John awoke to the painful reminder of the injuries of his body and the fact that any meds wore off hours ago while he slept. The warmth of a sleeping Sherlock pressed against his back felt nice but did not help the discomfort much. Glancing toward the clock, he was only slightly surprised to find his pills and some water waiting on the nightstand, and reached to take them without delay. John was however, quickly embarrassed to find he was still clutching the papers from last night, even more so when he realized Sherlock had seen him with them. As quietly as he could John smoothed the papers out, folded them in half, and slid them under his pillow. He would deal with them later. Swallowing his pills at last, John lay back against the pillow to give them some time to work before he attempted to get up.
Laying there in the quiet allowed John's thoughts to drift dangerously close to the despair of last night. Viciously determined not to revisit those thoughts and emotions, John chose instead to distract himself by watching Sherlock sleep. Watching was never enough in these quiet moments however, the urge to touch, to share the sensation of the other's skin had only grown stronger after the bond. The steady rise and fall of his breathing calmed John as he gently stroked his thumb over the soft lower lip and felt the warmth of each exhale. John reveled in the freedom to know Sherlock like this yet still never quite believed he deserved the beautiful man he was bound to. Reaching up he brushed soft curls away from the pale brow before placing a feather-light kiss there. Sherlock only wrinkled his nose and twitched an eyelid then settled to sleep again. John was glad he hadn't woken him. He noticed the dark circles were still present but the lines of tension around Sherlock's eyes were relaxed in sleep. John could imagine the hours Sherlock had pushed himself through waiting for him to wake in the hospital and would not deny the rest he so badly needed now. John eased onto his back and slightly away from Sherlock so he wouldn't disturb him. John was resigned to his thoughts once more turning over the past few days.
As much as John was a man of deeply held emotions and passions, he was also a practical man. He would heal and life would go on for them as before. John wanted to be the steadfast soldier protecting Sherlock at every turn, not the little missus at home with the babies. John tried to tell himself that a child really wouldn't have been practical with their lifestyle so surely what happened was for the best. John didn't believe it but kept telling himself this anyway. Regardless, there was no child to worry about now so John decided he would not dwell on it. He wouldn't think about it, certainly wouldn't talk about it….he would just move on. The faster he could forget about the whole thing and get on with his life with Sherlock the better. John didn't bother, of course, to consider Sherlock's thoughts or feelings when he made this decision. Sherlock had barely even mentioned the child to John so he assumed it was not important to him. It was simply a matter of John's recovery and would be dealt with as such. These were the thoughts that occupied his mind and John was sure he was making the best choice for the both of them.
If the subtle shift in the bed beside him hadn't alerted John that Sherlock was awake he might have been startled by the brilliant blue-green eyes he found staring intently back at him. "Good morning love," Sherlock smiled.
John smiled in return and tried to suppress the tremor he always got from that gorgeous baritone husky with sleep. "Good morning to you. S'pose you can help me up now you lazy git?" John couldn't resist winking cheekily at Sherlock.
Sherlock merely smirked as he got out of bed and came round to help John up. "I trust you slept well enough as you feel up to harassing me this morning. Did you have your medicine?"
"Yes I did, on both counts. Thank you." John answered simply, making no reference to the papers or last night. Getting up or down was the slowest and most uncomfortable part of healing. Nothing for it but to bear it thought John as he eased himself up to stand in front of Sherlock. "Thanks love. Think I can manage the loo without you though," a quick kiss on the lips and John was off to the bathroom.
Sherlock glanced around the room then at the bed deducing before lifting up John's pillow and finding the pages folded there. Sherlock had thought John would want to talk this morning. While not his personal strong suit, everyone was always telling him it was better to get things out than to bottle them up. He knew from experience that, while John would often want to talk, he also would often keep things to himself until he did blow up in a fit of anger. Sherlock thought they had made progress in their communications with each other after his return and their bonding, however this situation was unlike any they had faced before. Sherlock wasn't sure how to proceed but he knew he would have to try to encourage John to talk eventually. Leaving the pages as they were, Sherlock moved on to the kitchen to start the morning tea. John will feel more like talking after his tea, thought Sherlock.
Thirty minutes later found them in their usual chairs sipping their tea and munching on some toast. Sherlock, deciding John was likely as relaxed as he would get, broached the subject he felt he needed to, for John's sake.
"John?"
In return he received a lazy "Mmm..?"
"Did you want to talk?" Sherlock gestured between he and John. "About us? About everything that has happened?" He paused waiting for a response. When all he received was a blank stare he continued, "I know you usually want to talk about these things….so I just want you to know I am here. To talk. If you want to." Sherlock stumbled a bit over the last as John just continued to stare.
John had tensed as soon as the question left Sherlock's lips. These things thought John, right...sticking to his plan. "What exactly would I need to talk about Sherlock? The anniversary? Yes that hurt a bit but it's over and done. Not exactly surprising for you so no sense dwelling on it. The accident? Just another accident, same old injuries to heal, a bit rubbish actually but there it is."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he took in John's face and demeanor. He could not believe John had just brushed everything off like that. It wasn't normal for John and Sherlock knew it, but John's face was a mask right now, giving nothing away for Sherlock to go on. Being Sherlock, he pushed.
"Injuries?! Accident?! John you lost a child!" he blurted out. "Our child." he added softly. "This isn't just any other thing you have to heal from."
John took a deep breath. He did not want to do this! Wanting this conversation over quickly John replied, "Yes Sherlock. I lost a child. A child we didn't plan for. A child that wouldn't fit in our lives and work anyway. Perhaps the accident was just the cosmos taking care of a mistake!" John couldn't meet Sherlock's eyes as he said it nor could he get rid of the sick feeling in his heart and gut at the words. He had to do it. He couldn't keep rehashing this over and over and there were only so many tears he could cry.
Sherlock stared at John in absolute shock at his words. He knew John would never treat this so callously and couldn't understand why he had done so. "John? You can't really believe that? That's not you John. I know you and I know your heart…..talk to me."
John huffed in frustration, "Look Sherlock, I've said my peace and I really don't want to talk about this any more. If you wouldn't mind helping me out of this chair I will go rest until lunch."
Sherlock moved on auto-pilot to help John, gripping his forearm before his mind fully caught up with John's words. "But John..?"
"NO Sherlock! I said no! Now leave me alone!" John turned his back to Sherlock and made his way to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Retrieving the papers from under his pillow, John opened the drawer with his socks and pants, slid them into the back of the drawer and covered them up. With a final touch and a whispered "I'm sorry", John sought to put the child firmly into his past.
The botched conversation set the tone for the next few weeks. Sherlock going out of his way to help John in every way he possibly could. Per Mycroft's instructions at the hospital, Sherlock was doing everything he could think of to show John how much he meant to him. John's healing was his entire focus for the present, he wasn't even working. He still subtly encouraged John to talk about things but after being soundly told off a couple of times he no longer brought the conversation up directly. He even sought advice from Ms Hudson, "Give him time Sherlock." And Lestrade, "You know John, he'll talk when he's ready. Or blow a gasket one." Sherlock was perhaps more frustrated than he had been in years but he kept trying and continued being there for John.
John for his part found he had thoughts of their child every single day. No matter what he did to distract himself the thoughts and sorrows would come. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to talk to Sherlock. Instead he focused on his healing and his growing frustration with Sherlock. The man was smothering him more than he ever thought was possible. He barely got a moment alone except when he was resting or going to the bathroom and sometimes even That was questionable.
So they continued at cross purposes, frustrations simmering just beneath the surface.
By the end of the first week John wanted to scream. Sherlock was treating him like a porcelain doll in need of kid gloves and the greatest of care. John appreciated that Sherlock cared but he wasn't some delicate flower. Sherlock was treating him the way he was always afraid of being treated if it was known he was an Omega, like he was helpless and had to be taken care of. He started to feel like he was trapped in some alternate world and the walls of the flat were closing in on him. The sense of claustrophobia was profound. John chuckled darkly, funny he thought, he had never been claustrophobic before.
John got a small reprieve the second week. First he started going to the physical therapy appointments. Mostly exercises and stretching to assure he regained his full range of motion as the rib fractures healed. The therapy was a pain but it got him out of the house. Secondly John harassed Greg until he found some cases Sherlock could work on from home. Sherlock still refused to leave John alone but the cases took some of his intense focus off of John for a while. At least John felt he could breathe easier. The healing was progressing well. John could manage to get himself up and down without too much strain now and moved about the flat easily. He was constantly sore however as his bruising finished coming to the surface and then began the slow process of fading. When he showered he thought he looked like a painted man, there were so many shades of purple, blue, red, green, and yellow across his body now. The other bleeding had practically stopped but the gnawing ache of his abdomen let John know all was not healed there yet either.
By the third week, he did scream at Sherlock. "Take a damn case Sherlock! Get out of this fucking flat and leave me in peace before we both go mad!" Sherlock was taken aback by John's outburst and thought to argue at first. However, he actually was getting bored at home and John knew it. The instinct to take care of and protect John was still strong but Sherlock could tell John needed space. As soon as Lestrade texted with a new case the next week, Sherlock was off.
Of course without Sherlock's presence in the flat John found himself far too alone with his thoughts. Not for the first time John found himself in the bedroom with the papers back in his hands. Why couldn't he put it all behind him? Why couldn't he let this go? John pondered his thoughts and feelings for a time until the emotions threatened to overwhelm him again. John purposely put the papers back, shut the drawer firmly and left the flat for the first time in weeks on his own to take a short walk.
The fresh air and freedom was a balm to John's bruised spirit. He didn't intend to over do it though and headed toward the small park nearby. Upon reaching the park John found an empty bench under a shady tree and sat to rest. The weather was quite warm for April with a steady breeze still blowing but it did not deter the many people like John who were anxious for the outdoors. He entertained himself watching the other park goers strolling about, playing games, having picnics, sailing toy boats, and feeding the ducks. A young Omega pushing a pram approached John, indicating the other end of the bench she asked, "Do you mind if I sit here?"
John shook his head no and she took her seat with a tired sigh. "It feels so good just to sit sometimes doesn't it?" she asked, pulling a sandwich and pack of crisps out of her bag and digging in. John readily agreed, "Oh yes, definitely," and smiled back at her. "Doctor John Watson," he offered as he held out his hand.
"Oh.." quickly brushing her hand off on her jeans, "Sally Horwell. Pleased to meet you Doctor Watson." A shrill cry from the pram demanded her attention. Reaching over to lift out the baby she chuckled and said, "And this is Christian. He is a greedy little bugger who thinks mom shouldn't get to eat without him!"
John chuckled as she settled the baby on her lap and continued to eat with one hand. Christian remained quiet for a few moments taking in his surroundings with curiosity. As the nearest thing to him the babe became fixated on John rather quickly. John just smiled and continued to chat with Sally. When Christian realized he still didn't have any food however he started to fuss. "Alright, alright….just hold on a minute young man," Sally spoke as she reached blindly for the bag and the bottle of formula there. Unfortunately she knocked the bag off of the bench instead. "Oh...bugger! I just...I'm sorry Doctor, would you mind taking him for just a second while I get this?"
John didn't give a thought to his reply, "It's John. And no I don't mind." Taking the fussy bundle from his mom John tucked him expertly into the crook of his arm, gave him a finger to grasp, and began talking gibberish to soothe the baby while Sally retrieved the bag and bottle. It only took a moment for John's mind to catch up with what he was doing and realize how natural it felt. Only a fraction of a second brought the realization of how much he enjoyed it, followed swiftly by just how much he wanted it. When it finally occurred to him to wonder how it would have felt to hold his own child (their child) like this, John was lost.
When Sally had picked up everything from the spilt bag, returned it to the bench and retrieved the bottle, she was alarmed to find John looking wistfully at Christian with tears on his cheeks. "John..?" she questioned anxiously as she reached for her son. "What's wrong?"
John only became aware he was crying when Sally reached for the baby. He cursed himself and the unreasonable reluctance he felt to give the baby back. "I'm sorry," he said softly, passing the baby over, "I lo….I lost mine recently. My first...probably my only." Quickly wiping the stray tears away, he smiled to reassure her he wasn't some lunatic.
Sally was surprisingly sympathetic, placing a warm hand on John's forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze she merely said, "It's okay John." Then she gave Christian his bottle.
That was all, no questions, no pressure, no pity, just acceptance. John didn't think he had ever felt so relieved as that moment. Even when he wasn't saying anything John still felt the pressure from Sherlock to talk about everything, but especially the baby. He hadn't even realized that he felt that way nor how tense he had been because of it. They sat in silence while Christian ate and John relaxed. When it was time to burp him Sally kindly offered, "Would you like to do it?"
John thought for today he should limit further baby holding. Shaking his head he replied kindly, "No. Thank you for offering but I think I should pass."
Sally nodded in understanding and continued burping Christian, finally speaking once she returned the bottle to its owner. "Do you need to talk about it," she asked quietly, still focused on the baby.
John found that the question surprised him. First that he did not resent it and second because she said need. Not, did he want to talk about it but did he need to talk about it. John shocked himself when he replied, "Yes. I think I do."
So slowly, with halting words John began to tell this woman he barely knew his story. She listened attentively, nodded sympathetically, and joined with John when the tears fell again. When the story finished, Christian was asleep in the pram and John found he felt much lighter than he had when he left the apartment today. Offering John a clean burp cloth to wipe his eyes Sally merely said, 'Well John, it sounds like you have been through quite a lot."
John chuckled as he took the burp cloth and agreed, "Yes, I guess I have." Wiping his face dry John shook his head. "I haven't spoken to anyone about this in nearly a month, not even my mate. I can't believe I just sat here and told a veritable stranger the whole mess!"
Sally just shrugged, "No expectations. You don't have to tailor your responses to what you think I will expect you to say or feel so you're truthful and that is more cathartic for you. Easy peasy." She smiled at John's stunned expression.
"You know, I think you are exactly right! Thank you," John exclaimed with an answering smile. He hadn't been worried that he was thinking or feeling the way anyone else thought he should be about everything...whether it was right or proper. He was just honest and she had listened without judgement.
Sally gave John a serious look, "The question then is what now? You've faced how you really feel about the accident, the loss…...children. What do you do now?"
John didn't have an answer yet. "Well, still healing and such. Can I get back to you on that one?"
Sally actually laughed causing John to smile. "Certainly John, you can find Christian and I in my office here everyday from one to three roughly. Barring rain of course."
John laughed at her wit and replied in kind, "Well perhaps I should get your number in case alternate appointment arrangements need to be made?"
"Yes I think that may be necessary as well," replied Sally holding out her hand for John's phone.
This was the moment John realized he hadn't brought his phone out with him. "I'm so sorry Sally. I only went for a short walk and left my phone at home."
Sally simply shrugged again, "Well give me your number and I can call your phone. No problem."
John gave her his number and then thought to check the time. He was startled to find he had spent the better part of two hours talking to Sally and he didn't even feel tired yet. Still he knew he should get home, it would be time for dinner and meds soon. Nevermind the fact that Sherlock had probably already tried to check in on him several times. John groaned inwardly and cursed himself for forgetting the phone. Making his farewell to Sally and Christian, with a promise to see them again at the park sometime this week, John headed home as quickly as he could.
John heard low mumbling with an occasional growl and rapid pacing as soon as he set foot on the bottom of the stairs. Sherlock. Shaking his head, John made his way up the stairs to deal with his wound up mate. Sherlock of course heard him before he even made it up to the flat.
"John! Are you okay?! Where have you been?! What happened?!" Sherlock practically drug John the rest of the way into the flat, frantically checking him over for any injuries, even looking behind John for potential dangers that could be lurking there before bolting the door firmly for safety.
Great, thought John. Sherlock's Alpha was riled up again. Adopting the most placating manner he could, John pressed himself next to Sherlock, nuzzled into his neck and scented their bond mark. The Alpha let out a soft growl but calmed as Sherlock put his arms around John and scented his mark in return.
"I'm really sorry Sherlock. I didn't mean to worry you at all. I only went for a short walk to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. But I lost track of time sitting at the park, and I guess I forgot my phone since I've hardly needed it for weeks. Truly, I'm sorry I've worried you." He didn't bother pointing out that Sherlock could have just had Mycroft check with the security detail he knew followed them everywhere, best not to poke the Alpha's pride just now. John had basically been talking to Sherlock's chest but pulled back to look him in the eyes as he finished.
Sherlock's sharp gaze raked over John's face, taking in his sincerity and the refreshing absence of all the tension John carried around these past weeks. Once assured that John was indeed fine, Sherlock released John's waist only to cup his face in both hands and press a firm kiss to his lips. " I am very glad you are okay John. I'm sure you understand that I would prefer you to always take your phone when you leave the flat. But perhaps now you can tell me what you were doing with a blonde and a baby during lunch?"
John didn't bother being surprised. "How?" he asked with a smile.
"Hair on your shoulder, formula and spit on your jacket, bread and chip crumbs on your pants, faint scent of perfume." Sherlock rattled off his findings as usual even surprising John who didn't realize Christian had spit up while he was holding him.
John moved them toward the sofa as he replied. "Very good. You got everything right. I'll tell you all about it but first you tell me, did you solve the case already?"
"Of course not John," Sherlock exclaimed. "You wouldn't answer your phone or text! I had to make sure you were alright! I had to John! It's my job as your mate and I couldn't fail you again! I just couldn't! I had to be sure!"
John was completely stunned by Sherlock's outburst. He was starting to realize that perhaps Sherlock had suffered more than he had thought from recent events. Not just today either, but everything from the anniversary on.. John was beside Sherlock in a heartbeat, wrapping his arms around him and rubbing his back. "Shh….it's okay Sherlock, calm down. You did fine, you didn't fail me. You could never fail me. I'm just so sorry I made you worry."
They stayed that way until Sherlock had calmed. When John pulled back to look him in the eye, Sherlock sheepishly apologised. "I am sorry John. I seem to have gotten carried away. It's happening a lot with you lately and I can't seem to control it. It is quite distracting"
John smiled, "Well we both knew bonding was a mystery when we decided to do it, different for every couple. We knew it would bring about some changes we couldn't expect or prepare for at the outset. I suppose your instincts becoming stronger is one of those things, and it's not bad either. I know I complain but honestly….I kind of like it. At least part of me does," he added that qualifier quickly at the last.
Sherlock cocked his brow and gave John a crooked smirk, "Oh Really! Tell me then, what has changed for you?"
John had to think for a moment. They had both spent so many years denying their natural instincts that their bodies were still playing catch-up. John still couldn't bring himself to confess his true feelings about children to Sherlock. It felt too much like acknowledging a weakness. At last he came up with a reply, "The need to have you near is stronger than it ever was before. I am calmer and more content….happier, when you are next to me." Catching Sherlock's gaze he made one intimate confession, "Even in the hospital….before I woke up, I was aware of your presence beside me. I recognized your scent and it grounded me in the darkness…..calmed me. It...it helped."
Sherlock couldn't help but be touched by that confession. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he placed a soft kiss to John's lips and then cradled him to his chest once more. "Well, for that alone then, I am grateful to be your bonded mate."
They sat in comfortable silence until John's stomach began to grumble. "Sorry, didn't really eat lunch I guess," he apologized to Sherlock.
"Well, I would say this calls for take-away then. Wouldn't you?" grinned Sherlock.
"Take-away it is," John happily replied. "Mm...Chinese? And after that, you can get out there and solve that case for Greg." Sherlock began to object but John cut him off quickly. "Sherlock, I am fine. I will eat and stay home, watch some telly and probably be in bed before you even finish the case. I will be perfectly safe. I know the case is still nagging you. Beneath the instincts, your brain is still turning over details and deductions. You won't be satisfied until you solve it and you know I'm right. Have something to eat with me and then you need to go."
Sherlock stared at John in silence for so long it was making him uncomfortable. "What?! What is it Sherlock?!"
Sherlock shook himself and replied, "I just never thought I would have someone who understood me so well. That I would welcome that closeness with any person. Just realizing how happy I am that I did just that with you. You John, you're the only one."
John couldn't stop the faint blush that rose to his cheeks at such a romantic notion from Sherlock. "Oh...well...thank you then. I am very happy to have you as well." Another kiss to Sherlock's cheek and John was pulling him up off the sofa, "Now let's get that take-away. I'm hungry my mate….provide for me!" John laughed at Sherlock's expression and headed off to the shower knowing the food would be here by the time he got out.
The rest of the evening was calm, going much as John had said. Dinner then telly while Sherlock was off on the case, John finally heading to bed when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. In the pre-dawn hours, John roused groggy to a dip in the bed followed by a long arm wrapping around his waist and a lean body pressing close to his back. Placing his arm over the one at his side, lacing his fingers into the hand there and bringing it up to lie flat against his chest, John mumbled, "Solved it then?"
He received a sleepy, "Mm-uhm," and a warm kiss to the nape of his neck. That was all they required before drifting off to sleep in each others arms. Things still weren't normal but they were getting better. They would be alright together eventually.