Sherlock can hear Mary's sobs and John's pacing through the closed doors. He never meant for this to happen. He thought of all the possibilities. All except one, another girl taken like Hamish. It made him miscalculate and ultimately lost Hamish in the end. Stealthily, he opened the door and entered. It took a few minutes for the people inside to notice him but all he got was a seething look from Mary. John was ignoring him, instead he went to Mary's side and whispered to her. It wasn't long before Mary left the room.

"Tea or coffee?" asked John as he was heading to the kitchen.

"None for me please," replied Sherlock as he looked around the house. The last time he was here, a little boy was running around. He never liked children, but he liked Hamish. Brave like his parents and clever like Sherlock. He was always asking him questions, about his cases and their favourite subject, chemistry. He brought joy and love not only to his parent's lives but to Sherlock's also. He was one of the few people he opened up his heart to and that brought a smile to his lips.

John found Sherlock smiling as he entered the room. He was holding Hamish's picture. It was taken during his sixth birthday. He was so happy then. They allowed him to skip school, instead they went sight-seeing around London then ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, Mycroft's treat of course. Sherlock joined them after just solving a case and gave Hamish an unwrapped chemistry set, not like the kid's set of course. Hamish would've been just insulted. His intelligence surpassed those of his age by then. No, Sherlock gave him his very own set, the ones people used in laboratories and the like. John suspected that Sherlock asked for Molly's help in getting those for Hamish but as long as Hamish was happy, he was happy. But Hamish was gone now and once again, John felt his hate and grief surface again.

"Sit," said John in a commanding tone. Sherlock looked at him, surprised. "I prefer to stand," replied Sherlock.

"I'm not asking," shot back the other man as he took a seat himself. Moving like a cat, Sherlock approached the chair in front of John silently and took a seat too. He gave John a few minutes before breaking the silence.

"I am sorry."

"I am sorry too," murmured John as he took a sip from his cup again. "How?"

"How what?" asked Sherlock.

"How could you have miscalculated? I saw you. I've been with you in many of your cases. I have even blogged about you, even until now. I saw your brilliance, your cleverness and your ability to take everything in so how could you make a mistake?"

"I am clever but I am not perfect, I thought you'd know that better that everyone."

"I do, but I hoped. I believed in you."

"I know."

"You think you're so clever. Two tours in Iraq and what do I come home too? The most terrible thing ... you."

"John I think you're being too melodramatic. I never -"

"Get out Sherlock."

"I loved Hamish like he was my own. It wasn't my fault that he too was brave like you. He would've been alive right now if you haven't taught him to be as brave as you."

"Brave? Yes he was brave as me but at least I didn't put him in line of danger. I never used him as a messenger to Lestrade when you are being watched. You might've adored him but you didn't love him enough to ensure that he would be safe before getting your culprit," shouted John. "GET. OUT. SHERLOCK. AND STAY OUT OF MY FAMILY, OR AT LEAST WHAT'S LEFT OF IT."

"I really am sorry," said Sherlock before leaving.

He did not know how long he was sitting like that with his hands on his face and life drained out of him when he felt Mary's arms around him. "You shouldn't have said that," whispered Mary.

"Said what?"

"That he didn't love Hamish."

"He didn't. If he did -"

"You know he did John. And Hamish loved him too."

"I know," signed John dejectedly. "Do you hate him?"

"No. Do you?"

"No. Will you forgive him?

"I already had."

"You did?"

"Yes. While I was listening to you two. He didn't mean for it to happen."

"I miss him."

"I miss him too."

He broke out of Mary's embrace and tried to stand up. He must've been there for long. He was having cramps in his leg but all of the discomfort disappeared when he saw Mary's face. Gone was the smile he got used to everytime he looked at his face. Instead all he saw was the ghost of the old Mary with hollow and sad eyes. They were both tired, grieving and life, which is worse. "I would've been my life for Hamish," mumbled John.

"I know," replied Mary, "I would too, but somehow I don't think it's what he wants."

"No. No he wouldn't." John smiled painfully. "Come on, let's get to bed," replied John as he offered his hand to Mary. And so the two of them went, locked in each other's warm embrace but none of them got any sleep that night. Both were thinking of the child they just lost.

"Where is Sherlock?" asked John to Mycroft who was standing by the tree near Hamish's grave. It was just after the ceremony of Hamish's burial. They buried Hamish in Sherlock's old grave, Mycroft felt that the child would've been thrilled of the idea of using his old uncle's grave seeing that no one's using it anyways. Yet John hadn't seen Sherlock the whole time. He remembered sending him an invitation but received no response. Mary had been pressuring him to call Sherlock but he just couldn't. He preferred to tell him personally what he and Mary talked about that night.

"You mean he hadn't told you?" replied Mycroft.

"Told us what?" asked Mary as he joined the two who just finished talking to some of the other attendants. Truthfully though, they already had enough of condolences. Words don't ease the suffering or fill the void that came with Hamish's death. Nevertheless, he was grateful for Mary's courage and strength to deal with them.

"He left. As soon as the case was closed."

"Hamish's case?" inquired John, shocked. "He caught the culprit?"

"Yes and destroyed the man before tipping Lestrade where the man was. He left as soon as he solved it."

"How long ago was this?" inquired Miranda who was taken aback by the revelation Mycroft just shared with them.

"Two days ago. I suspect he's already bored but he rest assured he will stay away. My brother is many things but he is a keeper of promise and you should know, he blamed himself for Hamish's death too. I only hope you'll forgive him. Good bye John. Mary." Said Mycroft as he walked away from the Watson couple who were now both crying in each other's arms.

"He will never know," said Mary when they were alone in the room that night.

"No, he won't," agreed John.

"It's sad, John. I wanted him to be a part of our child's life too."

"So do I but I don't think he would be pleased to know we named the child after him."

"I suppose not but at least, we can say we have another Sherlock with us," said Mary.

"Yes we can," as John placed a loving kiss on his wife's forehead before kissing the bump on his wife's stomach and whispered, "Good Night Sherlock."