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Slowly but surely things got better for Lydia. She kept gaining weight and soon was breathing on her own, and her body was on the mend from the surgeries she had had at birth and in her first week of being born. Her neonatal specialist was confident that, with time, Lydia would be a normal and healthy little girl. Sherlock had to admit that was the one bit of good news he'd had in months. Molly was still distant and had spent very little time at the hospital and absolutely none at all once she had started teaching. He was thankful that Molly was leaving the house and actually doing something again, but at the same time he had hoped when she did start to care about things again she would care about her family, not her job. Still, the fact that she cared about something was an improvement.
But today he had other things to think about. It was the fifth day in October and he was finally getting to take Lydia home. At just over three months old she was deemed healthy enough to leave the hospital. He knew it was going to take some adjustment to not being at the hospital all the time and not having the help, but he was incredibly pleased with the prospect of having his entire family in the same home. Over the last few months his friends had helped set up the nursery for him so he could spend his time at the hospital, and today it would finally be put to use.
John was accompanying him today and they made their way to Lydia's hospital room, finding it full of people. It seemed as though every nurse and every doctor who had provided care for Lydia were all in that room. Also in the room were stacks of presents. He looked at everyone for a few moments, absolutely speechless. Finally Caroline moved forward. “We thought you probably have most of what she'll need, but we all love her very much and want to make sure you had everything you might not already have, and a few things you could probably use more of.”
“There are also a few things included that will make it easy to care for her with the few lingering problems she does have,” Dr. Lewis said. “We realize you're still doing this mostly on your own and all of us wanted to make it as easy for you as possible.”
“I don't know what to say,” Sherlock replied quietly. “Thank you all.”
“Well, just promise you'll bring her back to visit,” one of the other nurses, a man named William, said with a smile. “We've really grown attached to her.”
“Go ahead and open the gifts,” another nurse, a woman named Anna, said. “That way if you have questions about any of it we can answer them for you now. Less confusion that way later.”
“Very well,” Sherlock said with a nod. He moved over to the rocking chair where he had spent so much time and presents were immediately being handed to him. Most of the gifts were clothing in Lydia's size, formula and nappies, but some of the other gifts would be very good at keeping her nursery a place where she could continue to get better. When he was done the nurses and doctors began to say their good-byes to both him and Lydia, and soon it was just Sherlock, John and Lydia. Lydia had been dressed in an outfit he hadn't seen before, and there was a cap on her head. “I didn't expect any of this,” Sherlock said quietly, holding a sleeping Lydia in his arms.
“Well, it was a very nice surprise, wasn't it?” John said with a grin. “I suppose we get to cart all of this downstairs and load it into a cab now. I hope it will all fit. I'm just grateful they left a wheelchair in here to pile the boxes in.”
“The changing bag might be useful to hold most of the clothes,” Sherlock said. “And then that would leave seven boxes or so, plus whatever clothes don't fit. The boxes seem to be on the small side, other than the air purifier and the nappies.”
“Formula, nappies, clothes...they really did go all out for you,” John said as he opened the changing bag and began to put the clothes in it. “They really took a shine to both of you.”
“Yes. And I appreciate it, because I haven't taken on a case in months and even with Molly's savings it's starting to get a little tight,” he said with a nod.
“I didn't realize that,” John said, his eyes widening slightly.
He nodded. “Mycroft made an arrangement with Mrs. Hudson to pay our rent until I can go back to consulting again, and he's contributing to making sure we have food and necessities,” Sherlock said quietly. “I don't think he's going to make me pay him back for it, either, mostly because I don't think anyone expected for Molly to get postpartum depression and have it for so long. I may owe him some favors, but probably nothing that will take me away from home.”
“Has he seen Lydia since she was born?” John asked.
Sherlock nodded. “Sometimes he would be here with me. And the nurses said he would come on his own past visiting hours with a book and read to her three or four nights a week. He may not be an overly sentimental man but he cares for Lydia very much. I don't think he's expecting for us to have any more children so he wants to take care of the only niece he'll get. That's why he made arrangements to help take care of us.” He moved Lydia over to the car seat they had brought in with them. “The nurses and Dr. Lewis were quite grateful when you and the others started spending time here when I couldn't be here. I think that's why Lydia improved so much so quickly. I think they all wish Molly had been more involved, though.”
“I think we all wished for that,” John said quietly. “But we'll have to make do until she's better.”
He put his daughter in the car seat and began strapping her in. “I don't think any of them expected her to be here today. Even when I asked I was fairly sure she would decline.” He sighed. “I'm not relishing the thought of doing this on my own, but I'm happy she's coming home.”
“I'm glad she is, too,” John said with a grin as he began putting the boxes in the wheelchair. “I think she'll do so much better once she's home. A hospital is a place to get better and a home is a place to thrive.”
“Doctor's wisdom?” Sherlock asked with a grin.
“No. But I might start telling my patients that,” he said with a chuckle. “It's sound medical advice, as long as you have a proper home.”
“And thankfully Lydia does,” he said as he finished getting her strapped in. “She might only have one parent taking care of her for the time being, but I hope that will change soon.”
“I hope it does too,” he said. The two men lapsed into silence as they finished getting everything ready, and then Sherlock carried Lydia out of the room while John slowly pushed the wheelchair. They made it to the lift and then went down to the first floor. Once they got out they made their way to the doors and outside. John hailed them a cab and he began loading everything in as Sherlock got her settled in the back seat. Soon enough John finished and joined him in the back seat. Once the doors were shut and the cab was on its way John spoke again. “Is Molly going to be home?”
“I doubt it,” Sherlock replied. “She had two classes today, and then she stays at the university to work so she doesn't need to be home. I honestly don't know how sleeping arrangements are going to work. I don't want her to get angry because Lydia wakes up multiple times a night.”
“Is my bed still in the basement room?” John asked. Sherlock nodded. “We can move it into the bedroom next to the nursery and you can sleep there. It's not an ideal situation, but it will keep her from getting angry at either of you.”
“I suppose,” Sherlock said quietly. “I really do hate this. I miss my wife. I didn't have much time with her between when we got married and this happened. I want to help, I want to take care of her, and I can't. She pushes me away any time I try and get close.”
“She'll get better soon enough and then it will go back to how it had been between the two of you,” John said.
“But what if it doesn't? What if she does get better and decides she doesn't want any of this? I don't want to do this on my own. But I worry that things will never go back to how they had been.” He sighed. “That's one of my biggest fears, that she'll give up and leave us alone. And I don't think I would handle that well, even with support from you and the rest of my friends.”
“You two have been through more than just about any other couple I know and you're still together,” John pointed out. “She nearly got killed and you helped get her back to normal. Then you ended up going through an experience the rest of us don't pretend to understand and she helped you work through it. And then Lydia's born premature and Molly gets postpartum depression, and while the two of you aren't handling it well she hasn't left yet. I honestly don't think anything will separate you two.”
“But I don't know how much longer that will be the case. She hasn't left yet, but she could. I've been told to be patient, and I'm trying to be. But every time we fight, every time I ask her to do something with me and she rebuffs me, I wonder how much more she's pulling away, and how long it will be until she decides to just end things rather than deal with me. With us, now.” He looked down at his daughter. “And what happens if I give up? I can only be pushed away and ignored for so long, John. If I give up it won't matter if she gets better.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “I want to reassure you that things will get easier, but you're right. They could get worse. I guess the question is if you're willing to be there even if it does. Because if you're thinking about giving up you aren't really the person I thought I knew. You can be the most stubborn person in the world. You latch onto things and you don't let go. That's just who you are. And I think if you let Molly go you'll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Sherlock didn't reply right away. He knew John was speaking the truth. He knew that what his friend was saying was the honest truth and he wasn't sugarcoating it, but he didn't understand. John hadn't had to live through everything he had in the last three months, and that was the problem. Still, he appreciated the sentiment. “I suppose you're right.”
“And now you're just trying to placate me,” John said with a slight grin.
“You do know me too well,” Sherlock replied with a faint grin of his own.
“I know all of this has got to be tough. I can't imagine going through an uphill battle every day with my wife. And God forbid if something was seriously wrong with Timothy on top of it. But you're strong. You're one of the strongest men I know, stronger than me. If you just hang in there, I think things will eventually get better. And if they don't, then you gave it your all. Just try and keep your head up and don't drown in your doubts. And if you need to, just call one of us. Any of us. We can come watch Lydia while you blow off some steam or let you vent and rant and rave or take the two of you somewhere else for a time. That's why we're here.” John looked over at him intently. “Just have some faith.”
“You know I'm not religious,” Sherlock said.
“Then have faith in Molly.”
Sherlock nodded slowly. “I can do that.”
“Good.” John looked down at Lydia, who was waking up. “I think we need to turn our undivided attention to your daughter now. We didn't think to prepare a bottle for her before we left, and we can't change her right now.”
“So we need to distract her until we get home?” Sherlock said with a grin.
“Exactly.” Lydia looked at them, and then scrunched her nose up. Sherlock waited for her to start crying but she yawned and stayed silent. “I think we just got very lucky.”
“I hope so.” He moved his hand slightly and ran his fingers on her stomach, something he had found she liked. She reached over for his fingers, and after a moment he let her catch a hold of his index finger and grip it. “If nothing else, I'm glad she's coming home. It's one less thing I have to worry about.”
“And that's a very good thing,” John said, taking over running fingers over her stomach while Lydia pulled Sherlock's finger towards her mouth. “I think she's going to bite your finger.”
“Probably,” he said with a chuckle. “I'll stop her from doing that once she gets teeth.”
“That would be a good idea,” John said with a chuckle of his own. Then he turned over to Sherlock. “Celebrate the fact she got to come home today. Be thankful that she's healthy. Don't worry about other things for a while.”
All right,” Sherlock said with a nod, and after a moment he settled in to amuse his daughter, letting her bite his finger. He could have faith in Molly, hold out hope for the best. He could do that no matter how hard it got, at least for a little while longer. He just hoped it was long enough.