Prompting Part XXX
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allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.
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IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being
allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.
( Read more... )
Sherlock was standing by the sink in the bathroom, clutching the pregnancy test in her hand when the result on the little screen flashed. Her feet slid out from under her and with a heartbreaking yell she fell to the floor. She rocked back and forth as she tried to accept the cruel reality. She wasn’t pregnant.
John almost fell into the bathroom as he came in, throwing the door open with a loud bang. His face contorted when Sherlock’s form came into his vision. He immediately dropped to his knees next to his wife and wrapped her in his arms.
Sherlock looked up at him, face striped with tears, her lower lip trembling.
“I’m sorry, John. I am so sorry.” she whispered, looking away from John as she covered her mouth with her free hand. He knew she was devastated and blamed herself.
„Shhh. It’s okay, my love. Please, don’t cry.” said John and held Sherlock tighter as he petted her back, rocking her in his arms. “Next time, it will happen next time.”
“You said it last time and the time before that.” She cast an accusing and disappointed look at him. “It’s still not true!” she almost growled.
“I know, I know. But we cannot give up. We want it and we can do this.”
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John put his bacon and beans down on the table, a famished look in his eyes, while Sherlock was reading a newspaper on the couch. He started eating with an enviable appetite when the smell of the food lingered towards the consulting detective and she jumped to her feet when she took a whiff of it. She threw the paper back on the furniture and ran towards the bathroom, almost knocking over a chair in the kitchen. John stopped chewing, looking like a greedy hamster with food in his mouth and stared confused after his woman.
“John, what have we had last night for dinner? Something is bothering my digestion.” Sherlock came back, rubbing the sleeve of her dressing gown over her mouth.
“I gueff we hav fe fame. Fweet and four ficken fif noovle.” John was still stuffing the delicious meal into his mouth, not bothering to swallow before speaking.
“God, John, don’t talk with food in your mouth or else I will throw up again.” She threw a disgusted look at John’s food, trying hard to will the churning of her bile back and flopped back on the couch as elegantly as it is humanly possible after vomiting. “I don’t know how your stomach can process last night’s dinner, but this was the third time I threw up this morning. This must mean something.”
The clashing sound of cutleries made her head snap up into the direction of the dining table. John was clearly having problems with breathing because his face was turning red and purple. His eyes were so wide it was possible that they would land in his breakfast, ruining the harmony of the flavors.
“Say that again,” he spat out after a few moments of intense concentration to make his brain work the way it was needed to be able to speak.
“I said that it must mean something.” she huffed and losing interest, she looked back at the ceiling.
“It might do, actually.” John coughed and his voice was harsh and thick.
“Yeah?” Sherlock seemed to have lost interest and has started booting John’s laptop.
“Morning sickness is a sign of pregnancy.” John almost whispered but these words had an immediate effect.
Sherlock shut the lid of the computer and hurried into the bathroom again. No, she didn’t throw up this time, but she rummaged through the cupboards next to the sink. When John came in, she was on the tip of her toes, trying to reach the package at the back of the shelf. When she found what she was looking for, she dropped herself down on the toilet unceremoniously and started to unwrap the package.
“Er… Do you want me to go out?” John felt embarrassed, barging in on her privacy.
“No. Not this time. I want to have you on my side. I won’t be able to hold myself together, if…” she trailed off, but John knew perfectly well what she meant.
“Okay. I’ll stay. But I’d rather turn away.” She had to smile a little at that. Good old John, self-conscious about her peeing in front of him. And he was a doctor…
“Ready?” he asked when the sounds died away.
“Finished, but I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” Sherlock shook off most of the excess fluid and stared at him, waiting nervously.
John knelt next to her, putting his hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her skin with his thumb. He didn’t dare to look at the device, he looked at her solemn face instead.
“Oh God. John. Oh God.”
“What?”
“It’s positive. I’m pregnant!” Sherlock looked at her husband and as she saw the indescribable joy on his features, tears started their ways down her hot cheeks, in unison with his tears.
“We’re having a baby. Jesus Christ, Sherlock, we are going to be parents!”
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