000
John Holmes' life had changed so much in the last three years. He had a great job, a husband, and two amazing little girls. He never imagined his life would play out the way it had. Shortly after Isabell's first birthday Sherlock had asked him to marry him. Of course John had said yes. John took his last name. He couldn't imagine Sherlock changing his last name. They were married quietly but that didn't stop it from appearing in all the papers.
Just three weeks ago they adopted another girl named Wisteria. She was a cute baby. She was nearly a year old when they adopted her. They both had wanted to adopt a small baby but when they saw Wisteria's picture they fell in love.
Things weren't picture perfect with Sherlock but relationships were never perfect. They fought here and there but nothing serious. It was always the little things.
Isabell was one heck of a girl. She was too smart for her own good. She got a computer for her fourth birthday and could use the thing. She could turn it on and get to her favorite website. Not to mention she had a little hand held gaming system. It was hard to keep her attention focused on something.
That was clear that day in June when John took her into Scotland yard. He needed to pick up some papers for Sherlock. He needed a case. He was bored and if he didn't get a case John was going to kill him. Isabell wasn't having it though. She wanted to go home. Mycroft was taking her swimming and she was hot.
"Isabell," John said as they stood outside of Lestrade's office. "I need to do this. I'll only be a few minutes and after that we'll go home."
She looked so cute. She was standing there with a hand on her hip and her 'going out' bag over her shoulder. She kept everything she 'needed' to go out in there. Her hand held game, a bottle of water, and her stuffed cow were in there.
"I want candy," she said holding out a hand. "Please."
John sighed. He knew that was the only thing that would do. He went to the vending machine and got out a candy bar. He handed it to the child.
"Happy?" he asked as she opened it.
"Very," the little girl answered.
John stayed just long enough to watch her sit down in one of the chairs. With her free hand she got out her game. Happy that she would stay put and not end up wondering into people's offices again John knocked on Lestrade's door.
The inspector opened the door at once and waved John in.
"How are things John?" Lestrade asked digging through his desk.
"Fine," John said quickly. "Sherlock just sent me to pick up some papers."
"Yep," Lestrade said pulling out a folder. "You sound like your in a bad mood. Bad day? New baby giving you some trouble?"
"You could say that," John said taking the folder. "I hope there is something in here that will hold his attention. He really is driving me nuts. He is really good with Wisteria but she fuses with me."
"I don't know how you live with him," Greg said with a laugh. "I would have killed him by now."
"He isn't bad," John said with a forced smile. "I mean I love him and everything."
"Are things really that bad?" Greg asked feeling John's unhappiness in his voice.
"No," John said tucking the folder under his arm. "Hes just tense is all. He just needs a case."
Greg nodded but he was sure John was telling him the whole truth. He knew there were bets going around the office that they wouldn't last five years. Of course know one blamed John if he left. They all knew what it was like to be around Sherlock.
John left the office and took his daughter by the hand.
000000
Sherlock lay on the couch waiting for his daughter and husband to return from the trip to Scotland yard. Mycroft was taking Isabell and Wisteria out. Sherlock and John were supposed to go to a movie and then look over the cold case file.
Little Wisteria was asleep in Isabell's old swing. She was a good baby. She just hadn't adjusted to her new family.
He had his laptop and was working on an article for his website. Of course he wasn't supposed to be doing that. He was supposed to be cleaning the flat. He promised John he would. There were dirty dishes in the sink, clutter all over the living room, and the rug needed a vacuuming.
Cleaning was never his thing. Of course he should have been helping John with it. John normally worked, kept the flat clean, and did a lot of things for Isabell.
He was considering getting up and doing something when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Shit. They were back.
Sherlock could hear John saying something to Isabell. He could hear Izzy's tiny footsteps on the stairs to her room. The door to the sitting room opened and John walked in by himself.
"Get the file?" Sherlock asked not looking up from his laptop.
"Yes," John said throwing the file down on the coffee table.
John looked around the room in disgust. It didn't look like Sherlock had picked up a thing. In fact the room looked worse. There was a new newspaper spread out on the coffee table. There was a spilled glass of juice and a half eaten piece of toast on the paper. Some of Wisteria's toys were on the floor as well. He felt a fight coming on. He pulled the door closed.
"Sherlock I only asked you for one thing," John said in an angry voice. "I just wanted you to clean the flat. You haven't even tried. I don't think you've moved since I left. Oh I'm wrong because you made more of a mess."
Sherlock closed his laptop and sat it on the floor. He knew John had ever right to be mad but he didn't need to talk to him that. Sherlock got to his feet and stood only a foot or so away from him.
"You don't need to speak to me like that," Sherlock said. "I'm not a dog."
"You promised," John said still angry. "Goddamn it. All you do is sit on that computer all day. Or your staring into space. Get a grip."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Sherlock yelled pointing a finger at John. "I was going to do it. I hadn't got around to it yet."
"That's the way it always is," his husband said lowering his voice. "I just need a little help around here."
Neither of them heard their daughter sneak down the steps. The door was almost closed but there with a slight gap. She looked on at the fight.
"Who do you think watches them while you're at work?" Sherlock yelled.
To John's surprise he gave him a little shove. The only time he could remember getting into a physical fight it was during a case. Since they had been together Sherlock had never laid hands on him in that way.
"You think you do everything around here?" The detective asked pushing again.
John didn't know what to say or do. Sherlock was taller than him and perhaps stronger. He had never been afraid of him before. But he was now. He opened his mouth as if to say something when Sherlock gave him a final shove.
The smaller man cried out and he fell back onto the coffee table. He yelped when he felt the drinking glass break. He only had a thin shirt on and the glass cut into his shoulder.
Sherlock looked on in horror at what he had done. He had never lost his temper with John like that. His husband was hurt. He was groaning in pain. There was blood coming out of his shoulder. He tried to help him up but John pulled away from him.
Wisteria let out a loud scream. She, no doubt, had been woken by their screams.
"Don't touch me!" he cried rolling off the table. "Get away!"
Isabell couldn't believe what had happened before her eyes. She didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to call the police? She could call her Uncle Lestrade. What about Uncle Mycroft? Something about doing that didn't seem right. Wouldn't her Papa get in trouble? She ran up the stairs as panic took over her.
Sherlock ran into the kitchen came back in with paper towels and wet wash cloth.
"Please John," he said kneeling down next to him. "Let me look."
John didn't want to but he didn't have a choice. Sherlock pulled his shirt off and looked at the wound. There was no glass stuck in his skin but he was bleeding badly. He knew John would need stitches. He washed it up and patted it dry with paper towels. It was still bleeding. He held paper towels on it.
Get Wisteria, John ordered holding paper towels himself. She is scared.
Sherlock walked over to Wisteria and picked up the crying child. He held her close to his chest until she stopped crying. He felt horrible. He knew he'd hit his husband and scared his child. He never thought he'd do that.
"You need to have that looked at," the detective said.
"I can't go the hospital," John said getting to the feet. "They'll ask what happened."
"I don't care if you tell them the truth," Sherlock said. "For god's sake John. You don't have one reason to protect me. You're the one thatch hurt."
"Fine," John said as felt the blood soak through the paper towels. "Call emergency. I'm bleeding pretty bad. Don't tell the truth. Just tell them I fell. No point making a scene over this."
Wisteria was starting to whine again. Sherlock picked up his mobile and dialed. Quickly a voice answered him.
"Hello," Sherlock said. "This is Sherlock Holmes calling from two twenty one b baker street. My husband tripped and fell on the coffee table. He cut himself and is bleeding pretty bad. Yes..of course..yes..."
Sherlock hung up the phone and sat the baby down on the couch.
"Isabell!" Sherlock called.
The little girl appeared at the door to the sitting room.
"Papa?" she asked barely poking her head in.
"Watch your sister," Sherlock said. "Just sit with her. I need to take Daddy downstairs."
Isabell didn't say other word as she sat down on the couch next to Wisteria. Her silence wouldn't strike Sherlock strange until later.
Sherlock put an arm around John and helped him downstairs. Mrs. Hudson was at the bottom of the stairs.
"What's going on?" she asked when she saw John. "I heard a crash."
"John tripped," Sherlock explained opening the front door.
Mrs. Hudson frowned and shook her head. She was about ready to say something when the sounds of the ambulance filled her ears. She took John's other arm and helped him outside.
Sherlock felt like a terrible person as John was loaded in the back of the ambulance. They asked if he wanted to go but he told them he couldn't. He had two kids upstairs.
Mrs. Hudson decided to go along until Sherlock could get there.
Sherlock walked upstairs to find his two children sitting on the couch where he left them. That wasn't normal at all.
"Is Daddy going to be OK?" Isabell asked on the verge of tears.
"Of course," Sherlock said kneeling down in front of his oldest. "He just tripped. He has a bad cut but he'll be better. They're going to fix him up. I still want you to go with Uncle Mycroft. I want you to be happy honey. This isn't for you to worry about."
"What in the world happened?" said a male voice.
Sherlock turned to see his brother standing in the doorway with a confused look on his face.
"What happened?" Mycroft repeated. "I saw an ambulance outside."
For the first time in his life Sherlock was at a lose for words. How could he lie to his brother?