unphased, she burst out of the car door and up the steps of the Diogenes. She was greeted by a mildly surprised doorman, which she also ignored and headed straight for the Strangers' Room.

She burst through the door without knocking and saw Mycroft sat at his desk, concentrating on whatever he was writing. Behind her the abused doorman spoke up,

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir. But there was no stopping her, if you want I can call security –"

Mycroft didn't look up from his writing, instead he just waved a hand in the general direction of the doorman, which silenced the man immediately and he took it as his cue to leave.

Jane seated herself opposite Mycroft at the other side of his desk. The two sat in silence for a few minutes as Mycroft finished writing. Jane took that time to study her baby's uncle.

He was still wearing a grey three piece suit but he'd placed his jacket on the back of the chair and had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his waistcoat. He wore glasses at the end of his nose, which seemed to make him look more intimidating than he already was.

Eventually Mycroft put down his pen and placed his glasses on the desk. "Doctor Watson, I hope that you have a valid reason for this meeting as I have had to call off a meeting with the French Ambassador –"

"I'm pregnant."

Mycroft's mouth remained slightly open, which for Mycroft must have been an extremely undignified gesture. Which he rectified immediately.

"Well…I suppose congratulations are in order. Forgive me for asking such a…personal question but –"

"Yes, Sherlock is the father. Yes, I have told him and no, he did not take it very well. He just walked out of the flat."

"Ah…I can see why that would be upsetting for you but you must understand that my brother falters with his emotions."

"Oh trust me, his emotions were not faltering when we conceived it."

There was a slight blush on Mycroft's cheeks which made Jane feel a sense of triumph at surprising Mycroft Holmes and making him blush.

"Well I don't see how I could possibly help you. Surely this matter is between yourself and my brother."

"What options do I have?"

"With regards to what, Jane? I'm afraid I don't see how I could be of service to you. Alas, this was not really a matter I anticipated."

"Oh please, Mycroft. You know as well as I do Sherlock and I are not suitable parents. As soon as this child was conceived its life is now in danger. It will be used as a way to get to us. For a start there's Moran to contend with, Moriarty may be dead but Moran is alive and kicking around somewhere. And you and I both know...Sherlock's not exactly...father material. Now tell me, what options do I have?"

Mycroft leant back in his chair and placed his hands under his chin. Jane was slightly disturbed at the realisation of how similar Mycroft looked to Sherlock when they adopted similar poses.

Mycroft rang his tongue over his teeth and looked at Jane with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension.

"As far as I can see Jane, you have three options. The first is that you go through with the pregnancy and put the child up for adoption, which I personally advice against as you will most likely develop an unconscious relationship with the child and therefore it will be more difficult to give it up. The second option is that you go through with the pregnancy, keep the child and I arrange a safe house for you to live in until this business with Moran is over."

Mycroft paused, he frowned slightly.

"What is the third?" Jane asked, already knowing what he was going to say.

"I take you to a clinic and you have an abortion." He said emotionlessly.

Jane looked at Mycroft, silently wishing he'd make the decision for her. Impossible of course but it was a slightly comforting idea while it lasted. Jane looked down at her hands, she knew which one she had to pick. For all three of them.

"The third," She murmured. "I choose the third."