Saving Grace(A Sherlock/BBC Fan-fiction)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Same As Always

When we got back to the flat it was dark, presumably because my initial plan was to come home and cry over my husband, but seeing as that is pointless now, I turned on the lights and opened up the curtains.

"Grace..." I turned around to see Sherlock, pregnancy test in hand. I looked at the little blue plus sign, a sense of panic rising in my stomach. I nodded.

"That's the test." I said, answering his unspoken questions. "Could my timing be any worse?" He didn't respond. I think the news that he was going to be a father and just sunk in. "I'm...really...I'm scared, Sherlock. And I know for a fact that you are too, with Moriarty, and-"

"Moriarty is dead." He cut me off. "And I promise you, that even if he wasn't, nothing would happen to that child while I am still breathing. I swear it." I nodded.

"I know...and I don't doubt your abilities to protect him or her, but strangely enough, that doesn't make me any less terrified."  He tossed the test in the bin, and I averted my eyes to the ground.  He crossed over to me, standing directly in front of me.

"Look at me, Gracie." He whispered. I looked up, and he tucked my hair behind my ear, his hands resting on my neck, his fingers curling around the back behind my hair. I grabbed his arms. "This is not going to be easy, but I need you to trust me. Same as always." I nodded, biting my lip.

"Same as always." I repeated. "But I need you to promise me something."

"What?" He questioned.

"You can't go on another drug binge. There is a child-to-be that's going to need a father, and you cannot leave me alone with that child, because I can't-"

"You have my word."  He gave me one slow nod before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.  I kissed him back, weaving my fingers into his hair, and he wrapped his arms around my waist before pulling away, leaning his forehead against mine. My smile dropped,, and I took a step back from him.

"What's wrong?" I shook my head, running off to the bathroom and vomiting.  Sherlock appeared in the doorway as I went to the sink, rinsing my mouth out and brushing my teeth. He looked absolutely terrified. I smiled at him, ruffling his hair as I exited the bathroom without another word.

~~~

"If this get's any better I'm gonna get two knives." It was as if nothing had changed. John sat at the table, typing away on his blog, while a very pregnant marry stood beside him, I sat in Sherlock's, and he stabbed a knife through a stack of papers on the mantelpiece.

"Joy. Twice as many holes to explain to Mrs. Hudson."

"It pays to advertise." John told him. Sherlock, as per usual, pulled me out of his chair and into his lap, while glued to his phone yet again.

"So what about Moriarty then?" Mary asked.

"Oh, I have a plan. I'm going to monitor the underworld. Ever quiver of the web tells me when the spider makes his move."

"#221BringIt?" I questioned. "Stop it was the hashtags. Your Sherlock Holmes, not a teenage girl." He dug his fingers into my ribs, and I jumped.

"So basically, your plan, is to sit there solving crimes like you always do."

"Awesome isn't it. Have you gained weight?" He asked me.

"Sherlock!" Mary scolded.

"It's fine. She's pregnant, remember?"

"Oh, that makes it better." John said sarcastically, not looking up from his laptop. I chuckled.

"How did you get so blessed with a wife that doesn't take offence to that?" Mary questioned.