The Watson-Holmes (Sequel To The Perfect Cradle)

Switching Places

The words clashed and rattled around his head like the shards of glass that were his world. The ringing in his ears only seem to grow and pulsate like a rapid heartbeat that pounded within his chest. His breathing slowed, staring off into the blackening world around him, feeling weightless like the earth lost all sense of the word gravity and just kept going and floating like a piece of debris in the wind.

The pit in his stomach grew and continued to grow until felt like he was being eaten alive from the inside out. The feeling reached his throat, fighting the urge to choke out a couple tears until ultimately admitting defeat.

Cancer.

Stage two inflammatory breast carcinoma.

Rate of survival: 24% to 34%

Breast cancer.

His ears stopped ringing long enough to hear a conversation between Sherlock and Doctor Taylor about treatment and how to make him the most comfortable when his time comes.

John didn't care about "treatment" or "comfort", he was a soldier. A doctor out on the front lines for God sake.

So how could this happen to him?

He had an amazing husband whom he didn't even recognize anymore without a needle in his hand or shooting a gun at the wall. But it was a good unrecognizable, now that they had two wonderful and adorable children who were already showing signs of being smarter than their dad.

So how could this happen to him? Him, of all people? A soldier and doctor on the front lines who now lives a quiet and exciting life with the great and only consulting detective and their two kids.

How could this happen?

"Thank you Doctor Taylor, we'll umm, we'll get back to you on this but I think for now we'd like to spend some time alone with our family." Sherlock's voice wavered, on the verge of tears, before wrapping his arm around John. The blogger wasn't paying attention, ears still ringing and eyesight going black.

Doctor Taylor gave a curt nod with a pursed lip somber smile before closing the door behind him and leaving them alone.

John didn't cry, he couldn't cry no matter how bad he wanted to. It just didn't come naturally to him in that moment. The ringing in his ears seemed to grow and his pulse quickened and soon he was having a panic attack.

"John?! John! John, look at me! Look at me darling, c'mon!" Sherlock held John's head in his hands as he hyperventilated and could barely catch his breath. The detective held his husband to his chest and pet the back of his neck and down his spine. "Everything's alright John. I'm here, we're here, we're okay. You'll be okay."

"How could I be okay?! Sherlock, I have breast cancer! Inflammatory breast carcinoma! I only have 24% chance of living! I'm confused and angry and...and scared." John started to cry, tears brimming and eventually falling one by one at the realization that he might die.

"Sherlock, I'm scared." He hugged his husband closer than ever before as the detective joined him in his sobbing.

"I know, I know you are John. I'm scared too. And if we have to hold off on expanding our family, then I can wait. I will wait until the end of time for you." The detective wiped away his husband's tears as the blogger smiled, holding his hand in place. He wanted to memorize every aspect and feeling of Sherlock against his skin. He didn't want to miss a single opportunity to have a moment with his detective.

"There's nothing I wanted more than having a family with you. I wanted a big family since I was young and my opportunity finally came along when I married you. That's all I've wanted with you and now, with this cancer, I don't think I'll ever have that opportunity ever again." John started to silently cry as he thought back to the previous hours where Sherlock and him were hopeful and filled with the anticipation of being parents once again. Now, it was something entirely different and terrifying. And life threatening.