John and Hamish are at John's apartment, in central London. Its quite a small, cramped place, but as he has only himself to worry about now, John has all the room he needs. Putting the last few bits in Hamish's backpack, John nervously waits for Sherlock to walk through the door. The very second he does, Hamish runs right at his feet, instantly recognising his Papa.

"Hey, little man!" Sherlock exclaimed, as he lifted his son to sit on his hip. "Did you have a fun day with daddy? Did you?"

Hamish nods, in Sherlock's arms, in agreement to his Papa's grinning question.

"Sorry I didn't drop him off this morning," Sherlock continues, turning to face John, as he gives his son a quick squeeze, before placing him back on the floor.

"haven't seen you on the news recently – have you not been working much?" John enquires, trying to make light chit-chat.

"Lestrade doesn't think I can handle a case right now," Sherlock admits, slightly embarrassed.

"well, that's wise," John agrees.

"what? No it's not," Sherlock protests, "I should be working."

"Come on, Sherlock," John insists – he isn't convinced. "it's me, remember?"

"Yeah but its not, is it?" Sherlock snaps. "You're not here anymore, John."

Hamish rolls his eyes a little, already getting his attitude from his Papa. He sighs and take himself off to his bedroom, as he knows he is only going to be told to do so anyway. But his parents are oblivious, too engrossed in their own situation.

"I don't want another argument, Sherlock," John interjects, making sure his opinion is heard before the conversation has even begun. "And especially not with Hamish around. It's best if you just leave."

"I'm not going anywhere until we sort this out," came Sherlock's assertive response.

"there's nothing to sort, Sherlock," John snapped back, refusing to let the conversation go any further than it needed to. "its over. That's it. End of discussion."

"There was no discussion – you just walked out on me, John," Sherlock pointed out, struggling to hide the hurt and anguish he continues to feel – and has done since the day John left him. "that's not something that you can give no explanation for and just expect me to move on like nothing's happened."

"but these things do just happen," John argued. "the two of us have just got to… live with it."

"its not just the two of us, though – we've got our son to think of."

John paused slightly, to reflect on this. He was well aware that little Hamish was caught up in the middle of everything. But Hamish was at the centre of John's decision. With Sherlock, its different; he could explain it all to him. He may not like it, but he would understand. But its not that simple with Hamish. Its just too much heartache for everyone. As John continually had to remind himself, this is the right thing to do.

"He's better off with you," John eventually mumbled, trying to convince not only Sherlock, but apparently himself too. "He always has been – weirdly, you bring out the best in each other"

"John, you cant just walk away," Sherlock protested. "you cant leave us like this!"

"Yes. I can."

"…don't you love me anymore?" Sherlock questioned, despite then instantly doubting that he'd receive the answer he so desired. "Don't you love Hamish?" He knew John wouldn't be able to deny the love for his son, if nothing else.

"you know I do," came the heartfelt response.

"then come home," Sherlock pleaded, lovingly. "we can talk it through properly, and what ever it is, I assure you, we can sort it out. I can help you, John; I want to help you."

"there's nothing to sort, Sherlock," John replied, growing tired of the same old argument. "why wont you just accept that?"

Of all people, the detective thought John knew that he could confide in Sherlock, at least.

"because I cant!" Sherlock shouts, snapping back. "I cant accept that my son will have to grow up in a broken home." Sherlock couldn't help but raise his voice, as his true feelings begin to get the better of him. "I cant accept that I was wrong about you and I." his voice was breaking a little, as he struggles to speak through his tears. "I cant accept that the man I love would leave me!" His eyes red and puffy, it was clear that he meant every word that came out of his mouth.

"I didn't leave you – I gave you up!" John blurted out, allowing Sherlock's deductions to be confirmed. There is more to all of this, after all. And the detective has a pretty good idea of what that is.

"…Daddy? …Papa?"

Hamish's head is just visible, as he peers around the wall, watching his parents. He doesn't like it when they shout; he doesn't like them upsetting each other. Sherlock quickly wipes the tears from his face, as his husband crouches down to Hamish's level. The detective looks on, whilst John attempts to ensure that their son is okay.

"Hamish," John smiles, addressing his son. "what are you doing there then, eh?"

"I heard you fighting," came Hamish's reply, in that quiet yet concerned voice only children can express.

"no. we weren't fighting," John reassured him, painting on that false smile once more, "were we Papa?"

"of course not," Sherlock agreed, joining John and shooting Hamish with a large, evidently fake grin.

"yes you were," Hamish pointed out, not falling for his parents' charade in anyway. "its all you ever do anymore"

"oh, sweetheart," John exclaimed, as he now begins to realise just how affected Hamish is by all this going on around him. He finds himself once again trying to reassure his son that everything's okay. "Listen to me," he continued, taking a hold of Hamish's shoulders, and lovingly looking into his big bright eyes, "your Papa and I love each other very much. And we love you too – both of us. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is ever going to change that, okay?"

"…okay," Hamish sheepishly replied, before hugging his Daddy.

"good boy," John smiles, hugging him back. "now, do you want to finish playing for a minute?" John continues, as he unhitches his son's arms from around his shoulders, "before Papa takes you home?" John notices that Hamish is still a little apprehensive and decides to comfort him one last time. "no more shouting, I promise."

John is sure to keep on his best 'Daddy' smile, as he ushers Hamish back to his room once more. Him and Sherlock are now acutely aware of their sons presence – the don't want to upset him anymore than they already have.

"That is exactly what I didn't want to happen," John calmly states, before turning away in shame.

This was partly because he is now aware of how much damage he has caused his son, despite his best efforts of trying to achieve the complete opposite. But partly because he remembers what he said before they were interrupted. And if he remembers, there's no doubt that Sherlock does too. And this is a conversation John definitely doesn't want to have; especially with Hamish still in earshot.

"what did you mean before?" Sherlock inquires, in a calm, yet concerned manner. He gets no immediate response from John, and therefore takes it upon himself to refresh John's memory. "you said you gave us up…"

"never mind, just forget I said anything," John sped through his words, itching for the subject to be changed. "Just take him home, Sherlock, please"

"are you coming back with us?" Sherlock asks

"you know I'm not," John replies, through his teeth. He is clearly beginning to get agitated, his anger rapidly increasing.

"then we're not going anywhere," Sherlock states, stubbornly.

"Sherlock!" John shouts, almost in tears, as his frustration boils to the surface.

But Sherlock doesn't respond to John's raised voice. Instead, he simply takes his phone out of his pocket, presses a few buttons and puts it to his ear.

"Lestrade. Come and collect the boy from John's place. His father and I need to talk."

Its about time. Comes the faint voice through the speaker. I'm on my way!

"The door's open; let yourself in."

Sherlock hangs up the phone. But still there is no response from his husband.

"Just talk to me, John," Sherlock tries to calm him down, and then hopefully get the truth out of him in return. "I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on!"

"you cant help me, Sherlock," John screeches, angry at the knowledge that what he's saying is true. "Even you cant solve every case!"

"why not?" asks Sherlock, confused, and now getting almost as angry as John, due to the simple nature of not knowing. He doesn't like not knowing. "what could possibly be so bad that your own husband cant help you?"

John turns away, ignoring him.

"Is this because of your illness?"

John looks at Sherlock, in shock. The room fell silent. The only sound was of their son laughing to himself in his room, a short distance away.

But the silence was all the confirmation Sherlock needed. He immediately felt his eyes well up, as he struggled to find the right words to say. Looking at John in front of him, all he wanted to do was grab him and never let go. Not for anything, nor for anyone.

It was the first time John had heard it out loud. And yet it still didn't feel real. No matter how hard he tried, living in denial wasn't making it go away.

Sherlock began to open his mouth, but John butted in first.

"I cant believe she told you," he scoffed, in disbelief. "I trusted her! I needed a friend and all she did was run and tell you the second my back was turned!"

"woah, John," Sherlock rushes towards him, putting his hand on John's shoulder, "no-one told me anything."

"oh, bollocks!" John shouted at his husband, not believing a word he says. He shakes Sherlock's hand off his shoulder. "You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's true, John," Sherlock calmly points out. "I can see it. Every time I see you, I… you look more and more broken. And its killing me that you wont let me fix you."

"I'm not something you can fix Sherlock!" he snaps. "I thought you couldn't deduce these days, anyway?" John points out, still defensive.

"Because of you!" Sherlock finally snaps. "Every time I try to distract myself, my stupid brain just takes me back to everything I've noticed about you lately." His voice calms down again, as his emotions take over. "Every ounce of struggle I see in you," he takes a hold of John's hands. "What more do I have to do to prove to you how much I care for you?"

But John simply sighs, and walks away, ashamed of himself for not letting his partner in.

"I wasn't sure I should say anything," Sherlock points out, "I wasn't sure if you knew yourself."

"so you were just going to let me get worse?!"

"no!" Sherlock insisted, "no, I just didn't want to… I don't know… I didn't want to hurt you."

"well, that I can understand," confesses John, reflecting on why he walked away in the first place.

"so what is it, John? Can it be fixed?" Sherlock inquired, tears already forming in his eyes, as he feared the answer.

"I don't know. I don't know, Sherlock!" he breaks down. He'd been so strong for so long, all the tears and emotions just came flooding out.

Sherlock didn't hesitate for a single second and hugged his husband tighter than he ever has.

The newly reformed couple are now back at home together, in Sherlock's flat. They are on the sofa, Sherlock with his arm around him, as John snuggles into his detective. Sherlock finds himself playing with the wedding ring, now back on John's hand.

"back where it belongs," he declares with a smile, before kissing his husband on the forehead. "You know, you had me worried, you idiot," he points out. "I thought you had a terminal illness or something, the way you were going on."

"I wish I did," John sighs.

"don't say that," the sadness returning in Sherlock's voice.

"sorry," John replies, as he taps Sherlock on the chest. "I just meant it would be simpler – no. It would just give me some more definitive answers, that's all."

"you know I will keep you and Hamish safe, don't you?" he reassures him.

"but that's just it," John points out. "I thought I put the two of you in danger being here."

"and now?"

"I know my safest place is by your side," John confirms. "I mean, your brother is the bloody government, for starters," he jokes.

Sherlock laughs a little, "absolutely!". He pulls John in a little bit tighter, as he runs his fingers through his hair, "ignore that nasty ex-army brain of yours; Hamish and I need you. We all need each other. I can only protect us as a family, if we are all together as a family."

Just at that moment, Lestrade strolls in, and Hamish bounds up onto the sofa. John sits himself up properly, with a big smile on his face, as his son nestles himself in between his parents. Hamish grabs one of each of their hands and pats them, as he places one on each of his own little legs. He then shoots a cheesy grin, from ear to ear, aiming it right at Lestrade.

"That's the sight we've all been waiting for," Lestrade declares, a huge grin of his own spreading across his face.