Sherlock is being sweet again. After all this time I am still surprised when it happens, even though I really shouldn't be at this point. He's laying absolutely still in bed so that he won't wake me up. I reach over and grab is hand to let him know that I'm awake.
"What do you think of 'Pops?'" I ask.
"Goes the weasel?" he asks confused.
I chuckle, "Usually it's you who is asking questions without enough context to answer them, so I suppose it was my turn. No, as a name for Rosie to call you," I explain.
He ponders, "She's called me Sherlock her whole life, why would we want to change now?"
"You are far more than just Sherlock to her, you know. You're her father. Besides, whatever we decided on for Rosie, we could use the same thing for Theo if he ever wanted to move away from calling the two of us by our first names, and for the new baby."
"I was serious about wanting the new baby to call me mom," he says.
That surprises me a little. I don't want to talk about how this is a great way to get the child teased, when Sherlock is already sensitive to that happening to his children.
"How about we pick something a bit more…poetic for both of us then. Maybe we pick something in another language?"
He chuckles, "Sorry John, but mom in other languages is still going to sound like mom. Why don't you just tell me that you hate the idea instead of trying to fool a human lie detector?"
"I don't hate the idea," I correct, "I just worry it might have a negative impact on our kids, and I know that's the last thing that you would ever want."
He nods his agreement.
"But if it's going to take something important away form you, or if it's going to feel like a lie for you to call themselves their father than we're not going to do it," I tell him.
He shrugs his shoulder, "What in the end is the difference between a father and a mother, or for that matter between a father and a Sherlock? It doesn't matter what they call me, it matters what things are like between us day in and day out."
"I agree," I say grinning at him.
"They can call me Pater, then. They could all do with knowing a bit more Latin," he says with a look of disgust.
"You do understand that one of them isn't even born yet, right? And that another is a toddler, and the last one you're responsible for teaching, so if there really is anything lacking in his education it is 100% your fault." I nuzzle against him, and try to picture it, three children all around us, calling me daddy and him Pater.
"Sherlock, I want a weird name too," I demand.
"Pater is not a weird name," he pouts.
"Sorry, I just mean…I don't want the name dad when you have a name which is a bit more distant."
"Rosie already calls you dad."
"She's smart enough to learn something new," I point out.
"She certainly is," he says with a grin.
"Well, How about Abba then? A bit of Hebrew for them?" He asks.
"I love it," I sigh contentedly on his chess. "We'll tell ask Rosie to make the change today, I think. We'll tell Theo he's welcome to call us by those names, but let's let him make the choice of when and if he wants to start using it, eh?"
"Of course!" Sherlock says enthusiastically.
-0-
"Dada! Tea!" Rosie demands bitterly not happy about how long (a few seconds) I've forced her to wait for her favorite beverage.
"It's going to take a second, honey. Also, we've decided that you can start calling me Abba. It means Daddy in Hebrew. Then you can call Sherlock Pater. That means Daddy in Latin. You can call him that, because he is your Daddy too."
"Abba," she says pointing at me, and then pointing at her father he repeats, "Patta."
"Pater, but that's close enough little one," Sherlock says looking at her with such joy in his face that I kick myself for not having done this months ago.
"Theo, you're welcome to call us these names too if you want," I say smiling at him.
He looks down looking bashful, and nervous, "I…I'm not sure that I can."
My heart suddenly thuds down deep in my chest, but I work hard to make my voice sound accepting and warm, "That's fine honey. You can explain to us why calling us those words is something you're not interested in, or you cannot, whatever you are comfortable with."
"No, I meant…can you write them down? I wasn't really listening, and I don't want to get them wrong," he says looking up at me as if I were a particularly dull creature.
"We could pick something more common if you would be more comfortable with that," I tell him.
"Oh no, I'm actually glad you went for something that I didn't call my own father. Words like "dad" and "father" don't mean to me what it means to most people. You guys are so much more than a "dad" or "father" to me, and I really want a different word to describe it."
I pull him into a hug.
"At least let me have a turn before you smoother him John!" Sherlock exclaims in annoyance, "He was being sweet to me too!"
When we finally free Theo he is looking at us cautiously, "What do you tell people about me?" he asks.
"We don't tell them about your past. We wouldn't do that unless you told us that it was okay," I tell him in a way which I think is comforting.
Sherlock shoots me a look of reproach which almost turns my stomach a little bit, "No, he means what do we call them. Theo, we've been telling people that you are our son."
He smiles, "Even since the beginning?" he asks insecurely.
"Yes, we knew that's what you were when you came to live with us," Sherlock says confidently.
"Is it okay that I haven't been calling your guys my parents?" he asks.
"Of course, honey, you get to define your own family," I assure him.
"It's not okay with me that we didn't make it clear what you were too us though," Sherlock says glumly. "I hate the idea that you ever had to question if you fit, if you belonged. You are ours, forever, and for always."
Theo grins. Then a worry crosses over his face like a shadow. "You don't tell people I did drugs?"
"It's not exactly the sort of thing which comes up in conversation all the time," Sherlocks says.
"You're ashamed of me," Theo accuses in a soft voice.
"No, honey, never," I say kneeling down so I insert myself into his line of sight. "Remember that both of us choose this. We went out and looked for a kid who had a history of drug use. But we also wanted to protect you. You are the only person who should ever be able to choose who gets to know that about you, and who doesn't. That's all I meant by that comment."
"Do my grandparents know?" he asks. It warms my heart to hear that sweeping term which I know without asking includes the seven people in his life which have stepped up to fill that role for him.
"Mrs. Hudson does honey. But none of the others do," I tell him.
"I think my mom has guessed, and if she has she's certainly told my father. She knows what tract marks look like, and I think she might be looking at your arms now and again to see if she sees new ones," Sherlock corrects.
"If I tell the rest of them will I lose anyone?" he asks seriously.
I give it careful thought before I answer, "No, you won't."
"And if you were going to lose someone by being honest they are not the sort of person that you want in your life anyway," Sherlock says. I look at him, standing strong before the words that few in the world could really back up with action, and think about all the things he could be rejected for.
He's a socially awkward man who is sometimes abrasive to the point of cruelty to others. He is so smart that it is hard to not picture him getting teased for it when he was younger. He is gay, and demisexual. Add on the fact that he has very specific interests in things that few others share (tobacco ash and mud particulates to name a few).
I touch his hand, and he grins at me continuing his speech to our son. "There are a lot of people on this planet who don't deserve your time, Theo. Having a few odd things about you is a great way to weed out the ones who are not worth your time from the ones who are. You are definitely one of the ones worth knowing."
I stand up to kiss Sherlock. He kisses me back while ruffling Theo's hair, and when Rosie makes a little whimper that shows she feels left out he lifts her up to join the rest of us in a family hug.