Sorry for the wait. Tough week, one where I have been talked over the top of and forced to seriously doubt my abilities in all areas. There will be a wait for the next chapter as well because I'm going away for a few days.

John was woken by Hamish tapping his shoulder. A lot of children like to jump on their parent's bed. Hamish liked to just tap his shoulder. Yes, John could admit he was an unusual child, he'd always thought Sherlock must have had a terrible childhood but perhaps some of it was biological.

"I'm getting up. Go .. watch T.V. or something." John groaned.

Hamish nodded.

John turned back around wondering how much longer he could get in bed before Hamish decided that he was actually going to jump on him. John spent a blissful few minutes hugging his pillow before remembering who was in front room and jumping up immediately almost getting tangled in the bed sheets as he did so. He ran quickly into the front room to see Sherlock just stirring with Hamish stood before him holding an apple.

"Apple." He said as Sherlock opened his eyes.

"I can tell you're raised by John. He has a habit of stating the obvious too."

"Hamish, come on, let's fix you breakfast."

Sherlock turned around as if to go back to sleep.

"Sherlock, breakfast?"

"Just Coffee."

"If you want it come to the table."

Sherlock turned around and stared at him.

"Routine is good for young children. You're upsetting him enough as it is."

Sherlock sighed dramatically as he stood up and John had the distinct feeling he was dealing with two children. But as the blanket fell from Sherlock's shoulders John noticed something he had missed the day before. There was a long thick scar down his side the skin puckered and red. It ran from just below his ribs on his left to just above his hip. John stared at it. He looked up at Sherlock just in time to see him look away in discomfort.

"Now we both have our war wounds." He said walking past into the kitchen.

John followed him as he stood by the kettle.

"Coffee?"

"Tea." John answered. "That's not from a knife." He stated still in shock to see the mark. It had obviously been painful and it brought the fact that whilst Sherlock had been away he had been fighting and in danger not just in some abstract place.

"Acid." Sherlock said curtly.

"It loos like it didn't heal properly." John said unconsciously reaching down to touch the abnormally warm and rough skin.

Sherlock flinched and moved away.

"There were no qualified doctors in the area, it got infected before I could get it seen to."

Sherlock continued making the hot drinks without meeting John's eyes. John took in a deep breath.

"I want to have a look at it later. There might be something that can be done to help the scaring."

Sherlock banged the tea spoon he was holding down n the worktop and stared ahead of him at the cupboard.

"Bit of a double standard isn't it? You not liking scars."

John sighed. He placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Sherlock. It's not like that. I just want it to get the medical treatment it needs."

Sherlock turned to look at him his eyes darted over his body quickly.

"Good wank was it? Did you think of anybody in particular?"

John sighed, Sherlock the master of deflection. He turned around to see Hamish sat at the table.

"Sherlock watch your language around Hamish."

"Why he doesn't know what it means?"

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"Forget it."

John put the three boxes of cereal and two fruit juices on the table with three plastic bowls and three plastic cups.

"What do you want Hamish?"

Hamish held up the apple he was still clutching so John took it off him to washed it and cut it up.

"You have to have more than that, have some cereal as well."

"Um.. that one." Hamish said pointing to the box of cheerio's. John nodded and set about pouring the cereal for both of them.

All three sat in silence in their seats. Hamish munched on his apple, John ate muesli and Sherlock drank black coffee. The lack of talking was almost uncomfortable and the three of them kept glancing at each other as if trying to work each other out and the constant rhythmic thud of Hamish kicking at the table leg made John feel slightly nervous.

Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Hamish."

The little boy glanced up. John looked back and forth between the two Holmes, they were each staring at each other with identical expressions of trying to figure each other out. John held his breath waiting to see if Sherlock would actually attempt to bond with his child. Because despite his mixed feelings that would be a good thing.. right?

"What are your plans for today?"

Hamish blinked a couple of times and then looked over at John like he usually did when he didn't know the answer to something.

"Um.. on Saturday mornings Hamish and I stay in our pyjamas till tea time, usually watching one of our favourite movies and then after lunch we go to the park."

Hamish nodded kicking his little feet out and smiling widely.

"I like the park." He said looking back down at his bowl of cereal. John noticed the trail of milk down his blue pyjama top.

"I'm sure you do but I was thinking maybe something else."

"Sherlock." John warned. " Routine."

"I was just going to suggest one of the museums. I mean, some of them offer things of interest for children, don't they? Make science fun."

"Oh.. well, that's a good idea." John said staring at Sherlock shocked that he would be aware that there were children's sections in museums.

"I know it is."

"Wait, you're meant to be in hiding."

"People are unobservant and they expect me to be dead. They won't see me because they don't expect to see me."

"What about if it were Molly or Lestrade?"

"Molly knows I'm alive and you know hat Lestrade spends his Saturdays visiting his brothers family in Ware."

"Wait, Molly knows you're alive."

"Yes, she helped me. We'll discuss it later, no point in getting all upset around young Hamish is there?" Sherlock grinned at him in a smug way that he did when he knew he'd got one up on somebody. John felt that strange feeling of annoyance mixed with irritation, attraction and a slight bit of admiration. He would have t get used to experience that feeling again.

"I'm guessing you want to go to the science museum?"

"It would be a god place to start teaching him how to observe the world don't you think?"

"He's a child. He observes and learns every minute of everyday Sherlock."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and crinkled slightly as he looked at the boy. He was chasing the last few hops around his bowl of milk his face twisted into a look of concentration.

"No."

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You are not experimenting on your son."

"I wasn't..."

"You were."

"Finished!" Hamish shouted interrupting the intense staring match John and Sherlock were having.

"Well done. Hamish.." John took a deep breath. Hamish could often be very set in his ways for a two year old. "Instead of going to the park today we're going to go the museum."

Hamish frowned.

"No park today?"

"No, we're not going to the park today but museums are fun." John said with false enthusiasm as Hamish's face fell. "They have.. spaceships and dinosaurs and lots of cool stuff.."

"Dinosaurs!" Hamish cried excitedly.

"That's the natural history museum John."

"We'll go to that one then. He likes dinosaurs and he'll still be learning."

Sherlock stared at him.

"Look, you can teach him some experiments later. You know, ones without acid and radioactive material."

"Where is my equipment?" Sherlock asked looking around.

"Mrs. Hudson has stored it. I was thinking, and this is just a suggestion, but to keep from upsetting Hamish too much perhaps we could fix up the downstairs apartment for a little while." John said, knowing that any time to bring it up would be a bad time so it was best to approach it as one does a plaster and pull it off without hesitation knowing it's going to sting.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he frowned at him.

"I mean, it would be easier for you to keep hidden there. We do have visitors occasionally."

Before Sherlock could answer there was a tense knock on the door. John glanced up at the clock; it was 8:30 am, so it could only be Mrs. Hudson. She tended to let herself in but perhaps she was being shyer because of Sherlock being there. Perhaps she didn't want to disturb them after so long apart. Either way John got up and padded on bare feet to through the front room and to the door.

"Hello Mrs... Mycroft!"

John was shocked to see the tall balding (and much fatter than when he had last seen him) older brother of Sherlock Holmes. He stood in his pinstriped suit dripping umbrella in his hand. John stood shocked as Mycroft strode past him.

"Where is he?" Mycroft seemed anxious as he banged open the bedroom door and looked around, it was the most out of shape John had ever seen him.

"Wait wait, you can't just come marching in here.."

"Where is my brother?"

John didn't try to hide his shock. The way he figured it was that anybody would be shocked if somebody turned up at their door demanding to see a dead man. Instead he used his surprise and panic as a mask in it's self.

"WHAT?"

"Lestrade called me; we spent all night going over that box of information, only one person could have put it together."

"Unkie?"

John turned around to see Hamish stood peering out from behind the kitchen door. John quickly glanced and saw that he could not make out the shape of Sherlock behind the misted glass. He'd probably hidden under the table but why he couldn't keep Hamish with him John didn't know.

Mycroft's eyes widened and he went pale.

"Oh god has he been doing cloning now?"

"No." John sighed already knowing that the game was up. "Hamish is his natural son."
Mycroft stared at John open mouthed, then at Hamish. John could have sworn he saw his eyes moisten slightly.

"Is he alive?" Mycroft's voice broke but he still did not take his eyes away Hamish.

"Yes." The double doors to the kitchen opened revealing Sherlock stood there looking rather magnificent with his chest bare and his chin high and his hair in mad uncombed curls.

"No thanks to you. I know we were never close but selling me to a psychopathic criminal? We'll that was a step to far DON'T You think."

Mycroft strode across the front room and hugged his brother tightly. Sherlock's expression did not falter and his muscles did not eve twitch as his brother rest his forehead on his shoulder.

Mycroft eventually took a step back and tugged down on his suit face was back to it's usual mask of indifference.

"Do you know what you've put mummy through?"

"Do you know what you've put mummy through? I had no other choice."

Mycroft glanced away in shame.

"I am sorry Sherlock, more sorry than you will ever realize, this last two years.."

"You've been mourning me have you? The irritating little brother who chooses to play at detecting rather than go into the family business of politics."

"Yes. "

"Tough. I want you to leave." Sherlock strode into the front room and dumped himself ungraciously into his arm chair.

"What?"

"Do you see that boy?" Sherlock said pointing to Hamish.

Hamish immediately hid behind John as he detected the tension in the air.

"That is my son and because of what you did he doesn't know who I am. See that." Sherlock pointed to John.

"That was the man I wanted to be with and now he hates me. "

Mycroft mouth opened and his eyes widened as he looked at John.

"That's not true. " John said shaking his head, he didn't hate Sherlock. He could never hate Sherlock, want to punch him? Yes. Want to tell him to shut the fuck up? Yes. Hate him? Never.

"He resents me for being away for so long and he thinks we may never get over it." Sherlock corrected banging his hands down on the arms of his chair staring intensely at Mycroft who just looked back in complete shock. John couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him, in the course of ten minutes he had found out his supposedly dead brother was alive, the he had a son and that he was involved in a gay relationship with his ex flatmate.

"Leave."

Mycroft turned to John.

"Call me."

"I will, when we're ready we will call you." John promised.

Mycroft turned to walk out the door eyes slightly wet and head hung down.