SPOV

I received John's text just before I picked Hamish up from school.

Leave Hamish with Mrs. Hudson. I need to talk to you—J

Is everything alright?—SWH

The school bell rang just after I sent my message, and I attempted to use searching for Hamish as a distraction from the worry that John's text message had brought. I was no use, though, and I cursed my hormones for turning me into such a worrier. My phone buzzed with John's response.

Just come home. I want to tell you in person—J

Well, that didn't help at all.

I scanned the flood of children coming out of the school building hurriedly, searching for Hamish. As soon as I saw him I called his name and soon his little arms were wrapped tightly around my legs.

"Hi, Papa! Hi, baby!" he said, patting my baby bump and placing a kiss just over my navel. I smiled and ruffled his dark curls.

"Hello, Hamish. How is my clever boy today?" I asked, taking his hand and turning towards home. He started chattering at me about his day, and I listened to every word more closely than usual, hoping to be distracted from thinking about John's worrying text. I wasn't very successful with that line of thinking.

"Hamish, you're going to visit with Mrs. Hudson when we get home. Daddy or I will fetch you in a bit, alright?" I said as we walked up the steps to the front door.

"Yes, Papa," he answered as I opened the door. I knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door once before popping my head in.

"Mrs. Hudson, would you mind watching Hamish for a bit? John has said that he has something he needs to talk to me about," I said.

"Of course, dear. I'm only happy to look after the little one for you. It's nothing bad, I hope. That's the last thing you need in your state," she said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," I said, choosing not to comment on the sort of news John and I needed to talk about. I shooed Hamish into Mrs. Hudson's flat with kiss on the top of his head and turned to go upstairs.

I found John sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Nothing good could come from that.

"What's happened, John?" I asked. Instead of answering, he shoved a sheaf of papers toward me. I picked them up and my heart sank instantly. The RAMC logo stared back at me. I shoved the papers away without taking a second look.

"What did it say?" I asked, not daring to think it said anything good.

"I'm being deployed. Afghanistan. I leave in two weeks."

"No. Not happening. We'll talk to Mycroft; he can stop this," I said.

"I can't do that, Sherlock. They need medical staff. I can't just not go," he said.

"Why does the army need you? There are other doctors! Hamish needs you, the baby needs you. I need you!"

"Do you think I want this, Sherlock? I'm as unhappy about it as you are!" he said, his voice rising slightly.

"Then speak to Mycroft." I told him.

"We knew this was coming, Sherlock. I can't back out now, even with Mycroft's help. I made a commitment. I have to honor it."

"What about your commitment to me, John? Our family?" I asked, gesturing to my belly to emphasize my point.

"I am not walking out on you!" he exclaimed. "I could never, ever leave you or our children, Sherlock. I have to go, but I will always come back to you. Always."

He got up from his seat and walked around the table, taking my face in his hands. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt him wipe tears from my cheeks.

"You, and Hamish, and the baby are the most important things in my life. How could I ever leave you three?" he asked softly, his own eyes watery.

"You're not allowed to die. Do you hear me, John Watson? You are not allowed to die. I forbid it," I said, tears still falling down my cheeks.

"I hear you, Sherlock. I won't die. I promise. I promise." He kissed me softly on the lips, long and slow, before pulling away and helping me up. He led me to the couch, and pulled me down next to him. We lay tangled together for the rest of the afternoon, his hand resting on the swell of my stomach, trying to draw comfort from the closeness of each other.