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John could feel the storm coming. The pressure was causing his shoulder to ache. He didn’t mind the rain. He could sleep through anything. As could Sherlock, if he slept. John’s main concern was Hamish. This would be his first storm he would experience with John and Sherlock. John wasn’t sure what Irene did to comfort him. If she did anything at all.
John climbed up the steps with grocery bags in his hand. He had worked a nice eight hour day, made a Tesco run and was finally home. He closed his eyes and just hoped that Sherlock had cleared out the body parts that were residing in the fridge. Sadly when he walked into the kitchen and opened up the fridge door they were still there.
Sherlock walked in and kissed John on the back of his neck. “I’m moving them,” he reassured him. John handed him the grocery bags as he walked over to the kitchen table where he son was coloring. He kissed him on the top of the head. “I would take something for your shoulder.” Sherlock said as he put the food away.
“I know,” John said as he saw Hamish stay focused on his coloring. “What’s for dinner?” he asked him.
“Chinese, Papa just ordered it,” Hamish told his dad as John walked over to put the kettle on. “Is it raining yet?” Hamish asked.
“Not yet, but there is nothing to worry about Hal,” John promised him. Once his tea finished John took some pain medication. He grabbed the money and headed down the steps to pay for their dinner. Before he shut the front door John gazed up at the sky, it was black and nasty but yet the rain was still nowhere to be seen.
Dinner went smoothly, Hamish explaining to his dad’s about what he was drawing. Once they finished with dinner, John cleaned up the plates, putting the leftovers in the fridge (the body parts still sitting there on a cooking sheet). Sherlock and Hamish headed to the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. Just as John was putting the kettle on to make tea to wind him down. Grabbing the newspaper Sherlock had saved for him, he looked up to hear his song giggle and then the bathroom door open.
John laughed as their son ran through the kitchen, the towel Sherlock had wrapped around his body falling down as he giggled and tried to get away from his Papa. Sherlock soon followed, jogging to let their son win the race. Sherlock stopped in the kitchen to steal a kiss from John before making his way up the steps.
They helped Hamish into his pajamas. John sat with Hamish on his lap, Sherlock on the ottoman as John read a story. Before he made it to the final page Hamish had fallen asleep, his head leaning against John’s chest, his hand holding onto his jumper. Sherlock took Hamish from John and tucked him into his crib with Arthur and Bzz. John set the book back on the shelf as and Sherlock made their way out. Shutting the light off and closing the door a little.
Heading back down stairs John changed into his own pajamas and headed into the bathroom. He was brushing his teeth when Sherlock walked in. “I hope it doesn’t rain.” He said spitting out the toothpaste into the sink.
“Why?” Sherlock asked looking at John in the mirror.
“We never had a storm, and I don’t know how Hal will react.” John explained to him as he rinsed out his mouth. He put his toothbrush in the cup and left the bathroom. Sherlock quickly undressed from his suit. After he got his teeth brushed he saw John as already there in bed. He slid under the duvet and spooned up behind John. Soon both John and Sherlock drifted to sleep with the sound of distant slumber.
It wasn’t even two hours they were out when John jumped up from his sleep. Sherlock had long ago realized that John slept like a soldier. He could sleep anywhere at any time. But once Hamish yelled or needed him he was up and running. This was one of those times. Sherlock didn’t know if the loud crash of thunder is what awoke him or Hamish. But as soon as both happened, John was up and running Sherlock was soon following.
When they got up to his room, they saw the black room being illuminated by the lightening outside. John saw a Hamish size lump under his duvet as he sat in his crib. Sherlock pulled back the covers to reveal a scared Hamish clutching his polar bear and bee. His face looked stained from tears. Sherlock picked up there crying son. Hamish buried his head in Sherlock’s grey robe. Walking from Hamish’s crib and took a seat in the chair that was by their son’s bookcase. John took a seat on the ottoman. He put his hand under his son’s shirt and rubbed his back. “Hal it’s okay, we got you.” he said as his son flinched from the loud thunder that clapped outside.
“Don’t leave….” He cried his words hardly autodial from the tears. “I’m scared.”
Another clap of thunder went off as Hamish grabbed tighter to his Papa. “I know, Hamish,” Sherlock said soothing his son. “It’s just some thunder. Just some loud booms.”
“I don’t like them,” he said.
“I know Hal. It’s okay.” Sherlock said kissing the top of his sons head. After another clap of thunder Sherlock handed Hamish over to John as he got up. “I will be back. I need to get some blankets,” he said more to Hamish than John. Hamish wrapped his arms around his Dad’s neck.
“We need to save Papa,” Hamish said as his blue eyes looked at his open bedroom door his Papa has disappeared out of.
“Papa will be okay, I promise you,” John said as he kissed Hamish on the top of his head as the three year olds grip tightened as another clap of thunder and flash of lightening went off outside. Sherlock soon came back with a handful of blankets. John’s eye narrowed in on one particular blanket that he hadn’t thought about in years. As another flash of lightening lit of Hamish’s room John saw the bright orange color of the blanket.
Sherlock took a seat on the chair as he grabbed the orange blanket and wrapped it around his son. “Sherlock…” John said looking at him as Hamish crawled into his Papa’s arms, laying his head on his shoulder as Hamish pulled Arthur and Bzz close to him.
“It’s for shock. I felt it would be good to use,” he explained as Sherlock took his long slender arms and held his son tight. John smiled as Sherlock moved over and John slid on the chair with Hamish between his Dad and Papa. Sherlock grabbed another blanket and draped it over all their heads to block out the flashed of light from the lightening.
“Story.” Hamish said looking up at his Dad.
John looked at Sherlock. “Go on Mr. Story Man,” he said.
Sherlock looked as his son as he flinched at the sound of the thunder. “The story of the case of the orange blanket.” Sherlock said as he began to tell the story to Hamish. John couldn’t help but smile as Sherlock talked dragging out the smallest of details for his son. Once he came to an end Hamish clapped for his Papa and then looked at him with a smile across his face.
“It’s daddy’s turn now,” Sherlock told him. Hamish turned to his dad as John took a deep breath and began to recite a fairytale from memory. As John finished up with the story Hamish was fighting to keep his eyes opened. There was another loud clap of thunder but their son just rolled over onto his side and gave into the much needed sleep his body was telling him he needed. They waited a while to make sure that Hamish was asleep. Once he was, Sherlock took the blanket off their head. John took their son and set him back in his crib. Still wrapped up in the orange blanket.
“Do you want to stay and wait and see if he wakes up?” John asked as Sherlock nodded as the rain hit the window. Sherlock and John both sat back down in the chair. As they watched their son sleep. John was running his hands through Sherlock’s black curls. “Explain.”
Sherlock knew John was talking about the blanket. “Don’t you recognize it?” Sherlock asked him as he tilted his head to look up at John.
“Yes, it’s a shock blanket from the paramedics.”
Sherlock shook his head. “It’s not just a shock blanket. It’s the shock blanket. You know from when you first killed for me.”
John looked at him. Words seemed to escape him for a moment. “How did you get it?” he finally asked.
“I stole it back, it was child’s play really,” Sherlock said trying not to seem sentimental.
“I figured that,” John laughed as he kissed him. “Why?”
“Well, you killed for me. I knew then…” Sherlock trailed off. He and John never talked about long term things like marriage. But Sherlock knew they were forever.
“Really?” John asked.
Sherlock groaned. “I’m not good with sentiment John, you know this. But yes, I knew.”
John smiled. That was all he wanted to hear from his mouth. “Come on, I think the storm is heading out. We can go hide under our own duvet.”
John got up and headed out of his sons room. “We will be doing more than hiding right?” Sherlock asked as he followed. Stopping to see his son fast asleep. He shut the door as he made his way down the steps. John was waiting for him. He took Sherlock’s hand as they walked back to their room.
“I have a lot more in mind for you, my sentimental love.” John said to him. A smile curled across Sherlock’s face as he kissed the back of John’s neck and grabbed his arse. They headed downstairs and shut their own bedroom door.