PART 12


When Theo woke up, his first instinct was to take a piss. He hopped up and out of bed, groaning at his stiff leg muscles. As he wandered towards the bathroom, he thought absently about going for a jog. He was in cross country at Miami High, and running often cleared his head: something that would do him some good while in London, especially because of the craziness with his parents.

Theo snorted, rolling his eyes at the thought of his mother and father. Yeah, he thought, I could really use a run.

After peeing, he stared at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed away his morning breath with a blue toothbrush. His blue-green eyes were red from sleep and his high cheekbones blotched from lying against his hand while he rested. He was shirtless, and he stared at the faint six pack on his abdomen. He knew that girls liked him at Miami High. However, none of them ever caught his attention.

No one but Allie, his mind thought suddenly.

He spit out the minty toothpaste at the thought. Allie Watson certainly was different from anyone else he knew. He didn't know if it was her pretty green eyes filled with mischief that unnerved him, or if was her high, British voice that told him that she liked his full name (a name that many made fun of him endlessly for) better than his nickname. Maybe it was when she huffed at him and then proceeded to whip her hair at him with an air of sass. He didn't know why, but he knew once he sorted out things with his father that the first person who he would pursue a relationship with would be Allie Watson, all her of sauciness included.

He wiped his mouth with a hand towel and walked out of the bathroom. As he took the stairs two at a time, he smelled his mother frying one of her omelets, and he smiled widely. His mom hadn't made him an omelet in the longest time! When he entered the kitchen, he saw his short, pretty mother, her long, brown hair pulled up into a wild bun wearing a pair of black sweats and a gray tank-top. She was humming as she cooked.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted, making his presence known.

She turned around, rewarding him with a smile, and said, "Morning, hon. How did you sleep?

Theo could hear the worry in her voice, and his immediate thought was to soothe her fears. He hadn't thought about his father in anger, since John told him about his parents' romantic history. Theo decided he wanted to judge Sherlock on his actions towards his mother on his own when he spoke to him. "I slept fine, Mom," he said quietly. "I am fine."

Molly bit her lip, looking at her son with observant eyes. He smiled at her warmly, and she relaxed her tense posture. "I am happy, dear."

Theo nodded. "I know, Mom."

His mother turned back to her cooking, flipping the omelet over to let the other side cook. "I am here only to make you breakfast, but then I am going to Bart's to work for a few hours."

He rolled his eyes at his mother. "There's a difference between my 'few hours' and your 'few hours,' Mom."

Molly laughed at that. "Okay, so I will probably be gone for a good ten hours. I only came back to make you breakfast and make sure you were okay." Theo could hear the lie in his mother's voice because of her biting tone. She left the crime scene for a different reason, but he didn't press her due to the way her shoulders tensed again as she gritted out the lie.

"Okay," Theo said, feigning a pout, "I guess I could manage." The fact that he had a whole day to himself didn't make Theo upset: no, just the opposite. He planned on making good use of his time without being under his mother's watchful eye. A thought entered his mind that made him scared and excited all at the same time: meeting his father.

Molly turned to wink at her son. "Yes, I am sure you could. I will leave money, because I am sure that you will not be in the flat all day." She grabbed a plate out of the cupboard, sparing him a glance with a pensive expression. "I know you will go wandering about. You have too much of your father in you to sit tight."

He didn't know how to respond. His mother basically implied that she knew what his plan was. "Mom..." he began, trailing off when his brain could not find the right words.

She stuck her hand out as she flipped the omelet again, making sure that both sides cooked evenly, in an effort to silence. "Theo, I know that you plan on meeting your father, and I told you I don't want to be involved. I will not stop you from seeing him, and I plan on letting it be your decision to meet him: not his, not mine, yours. I will support you no matter what." She sighed. "You are my son, and I love you. That's what counts."

Theo felt tears prick in his eyes. This was his mother, Molly Hooper - unyielding, undying love and the greatest kindness on Earth. Theo was proud to be her son, and everyday he thanked whatever higher power that existed that she was his mother.

Molly placed his omelet in front of him with a smile that held no trace of tears. She kissed his crazy brown mop of hair gently and said, "Alrighty, I'm going to go change and go to work. Text me every couple hours so I don't worry."

"Okay, Mom," he mumbled, trying to keep the tears out of his voice.

Without another word, Molly went upstairs to change, leaving Theo to eat his omelet, as he lost himself in thought.


As Theo stared at the flat on Baker Street, he felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't bad, but it certainly wasn't good either. He felt jumpy, unsure of himself, and he let the self-doubt overwhelm him.

He first got this feeling when he called John on his phone, again surprising the doctor when he asked for Sherlock's address. John gave it to him willingly but cautioned him about how sketchy Sherlock's schedule was.

"Don't be surprised to find he isn't home, Theo," John had told him in a concerned voice.

Theo laughed and said that he would manage, just like he told his mother, but he couldn't help but wonder how this was going to work. How would his father react? Would he be pleasantly surprised. Would he be angrily surprised? Would he be surprised at all? The night that John had told him about Theo's parents' past, he also talked about how Theo's father had a habit of deducing people and their actions. Did his father already know what he was planning?

Theo hoped not. He would feel terribly foolish about hiding out in his father's front yard when Sherlock knew all along that he was out there.

Looking at all the windows, Theo was surprised that there was a light on in the kitchen. This was a sure sign that Sherlock was home. Theo doubted that his father was stupid and careless enough to leave on his kitchen light when his flat was empty. Theo stood on the steps of the stairs that let to the door. He put his foot on each stair meticulously, not wanting to make any noise.

You came here on your own terms, he thought, trying to calm himself. You will enter on your own terms.

His heart started to pound as he reached the last step. As he stood, both feet on the top stair, he knew that the moment he walked in that his family dynamic would change forever. His mother would go back to Miami at the end of the summer, and if Theo took the next step, he knew that he would most likely be spending his next summers in England with his father. Could he risk abandoning his mother?

I will not abandon her, Theo thought confidently. I will just be adding to my family.

He took the next step with a sureness that he did not know he possessed at the time, and he walked silently to the front door. 221b. Theo took a deep breath, steadying himself as he put his finger against the doorbell. He touched it gently, not pressing hard enough to make it ring. He let out a shaky breath and pushed it.

A harsh ding dong resounded inside the flat, and Theo heard faint footsteps from inside stop suddenly.

Keep calm, Theodore, his mind - sounding eerily like his mother - told him. He listened to his conscience intently and held back a flinch as the door opened to reveal a dark, looming figure.

Theo could almost look his father in eye, and he felt rather than saw Sherlock's gaze upon him.

His father's figure moved out of the door to stand out on the platform with Theo. This was Theo's first good look at his father, and Theo knew immediately why his mother was so taken with him. Sherlock had this look about him that was otherworldly. Despite her history of reading porn-like novels, his mother matured and moved to supernatural literature. His father really did look like an ethereal being, with high cheek bones, bright, cat-like eyes, and a tall, slender frame. The aura around Sherlock oozed confidence, arrogance, and... something else that Theo could not put his finger on.

"Theo..."

A voice echoed around Theo, and he could not help but jump back slightly. Theo let out a small gasp. It's like talking to myself, Theo thought wildly. It was true. Though Sherlock's voice sounded older, deeper, and more mature, Theo and his father shared the same baritone voice that many found striking and scary at the same time.

Theo didn't know if he could respond to his father. He's knees shook with anticipation, and his hands felt clammy, cold, and sweaty, but it turned out he didn't need to because his father continued, "You don't need to be afraid, Theo." Sherlock's voice was soft and charming, but Theo could feel another emotion lurking, hidden well in his father's aloof tone. To most, Theo decided as he watched his father's expressions, Sherlock's voice would be hard to read. To Theo's surprise, his father's voice sounded exactly like Theo's when he was trying to hide something. "I will not hurt you like I hurt your mother. I know that John has told you." Theo wanted to wince, but he held back the urge. He knew that he couldn't come straight out and talk about his mother to Sherlock. No, he had to wait.

Theo found his voice then. "John told you about our conversation?"

Sherlock shook his head, his graying black curls falling into his eyes. "No, but I know nonetheless." He smirked at his son, his voice holding his smile, and Theo let his own small grin play at his lips at his father's good-natured tone.

"So I guess you don't need me to tell you who I am, what my name is?" Theo asked, trying to keep away the trembling in his voice. They reached uncharted territory for both of them. Theo didn't know how to talk to his father.

Sherlock shook his head, his smirk disappearing to form a serious expression. "No. I know who you are."

Theo felt a lump building in his throat. It was illogical to feel the need to cry, but Theo felt it anyway, and he allowed it. Theo mimicked his father's solemn face, trying to keep himself from letting out tears. "Who... who am I then?" he whispered quietly.

He did not know why, but Theo needed to hear his father say it - say that he was his son. It was physically clear to the world that Theo was a Holmes due the sharing of eyes, high cheekbones, and voice, but there was a difference between acknowledging that Theo was his child mentally and voicing it so that anyone else around them could hear it.

His father looked at him with his piercing eyes. Blue-green met blue-green in a powerful stare down, neither participant willing to look away. Theo, determined not to be the first one to blink, held his father's unnerving gaze with fire swirling in his eyes.

"You are Theodore John Hooper," Sherlock said quietly, his gaze softening as he murmured the words, "and you are my son."


A/N: Alrighty, father and son meet! I am extremely anxious for how you all will react to this chapter, let me tell you! Leave your reviews please! Reviews are love!

PS: BIG THANKS FOR MY BETA, KATHMAK! Love you! Also, thank you all my reviewers for your support and continual reads! It shocks me that I have over one hundred reviews - OVER A HUNDRED! Sherlock kisses for all of you!