The Holmes Called A [Sherlaide III]

Vitals

Noon

"Was that Mycroft?"

"Yes."

"Any good news yet? Has anything changed?"

John slipped his phone into his pocket and massaged his forehead, shaking his head before replying glumly; "No. Just more bad news. The Doctors just told Sherlock that if Adelaide doesn't improve by early evening, they'll have to put her on full life support because she'll officially be comatose."

"... Is it still her heart..?" Mary asked gently, trying to avoid disturbing Mirabella, whom had finally fallen asleep after crying on and off for several hours. The former assassin studied her husband's expression as he tried to string an answer together. Finally she pressed, "John..."

He sighed in exasperation and nodded, "Yeah. When they attempted to take her off of the support to see if it would stimulate her, she coded."

"For how long?"

"Three minutes. They brought her back, but Sherlock had a pretty severe breakdown. He's been sedated and confined to the private suite."

Mary frowned before gazing down at the little girl in her arms, "I can only imagine what he's going through... and Sherlock's going to blame himself for everything."

"Of course he is. Which is why I'm especially worried for him," The dusty room fell silent for a few moments before John sighed and turned towards the kitchen, "Another cuppa, Mary?"

"That would be lovely, John."

The Army Doctor nodded and walked into the kitchen, trying to blink the blurriness out of his eyes. After putting the kettle on he rummaged around to find some biscuits to accompany the tea, and ended up discovering the cache of cookies Adelaide had baked in anticipation for Mirabella's birth. Several tins of them- all neatly stacked and labelled. Out of curiosity, he lifted them out one by one to read the inscriptions.

"Guess Mirabella didn't give them enough time to send these out..," John mused as he opened the tin meant for him and his family, wafting up the warm, buttery fragrance that he and many others had come to associate with Adelaide. Absently, he remembered the many times where her baked goods had featured over the past two years and almost chuckled when he thought of the crumb-covered Sherlock that he and Mary had once stumbled upon, or a picture of Rosie wearing nearly as many cookies as she ate. But as soon as his spirits lifted they sank, and he let out a dismal sigh as he thought; It'll be hell if Adelaide doesn't make it.

Meanwhile, Mycroft was keeping dutiful watch over his sister-in-law. Sitting perfectly still beside the gurney, with only his sharp blue eyes flicking from Adelaide to the array of cold, noisy machines hooked into her. To the hospital staff and the occasional passerby he could be a wax statue from Madame Tussauds for how stoic he appeared to be.

But however calm his exterior, his thoughts were far from settled. The Umbrella-wielder, despite being ardently devoted to logic, was finding it more difficult by the minute to avoid becoming emotional. He had formed a close bond with Adelaide and to him, she was an invaluable member of his innermost circle. And one of the principal reasons was that she had never ridiculed him as Sherlock and John often did. She had earned his trust and friendship. He didn't want to lose that connection.

Mycroft exhaled slowly and directed his focus back to the monitors, refusing to let himself get distracted by sentiment and thereby miss potential indicators that Adelaide's condition was changing, whether for good or bad. Especially with Sherlock sedated across the hospital: The worst scenario was that the youngest Holmes would wake up a Widower and Single Father because they couldn't have acted fast enough. That, inevitably, was what Mycroft was not going to allow to happen on his watch.

"- Pardon me, Mycroft Holmes?"

Without glancing at Doctor Coburn he acknowledged her, "Yes, what is it?"

She cleared her throat and walked around to the other side of the gurney, eyes soft with wisened understanding. Once he had reluctantly met her gaze she spoke, "It appears that her husband has fought off the sedative and is en route back. When he gets here, I would like to have you try to persuade him to bring the baby here for a proper examination before this evening. I want to make sure she is perfectly healthy and not hiding any sneaky complications."

"Of course. I will bring it up when he arrives."

"Good. I don't want to cause more distress to him and your familes, but better to be safe than sorry." Mycroft nodded dismissively and she took it as her cue, quickly updating the charts and then leaving to see to yet another high-risk patient. He tapped his umbrella on the tiles, shaking his head.

"Adelaide.., if there's going to be another miraculous  recovery from you, now would be the optimal timing to do so," No sooner had he said it when Sherlock returned, clearly pissed off. Before he could go off on Mycroft the elder brother stood, "Before you scold me for sedating you, brother mine, we have a matter to discuss."

Sherlock drew his lips into a thin line and clenched his fists, "What, Mycroft? If it has nothing to do with Adelaide or Mirabella-"

"Mirabella. The Doctor has requested that she be be brought in before the evening."

"I'm not leaving Adelaide."

"I will have a chauffeur and security personnel escort the Watsons here to the Hospital, Sherlock."

"And the Media will have a field day and Mirabella will get caught up in it!!"

Unknown to them their banter was what finally broke though Adelaide's anesthesia-induced shell, tickling at the edges of her consciousness. And it was just enough for the monitors to register an up-tick in her vitals.

Hello, Everyone! I am so sorry for making you wait  so long for this chapted but I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thank you for reading!!

~Uilosris