THis is a short chapter, but it might (or might not) reveal what will happen in upcoming chapter, or not (or maybe)

Two days later Hamish laid curled up in Sherlock's arms watching the lion king while sipping his hot chocolate. Not the chocolate made from a box, but real chocolate made by real indigences and whipped cream on top that always seemed to stick to the tip of his nose and give him him a white moustache on his top lip. He always closed his eyes when the hyenas attacked the lion cliff, the fire and wild animals always gave him chills and in earlier years even nightmares, sometimes they even skipped the end. But this day he kept one eye open as Scar tried to throw Simba off the cliff, it didn't bother him and he sipped his chocolate without a care in the world it seemed.

"Hello!?" John called as he entered the flat after a particular long day at the clinic, heavy grocery bags in each hand and red rimmed eyes of tiredness. But as always a big smile brightened his face as he came home. A good man, Sherlock always thought, never brought home the problems from his day but left them at work, but he was obliged to ask.

"How was your day?" he murmured while watching the lion roar in the heavy rain.

"Hellish." he answered and left the conversation there. He never talked about his work in front of Hamish if it had been hellish. "Have you eaten?"

"Just hot chocolate." Sherlock answered and wiped the spot of cream from Hamish's nose with his fingers and licked it clean. "Are you hungry, handsome?" He shook his head and yawned big and loudly before he returned to his chocolate. "I think we're fine over here."

"How you been today, Hamish?" John asked from the kitchen and put the heavy bags on the table before returning to the sitting room, clothes twisted and turned on his body like he'd dressed in a hurry.

"Better." Hamish croaked and sniffled. "Dad's better at taking care of me now." Sherlock smirked and kissed his still hot forehead and Hamish giggled happily and dug his hand into his curls. "Dad?"

"Yes, handsome." Sherlock answered and tucked his hair behind the ear, he really needed a haircut.

"May I wish something for my birthday?" he asked tiredly and Sherlock snickered.

"Of course so may." he said and placed his big hand upon his chest, rubbed it back and forth over the ribs that poked out of his skin. He's lost many pounds during these sick weeks. Hamish blinked and tore his gaze from the telly, watched his father with a warm gaze and smiled.

"A baby sister."

Sherlock choked by those words and found his mind blank for the first time in ages, he opened and closed his mouth several times to find the right words before he gave up and turned to the kitchen.

"John?" he called and thought about Hamish's wish. Another child? No. Why not? Crazy. Why was it crazy? He didn't know. "John?" His husband turned in the kitchen with his face split in the large yawn and Hamish laughed. "Hamish has a birthday wish." The doctor dragged himself across the floor and into the sitting room, eyes still half lidded and dark circles around his eyes, but he still smiled.

"Tell me." he begged and started to collect the dishes on the table in front of them.

"A baby sister." he croaked a second time and the plates rattled in John's hands as he heard those words.

"A what?" he exclaimed and felt his head go blank.

"A baby sister!" Hamish repeated, annoyed about his fathers unintelligence all of a sudden. "You know, a little pink human, just like us, just... a girl. There are enough boys inhabiting this flat already." John laughed and thought about what a second baby would do to this family. It would certainly not be a bad thing. It was just something he and Sherlock had never thought of. One child was the plan, no more than that.

"I don't know if we have room for another person in here." Sherlock said and furrowed his brow.

"I can share mine." Hamish said quickly and suddenly looked much more awake in his arms. "My room is big enough for two. I can have the left side, and she can have the right." The detective pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose as he thought hard about this.

Another child? Really? Could they? Should they? He turned to John who stared at him just as loving as when they first held Hamish. He was clearly thinking about it and Sherlock uttered a little laugh as they made a silent agreement with John just shrugging his shoulder.

"Why not." Sherlock smirked and his husband smiled from ear to ear by those words. "Let's look into it." The doctor lowered his head, felt his cheeks burn by blushing and a warm feeling started to grow in his stomach. Alright then. Another baby. The dishes fell back on the table as he hurried over to the couch to embrace the mad man who'd just promised their boy a sister. "Would you be terribly sad if it would be a brother?"

Hamish shook his head and giggled when he saw his parents hugging and kissing, it wasn't very often they did that in front of him and he heaved himself up to join them both.

"But it would be more fun with a sister." he said and John pressed his lips to his hot cheek and pulled him into the hug. "There are to many boys around here." Sherlock chuckled and kissed the top of his head.

"You're absolutely right." he smiled and moved him over to John's arms. "But, now it's daddy's turn to take care of you. I need to take a shower." And John gladly accepted the little boy into his embrace and hugged him hard.

"Oh, Hamish." he tutted when he felt how light he'd become. "You need to put on some weight soon or you'll disappear." The boy giggled and sipped the last of his chocolate. "Or maybe you'll start levitating and fly away from here if we aren't careful. You need to get some meat on those bones." he smiled and poked his slim limbs making him squirm and laugh.

"Stop it!" he shrieked and John took the empty cup out of his hand. "Dad! Help!"

"You're on your own now, handsome!" Sherlock called back and snuck around the corner into the kitchen.
"No!" the boy screamed in staged anguish as John kept poking and tickling him. "Don't leave me!"

"Come here, you tosser." John smiled and peppered his face with kisses. "No-one's gonna save you now."

Both him and Sherlock had grown into the roll as a playful father now. Before, when Hamish was quiet, none of them really knew how to play with him since he never did much more than smile or giggle when they joked. But now for the first time in his life he could scream in laughter and the games turner more and more playful for each time. John loved what their family had become and cherished every moment when Hamish spoke and laughed. Even if four month had passed since his first words, it was still new to them and some morning he could wake up believing he'd imagined it all. Every greeting in the morning proved him wrong though. The best moments of the day would always be hearing Hamish tip toeing down the stairs and sneak into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawn 'Good morning' to them both. John would always fear that Hamish some day would fall back into silence, even if the odds were small.

And now, if it came true, there might just be another little child tip toeing their flat. A small girl or boy to teach all the things they'd already taught Hamish. A small child to 'suffer' through their raising and lipstick marks on the cheeks after visiting granny. Oh how Mrs. Hudson would adore a granddaughter.

"So why do you want a sibling all of a sudden?" he asked little Hamish who snuggled closer to his chest, smelled his aftershave that he'd missed all day and shrugged.

"I guess I wouldn't be so alone if I had one." he said and started to nibble his nails. "Not that I feel alone, but a sister would be fun. Someone to play with and I think we could extend our family so I don't need to be the worlds only consulting detective in the future."

"Hey." John giggled and braided their hands together. "If we're getting another baby, she's becoming a doctor. I can't handle to many detectives in the house." A joke of course, but also a secret wish he had. It would be good to have a child that wanted to learn something from him and not just from the detective in the flat. Not that he didn't feel useful in his family's presence, just sometimes he wished that Hamish and Sherlock could put some interest in his work as they did in Sherlock's.

"Where would she come from?" Hamish asked suddenly and played with one of the buttons on John's shirt, brows knitted together as he pondered about this mystery.

"What do you mean?" John asked and stroke his hair. "D'you mean what country or..."

"No." Hamish interrupted. "I mean, where would she come from?" And suddenly the boy looked utterly confused as he pulled his gaze from the button and looked up on John. "In fact, where do I come from?"

So it was time for the ultimate question. John needed to give him the answers he and Sherlock had discussed many times and something they both had feared. But now, being trapped in the moment of truth, John felt surprisingly calm. He smiled and kept stroking his hair.

"Well." he began and took a deep breath. "Before you were born I had a sister. Her name was Harry, short for Harriet." The boy frowned, looked very confused as he tried to understand. "She'd not with us anymore though, she got sick. Very sick. So sick that no one could save her."
"Not even you?" Hamish asked and looked just as interested as when they read him nighttime stories.

"Not even me." John smiled. "But my sister was the best sister in the world, even your dad thinks she was the best woman who'd ever lived."

"Why?" Hamish couldn't imagine his dad adore a woman so much he thought she was the best who'd ever lived.
"Because she helped us getting you into the world." John answered. They'd decided not to lie, truth must be told and Hamish would understand, he was a clever little boy. But they would decorate the truth just a bit, even if the boy was clever he was still only four. "Before she died she wanted to do something for me, and since two boys can't make a baby with each other she wanted to be the one to help us. So your dad gave her a small bean to plant in her belly where it grew big and strong and then, eight months and two weeks later, that bean was fully grown and turned into you, you were ready to meet the world and us."

The boy tilted his head and leaned it against his chest, took a deep breath as he tried to process the information.
"But, you don't have a sister anymore..." he said and nibbled the inside of his cheek. "You have no one to plant the bean in this time." John smiled and saw the blue-green eyes fill up with doubt that his wishes to have a baby sister might never come true.

"Well, there are other ways to have a baby." he explained. "There are many babies in the word who doesn't have any parents at all and are just waiting for a daddy and dad to come and take care of them. To bring them home and raise them just like we've raised you." Hamish nodded but he didn't quite understand, John didn't blame him. The making of humanity would always be confusing to a young child.
"But, if there already is babies who wants to be taken care of, why don't we get one today?"

"Well." John chuckled. "This is where it gets tricky. So lets leave that for another day, okay?"

"Why?" Hamish whined, eager to hear the story. "And why are they alone, didn't their daddy or dad want them?" This was a hard nut. There were much Hamish didn't understand about relationships. In his mind the only couples he'd seen was he and Sherlock. It wasn't surprising he didn't understand the other ways of love.

"It's more likely their mother couldn't take care of them." he finally answered. "You see, you always need a woman to make a baby, but all children doesn't have a mommy. Like you, you have two daddies. But some children have a mommy and daddy, and some have a mom and mommy."

Hamish started to get it and his eyes cleared.

"So, your sister was my mommy at first?" he asked and John pondered how to put this neatly.

"Yes, but no. She was more like a.. help-mommy." he said. "From the moment you were put in her belly, your dad became a dad, and I became a daddy. My sister was the help-mommy and when you were born, she became your aunt."
"Oh." Hamish smiled. "So I have two daddies, two aunts, Clara and Molly, two uncles, Mycroft and Greg, and once I had a help-mommy who was an aunt, Harry."

"Precisely." John chuckled and kissed his nose. "You got it now."

"And if I get a baby sister, you'll be her daddies and the other will be the same her as they are to me?" John pondered that for a moment before he nodded.

"Yes." he said and laughed again. "Yes, two aunts, two uncles, and don't forget granny."

"Will she have a help-mommy."

"Yes." John answered and couldn't finally breath out as they both had come to a simple understanding. "Now you got it." And the boy seemed more than happy with the explanation. His short arms wound around John's neck and he pulled himself up to place a big kiss on his mouth.

"I'm glad you're my daddy." he said and John giggled and held him hard.

"And I'm glad you're my Hamish." he smiled and kissed him again.

"And I'm glad to be Sherlock!" Sherlock shouted from the kitchen and John bursted into laughter. That smug bastard.

So here we are... (or are we?) Sorry, I'll stop messing with you, I'm just a little excited about this whole thing (or am I?) OF COURSE I AM!

Sorry, just leave a review and next chapter will be up shortly.

(...or will it?)