Our souls collided before we met

Part 2

Chapter 13

Actually it is and baby makes three

One week later

Mycroft has been in the coma for a full two weeks now, and so far his progress is good, the skin grafts have taken onto his skin, and halfway grown without any serious complications. The plastic surgeon is very positive about Mycroft's recovery and is adamant there would be minimal scarring later on. Ever since that moment a week ago where he cried, he hasn't shown any emotional distress or anything at all.

Sherlock was getting bored and had taken to spend most of his days walking around the hospital and in moments his parents wasn't watching him, the streets of London, never very far off but still.

The doctors said one more week, and then they will lower the drugs and revive him out of the coma. They were counting down the days.

Two years later (coma)

Mycroft put the empty bottle on the dresser; he was too busy looking down at his son, sleeping peacefully in his crib. Greg built it and painted it, it was stunning, but not as stunning as the small human laying all scrunch up and tight in his blanket. His mouth was slightly open, the little tongue resting at the end, his small fingers clutched and squeezed and then relaxed as he slept.

So peaceful, yet the little man's dad's lives were anything but peaceful, trying to get everything ready, schedule their workloads with parenthood is turning out to be quite the challenge.

Still, he wouldn't change it for anything in the world, and neither would Greg. He can understand now, to some extent, his parent's endless worrying, the expectations they had for him and Sherlock, for their lives, the choices they made…the career one day, he could see it, however when he looks at his little boy, could also understand that desire for him to be happy.

He never regretted his decisions in attending Oxford, or the life choices he made from moving from underneath his parents pressure to doing what he wanted, a job that took him across the world, a job that led him here, a job that brought him his husband and now his son. Yes, there were bad too, like the accident, although his leg is given him less pain than a couple years ago, it is still a constant reminder and he would always need to juggle holding his son and his cane as he walked.

Still it was more good than bad, his book became a bestseller, and it gave him a spot as one of the highest respected academics in his field. They would come to him for consultations if they wanted to build a world, in a novel, a movie set or documentary. The money he made allowed him to provide for his family, to buy a big house in London, and set up a trust for his son, and for them.

There's really nothing more he could ask for as every desire, hope and dream he ever had had come true, the proof was in front of him, in the band across his finger, in the award on his wall, in the baby sleeping in front of him. He was so happy.

"What are you thinking?" Greg asked as he stood next to Mycroft, his hand reaching for Mycroft. Their hands so familiar after all these years, yet it still feels brand new to Mycroft.

"What he might be one day, maybe a neurosurgeon…I much rather prefer that from a life in the Army, maybe even a scientist, discovering new things…" Greg laughed.

"What about a world famous soccer player, the games, the fame and the money…." Greg replied and leaned over to run cover their son with the blanket that slid down on one side. Mycroft smiled at that, trust his husband to go for something that connects with people; he has always been the extrovert.

"A world famous soccer player? You do realise we will be required to watch every match?" Mycroft replied finally moving his eyes to Greg who smiled widely.

"Oh yeah…that would make his dads very happy."

"Dad…I think scientist." Mycroft responded, and then looked down at their son.

"You know….he can do anything as long as it makes him happy, and if it is his passion, whether sports, music or even a writer…I will give him the support I never had."

Mycroft allowed himself to be pulled closer by Greg who cupped his face in his hands.

"We will give him the support, we never had."

Mycroft smiled at his husband.

"Yes. Yes we will." They spend another few minutes looking at their sleeping child before they made their way to the door. Once outside in the hallway Mycroft pulled Greg in for a passionate kiss.

"I love you and this life I can have with you, you make me very happy." Greg smiled and pulled him closer, his hands lowering to Mycroft's arse.

"I love you too, and you make me happy, so why don't you let me make you even happier before he wakes up?"

Mycroft nodded and kissing Greg they stumbled to the bedroom.