"Cheer up John, it could be worse" said Sherlock dismissively.

"How? How could it possibly be worse?" John replied his voice quivering.

Sherlock looked down at the grave that two years ago had been his and wondered if John had felt the same way about his death as he now did about his wife's. "You're right John it couldn't possibly worse, your wife is dead, you know nothing about raising a child and to top it all off Theodore is motherless before he even knows the meaning of the word'

John cradled his son's head and gently rocked him so he wouldn't wake from his sleep. There was so much he wanted to say to Sherlock but couldn't muster the words or the courage to do so all he manage was "His name is Theo."

"Technicalities" murmured Sherlock.

They stood in silence watching Mary's flowers fight against the wind. "I better take him home before he gets too cold"

"I'll ring ahead to tell Mrs Hudson to put the kettle on "

"Mrs Hudson?" John questioned

"I just...I just assumed…because... because you were...alone..."

John cleared his throat "yeah… thanks Sherlock"

They hailed a cab from the side of the road and made there way to Baker Street.

Sherlock was the first to break the silence which permeated the small vehicle. "Your shoe lace is undone"

"Oh" muttered John passing Theo to him "can you take him while I fix it" Sherlock took the infant and held him at arms length "For god's sake sherlock he's a baby not a bomb!"

Theo reached out a chubby fist a grabbed hold of a long curl which fell near sherlock's face "Theodore would just plead stop that it's very unbecoming of you"

"He's six month Sherlock he won't understand you! He probably just couldn't resist"

Before sherlock could retort they had arrived at 221b and were traipsing up the familiar stairs to the room in which they had created so many memories. As the door swung open John noticed the unfamiliar structure in the middle of the room.

"Sherlock ... You bought a cot?"

"Yes ... It was Molly's idea. Her and George thought it would be more convenient" answered sherlock, throwing himself down on the sofa.

"Greg... that was thoughtful of them, really ... I should say thanks," said John.

"Why? It didn't exactly require effort on their part" said sherlock.

John just rolled his eyes and put Theo down in the cot his tiny body stretched out as John placed a blanket over him. There was a ragged teddy bear beside him, and John smiled to himself, imagining the manic genius retaining such an innocent relic from his childhood.

Mrs Hudson came in with a tray muttering something about "not being their maid". After cooing over Theo, she handed them their tea and fretted over John's rumple appearance until sherlock finally shepherded her towards the door, giving the two friends the peace they needed and so desired.

They didn't talk but enjoyed the comfort of not being alone. The night wore on in gentle silence, sherlock reading and John watching Theo's tiny chest rise and fall. At about ten o'clock, sherlock looked up from his book and saw that John had fallen asleep in his armchair, his face less lined with grief in his unconscious bliss.

Sherlock picked up a blanket and tucked it around his sleeping friend. Theo began to stir so Sherlock lifted him from the cot quitely and carefully, as he would a fragile piece of evidence. He gentley rocked Theo back to sleep, awkwardly hushing him to calm the motherless child. When the baby was once again asleep, Sherlock carefully put him back to bed and pushed the teddy bear towards him, before heading to bed himself.