Thank you for all the reviews :) Here's a quick meeting with uncle Mycroft. Pretty short, but he will show up more later on.

It was the third time that night the crying woke them both and Sherlock squirmed in bed, trying to get up before John had a chance, he needed the sleep more than him

"I'm coming, I'm coming." he whispered and forced himself out of bed to drag himself across the room the get to the cot. The small child flailed his arms, face red in anger. "Hamish?" He picked him up and held him tight to his naked chest. "What's wrong?" While patting his back he walked around in the room and hushed him carefully, a loud groan was heard from the bed and John hid his head under the pillow. Hamish didn't calm down so Sherlock decided to walk out to the kitchen to make him a bottle, but first he dressed himself in the silky bathrobe. The trip out to the sitting room seemed to be taking forever so late in the middle of the night, but he could walk it without opening his eyes. "It's okay, Hamish." he continued and rocked him gently as he reached the kitchen. "I really hope you're hungry, 'cause if it's something else you're mad about I don't know what to do." He warmed up the bottle in the water-filled pot while trying to wake himself up, blinking hard and yawning. Once the formula was warm enough he dried it on the kitchen towel and walked out to the sitting room. He turned to his armchair and fell down in a tired pile of limbs. Luckily, it was hunger that had made the boy so mad, he latched on to the bottle and Sherlock leaned back in the chair. The cold leather made him shiver and his half-naked upper body started to get goosebumps. He quickly wrapped them in the blanket and turned his gaze to Hamish again. His blue eyes was locked at him, observing his father and Sherlock tilted his head.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked him and felt the little hand wound around his finger. "I would really like to know what's going on in your little head." He sat quietly with him until the bottle was finished and then he placed him on his chest close to his neck. He wrapped them both in the blanked and sank further down in the armchair until he was comfortable enough to sleep. Just a nap, he told himself, just until Hamish was sleeping deep enough.

John awoke several hours later, knowing without looking that he was alone in the room. It was dark still, the streetlights glowing outside the window with a cloudy dark blue sky above them. Today, five days had passed since his sisters passing. Today he had been a father for five days. He wondered which of those events would determine his spirit this day. No, he was going to be positive from now on, he ordered himself and used all his powers to untie the painful knot in his abdomen that had been there for days, or at lest loosen it. Before slipping his feet into the slippers on the floor he took a couple of deep breaths and did what his psychologist had told him. Breath in the happiness, breath out the sorrow, he could feel his head empty itself of bad thoughts as he did that. The thing was though, that he'd done this every morning this week, and sooner or later the sorrow would always find his way back to his head and heart just as easy as Mycroft could locate him anywhere. There were moments he wanted to kick himself, especially when he saw Sherlock's face. That face he made when he was worried for him, god he hated to see his beautiful features become distorted like that. So, today he would make an extra big effort to be happy, he was going to make a big breakfast, hold little Hamish extra tight, kiss and hug Sherlock until lips and arms was hurting and today, not a single tear would fall down his cheeks. That was what his sister would tell him to do.

"That's and order." he whispered to himself and threw away the cover to get up. He slipped his feet into the slippers, tossed the bathrobe around him and left the room. And, in the sitting room was a sight that made him sure that he would make it through this day without any problem, but it made him brake one of the promises. Tears started to fall and he couldn't understand himself how he had been able to be so sad lately. In the armchair was Sherlock, wrapped in the blanket, sleeping deeply with little Hamish on his chest. Their son, just as gone as his dad had his fingers in his mouth and snored lightly. The beauty of this was powerful enough to smother all the sadness and pains in his body and he felt his legs tremble. This was his family.

He wiped his tears quickly and hurried to the desk to find up the camera. This was going on the fridge. The camera clicked and he realised he'd forgotten the flash. It exploded into a bright light and John held his breath, hoping he didn't ruin the moment. But none of them moved in the chair, Sherlock was still asleep, mouth hanging open and hands steady placed on the child's back. John turned of the flash and snapped another picture before placing it on the table to take a closer look at his son who'd starting making small noises. Two second later, those clear blue eyes were locked on him.

"Hi." he whispered and stroke his cheek with his finger. "Good morning. Have you and dad slept here long?" The boy blinked and sucked violently at his fingers again. "I'll make us some breakfast. Take care of dad meanwhile."

The smell of scones woke him up and he opened his eyes, daylight was upon them and he realized that he had been asleep way to long in his armchair. Something heavy was lying on his chest and he looked down to see little Hamish, sleeping as usual and sucking away on his fingers.

"Good morning handsome." he groaned and kissed his head, taking a deep breath of his smell. "What's daddy doing? Is he making me breakfast?" Then he realised. Scones? That was all he needed to know that John was in a better mood and he smiled happily. Finally, his husband was coming back, oh how he had missed this side of John. He sat up straight in the armchair and stretched his back that was sore from the awkward position he had been sleeping in. He tightened the blanked around them and sneaked into the kitchen where John just plucked the scones out of the oven. "Good morning handsome." he said a second time and the doctor turned with a smile that Sherlock hadn't seen since... he won that pare of shoes on eBay, not the best example but that was in fact the last time his lips had been carrying that smile. Usually, Sherlock was given that exact same smile when he'd done something romantic, like bought him flowers, or sat through a whole movie with him. God, had he missed that smile.

"Good morning." John replied and and tossed the oven mitt on the counter to embrace them. "Look at you two. All swept in and newly awake." He pulled Sherlock into a deep kiss and pushed the curls out of his eyes, this was the most romantic kiss they'd ever had, so real and so happy. When John backed up, Sherlock was left with a blissful smile and it didn't take long before he pulled his husband in for for a second, just to feel the happiness in their love again. "Did you sleep well in the armchair?" Sherlock groaned and shrugged, his back might just kill him during the day, but who the hell cared now that John was back to normal?

"I've slept better." he chuckled between kisses. "I see you've been up early. Look at that, scones and tea? What have I done to be spoiled like this?" Then John remembered the bread and turned quickly to break it to pieces in the kitchen towel before the steam of it covered the windows.

"I think you know." he said and pulled out a tray from under the counter. "I'm sorry for these last couple of days. I've been such a mess and..." He didn't have time to finish his sentence before he felt Sherlock's gracious hand on his shoulder and he turned around to see the forgiveness written all over him. There were not many times in John's life that he'd seen Sherlock so kind.

"Don't." he said simply and pressed soft lips to his forehead. "I might not understand what you've been going through but..." He was out of words so he just shrugged. "Well... you know." This was their relationship in a nutshell, an ignorant detective and an emotional doctor. Their speeches of forgiveness were never protracted, but yet John found them to be very romantic.

"I love you." he sighed in relief and Sherlock smirked, ready to take back his famous level in smugness again now that his husband was back to normal.

"Love you too." he said and kissed him deeply. "Bring the breakfast to the t.v. I'm turning on the news!" He hurried out to the sitting room before John even had a chance to stop him, but the doctor wouldn't let him get away so easily.

"Remember! You promised me, no news for two weeks! And don't shout, you'll scare Hamish!" He had taken that promise a week ago, just a couple of days before Hamish was born, and he never intended to keep it. John had said it was for his own good, he didn't want him running off because of some faulty report in the middle of Hamish most important days. They needed these two weeks to get close to him.

The detective groaned, but low enough so John wouldn't hear him, and in secret he turned on the morning news, hoping his husband wouldn't mind.

"Earl grey or uncle August?"

"Uncle August! Two sugars and a splash of milk, please!" The news came on and Sherlock was already eager to look for something interesting amongst the reports, when the tray rattled. John carried it to the table and little Hamish woke up by the many sounds. "Hello." Sherlock chirped and saw how he took a good look around, always interested in what was going on, observing.

"I made him a bottle." John reached out the warm formula and circled his fingers around it.

"Lovely. I think he's about to get hungry." Of course he was, Hamish latched on like he didn't know anything else and sucked eagerly. "Good boy." he murmured with a calm smile and John switched channel on the telly. An old episode of family Addams was on and Sherlock sighed. "I was watching the new!"

"I know.." John sighed teasingly and fell to the side, close to his husband and giggled when he could hear him mutter. "And don't shout."

"I'm not."

"You're about to."

As the tray got emptier and bellies warmer by the tea a sort of drowsiness came over them like a wave, making them both of them sink further down in the couch until feet were on he table and blankets were upon them. "You've really been in the mood for cuddling lately." John sighed into Sherlock's hair as he was holding him tightly to his chest.

"Is that a problem?" the detective asked with a yawn that made John chuckle.

"Absolutely not." he whispered and kissed the top of his head, played with the dark curls and finally started to let go of the sorrow for real. He was going to be happy from now on and now he felt ready to get social again. After all, they had many friends who needed to see little Hamish and Hamish needed to get to know the people who was going to be in his life.

"Have you told your brother yet?"

Sherlock groaned in annoyance but John wasn't going to let him shut out Mycroft from his position as an uncle. "Call him today, ask him to come over."

"But he knows..." Sherlock whined like a child, referring to the fact that Mycroft knew everything.

"Of course he does, but he needs to see him in person."

The detective moaned irritably and realised that he would never get away from this.

"Fine, I'll call him." he said while rolling his eyes.

"Today?"

"Yes..." he groaned and slammed his head against the wall behind him.

"Now?"

Sherlock uttered an angry shout and stomped his feet on the floor, making John giggle as he hushed him. "You're being more of a child than Hamish right now." The detective gave him a murderous stare and bit his lips so he wouldn't snap at him. "Call him, now."

"Oh there's really no need." The voice came out of nowhere and the couple turned to the door where Holmes, the older had appeared, dressed nicely enough to receive the queen and fingering on his black umbrella with a wooden handle. Holmes, the younger let out another loud groan and rolled his eyes.

"And look who it is!" he sighed and Mycroft uttered a little smirk as he stepped over the floor.
"I was planning to come by sooner but due to the circumstances I thought I should wait." Yes, of course Mycroft knew about John's exhaustion and sorrow. The sad fact was that they had postponed any kind of visitors until John had the energy be social again, he'd been a little retracted these last couple of days and it was completely understandable to anyone. "But I decided today would be a good day?"

"Why?" Sherlock asked and heard how Hamish cooed on his chest. The umbrella swayed back and forth in Mycroft's hand and then pointed it to the tray.
"Scones." he said simply. Even if the couple knew that he was referring to that John was back in mood and had made breakfast because he was happy, Sherlock didn't miss this opportunity.

"Look at that." he grinned teasingly. "Mycroft can smell bakery all the way from the palace." The doctor closed his eyes hard and fought the giggling in his chest. His husband, the teasing genius. But Mycroft was just as quick.

"You should speak. Two pounds, is it?"

"Yes, but I'm still technically underweight. How is the diet going?" The older brother pressed his lips together until they became white and took a deep breath though his sharp nose, not planning to answer that question. John decided to leave them to it and flew up from the couch.

"Tea?" he asked Mycroft while passing by and the the older Holmes pulled out the chair from the desk to take a seat. The detective sighed loudly and gazed down on little Hamish who curiously looked around in his arms.

"So." his brother started and spun his umbrella on the carpet. "How's life, little brother." Stupid question, Sherlock thought, and gave his brother a look that said 'Seriously?', Like Mycroft didn't know already. "You seem happier than ever."

"He is!" John shouted from the kitchen and the brother chuckled when he saw the detectives eyes darken. "Sugar?"

"No thank you." Mycroft answered without taking his eyes of his baby brother. "How's fatherhood then?" His voice was loud enough for them both to hear, but he was mainly asking his brother who was cuddling with the small boy.

The moment that Mycroft had walked into the apartment, the childhood anger that had lived inside of him started to find its way out in his body again, all the way out to his fingertips. Usually, he wanted to bully his brother until he decided to leave, and that had been the plan today as well. When Mycroft had sat down in front of him, there were so many things he wanted to remark, but a second later, the detective laid his eyes upon his son and... didn't feel the need to even care about his brother presence. His brother wasn't as important, his brother was boring, old news, like a solved crime.

"Sherlock is doing great." John answered for his husband and placed the cup and saucer in Mycroft's hands. "Scones?" He shook his head and John fell down on the couch again.

"So, it suits you then?" Mycroft asked and blew on his tea, tapping his foot on the floor.

"Oh don't be silly." Sherlock chuckled cockily without taking his eyes of Hamish. "I'm the best father anyone could have." The older brother crocked his head and watched his brother under thick eyelashes, like he didn't believed what he'd just heard; the doctor pressed his lips together and gave the older Holmes a smile, he knew exactly what Mycroft was thinking.

"Yeah, you heard him right." he smirked and placed his arms around Sherlock who was shifting his eyes between the two men.

"What?" he asked and didn't understand their exchange of looks. "Did I say something wrong?" Sherlock was used to silence and weird looks when he'd said something inconvenient or mean.

"No." John said quickly and smiled from ear to ear as he looked at their little boy. "No, of course not."

"Most people are just... a little surprised that you handle your role as a father so incredibly well." Mycroft smiled and sipped his tea. The fuse was lit, any time now Sherlock would go off like a bomb of anger. Fingers cracked and his mouth thinned until his lips were so tight together that John doubted he would ever be able to part them again. He needed to stop the two brothers before world war of words broke out.

"So!" he said loudly and eyes big as saucers, afraid that Sherlock would interrupt him any time now. "Mycroft. You wanna hold your nephew?"

"Should we? Really?" Sherlock asked, nearly growled and eyes shooting hate at his brother. The doctor chuckled and lifted little Hamish from his husband's chest.

"Don't be silly, love."

Hamish looked a little different now, in just five days the wrinkles had left his skin and he was less pink, he didn't look quite as newborn anymore, his hair was thicker and fluffier and eyes had turned into a green-blue shade. He looked more like Sherlock for everyday. John carried the boy to his uncle who put away his cup before receiving him. The bundle landed in his slender hands and his blue eyes fell upon the little face.

Sherlock observed in silence, clenching his jaw, because even if he wanted to snatch his son out of his brothers arms, he kept himself calm. After all, Mycroft would be a very important part in Hamish's life, he couldn't let his own contempt for his brother keep uncle and nephew apart. And he saw everything, every change in his brother's eyes, face and body. Pupils dilated, cheeks flushing pink, biting his bottom lip, movement were less harsh... christ, Mycroft adored his little nephew already. Mycroft, the man who never let a person into his life except colleagues and clients had feelings for another human being? What was Hamish doing to the two Holmes- brothers, Sherlock questioned himself. How was it possible that a child, only five days old, had this effect on people? Just by observing, Sherlock could tell that Mycroft was worthy of being Hamish's uncle. Hope he was ready for babysitting in the future.

"He looks very much like you, brother." said Mycroft and pushed the blanket away from Hamish's face, his eyes glittering in happiness of having a little nephew. "Lucky he didn't get your hair."

"Oh do shut up." Sherlock groaned but still with a smile on his face. John stood on the middle of the carpet, stretching his back with arms over his head, he decided not to interfere in their little moment, so he scratched the back of his head and inform them that he needed a shower. With that, the brothers were alone in the room.

"It glads me to see that you've taken care of John in such a loving way." said Mycroft after hearing the door look behind the doctor. "It's a very... unusual sight." Sherlock swept himself in the blanket and got up to refill his cup with some more tea from the kitchen.

"You once said that caring isn't an advantage." he said passing by and disappeared around the corner. "But I have to disagree nowadays." He could hear his brother chuckle as he filled his cup, he knew that Mycroft thought he had gone weak and maybe he had, but why bother? He was feeling happier than ever. Then his brother said something he would never forget.

"I envy you, brother."

Sherlock turned to the doorway, not seeing the man but just staring into the room were he sat. A word that Mycroft never used before had come out of him.

"You envy me?" he asked and dropped two spoons of sugar into the drink before going back into the sitting room.

"It seems like your husband has made you more human than anyone dared to imagine." Holmes, the older said and seemed to be hypnotised by the little being in his arms. "And I always thought I would be the one having a son in these times. It glads me to see that I was wrong for once." Sherlock didn't like this subject, this conversation needed to change before his brother got carried away and started to become to emotional, so he just thanked him and thought of a new subject.

"Anything new? John wont let me watch the news for two weeks."

Except the small sounds coming from Hamish, the room had fallen into silence, Sherlock eyeing his brother when he started to realise there was something hidden. He crocked his head and entwined his hands under his chin. "Well.." Mycroft snorted and stood up, giving the child a last good look before returning him to his father.

"He's very handsome." he said and Sherlock mirrored his brother to take his son from him. "Even if he looks like you." The sound irony in his voice would have been clear for any other person, but it went past the intelligent detective.

"What do you mean?" he asked, voice nearly stuck in his throat as he tried not to snap at him in front of his son, but Mycroft gave him a teasing smirk.

"Always nice to see you brother." he said and swayed his umbrella as he moved towards the door. "A parcel should arrive for you before the weekend. Send my regards to Mrs Hudson." But Sherlock wasn't done with him.

"So there aren't any cases?" To his disappointment his brother started to whistle as he walked down a stairs and that was it, Mycroft had left the flat, leaving Sherlock unknowing of the outside world. He had never felt so trapped, but, he had a promise to keep. Nine more days, then he could update himself again. Hamish uttered a small whimper against his shoulder and he looked down to see him gazing around with blue-green eyes, like he was making sure that he was back in arms were he belonged. But even if this beautiful boy could make Sherlock take his mind of anything, it was impossible this time. Something was going on in the outside these walls and he needed to know what.

"He already left?" John was walking through the hallway, wrapped in his striped bathrobe and a towel around his shoulders, smiling like he thought that he'd just scared Mycroft away. "What did you do to him?" Sherlock shrugged and swallowed hard, John could see his adam's apple bobbing in his slim throat, something had upset him. "Or... what did he do to you?" Sherlock turned to him, giving him a sharp look and that was all John needed to understand what was going on. It felt bad to disappoint Sherlock, but he shook his head. "Please, whatever he said, I don't want you running off now." The detective bit his bottom lips and gave John those puppy eyes that would make John do anything he begged him, of course it worked this time as well. He sighed and reached out his arms to take Hamish from him, putting him close to his neck and gave his husband a weak smile.

"Just take a look around the internet. I'll let you work from home, but no running off." He clapped his hand together like an old lady and leaned in for a kiss, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Thank you!" he nearly shouted and tossed himself across the room to get to the computer.

Thank you for reading. Please leave a review and tell me what you think.