Disregard the Danger [BBC Sherlock - Johnlock, Warstan & Johnlockary]

Surfacing

Over the next three and a half months, nearly everything changes.

Not all at once. At first, most of the changes are gradual; it feels like surfacing from a deep sleep. Like the days after the winter solstice, when it seems there might be more light than before, but it also seems it might be just imagination. She moves slowly at first, and she focuses first just on the essentials, but accomplishes more with every passing day. Her daughter, her restless holubka, moves often now, encouraging her.

Her habits change. She goes to the OB/GYN immediately and often -- at first in a panic that she’s already ruined her baby’s life with her previous lies and neglect, but later, after the tests say otherwise, for regular checkups on her and her improbably healthy, perfect daughter. (A daughter! She smiles and begins talking to her baby about things she liked when she was a little girl.) In between, she takes her supplements and eats an impossible amount of food.

Her job changes. She officially quits her job at the clinic, unwilling to pretend everything is normal when John is there. She also tells Mycroft she’s going on maternity leave early. In reality, she suspects she’s quitting the service for good. No more lying about who she fundamentally is -- even if John never takes her back, she doesn’t want to lie to her daughter.

She starts volunteering at a clinic treating veterans with PTSD. Few want the job -- it’s dangerous and unpredictable when the veterans have flashbacks, and tragic when they break down and cry. She loves it, and she’s good at it. When they ask if they can hire her on as an employee in the future, once her baby’s born, she’s delighted.

Her flat changes. (It was once her and John’s flat; she mostly stops thinking of it as such as time goes by and she hears nothing from him.) She gradually converts the guest room to a nursery and begins buying things her daughter will need. (At one point a beautiful mahogany crib appears, which she didn’t order. The card beneath the red bow says, simply, M. She sends a text on the now dormant Mycroftphone -- Thanks.)

Her body changes (and her entire wardrobe with it). Her skin itches and stretches. Every part of her aches or tingles or cramps or swells -- or all of the above. She is never comfortable. She eats constantly, tries to sleep all the time (but with less success than ever before), urinates incessantly -- but has to take pills in order to defecate.

Her physical capabilities change. After a brief return to running, she switches to jogging and eventually mostly takes walks. Her vision swims and she fights for air every time she climbs a hill or stairs. She’s no longer nimble, and no longer capable of lifting heavy things. She feels both restless and tired all the time. At night, she tosses and turns, trying to ease pain in her hips and an itching, crawling discomfort in her legs.

Her mind changes. This child that she never wanted now occupies most her thoughts, waking and sleeping. Her anxieties, especially, are omnipresent.

She dreams her daughter has no eyes or no limbs. That she’s born with a vulture’s head, and it’s Mary’s fault for not taking proper care during the pregnancy. She dreams her child is healthy, but she forgets her on the subway platform; in a locked car; in a secret room in the flat that Mary had forgotten, where her cries go unheard for days. Mary watches, helpless, as her daughter finds and plays with her loaded gun.

Amid the grim visions, though, there’s so much anticipation and joy -- more than she ever would have predicted.

She dreams -- asleep and awake -- about holding her child. About her daughter’s expressions, smile, her rapt curiosity and delight as she explores the world. She imagines reading to her daughter -- she finds and purchases some of her favorite books that her mother and grandmother read to her. Imagines singing to her. She imagines patching up her scrapes, watching her learn to run and swim and climb. She imagines taking her daughter on adventures, showing her every corner of the world that Mary has previously loved, and discovering new ones together.