3
Sherlock had no idea why he was awake. Laying on his back he stared at the ceiling, amazed that the events in his life had turned so that he was back in his own home, with the two people he cared more about than anyone in the world. Joan was sleeping peacefully next to him as her arm draped across his exposed torso. He couldn't shake the memory of all the research he had done into Joan's condition. He couldn't shake the fear that gripped his stomach at the thought of her going through the chemotherapy and all that entailed. She was still Joan, he knew that would never change but he knew that if he could he would swap places with her. Anything other than have her suffering.
"Sherlock?" He snapped his gaze to the side of the bed where Arthur was stood clutching a teddy bear.
"Why are you awake?"
"I can't sleep." Arthur explained. "Do you live here now?"
Sherlock smiled slightly. "Yes."
"Ok."
"Is that something you can accept? I know its been you and Watson, your Mum for a long time." Sherlock slipped out of bed as Arthur nodded. Sherlock grabbed his t shirt. "Look, why don't we let your Mum sleep and we go get something to drink?"
"I'm only 4. I can't sneak out to a bar!"
"I should hope not." Sherlock smiled slightly. He genuinely liked the little boy but could see he was going to be a challenge. If Joan thought Sherlock and Arthur were not getting along there was no way he was going to be a part of their lives. He followed the little boy down stairs to the kitchen as Arthur clutched his teddy.
"I have some things to ask." Arthur climbed on the bar stool as Sherlock headed to the fridge. "I like hot milk."
"Good." Sherlock smiled slightly, appreciating the boy's directness. "I do too."
Arthur smiled. "So."
"You have questions." Sherlock asked. "I understand things are changing. I don't like it when I don't understand things either." He watched as the little boy stared at the table top.
"Are you English?"
"Yes."
"But you live here now? In America."
"Thats correct."
"Ok." Arthur paused. "You work with my Mom?"
"I do."
"OK."
Sherlock poured the warm milk, remembering a time when his own mother would make him and Mycroft hot chocolate milk for them as young boys. He hoped he had made it the way she would have. Arthur took the mug with both hands as he appraised him. Sherlock suddenly felt nervous.
"You should be asleep. You are a child. Children sleep at night."
"Um." Arthur sipped his drink. "This is really good. Thank you Sherlock."
"You're welcome." Sherlock paused. "You have school today."
"It's Saturday. I don't go to school on a Saturday. And we need to talk. Man to man."
"I see." Sherlock felt sick, unsure why he felt intimidated by a child still in kindergarden. Arthur raised an eyebrow as Sherlock wondered how he could be so much like his mother, when he knew he was adopted. He decided not to follow that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the boy.
"You are going to live here?"
"Yes. If that's ok."
"I'm thinking about it." Arthur paused. "Do you snore?"
"No."
"Good. Do you say mean things?"
"I try not to." Sherlock answered honestly.
"Have you ever made my mum cry?"
"Yes." Sherlock sighed. "I didn't mean to and it was a long time ago."
"Why? What happened? You can tell me. I am not a baby."
"I had to go away. I didn't really have a choice. Joan, your mum."
"I know my Mommy is called Joan." Arthur glared at him.
Sherlock nodded. "Of course you do. Well, she was upset that I had to go. She wanted me to stay and I wanted to stay but it was not possible."
"Why?"
"Because I had to work." Sherlock liked the little boy. He could see he was not going to get away with talking to the boy as if he was a baby. Arthur Watson was probably the most astute child he had ever encountered. "The work was far away, in England. So I had to go there. The work took me all over the world, which meant I was away for far longer than I wanted to be."
"I see." The little boy nodded. "So you missed my mom? Did you know about me?"
"I did, yes. To both questions."
"You know she isn't very well? I saw the letter from the doctor with her name on. You only get letters like that if you aren't well. I didn't read it because I know its not nice to read letters that aren't written to you and I knew Mommy would not like me to do that." The words all came out in a rush. "So, you are going to look after her? I could use the help."
"Yes." Sherlock smiled. "I am not going away again. I am staying here with you and Joan and yes I will help you look after her."
"Good."
"So? Any more questions?"
"I think I will get some more. I will let you know." Arthur yawned as Sherlock realised there was someone else in the kitchen with them.
"Hi."
"And what are you two doing up at this crazy hour?" Joan smiled. Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"We couldn't sleep and we had things to discuss." Sherlock explained. Arthur yawned again.
"Bed." Joan took the mug from the table in front of her son. Arthur smiled and nodded before hugging her.
"I love you Mom."
"Love you too. Bed."
He nodded before picking up his teddy bear and making his way to his room. Joan turned back to Sherlock as he smiled slightly. "Is anything ok?"
"I believe your son and I have come to an understanding." Sherlock smiled. He closed the door behind Arthur before turning to her. "I think he had his questions answered. But I have to say, I have some too."
"Oh?"
"When were you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" Joan felt her pulse quicken. She knew there was going to be a time when the truth would come out. She had hoped it would be on her terms. Sherlock crossed the room to her, resting both hands on her waist.
"Arthur isn't adopted. Is he? He's yours. Ours."
"How?"
"I noticed, when we were." He paused. "Intimate."
"Oh?"
"You have a silver line on your abdomen. A stretch mark. It wasn't there before."
"I'm sorry. I."
"Its ok." Sherlock held her. "Its ok, you did what you had to. To keep us safe. You did what you had to." He felt her mould to him as she relaxed. "I'm right. Aren't I?"
"Yes." Joan pulled back. "Yes, you are. He's ours. Where do we go from here?"
"Bed." Sherlock stated decisively. "We go to bed."
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