Saturday 28 July
"Papa what are stars made of?" asked Hamish.
It was just after 7pm and the sky had grown dark. The curtains of the windows in 221B were drawn slightly but still enough that from his seat at the table, John could just make out the sky beginning to darken and the stars filling the night sky. He looked to his left where 4-year-old Hamish sat eating his late dinner of macaroni and cheese.
John cleared his throat before speaking to him. "They're just…bright lamps in the sky."
Hamish cocked his head to one side and looked at him. As he did so, a stray dark brown curl fell over his forehead and threatened to cover his grey-blue eyes. With a long-fingered hand, he moved the curl back into place and continued to look at him before giggling. "You're lying papa."
John laughed along with him. "No, I'm serious. They are bright lamps in the sky."
"Then how did they get up there?" he asked as his tone made it clear he wasn't being fooled.
"You should be eating your dinner not asking questions."
"Fine, I'll just ask daddy when he gets here."
They went back to eating dinner. Five minutes later, John heard the unmistakable sound of Sherlock's footsteps on the stairs. Next, the kitchen door leading out into the hallway burst open revealing Sherlock Holmes.
"Daddy!" Hamish leapt out of his chair and ran up to Sherlock. Sherlock smiled at him and ran his hand through the little boy's hair before shaking the curls and making a thorough mess.
John offered Sherlock dinner but he refused. Instead, Sherlock just sat at the kitchen table listening to Hamish babble on and on about his day at the park.
"Daddy, Papa said stars are made of bright lamps in the sky. Is that true?"
"John," Sherlock whined as he gave John an accusatory stare. "Why would you tell him that? You want him thinking the electric company supplies the stars in the sky?"
John just rolled his eyes and sat back to listen to Sherlock dive into a chemistry lecture on the properties of stars…
10am
John slowly woke up from his sleep. He laid in bed feeling the bliss of his painless leg. It wasn't everyday that his leg didn't bother him. After lying in bed for a few minutes, John checked his phone for any messages from Harry.
"I will be there at noon."
Harry was making the trip from Hounslow to come see him today. She knew he wasn't doing well and wanted to check on him, which meant a whole day of listening to his sister rambling. Luckily she worked at an electronics store which meant she was able to get a DVD on sale. Hopefully that would keep her quiet for most of the day.
John got dressed and went out to the newsstand to pick up the morning's newspaper. Once back inside his flat he put the paper on the counter and set the kettle on the stove. While the water heated up, he worked his way around the apartment, dusting and wiping anything that did not meet his standards. By the time his tea was ready he had worked his leg too much forcing him to sit still.
John sipped his tea and ate biscuits while he flipped through the newspaper. On the second page, an article caught his attention.
Doctor arrested for alleged murder.
He skimmed through the article hoping to see Lestrade's name but it was not mentioned at any point in the article. Instead all the credit went to the chief of police who was quoted as saying that "It was due to my expertise that helped me recognize that the late Ms. Angela Chamberlain had not suffered from tetanus. It was nothing more than a common cold. This development led to an inquiry as to the misdiagnosis made by her doctor…"
John's blood ran cold. The nerve of the man to take credit for the work he and Lestrade had done. He quickly flipped to the entertainment section and spent his time reading about different nominees for the upcoming award season. When finished, he cleaned up his dishes and soon a knock came at his door.
John limped to the door and pulled it open. There stood Harry in all of her blonde haired glory. Harry was John's younger sister. They both had the same dark blue eyes and straight blond hair but whereas John looked like their mom, Harry's features took after their father.
John raised an eyebrow, "You've cut your hair." Harry's hair had been down past her shoulders the last time he had seen her. Now her hair was cut short with the front part extending from the side part on the left side to her right ear.
"Yes, well this hot weather is dreadful with long hair." She walked past him into his flat and looked around. "You really need to get your OCD under control."
"Some of us like to keep things clean – "
"Big brother there is such a thing as too clean." She took her finger and rubbed it on counter where it made a loud squeak. She raised her blue eyes to look at John giving him an 'I told you so' look. "It's so hot in here. How can you stand it?"
At the mention of the weather, John noticed just how warm it really was. "It's hotter in Afghanistan."
"You aren't running around the desert carrying a gun anymore," she said as she put the shopping bags on the kitchen counter and moved to the windows and began opening them.
John wanted to correct her oversimplification of the war but decided against it. They'd had this conversation before and Harry would find other things to talk about soon.
When she finished opening the windows, Harry went back to the shopping bags and began pulling things out one by one. "I brought…a couple bottles of that specialty soda…some snacks…and Annie courtesy of my workplace."
"Annie?"
"It's an American movie based on a Broadway show about some red-head."
"Never seen it."
"Me neither but a friend of mine recommended it."
Sure enough as they got ready to watch the movie, Harry would not stop talking. She told John about everything from how things were going at work to her flat in Hounslow as well as the current status of her dating life.
"You should come to a club with me one of these days."
"I don't think lesbians are going to be interested in me."
"They aren't all lesbians. Some of them are bisexual."
"I'll pass."
Mercifully the movie began and Harry was forced to keep quiet for the next hour and a half.
The movie begins and it turns out to be a couple of decades old. The first thing shown is a sign saying "Hudson St. Home for Girls". Must be a movie about a school.
The opening scene shows a little red head girl, singing in the middle of the night looking out at New York City. She has a nice voice maybe this won't be too bad.
"…their one mistake was giving up me…" she sings.
"Oh no…" whispered John.
A shot of the inside of the room shows a row of beds with little girls sleeping. One of the little girls gets restless in her sleep and the little red-head girl, Annie, goes to her bedside.
"Jesus, they should have done something better with that girl's hair," laughed Harry. "Well I guess that's what she looks like on the cover…" She then picked up the DVD case to look at while John leaned in to watch the movie more closely.
Soon the girls on the screen start waking up and fighting. Once they calmed down, Annie and the other little orphan girl start talking about their absent parents.
"…they want a little girl with brown hair and brown eyes…" John groaned as he listened to the little girl.
Annie starts singing about parents again while the little girls listen and imagine. John almost got up and turned the DVD off but just then the music turned sour and a drunken older woman walked in the room demanding all the girls get up and start cleaning.
"…why any kid would want to be an orphan is beyond me…" John let out a pained laugh.
Next the girls start cleaning and as it turns out, there were a lot more girls living there than it originally looked like. They all start cleaning, singing, and dancing. It was all very unrealistic but the lyrics cut through, more than anything else.
"…no one cares for you a smidge. When you're in an orphanage. It's the hard knock life…" Listening to the orphans sing, made John imagine Hamish in that situation.
Skinny 5-year-old Hamish being roughly woken up in the middle of the night and made to do chores. Barely tall enough to reach the sink but carefully scrubbing dishes so they don't break. Sweeping the hallways with a broom taller than he is. Having to make his bed. Hand washing his clothes in the sink. Getting in line to get breakfast. Breakfast is pieces of toast and cold tea. Getting to the front of the line and handed only one piece of toast because there isn't enough food for everyone. Having to fight boys for a seat at the breakfast table. Sitting alone and eating a cold breakfast. Going into the living area and stealing a piece of newspaper to have something to read. Getting visited by a couple who might want to adopt him. Spending the afternoon with them. They get his hopes up that he might leave the orphanage. They smile and leave him back at the orphanage. Getting in line for dinner. Pushing and shoving. At the front of the line, choice between processed mashed potatoes or mystery meat. Sitting in a secluded area outside, eating mashed potatoes. Spending the rest of the evening hiding from the orphans and the attendants…
"…We love you Miss Hannigan…" When John finished daydreaming and started watching the movie again, the secretary of a billionaire was at the orphanage hoping to adopt for a week. Is that even possible? To just borrow an orphan? Maybe that could be an option.
As the plot suggested, Annie was the one adopted for the week and after some resistance, her adoptive billionaire father learns to love her. Once he wants to make the adoption official, Annie resists because she's still waiting for her parents. That would be a problem too wouldn't it? Hamish wanting to meet his birth parents. He'd never be satisfied just with me. He'd want to know about Irene and about his dead father. Would I show him Sherlock's grave? Would I call Irene and ask her to meet Hamish?
The movie goes into an elaborate scheme of hunting down Annie's parents while the drunken woman who runs the orphanage manages to trick Annie and the billionaire into thinking she's her parent. Once everything gets sorted out, the billionaire officially adopts Annie and several other orphan girls. Must be nice to be that rich and buy help.
When the movie ended Harry stretched and said, "I need to have a stern talk with my co-worker. This movie wasn't all that great…"
John tuned out her ranting while he let the events in the movie process. It was just a movie. Hollywood always likes to dramatize things and make them worse than they are just to cause a rise in people. Of course, it couldn't be entirely inaccurate. Orphanages are not pleasant places. No doubt Hamish would probably experience something close to that. Mycroft sure seemed to think he will.
Harry turned off the DVD and interrupted John's thoughts. "What's going on with you? Did you not like it either?"
Like it? Of course not. The universe is playing some sick joke. "Well it's a bit far-fetched if you ask me. An orphan gets invited to live with a billionaire for a week. Orphan wants to find the parents. No parents. Billionaire adopts multiple orphans."
"John, it's only a movie. If you didn't like it you just have to say so."
"No. No, it's not that. I just think the story line is a little hard to swallow that's all."
"Oh but the James Bond series is very believable."
"Hey! Why are you in attack mode?"
Harry giggled a little at his word choice. "I saw you tear up when the orphans were singing. You cannot tell me you didn't like it."
John averted his gaze. Harry still didn't know about Hamish but telling her would be like making it official. Telling your family about adoption was the ultimate step. Would she be supportive? Would she talk him out of it?
Harry moved to sit back down on the couch next to him. "Is this about Sherlock? How is a movie about an orphan reminding you of him?"
John looked at her and opened his mouth to answer but no sound came out.
Harry sighed, "John, talk to me. Look I know I was not there for you when you got back from Afghanistan. My relationship with - " Harry stuttered a bit before starting again. "My relationship with Clara was in a very delicate state and I'm sorry…But I'm here now. You helped me. Let me help you."
John looked at her. She was completely serious. It was true Harry had not been there at his side to help him recover from his injury. The feeling of being completely alone but being back home was a strange feeling. It wasn't until he met Sherlock that the isolation had ended. Sherlock had been the cure. When Sherlock died, Mrs Hudson called Harry for help. With her divorce now finalized and her drinking under control, thanks to John, Harry had not hesitated to come to his side. Harry had never met Sherlock but she knew of him. John had talked a lot about him in the two years he knew Sherlock. Looking back now, Sherlock really had dominated a portion of his life. Harry was the first person to tell him. Sweet outspoken Harry had not minced words when after listening to John talk about his cases with Sherlock, she straight out asked, "When's the wedding?". They had laughed at the time but looking back, John's life really had revolved around Sherlock's musings.
Harry was still watching him waiting for him to answer when John finally spoke. "Look, it just wasn't a good movie for me to watch right now."
Harry gestured him to go on. "Cherish my silence, John."
John smiled but his amusement was short-lived. Harry wanted the truth and in all honesty, she deserved it. Telling her could be risky. Would she reject him?
He took a deep breath before talking. "I'm…sort of in the process of adopting." There. It was out. No taking it back. There was a chance that Harry had not heard him.
"You're what?" She had heard and now she's just in shock.
John rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm considering adopting Sherlock's son."
Harry held up her hands and shook her head to clear it. "Wait. Wait. Back up. Sherlock had a son?"
"Yes. He had this one time thing with this woman, Irene Adler, you don't know her. I don't think it meant anything, maybe not for her, not sure about him – anyway," John's thought process ran away from him before he was able to stop himself and reorganize his thoughts. "She's pregnant with his child. He's due to be born this November or December."
Harry just sat looking at him. The shock was clear on her face. Questions and remarks passed across her face. What they were, John could not decipher. She opened her mouth a couple of times to speak but then changed her mind.
Eventually Harry got up enough strength to ask one of the questions but one question turned into several and her string of ranting began again. "Why?...Why you? Why isn't she keeping him? She was the one having sex. Have her deal with this. You shouldn't be the one responsible. What will she do if you say no? Will she have an abortion? It might be too late for that – "
"Harry!" John cut her off. Harry usually ranted until she said something she regretted later. "If I don't adopt him then she will put him up for adoption. Just like in the movie."
Harry looked back at the TV even though the screen was blank. It gave her something to study while she got her thoughts under control. "And she doesn't want to keep him?"
"Her…Her line of work isn't suitable for children."
Harry started to laugh, "What is she a stripper or something?"
John gave a weak laugh along with her to hide just how uncomfortable and just how close to the truth she was.
Harry didn't buy it for one second. Her face went from giggles to serious in a matter of seconds. "Oh…my god. She is isn't she?"
"No…not exactly – "
"Don't try lying to me John. I know your weird uncomfortable laugh."
"Well she isn't exactly a stripper okay. It's much more complicated than that – anyway, she can't keep him so she asked me if I would."
"So are you?"
John sighed and looked away from her. "I still haven't decided."
"Well don't."
John looked up at her immediately. He had expected something like this from her but to hear it felt worse. "Don't adopt? Why not?" John had not expected to get on the defensive but for some reason, not having his sister tell him to be a parent weighed like a ton of bricks. Did she not think he was a worthy father?
"John, you're still going through…whatever it is you're experiencing. Also, look at this place." She drew his gaze around his flat. "You have scrubbed every inch and not a thing is out-of-place. You probably spend your free time endlessly cleaning."
For the first time, John took a look around his flat with a clear mind. The carpet in his living room was freshly vacuumed. The dining table next to the window was so clean, it was reflecting light. It was most impressive seeing as it was made of wood. The cabinet holding the television was completely clear. No knickknacks or pictures or papers. It was absolutely clear. There was still a prominent smell of lemon cleaner.
"John, you have some serious issues. A baby? I've never been a mom but I know, they cause chaos and messes…I just don't see you living with something like that."
John rubbed the back of his neck and continued to look around the flat. The only thing out-of-place was the newspaper from the morning, and even that, John had to fight the urge to run over and fold it neatly into the recycle. How had things gotten to this point? "I'm in therapy. I've been getting help for…this and this." He said as he pointed to his leg, which had now begun to bother him since Harry had first pointed out the cleanliness of his flat.
"I know you are…I'm just looking out for you. And the baby. I don't want you having a mental breakdown and leaving the kid on a park bench or something."
John's paranoia kicked in at her words. I can't trust my therapist. How am I expected to trust myself with a baby? Harry buried her face in her hands and tried to think it all through. Beside her, John was still going through his panic attack.
After a while, Harry spoke again, "John, I don't want to scare you. More like give you a reality check. I think old John, pre-Sherlock's death John, would have been able to mentally handle something like this. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe a baby is what this place needs though." Again she gestured to his flat. "Could you do this by yourself?"
"I thought I could. But now I'm not so sure."
Harry sat staring at him. John eventually looked away because her eyes only showed pity.
"John…I don't feel comfortable with some…woman blackmailing you into fathering her child."
"I'm not being blackmailed."
"Be the father or he gets sent to an orphanage? That's pretty much blackmail."
Once again, John and Harry sat in silence. John was about to stand up and find something to do when Harry finally spoke. "Is it a boy?"
Of all the questions John imagined her asking, that was not the one he was expecting. John cleared his throat and answered, "Umm…yeah. Irene's almost five months along…His name's going to be Hamish."
Harry jolted at the sound of his name. She looked at him with wide eyes. "Hamish? Your middle name? You're naming your first-born after yourself?"
"He isn't mine yet. I haven't signed anything."
"But his name is going to be Hamish?"
"Umm. Yeah that's the plan."
Harry smiled as her eyes began to water. John just looked at her wondering if he had done something wrong. Eventually Harry rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat before speaking.
"I'm…I'm really happy for you."
John cocked his head to one side and tried studying her expression. "What are you talking about? A few minutes ago you were telling me to just scratch the whole thing. That I shouldn't even be thinking about becoming a father."
"Well…I still think that but…I don't see you getting any better. There isn't anything happening that will somehow fix all of this." She gestured to him. "You refuse to see other people. You live alone. I worry about you constantly. I know when I divorced from Clara, I spent several nights thinking about her and dreaming about her. I can only imagine what you must be going through. To see your best friend fall like that…I'm better now. I love my job. I live in a new place. I go out and meet people all the time. But you…I think we're reaching the end of the line. What else is there to keep you going? Plus, you should see yourself when you mention his name. He's not even born yet and I can already tell you love him."
John looked away. Love? He hadn't even thought about it. The thought of having a small living person to raise and be here long after he was gone…it was daunting, scary, and exciting. He had been lacking in excitement lately. Perhaps a child would give that edge.
"Do you have any ultrasound pictures?"
Her question pulled John out of his reverie. "Oh. Umm…yeah. I have one from a few weeks ago."
John got up and went to his room to fetch the picture. That first day he had learned about the pregnancy Irene had slipped him the ultrasound picture when he wasn't looking. John had found it the next day in his pants pocket and stuffed it in his sock drawer, filed away as something he did not want to look at. He went to the drawer and ruffled around the socks until he found it buried underneath. John looked at the photo and sighed.
The photo was extremely grainy but you could still see the body of a 14 centimeter long fetus. Irene had been 18 weeks along at the time and the child was progressing nicely. The spine and skull were probably the things most prominent in the picture. The body almost seemed too small for such a large head but it was normal for a fetus. Soon he would grow into it. John couldn't help thinking how much the fetus had changed. Irene would be 21 weeks now. If all was going well, Hamish had begun to have dreams. Also, his skin would be all wrinkly. In the coming weeks that would all smooth out.
John shut his sock drawer and went back into the living room. Harry was sitting on a stool at the counter munching on crisps waiting for John. He handed her the photo and she instantly smiled at the child on the piece of paper.
"Is it normal to be able to see so much of the spinal cord?"
John smiled and responded, "Yes. The skin is translucent at this stage. His bones have just begun to develop and soon he will gain body fat to cover the bones."
"Oh," she replied and continued to study it. "Well you shouldn't have this hidden away in your bedroom. You should have this up on display." She opened his kitchen drawers in search of tape. Once she found it, she ripped off a piece and taped the ultrasound photo to his fridge. "There," she said.
John looked at his refrigerator. It was completely bare except for the picture. Actually, the entire flat was bare except for the picture. Soon John would probably have to start filling it with more baby things. He stopped himself. He had not even signed the adoption papers. It's too soon to think about preparing the flat for a baby.
John went back to his room and opened his bedside table drawer. He looked around it until he found what he was looking for. When he had the papers in hand, he went back to the kitchen, ripped a piece of the tape off and taped the adoption papers next to the ultrasound picture.
He could feel Harry smile next to him as they stepped back to look at the newly decorated refrigerator. It no longer felt as strange as before to wonder what adoption would be like. The fetus in the photograph was just waiting for a home and a look around told John, the flat was waiting for a baby.
