Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or the royals or anything!

Author's note: Sorry for the slight delay, please review and thank you! No reviews last chapter except one (who is an awesome friend). Please, do tell me what you think!

John woke up and he felt a bit agitated. He looked over to the bedside clock and sighed, it was only six o'clock, he didn't have lie-ins often, but nobody else woke him up this time! He rolled over and faced Sherlock, just lay there and watched him sleep. It calmed John, the man didn't know why he felt so ill at ease, but he did. Sherlock lay on his back, his eyes closed, and his face peaceful. Before they'd had Hamish he wasn't such a good sleeper, but it seemed that having a two year old to run around after helped him settle.

After ten minutes John knew he wouldn't get back to sleep so he got up and put his dressing gown on. He went over to Hamish's cot, he was getting a bit big for a cot, that'd be the next thing to buy, a big boy bed. Goodness, he was growing up so fast! Hamish was fast asleep and quite amusingly lying in the same position as his papa. Both of them lay on their backs, their hands on their stomachs, their legs splayed out and their mouths slightly open with looks of calm on their faces.

John grabbed his phone and took a picture of each of them then went to get ready for the day.

Sherlock woke up with a jolt as Hamish began crying. Sherlock reached over and found John wasn't lying beside him; the bed was quite cold so John must have been gone for a while. Sherlock stretched and got up while saying "It's alright, Misha, I'm coming. Papa's here." He said and picked Hamish up. He held Hamish against his chest. Hamish stopped crying and snuggled into Sherlock's throat. It seemed that this morning Hamish was in his slow mood, if he woke up like that then he'd be quite lethargic for about fifteen minutes. Sherlock laid him on the changing mat, removed his nappy and cleaned him up then went to the bathroom and ran a small bath.

"Baff?" Hamish asked quietly.

"That's right, it's about time you had a bath." Sherlock said and tested the water. He lowered Hamish into it and the boy sat there tiredly while Sherlock bathed him. Sherlock smiled fondly as half way through the little boy yawned and rubbed his eyes.

"Sit there, don't move." Sherlock said firmly and he crossed the room to the towel rack and brought back Hamish's blue towel.

Sherlock lifted him out and wrapped him up in the warm towel; he looked all snug and content.

"Now, what shall we wear today?" Sherlock pondered aloud as he went through the luggage. He found some comfortable clothing and lay Hamish on the bed, he dried Hamish, put talcum powder on him then changed him into a nappy, a pair of blue jeans, a red t-shirt with a dragon on it, a blue and white stripy jumper with a hood and some little monkey socks.

"There we are, all ready for the day!" Sherlock pressed a light kiss to the tip of the two year old's nose and gave his sides a little tickle. Hamish giggled and reached up for his papa for a cuddle.

"Where daddy?" he asked as he snuggled into Sherlock's chest.

"I think he woke up early this morning, we'll look for him in a minute, I just need to have a shower and change."

In the corner of the room John had set up Hamish's play area, there were colourful gates around it so that they could put him in there and he wouldn't get out and hurt. They normally used this if they were alone with Hamish and needed to do something, like shower, and they needed somewhere safe for him to stay but also keep him entertained. The area had toys all over it, be them cuddly or interactive, they were there.

Sherlock put Hamish in the playpen and said "You stay there and play and I'll be back in a minute, alright? I'm just having a shower and I'll leave the door open so I can hear you, okay? Shout if you need me." Sherlock ruffled his son's hair and went for a shower.

Hamish amused himself with a fluffy dinosaur and a car toy while Sherlock quickly showered and got into one of his favourite suits.

"Come on then, let's go and find daddy." Sherlock picked Hamish up and looked over to John's bedside clock to see that it was nine o'clock.

With Hamish settled on his hip Sherlock made his way through the palace and first checked the living room but found it empty.

"Sir?" a guard said as he walked through a corridor.

"Yes?" Sherlock asked.

"Everyone is eating breakfast." The man explained.

"Ah." Sherlock walked to the dining room. He entered and slouched as he found John still wasn't there.

"George, do you know where John is?" Sherlock queried.

"No, why?" George asked.

"He wasn't there when I woke up and I can't find him. Hold on, I know." Sherlock said with his eyes brightening.

"Would you like me to feed Hamish some breakfast?" George asked.

"Yes. That would be helpful." Sherlock dragged the highchair from the corner of the room to beside George and settled Hamish in it "He'll have toast and jam this morning, if he doesn't want that, some cereal." He said and left.

"I can feed him." Penelope said, reaching over for the jam.

"No, it's alright, I can do it." George waved her off and was already putting jam on his uneaten toast.

Penelope slouched in her chair, but quickly recovered and sat up properly again and ate.

Sherlock made his way outside and found John where he thought he'd be, in the gardens. John liked fresh air.

"John?" he called over as he approached the man who was stood by the bed of sunflowers.

John looked over at him and gave a small smile.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded as Sherlock put an arm around him.

"Are you sure?" Sherlock pushed.

"I don't feel very settled today." John said.

"Your post-traumatic stress?" Sherlock queried.

"I think so, maybe. God, I hope not. I thought I should come outside and get some fresh air. Is Hamish alright?" John asked.

"He's fine, bathed and now eating breakfast. John, can I help?" Sherlock asked.

"I… I'll be fine." John smiled up at him and gave him a kiss.

Sherlock smiled "Come on then, Hamish wants his daddy." And he led John into the dining room by the hand.

"Daddy!" Hamish shouted happily.

"Good morning!" John smiled and kissed his forehead then sat down in his seat.

"Where were you?" Harry asked.

"Just in the gardens." John answered his sister.

"Johnny-boy, you get gayer every day." Harry said.

"Shut up, Harry." John said.

"Harry." George warned.

"Jesus, calm down, I was just saying." Harry said and returned to her cereal.

"No, you're trying to irritate me, like you always are! Have you ever even once thought about how I feel? I hate the name 'Johnny-boy', I tell you ever time I see you!" John shouted, exasperated.

"But… I'm your sister! When you were ten you said I was the only one who was allowed to call you 'Johnny-boy'!" Harry protested.

"I'm thirty two now, Harry, I've grown up." John said, pushing his food around his plate.

"John, it's just a nickname!" Harry cried in anguish.

"Yes, it's a nickname that Moriarty teased me with when I was three months pregnant with a bomb strapped to my chest! So sorry if I've gone off it but it brings back some rather horrid memories." John said shortly, he put his fork down and said "Gottle o'gear." He stood up and repeated, "Gottle o'gear." And he went and leant over his sister and finally said "Gottle. O'. Gear." Then left.

Hamish started bawling in his highchair, he could sense his dad's upset, he was always like that when John got tetchy and upset and angry. Sherlock picked Hamish up and left quickly, following John's footsteps. He found the man sat on the front steps of the palace. Hamish had calmed down now and Sherlock sat next to John and passed Hamish over to the man.

John sat Hamish sideways on his lap and held the boy close; he closed his eyes and took some calming breaths. Sherlock wrapped an arm around his back and John leant into his side, resting his head on the genius' shoulder. Sherlock placed his chin on John's head and they sat in silence.

"I'll be alright." John said into Sherlock's shirt.

"I know you will." Sherlock said.

"Daddy?" Hamish asked.

"Yes, Misha?" John replied.

"Okay?" Hamish asked.

"I will be. How can I not? I've got my dashing husband and my wonderful son right by my side!" John smiled reassuringly and Hamish giggled and snuggled in closer to John's chest.

Elizabeth excused herself politely from the table and curiously made her way around the palace; she just about gave up her search for Sherlock, John, and Hamish when she looked out to the big open doors of the palace. There on the steps sat the three. She could see the family cuddled together and it made her heard fill with warmth. Though she had always been fond of Sherlock, he had never had much warmth about him, never had much kindness, but with John and Hamish, she saw so much warmth and love and care and happiness in Sherlock, it was beautiful.