The Holmes Called A [Sherlaide III]

Clock Watching Pt. 2

As the second hour of surgery ticked by, Sherlock and Mycroft watched as a slow trickle of people began filling up the waiting lounge. Sherlock halfheartedly deduced that the majority of them were patients reporting for a scheduled operation. All bleary eyed and drowsy from having had to wake up at the crack of dawn to come in. He realized after some of them gave him questioning glances that he wasn't faring any better in appearances. As calm as he tried to keep his exterior, his bloodshot eyes and ragged hair gave him away. Mycroft, seeing this, nudged his brother. When he responded with a short, nearly silent hum, the Cabinet Minister said in a low voice; "Go on and clean yourself up, Sherlock."

"I'm not leaving, Mycroft. I'm not going to miss any news about Adelaide."

"It will only take you a minute. Go."

Sherlock grumbled and relented, getting up and sauntering out of the lounge, muttering things under his breath. He trudged to the bathroom and locked the door behind him before cautiously approaching the tiny, glaring mirror. Might as well try to freshen up so Adelaide doesn't get worried over me. He remarked dryly, avoiding eye contact with his reflection as he turned on the faucet.

For the first time that morning he noticed that his hands were covered in a now dried film of rusty-colored substance. His breath caught in his throat as he remembered whose. Adelaide. He had been so caught up in panic that he hadn't thought of gloves when he was trying to help stop the bleeding.

The corners of his eyes stung like toothpicks had just been jabbed into them as he forced his hands under the faucet and began scrubbing. After a full minute, he had scrubbed his hands to a raw pink. The detective ignored the inflamed, burning itch as he turned the hot water off and dried off with the sandpapery towels provided, which only irritated the skin more. After running a shaky hand though his curls to neaten them up, he returned to the lounge and sat down to resume the long wait.

Both of them were nearly ready to inquire after the status of the surgery when another nurse walked in. As it was fifteen minutes earlier than had been expected, Sherlock hoped it was a good sign. The nurse, who looked just as exhausted as the Holmes brothers, called for them to follow her. She led them to a small consultation room where they sat silently for a few minutes before the Surgeon who had performed Adelaide's operation walked in and sat down. After a curt exchange of formalities, Sherlock wasted no time clearing his hoarse throat and asking, "H-How is Adelaide?"

The grim-faced veteran surgeon, Doctor Bloxham, sighed and then spoke; "I did everything I could. I was able to remove all of the affected tissue and addressed as many of the haemorrhages as I could. Though the fact of it is that I couldn't account for all them and due to the sensitivity of the disease, especially in her case, your wife is still in critical condition. Besides the bleeding, her heart has been severely weakened too, it stopped during the surgery and we nearly lost her. She's barely stable, even with transfusions and injections."

Not for the first time that day, the detective felt like the air had been sucked out of him. Doctor Bloxham continued gently, "She showed no signs of waking up after being taken off anesthesia, so I moved her to a private room instead of the recovery ward. Because she is a new mum, she's been accommodated in one of the mother-and-baby suites so that the specialists can attend to her. Doctor Coburn, who has taken over your wife's care, asked me to request that you have your baby brought in as soon as possible for an examination as well."

Sherlock nodded weakly, taking the surgeon's words in as he forced back tears. Mycroft, in a rare gesture, reached over and clasped his brother's forearm firmly, his austere expression melding into a frown. When the new father couldn't respond after a minute of silence, the elder Holmes cleared his throat and spoke for him, "Is she stable enough for him to see her now, Doctor Bloxham?"

"Yes, although I must advise that he be mindful-"

"-Of her delicate condition, of course." Sherlock snapped. At that point the other two men understood that the best thing for him was to let him return to Adelaide's side. Mycroft wrapped the meeting up and the doctor called for a nurse to lead them to her room, sighing solemnly to himself as they left.

Adelaide still wasn't responsive when they arrived, making it impossible for Sherlock block out the painful memory of when she'd frozen nearly to death that had been awakened by the revelation that her heart had stopped during her operation. He took up a position beside the bed and grasped her hand, lifting it up gently to check for a pulse. It was there, prompting him to press a kiss against her wrist before gasping,

"I know you're here and fighting, Love. Just please, please  keep that heart of yours beating. I can't lose you a second time..!"

Sorry for the long wait!! Love you guys!!

~Uilosris