Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Six Thatchers- Finale

Hi guys. The video is: 'Live it up' by mental as anything.

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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Chapter Seventeen

Third POV

A handful of doctors and nurses perform a working miracle to save our darling girl: Michelle...

Her heartbeat spikes slowly...

In the secluded waiting room, Sherlock's mind is hot wired and he cannot think straight. Mary, John, Mycroft, Anthea and Lestrade witness him pacing hastily, muttering to himself. He shakes his curls in despair. "Sherlock." He stops his pace to look to his brother. "Oh, piss off, Mycroft. If I hear you say: 'I told you so' you can fuck off!" He spits. "And if it ends with: 'Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side'. You can go fuck yourself!" He finishes.

Mycroft smiles sadly and Anthea urges him to talk to his little brother. Nodding to himself, he gets up. "Take a walk with me." Manoeuvring Sherlock, they walk into a quiet corridor.

Tappings of his umbrella echoes the hall. "Well?" Sherlock questions angrily. Mycroft gives him a few moments to redeem himself before talking: "I told you once that all it takes is one lonely naïve man desperate to show off, and the wrong woman clever enough to make him feel special."

"Get to your point." Mycroft turns to the younger Holmes. "Michelle isn't the wrong woman. She never has been." He finished. They turn to look to the window. "She knew that this would happen." Sherlock's voice wobbled. He lowers his head in result. "I guess we now know why." Mycroft stated softly.

Sherlock turns facing Mycroft. "She was..."

"I know." Mycroft cuts in. "We talked about having children, after the Watsons wedding. She thought that if she couldn't have children I'd see her differently. I wouldn't love her any differently, Mike." He turns to face him. Mycroft's heart softens, seeing his brother as a young boy.

In the operation room, A heart monitor flatlines. "Time of death: 7:45..." A Doctor pulls his gloves off and the people in the room stand in respectable silence. Until,

BEEP...

At first, there thoughts were perhaps there'd be a malfunction in the machine.

BEEP... BEEP... BEEP...

Everyone is quick to move, all hands on deck...

A nurse walks silently to the waiting room, Mrs Hudson finally arrives, worried sick for her muffin. With a swing of doors, the nurse approaches the group. "Michelle?" Heads snap up. The nurse, being a fan of Michelle in many aspects, blinks a tear. "I'm sorry to inform you..."

Their faces fill with dread. The Doctor who was in charge of saving Michelle, skids into the room. "WAIT! She's not dead." Turning to the group again she speaks: "Lady Phillips flatlined a few minutes ago, but she's alive. However, there are a few things I need to talk about." He looks to his clipboard. "Martha Hudson and Sherlock Holmes are her next of kins... Care to follow me?" With a spin on his heel he leads the way. Sherlock and Mrs Hudson follow.

Stepping into the he office, the doctor gets down to business. "The way she controls her trauma is fascinating. Her brain however couldn't control it so she was announced dead a few moments ago." Mrs Hudson sobs and clings to Sherlock. "As stated before she's alive and we have put her in a comatose state for the time being." He then turns to Sherlock. "You're her partner, correct?" Sherlock nods. "We recognised that she was pregnant. Three weeks along and due to a gunshot wound, I'm sorry to inform you, but she's suffered a miscarriage."