Mrs. Holmes [Book III]

Gurney Cuddles

December 22

Sherlock rested on top of the gurney covers, gently stroking through Susanna's loose hair and tracing her features. He hadn't left her side since they'd found her in the sedan and didn't plan on leaving her anytime soon. She'd been given intravenous pain medication and a sleep aid, which had knocked her out for several hours. It was mostly to combat the pain emanating fron her shoulder.

As John had hoped, the dislocation hadn't been very severe and the A&E was able to pop it back into place fairly easily. But that had been the worst event of the night. Susanna had not had medication administered prior and while she had cooperated and didn't fight the doctors, she had screamed and cried the entire time, clutching Sherlock's hand. It was not a pleasant experience and certainly not pretty.

He gently lowered the hem of the hospital gown, looking over her shoulder and upper chest. They had become sorely enflamed with green and black-blue bruises that were visible despite the special sling she would have to wear for the next week. But that was a small price to pay, and Sherlock was immensely grateful she'd only sustained the dislocated shoulder and a few scratches and bruises.

His hand then trailed down to her swollen tummy with a feather light touch. Both he and the hospital had insisted on a thorough examination and check up to make sure the baby hadn't endured any trauma or distress. All the tests showed that they hadn't, by some great miracle, although they were keeping mother and child for continued observation for a couple days to assure their stable conditions. The doctors said it was a good thing the baby had not been full term because the extra room had buffered the impact. But if it had been required and an emergency cesarean was performed, the doctors also said that the baby probably would have survived the ordeal. Sherlock took a deep breath and rested his hand on top of her belly.

The baby stirred awake slowly under his touch and another wave of gratitude and love swept over him, "Just as responsive as ever, little one. I bet last night wore you out." He whispered.

The movements from within eventually awoke Susanna as well. She hummed, "Sherlock..."

"Yes, Love?"

"I Love You, Darling."

Sherlock smiled and pressed against her, nuzzling his face in her neck and leaving a trail of soft kisses before sliding his arms around her, "I Love You too, Susanna. Did you rest well?"

"Yeah. That sleep aid was pretty potent."

"Mmm, how are you feeling?"

"Sore, achy... Like I've been hit by a double decker bus and dragged a few blocks."

"I imagine," Sherlock's voice cracked with emotions, "But I'll take you feeling sore over you not feeling anything at all, Love."

"So do I, Darling."

Sherlock thought he'd expelled every tear the previous night- crying from fear, relief and joy. But when Susanna raised her hand to his hair and her fingers started kneading his scalp and carding through his curls, his resolve shattered. His body refused to listen to his brain and he let out a pitiful sound, tucking his head under her chin and just over her chest. It was followed by a series of whimpers as a few tears escaped his rarely used tear ducts. The stinging only caused more. Sherlock took a ragged breath against her skin, "Susanna..."

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Th-Thank y-you for not l-leaving me. I don't know h-how I would have lived..."

"Shhh, it's alright, Darling. I promised not to leave you and I'm here. I'll always be here." She soothed. Sherlock let the tears fall for a few minutes, until they dried themselves and he had calmed down.

"I'm still wondering what exactly happened in the car..."

Susanna sighed, "I was basically running on maternal instinct the whole time. Doina... she was going to hurl us off the road into a pit and I knew that that would be the end... So I reached for Mycroft's umbrella to use to try and steer and use as a crook to get her lead foot off the gas. We were going over one hundred and thirty kilometers an hour. The umbrella got stuck and when I pulled, the handle came off," She chuckled, "I'm so asking Mycroft for one of his umbrellas. How he managed to get a gun inside the handle amazes me. Anyways,.. I shot Doina in the foot and used the umbrella to veer us off the road into the clearing. I braced and barely got my belt on in time. I didn't expect us to flip so many times, but we rolled to a stop and that's when I blacked out. When I woke up I saw you and I knew I was safe."

"Your seat belt saved you. Thank goodness you got it buckled in time," Sherlock cheered up the tiniest bit, "Although, admittedly, I would have liked to see you actually shoot."

"Of course you would."

Sherlock hummed, "So you want Mycroft's umbrella? The one that hides a sword and a gun?"

"You think he'd let me have one?"

"You might be the only one he'll ever let touch one of his precious umbrellas," He inhaled, "I didn't think Mycroft cared nearly as much as he does. But last night he proved me wrong."

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