The Watson-Holmes (Sequel To The Perfect Cradle)

Reality

"C'mon Sherlock! I don't want to be late to this appointment! It would be a little sad for the pregnant one to be late for their own sonogram!" John huffed. He slipped his jacket on with ease, surprisingly having more strength that day as he did his best to get his husband going and out the door for the day.

Hamish and Violet already left for school, leaving John and Sherlock to go to their appointment by themselves.

After a while of silence from the bathroom, and no response from Sherlock, John slipped on his shoes and went to go investigate what was taking his husband so long to get ready. The blogger gave a couple taps on the door then waited for another response from the detective.

"Sherlock? Are you in there? C'mon love, we gotta go or we'll miss our appointment." John twisted his lip while waiting for an answer.

A pain-filled groan came from the other side of the door and John's stomach dropped. John jiggled the door handle until the door finally swung open and the blogger felt his heart bang against his chest at the sight.

Sherlock was sitting on the floor, the majority of his upper body lying across the edge of the bathtub and his eyes screwed shut in pain. A growing puddle of blood beneath him.

"Oh my God." John whispered, dropping to his knees next to his husband. He gently shook Sherlock as the detective bit his lips inward and whimpered while starting to rock back and forth.

"Hurts...d-down there." Sherlock pointed out, wringing his hands into his trousers and twisting the material between his fingers.

John nodded his head before wiping his hand over his face. He stood up to pull his phone out of his pocket and dial 999. He didn't give the person on the other line a chance to ask him what the emergency was before he blurted out that his husband is almost seven months pregnant and is bleeding. They only responded with an ambulance was on the way while John a slight sigh of relief but still holding his breath for the safety of his detective and child.

"Sherlock? You need to stay with me until the ambulance gets here. Do you hear me?" John asked, getting down next to his husband and trying his best to keep him awake. Sherlock hovered in and out of consciousness, locking eyes with John for a couple seconds here and there before closing his eyes once again and grunting in pain.

5 minutes later, they took Sherlock away on a stretcher with John by his side all the way to St. Bart's; gripping his hand like it would be the last time.

"Sherlock? You need to answer these questions for me, okay?" John gently shook the detective's shoulder to wake him for the moment. His eyes tiredly blinked open one at a time, his oxygen mask fogging up with every breath he exhaled; once again locking eyes with his blogger.

"When were you born?"

"1979, London." Sherlock said after a long silence to think.

"Good. Now, where do you live?"

"221B....Baker street?"

"That's right, very good Sherlock. One last question, then you can rest. What is our children's names?"

Sherlock gave a weary smile, closing his eyes once again and snuggling his head into John's side. "Hamish William Watson-Holmes and Violet Joanne Watson-Holmes. Can I rest now?" He muffled as John nodded his head.

"Of course you can, you did well. Rest now." John kissed the detective's matted curls before letting him rest against his side all the way to the hospital.

They arrived shortly after and rushed Sherlock into the maternity ward where he was set up in a room and immediately tended to by the nurses and Doctor Taylor; asked by Mycroft nonetheless to tend to the matter.