CHAPTER 69. Uncle

Mycroft sighed hanging up the phone, his agents had let him know that they'd lost his brother once again. He wasn't happy or surprised after the results of this last mission Mycroft tried texting his brother's burn phone once more expecting no reply. He sank down in his black leather throne like chair and massaged his temples.

A soft knock interrupted his irritation and then a young voice "Uncle Myc?"

Mycroft straightened in his chair "Come in Hamish." He couldn't help but smile when the boy entered. Mycroft hadn't been prepared for the role of Uncle and it surprised him how much he enjoyed having a nephew.

~0~

Mycroft had ended another call with his little brother, ever the petulant one. The younger Holmes was in Hong Kong tracking a lead, already the determined young man had brought in several drug lords and sex traffickers. It wasn't the end there was always more, and Sherlock was searching for Moran. Once he reached the top of the web he could return home. When he'd taken on the task had no idea the extent of Moriarty's reach. Sherlock hadn't said as much but Mycroft sensed his little brother's distress and frustration over the matter. What looked like a few months was going to be the better part of a year maybe even more.

Anthea interrupted his dark musings as she burst through his office doors. "Sir, Mary Watson has gone into labor. I have a car picking up the doctor from the conference but it will be an hour before he gets here."

Mycroft was on his feet, "Have-"

"Yes sir, I've had a specialist as well as a NICU team ready for any possible outcome."

"Very good." Mycroft grabbed his umbrella and headed to the hospital to meet John. The Doctor's were busy trying to stop Mary's contractions, for all the money and specialist Mycroft had, baby Hamish wouldn't be stalled.

John arrived just as Hamish was being brought into the world, a nurse had wrapped him in a blue blanket and the medical team moved him immediately into an incubator. The child was having trouble breathing and they would have the tiny form incubated.

Mycroft stood when the Doctor came to speak to a pacing John, being a master at observation and deduction Mycroft already knew what the Doctor was about to say.

The British Government wasn't a man of comforting words, or offering a shoulder to cry on. He did however reach out a hand to steady the young man's trembling shoulders. The Doctor explained the complications that led to Mary's death and the high probability that the infant wouldn't make it through the night.

Mycroft briefly wondered where Harriette was during this turbulent time, he received an answer two hours later. Anthea had thankfully intercepted the intoxicated blond before she reached the room that held the tiny infant and his distraught father.

The older Holmes entered the small ward, a nurse smiled at him politely she finished checking Baby Watson's chart. He neared the chair John had taken up residence in, his eyes unblinkingly focused on the tiny form, the baby's chest would rise and fall to the rhythm of the respirator.

"His lungs aren't formed just yet." John's voice was gravelly and dry.

"John you need rest."

"I cant leave him. I left Mary to go to work this morning and now she's gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I never get to say goodbye." John murmured tiredly rubbing his red rimmed eyes. Mycroft wondered if the young man was referring to John's drunkard father, or to Sherlock with that last comment.

The British Government frowned watching the small figure with a blue cap pulled over his small bald head.

"He's a boy." John gestured, "Mary wanted to name him Hamish." The Doctor wiped at his eyes and sniffed.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do Mycroft. I can't do this on my own. I don't even know how to be husband let alone a father. I had the worst example-" The younger man's voice broke.

"Rather you had the best example of what not to be John. " Mycroft kept his eyes on the sleeping child, he made a decision then. "We are not our father's John. And you were a good husband to Mary. She was happy enough. I was a bit taken back by the fact the two of you-well lets say normally it's the wedding then the baby." John nodded smiling sadly.

"Hamish wasn't planned. Believe me it was a bit of a surprise that Mary was pregnant we'd only known each other a few months."

"Regardless, here he is. And from experience a Watson has a way of surprising you." John kept his eyes on his son.

"Hamish Sigerson Watson." John luckily didn't notice the stiffening of Mycroft's shoulders and sudden in take of air hearing his brother's alias. "It's what Sherlock used to call himself. Sigerson Holmes the Ghost of the seven seas." Mycroft nodded stiffly taking his leave.

"If you or Hamish are in need of anything, anything at all please don't hesitate."

"Thank you Mycroft."

And Mycroft took the opportunity have a private room for John and the baby set aside, this child would have any care needed to insure quality of life and longevity.

A night turned into days into weeks and the two were released after a month. John hadn't protested when Mycroft told the doctor he closed the practice and had another Doctor take over the handling of Dr. Watson's patients.

It was a few months later that Mycroft arrived in front of John and Mary's home. Harriette had called him, Mycroft only assumed she took his number from John's mobile. The struggling alcoholic was working as a relator she'd discussed with John the practicalities of selling his home. The exhausted Doctor wasn't comfortable there and wished for something closer to London as well as his practice.

She called Mycroft out of concern for her brother, he was looking worn down and she worried that the stress of moving would push him over the edge. Mycroft had to agree with her on the young doctor's emotional state. So he showed up at the home that was once Mary's and Johns. Harriette welcomed him in, Mycroft could see she was sober he deduced she'd managed a three week stint without drinking this time.

"John! You have a visitor." She called into the living room. Young Hamish was asleep in another room and the ex soldier had been nodding off in a comfortable old chair. Mycroft took in his friend's appearance. John had lost weight and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Mycroft?" John stood up to greet the taller man.

"John."

"Excuse the mess we are in the middle of packing-"

"Yes. I can see that." Mycroft nodded glancing at the half packed clutter of boxes.

"Is everything alright?" John eyed the older Holmes, "Something-"

"This is just a visit John. I haven't heard from you or Hamish."

"He's sleeping just down the hall. He's fine." John sat back down gesturing for Mycroft to sit. The older man remained standing.

"John, why don't you and Hamish get in the car. I've taken the liberty of having my driver bring around a car seat for the infant if you already don't have one."

"Mycroft? I cant leave right now. I-"

"John Sylvie is making your favorite tonight. Chicken Risotto and Royce has readied the guest room to accommodate you and your son."

"But I-"

"Don't worry about it John, we'll take care of it. What matters now is that you get some rest. Besides it would do the house staff some good having people actually occupy some of the rooms of the house."

Mycroft could see the ex soldier was weary and didn't have the strength to fight.

Mycroft smiled thinly ignoring the feeling of déjà vu, when Harry shut the door behind him.

Being an uncle came easily, after Mrs. Hudson convinced John to move back to 221B, Mycroft found himself visiting at least twice a week. He of course used the excuse to check in on Hamish and to ensure the new nurse that made home visits was doing her job.

Hamish was a good child, he hardly fussed always genuinely happy to see Mycroft. "I don't understand it either Mycroft, he fusses when Harry tries to pick him up but he seems to be comfortable with you."

"Well the boy has good judgment." Mycroft lifted the chubby toddler easily onto his lap, the child clapped and gurgled in response. Mycroft tried to remember his own brother at this stage all mess of curls and pudgy awkward movements. Sherlock had only ever wished to be left alone with his puzzles and toys but Hamish, Hamish loved to be held or to sit in his uncles lap. The boy had John's eyes and Mary's slightly wavy blond hair.

The boy would tug on Mycroft's expensive silk tie or drool on the British Government's cufflink's.

Mycroft knew he was lost, he could not tell the boy no. The busy government official found he rather enjoyed the outings the two would embark on once Hamish was at an age where he was more verbal and self sufficient.

There was a change in the British Government, he was still as hard and cool as ever when it came to political dealings. However if one looked around his office there were small changes to the decor, a color book and crayons would be found on the antique table. There were a few family like photographs of a boy smiling in various stages of life. John had gifted Mycroft with a silver framed photograph that someone had taken of the older Holmes holding a tiny Hamish. Then it seemed Anthea had managed to smuggle another silver framed photograph of a young boy that had fallen asleep wearing a party hat after a very exciting first birthday. The boy had of course decided to nap while sitting on his uncle's lap. Mycroft's face wasn't shown in the photograph but it was hand resting on the boy's back.

~0~

"Have you had lunch Uncle?" Hamish's bright blue eyes glanced over his uncle with a very Dr. Watson like expression.

"Not yet. I was planning to have a certain young pirate join me for tea."

Hamish smiled hoping down from his uncle's lap. "So you should wash up and let Sylvie know we are ready for lunch. Please have Amelia change your plasters. Doctor's orders were to keep those scrapes clean and you my young pirate have been very busy out in the garden."

The boy frowned glancing down at his clothes, "oops." He tried to wipe the grass stains from his knees. "It was the British navy again." The boy grimaced.

"It's alright nephew, however those plasters need to be kept clean." Mycroft ruffled the boy's blond hair. Mycroft had seen his nephew's accident in real time. The young boy had just learned to ride his bike and Lillith was to take him to the park where he could ride safetly under supervision.

The stupid woman was too busy flirting with Hamish's security detail to take notice that the boy hadnt fasten his helmet to his head, and then the child with a streak of independence decided to pedal off. Hamish lost his balance and fell onto the hard cement. Mycroft was up on his feet calling and heading out the door he had called Lilith and the driver was to take them to the A&E.

He'd had hired Troy as part as Hamish's security detail, one couldn't be too careful when it came to a child's safety. Especially the safety of Mycroft's only nephew.

The nanny Lilith had come highly recommended from the agency. However it seems the young woman was more interested in the men of the security detail than carrying for young Hamish. After Hamish's accident Mycroft had the four men left in charge of Hamish's security and the woman in his office that had hired the nanny all fired.

The fierce protectiveness that Mycroft felt towards Hamish was almost startling, but the British Government couldn't control the knee jerk reaction. The A&E staff had seen the small boy right away, Mycroft dismissed Lilith and had gone himself to the exam room.

Hamish as usual was unaffected, he allowed the doctor to look him over and a nurse cleaned up his scrapes. The head wound looked a lot more serious than it was. However Mycroft wasn't convinced until the doctor had a scan done.

Hamish had a few scrapes nothing serious. It was the excuse of "fell off my bike" and the bruising that brought back memories that Mycroft didn't like to recall. Those old feelings of helplessness, the way Mycroft had felt when Sherlock had begged him to fix John's situation and the older brother couldn't. Now Mycroft was in a position of power, and there was very little he couldnt fix with the sending of a text or a firm nod.

John had insisted these things happen and that it was a bit rash to fire Lilith but Mycroft decided he would personally find a suitable replacement.

Mrs. Hudson's sister was ill and the landlady was unable to watch Hamish for the four days that John would be attending a medical conference in Cardiff. So Mycroft happily accepted the responsibility of taking care of his nephew.

Besides Hamish loved to have the run of the place, he and Royce's grandson were often seen running across the lawn or digging up treasure in the garden. (Much to the gardener's displeasure).

"Oh, uncle there is a man here to see you." Hamish quickly remembered before he reached the door. "He says he's not a salesman but he's dressed like one."

Mycroft frowned looking from his nephew to the man standing in front of the closed doors of the study. How had he missed that?

"Uncle Myc." Sherlock unsteadily started forward. The room was spinning at this point, "It's been to long. Brother." He growled "Young Hamish here had so much to tell me."

"Sher-" Mycroft paled drastically looking from his surprised nephew to his brother. And then Sherlock collapsed onto the floor to Mycroft's horror.