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John had gotten up early that day for some reason. He turned around and saw Sherlock still lying in bed, which was also odd.
John smiled though. In the two and a half years of dating and over five years of knowing the taller man, it was such a rare occasion to see Sherlock asleep. He gently kissed a high cheekbone before deciding to take advantage of the early wake up and take a shower before Sherlock had a chance to use up the hot water.
The hot water felt good on his sore muscles. They had gotten home late from a case and collapsed onto the bed. Instead of heading off to sleep however, they celebrated their triumph by shagging, which John had discovered was not only pleasurable, but made Sherlock fall asleep a lot sooner.
John began to have stirrings in his groin thinking of the previous night so he shut the water off before those thoughts got too far. After he dried off and he slipped on his jeans and simple gray vest. They were out of milk and he was pretty sure Sherlock used up the last of the eggs on some experiment so he figured now was a good time to pick up some more before the next case took his and Sherlock’s attention.
Leaving a note for Sherlock John skipped on his shoes, grabbed his black jacket putting his wallet, mobile and key into the pocket he headed down the steps. Opening the front door he stopped. Looking at a basket there was a child.
You were right Doctor Watson, Hamish is a good name. the note read
There was no full signature except the initials.
IA.
John began to feel a sense of dread as he peered closer in to the basket.
A pale face, squished up in confusion and bright grey eyes framed by dark brown hair stared back at him. The babe couldn’t have been more than 18 months.
He picked up the basket and brought it back in. Climbing the steps his main focus was on checking the health of the child. His second thought was to get an answer. But the second thought was going to come first because as he walked back into the flat, John saw Sherlock had moved to the couch. "I thought you went out."
"And I though Irene Adler was dead," John hoses at him. "Guess we were both misled."
Sherlock observed the large Moses basket at John's side. "What is it?"
"A baby."
"It’s not mine."
"Are you sure? Cause he looks an awful lot like you!" John set the basket down and gently lifted the babe out. The child started to whimper.
Sherlock looked at the child. The child stared back.
"Why didn’t you tell me she was alive?" John asked, his anger boiling. He began to move to try to sooth both himself and the child who was whimpering more at the raised voices.
Sherlock looked up from the child. "Why did you tell me she was in the witness protection program in America?" Sherlock countered.
"To save you the heartache," John told him.
"I did the same. Knowing how much you despised her."
John threw his hand in the air, "I despised her because she set you up. I despised her for she was working for Moriarty, the man you had to fake your own death and be on the run for 18 months!"
The baby began to cry at John's raised voice and John quickly held him close and shushed him. The child’s cries lessened till he was once again sleeping. Once the baby quieted down John looked up at Sherlock. "He can’t be more than 18 months old."
"I’m not an expert, babies don’t really commit crimes, but that seems to be accurate." Sherlock assessed.
"We’ve been together for over 2 years." John stated. The child was fully asleep at this point so John set him back down in the basket. "Sherlock. I --"
"Hamish huh? I'd thought she'd be more original" Sherlock was reading the note. Sherlock looked at John, "you’re a doctor. Check and make sure he is okay."
"You shouldn’t wake a sleeping child, Sherlock," John said as he walked to the kitchen to see if they had anything to feed him when the child woke up.
Sherlock sat back down on the couch. "Are you making breakfast?"
"No, I need to get baby food and diapers," John said leaving.
Sherlock furrowed his brow. What was he to do with a child till John returned?
After John left the baby continued to sleep and Sherlock took a closer look. The young child was dressed in plain footie pajamas and the blanket that surrounded him was blue and white. Sherlock surmised that the baby might be more comfortable out of the basket.
He wasn’t an expert at picking babies up but he knew supporting the head was important so he cradled the head and wrapped another hand around the babies back and lifted.
The baby, Hamish, shifted but didn’t wake and so Sherlock carried him to the couch and sat with him. Eventually he shifted to a laying down position, cradling the child in his arms. He then began to think.
Irene left him with quite a mystery after all.
~~~
Why him? John thought as he grabbed formula and a bit of baby food at Tesco, not sure where the baby was at in development. Things were getting back to normal, or as normal as life at 221B could get. The whole baby thing just bothered him. The child just looked so much like Sherlock.
He didn't care of Sherlock had other partners, male or female he just wanted Sherlock to be truthful with him.
They had agreed.
Communication would be a key component to their relationship.
But John laughed to himself, why would he think this time would be different? It was typical Sherlock. Not telling John something until he needed to know. Grabbing diapers and tossing them in the trolley. John got milk, bread and beans and proceeded to check out
When John came back to the flat it was at the sight of Sherlock laying on the couch holding the baby, Hamish. John laid a hand on shoulder and 2 pairs of grey eyes met his.
He tried not to cry, for a moment his anger left his body as he saw his Sherlock with a child. The cold and ridged facade he usually wore was gone. Together they looked like a father and his son, not Sherlock and the baby found barely an hour before. Walking into the kitchen he grabbed the bottle, and made some formula for the child. John shook his head, to make a bottle for Hamish.
Hamish grew eager at the site of food and his movements woke Sherlock from his thinking pose. Sherlock shuffled Hamish into a sitting position, reaching out for the bottle. He suckled on the bottle halfheartedly before reaching out for the pureed squash John had in his hand. John opened it and used one of the smaller spoons to scoop some up for the child. Hamish eagerly ate and curled up to Sherlock afterwards and quieted again.
"Irene obviously wants us to have him. She has her pick of hospitals to drop him off at but she chose here.” Sherlock stated.
John said nothing as he went to get his medical bag. Not knowing if the child was sick or anything he needed to do the best examination he could.
"Did you just get the one flavor of baby food?" Sherlock asked.
"Not knowing of he has allergies or anything I opted for something simple. If I did it wrong by all mean go yourself and get the child-"
"Hamish," Sherlock interjected.
"What?" John asked annoyed.
"You keep calling him the child his name is Hamish." Sherlock held the child out. “You should hold him.”
John took the baby with gritted teeth and glared at Sherlock. "Don’t get attached. We can’t keep him.”
"Why not?"
John gaped at Sherlock. That was not the question he was expecting. "How on earth would we take care of him? Where would we keep him?"
"Your old room. We don’t use it anymore."
"And the cases-"
"I can take some time off to get him settled and only take on cold cases"
"But what about—?" John trailed off when Sherlock held up a hand
"I’m sure Mrs. Hudson will provide child care or one of your many friends."
"I love you Sherlock, but are we really parent material?"
Sherlock knelt down and hugged John and Hamish. "We can do this."
Only hesitating for a second longer, John nodded. "We can try."
John looked down at the child; he took a deep breath, pressed his lips together and looked at Sherlock. There was a lot to do, to get, people to tell. John sat Hamish down on the couch with Sherlock to watch him and got a notebook. He began to make a list of things they needed to purchase.
Sherlock watched as he saw the worry line appear on John’s forehead.
"Woo hooo," came a voice. “I wanted- whose baby is that?" Mrs. Hudson asked walking over to the child and picked him up. "Sherlock what have you done?"
"Nothing, the child was dropped off for us. His name is Hamish." Sherlock explained. As he and Mrs. Hudson talked John pulled out his mobile.
I need to talk to you- John
Regarding-M
Irene Adler. She is alive- John
You sure-M
Yes-John
10 minutes -M
John ripped the list out of the notebook and used it as his excuse for leaving the flat. It took Mycroft less than 10 min to find him. The black car moved around. When Mycroft opened the door, the first question he asked was "Are you certain."
"Pretty damn. Or at least she was when she dropped a baby off at our flat"
"A what?" Mycroft asked
"A baby, 18 months. Looks just like your brother. But the kicker is your brother wants to keep it." John said. He was still debating over this plan. Before he was with Sherlock, John wanted to be a father. He wanted to make up for the shitty one that he had. But after Sherlock, he didn’t think this was an option. And he never dreamed that it would come about this way.
"Really?"
"Yes, it's odd and I don't know how we are going to raise him. We barely have money for us. And no, I won't take any money."
Mycroft nodded. "I know. I can see what old baby furniture is left from our childhood and have it delivered"
John laughed, "You’re going along with this to?"
"Did you ever think why my brother is so keen in keeping the child?" Mycroft asked him.
"Because it's his."
Mycroft chuckled. "No," he smiled. "Maybe having a family is a way to show that he is staying and not going."
"Lots of fathers leave their kids and significant others every day."
"I think Sherlock has had enough of hiding from his family, don’t you?"
John was reminded of 18 months of pure pain and depression. Had that only ended 2 years ago? "Check on the furniture, I need to... Get what on this list." John finally said.
"Anthea will get all you need," Mycroft told him as the car pulled back up to 221B. "I know he hurt you John but he loves you."
John nodded as he opened the car door. He felt Sherlock’s eyes on him as he looked from the window. John walked up the steps bracing him for a row to open as he opened the door and walked up the steps.
The row practically started as soon as he opened the door. "Really John. Mycroft?"
"You kept Irene are secret from all of us? Why?"
"I may have needed her help one day."
"Her help to get off?!" John yelled out of anger. He realized what he had said and wished that he could take it back.
Sherlock looked at him, confused at his partner’s statement. "What?"
"That kid looks just like you!"
"I told you, he's not mine!" Sherlock yelled raising his voice for the first time at John since he came back. His face contorted as he was getting frustrated. John was just waiting for him to call him an idiot.
"Then how in the hell did that happen?"
"I don’t know? But I don’t like what your insinuating!”
"Look Sherlock I get it. We were just starting out in our relationship and you got bored. I understand. She is so much more interesting." John sighed and sat on the couch. Sherlock passed off Hamish who had woken up from his nap.
"John...no one is more interesting than you!" Sherlock said, his anger had turned into persuasion. He was speaking the truth to John and he needed him to realize this.
"Sherlock...I" John trailed off "I just don’t understand. I need to believe you but…" John’s anger was fading. He was retreating back to his shell of fear that this was all a sham and he needed to believe Sherlock but, there was still trust issues that hadn’t been resolved fully yet in these two years.
Sherlock sighed. "I know." Suddenly Sherlock was completely dressed and had his coat and scarf on then he was leaving.
"Sherlock! Sherlock wait!" John chased after him. “Sherlock!”
But Sherlock is already gone.
"So much for never leaving," John said as he looked down at Hamish. "He does this a lot, so I would get used to it."
Hamish smiled back at John and reached out to be picked up.
Once Sherlock’s black dress shoes hit the pavement outside of 221b he pulled out his mobile and texted her.
We need to talk. Now-SH
You know where- IA.
Sherlock did. He got in a cab and went to where it all began with The Woman. Paying the driver, Sherlock slid out of the taxi. Seeing the black door was open slightly he waited for the cabbie to pull away before he popped his coat collar up and headed inside. Pushing it open with the palm of his hand he walked in.
The house lay vacant. Cold and dark. The only light was from the limit sun that was hiding behind the clouds that seem to cover the London sky.
"Hello Mr. Holmes," came a smooth voice as she walked out from a room. She was perfectly dressed as Irene never accepted anything less than perfect.
"What the hell did you do?" Sherlock asked her.
"Oh, I thought you would have been able to deduce." She said to him her eyes bright with life and her lips curling into the seductive smile that she put on her face when she was scared. After three years Sherlock was able to break down the façade of Irene Adler. Or at least parts of it.
"This isn't a game Irene," Sherlock told her his eyes narrowing. "We had a deal."
"Yes, and I needed your help.” She explained as she slipped her mobile into her coat pocket. He heels clicking and echoing in the bare halls of her old flat. “I don't have much time before your brother is after Me." she told her as Sherlock stood in the entry and looked at her. "He’s not yours if your wondering."
"I'm not but my boyfriend is," Sherlock told her.
A smile spread across her red painted lips. "So who grew the pair first and admitted they were in love?"
"That’s not why I'm here Irene...."
"I had an affair with a man, he reminded me of you.” She paused and then admitted to him, “though dumber. Things happened and I found myself pregnant. I felt it was a good cover so I spent those 10 months in the South of France. Once he was born I thought of the name John said so many years ago. Hamish. I tried to make it work but it was too much work to raise a child."
"You are abandoning your son."
“Giving him a life I never could Sherlock. It's the only way."
"Why us?"
"I trust you." she admitted. "I don't trust many. You and John though, treat him right."
Sherlock stood there. "So that's it. You’re just walking out of his life."
"It's the only way," she said. "Goodbye Mr. Holmes." She kissed him gently on the cheek. Sherlock stood there in the entry of the flat listening and watching as Irene walked to back of the flat. No doubt going out the back door. He soon heard the door shut the noise echoed throughout the entire flat. Turning on his heels Sherlock made his way back out the front door. Closing the door forever on flat 44 in Belgravia. Raising his hand he hailed a cabbie and went on his way back to 221b.
Sherlock came back late, he had taken the long way home for he needed to think. As soon as the door opened John ran towards him. Sherlock thought it was to hug him and give him a kiss and tell him that he loved him. But instead Sherlock got a rude awakening as John’s left fist hit his chin.
Sherlock reeled back and turned to yell "what the hell-?" but stopped short when he saw the tears in John’s eyes.
"Don’t ever fucking do that again!" he yelled at him. His voice was cracking. "Do you understand?"
Sherlock grabbed john and held him close. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking"
"That’s a first." He said trying to sound bitter but as soon as Sherlock engulfed him into the hug; he laid his head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat making sure that he was alive.
"John. I went to go see Irene."
John huffed and tried to pull away.
"No John, please listen. I didn’t go to—I would never cheat on you. Irene slept with a guy who resembled me and got pregnant. I never slept with her. I was never interested in her."
John looked at him.
"John, I love you. I have always loved you." John put his head in his chest and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s thin body.
"I love you to. And I just...."
"I understand. Genetically Hamish and I look very similar. I might have believed something similar had happened if Hamish had your blond hair and stunning blue eyes. Though, I wouldn’t not have been as calm about it.” Sherlock told him.
John chuckled “I wasn’t exactly calm…” He took a deep breath and stood back and looked at Sherlock. Clearing his throat he looked over at Hamish. "Are we really going to do this?" he asked him.
"Of course."
~~~
A few weeks later legal adoption papers were lying on the kitchen table. John picked up a pen "Does he need a middle name?"
“Lestrade" Sherlock said without hesitation. "He'll be named after the two best men in London."
John smiled and filled out the paper work. "Welcome to the family Hamish Lestrade Watson- Holmes."
Next to them Hamish squealed in delight as a smile spread across his face.