A Study in Resistance- A Johnlock Fanfic

Chapter Eleven

WOW!!!! Chapter eleven holy crap I never thought we would get here! And I would like to thank all of my awesome readers! And I would like the double thank the commenters! It's super awesome reading all those comments! I know its a bit short considering how long it took (come on i gave you and awesome cliffhanger i had to let you sit on it for a while!) but hopefully you'll get what you wanted and /not/ what you were expecting... Anyways, read on... READ ON!!!

~Sec

 

When the cab reached the hospital, Sherlock threw money at the cabbie and jumped out yelling to keep the change. He burst through the hospital doors and found John pacing furiously in the waiting room. He looked up and met the detective’s eyes. He was scared, depressed and furious. Sherlock was too nervous to deduce anything else. John practically ran to Sherlock. He grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out the door.

 

“Outside, now,” he growled. Confused Sherlock followed obediently. John pulled him around the corner into the shadows where there were no windows and no one was watching. The doctor slammed Sherlock against the wall. Sherlock put his hands up, half in surrender, half as defense against any coming attacks.

 

“John! John what are you doing?”

 

John stomped a circle the way he had when Sherlock had drugged him. Sherlock stayed against the wall.

 

“Complications,” John whispered, a bit out of breath.

 

“What?”

 

“There have been ‘complications’ with delivering the baby. What the hell does that even mean?” he said aggressively.

 

Sherlock’s jaw dropped,” Oh God.”

 

“I mean complications, complications could mean anything!” he turned around to look at Sherlock, “And you. You with your bloody kisses! Any fool could see that you didn’t want Mary to have this kid! You thought a child would take up some of your bloody attention!” John yelled.

 

“In what way does that make it my fault your wife is having complications in childbirth?”

 

“You must’ve poisoned her!”

 

“What kind of a person do you think I am?”

 

“You’re a bloody sociopath!”

 

Sherlock opened his mouth, then closed it. A nurse in a blue surgical cap with a mask around her neck poked her head around the corner.

 

“John Watson?”

 

John’s head snapped up.

 

“Would you come inside with me please?”

 

John shoved Sherlock back against the wall and jogged to catch up sit the nurse. Sherlock stood up straight, brushed himself off and followed them, about thirty seconds behind. He was done now being there for his friend and he was eager to discover if Mary was going to be alright.

 

For the second time that night, Sherlock burst through the hospital’s doors. He saw the nurse in blue (25, naturally blonde, single, part time job at a pub, hasn’t had enough sleep in weeks) with a man, her hand on his shoulder. The man had his face in his hands, he was sobbing. The nurse asked him if he was alright. He looked up, it was John, of course, and nodded solemnly. He straightened his jacket. The nurse pulled her mask and walked back to the OR. Sherlock trotted to John.

 

“Well? Wh-what is it?” he asked shakily. John just looked at the wall.

 

“John, what’s going on? Is Mary okay? The baby?”

 

John closed his eyes.

 

“I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life,” he quoted for Sherlock’s best man’s speech.

 

“John?” John’s eyes opened, he turned to look Sherlock square in the face.

 

“But I can’t save the lives of those closest to me now can I?” his voice cracked, he licked his lips, holding back tears. A single tear fell down his face, and then another. One for the child… and one for its mother.