Chapter 13

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Sherlock stood in front of the door of the small conference room at St. Bart's with John by his side and Joan in the army doctor's arms. The detective huffed, putting his hand to his hip and moving the hair out of his face.

"I still don't see why I have to be here." Sherlock pointed out, staring down the door as if he was going to make it move or disappear by burning a deep singed look of hatred and deduction to the painted slab.

"It'll be good for you Sherlock, to talk and be with other people that have been through the same things that you have been through." John readjusted their daughter in his arms as Sherlock scrunched his nose in disgust at his husband's words. John huffed in defeat, opening the door for the detective and shoved him into the room. Turning around and having the most horrific look on his face, John smiled while he closed the door behind him.

"Tease!" The detective yelled through the door, not realizing yet that he was in a room filled with women as the whole place went silent at his offensive word.

"Welcome! You must be Sherlock. Your husband called earlier to warn us about you." An overly cheerful women with bright red hair and thick black rimmed glasses told him as she lightly chuckled. "My name is Callie. I am the grieving counselor and therapist here at St. Bart's. Since you are new here, you don't have to answer or interject on the first day but feel free to jump at anytime. Ladies, shall we begin?"

All the women nodded their heads as they sat in the designated chairs set up in the usual fashion of a circle for counseling, coffees or small muffins in hand as they began their session. Sherlock scrunched his nose at the choreographed dance of grief and regret as he himself joined in and took a seat.

"Since we have a new face here today, why don't we go ahead and introduce ourselves." Callie added, clicking her pen then crossing her legs and placing a notepad atop of her makeshift desk she made with her legs.

Sherlock

One by one, all the women introduced themselves as I felt myself soften listening to what each of them have lost.

One lady, no older than twenty or so, regrets the decision of having an abortion. Her baby was going to be a girl. Another lady, already seeming like she was going to cry, was only seventeen when she gave her baby up for adoption when just two years before that she had a miscarriage then an abortion as she was afraid of losing it in that horrible way again also feeling like she wasn't ready for it yet.

As they got around to me, I cleared my throat then straightened my posture. Involuntarily popping the collar on my trench coat.

"Sherlock Watson-Holmes. I had a child when I was seventeen but gave her up for adoption." My eyes became thick with tears, trying to wipe them away while I sniffled. I hadn't realized how emotional I've become over something that has happened almost twenty years ago now. I was startled by a hand rubbing soothing circles into my upper back. I turned to my side to see a small women with dirty blonde hair give me a tiny smile as I returned it.

"Is there anything you'd like to add Sherlock? Again, you don't have to answer, but is there anything else you would like all of us to know?" Callie asked, her eyes beaming along with her smile and the soft tapping of her pen on her pad of paper.

"Well, like I said, I was only seventeen years old when I fell in love with what I thought was the most amazing man I've ever met in my life. He was protective, loving, but most of all, he was fantastic in bed."

All the women chuckled as I smiled as well.

"But it was a love blinded by drugs and sex, it wasn't love at all. It was a cover up for what he was doing to me, abusing me most days but keeping me drugged so I could never figure out what he was doing to me. But I didn't care, I thought he was the love of my life. He treated me so well that I didn't care what he did with me.

"After I found out I was pregnant, stressed and overwhelmed with the thought of having to take care of another human being, I went in search for him only to find that he left me.

"I was devastated, to be alone and pregnant is one of the scariest I've ever experienced. I had the love and support of my parents and brother, but to go through it all I was truly alone. Many times I have had the thought of abortion run through my head, but it all ended the same way of the answer being no. The day I went into labor was the first and last day I ever prayed to a God that I didn't believe in, hoping that he found the error of his ways and would come crawling back to me and our baby. But that moment never came, as I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl only to have her taken from my grasp and never to be seen by me again.

"I didn't know how to live anymore, turning back to drugs and running from the police when I had the chance of being caught. I always had that same wish running through my head of to never wake up from this nightmare." I stopped my rant on a dime as I smiled and felt my eyes swell with tears once again.

"Peyton was born in the most beautifully stormy sky I've ever seen in my life. How the rain hit the window and everything was still for those brief moments I had with her, trying so hard to memorize every aspect and detail of her scrunched-up, newborn face as quickly as I could before she was taken away. Not a day goes by, even in the new life I built for myself with a loving husband and beautiful daughter, that I don't think about her. Or what was the love of my life Vincent. I thought I had everything only to prove I was wrong in the most amazing way."

By the end of my overdue story-telling, most of the women were tearing up or already crying at my words. Maybe I had shared a bit too much information.

"That was very touching Sherlock. I'm glad you told us of your interesting life. Does anybody else want to share the progress they've made these last couple of weeks?" Callie asked the rest of the group. While most of them shared their stories of their children they've lost or the ones they are raising now, I tuned myself out and twisted my wedding band around my ring finger, reminded of all the possibilities I've been dealt, never minding the obstacles that have already come and passed as not so many more lay ahead.

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