One Month Later:
Andrew's POV
The air port was crowed with people running around, mostly on phones, mostly business men and women. There were also families with signs waiting near the doors, excited to see loved ones return home to them after long trips away. Pilots raced to flights with rolling bags trying to keep up behind them and flight attendants strutted the moving floors as any model would work the catwalk, perfectly balanced from experience on shifty planes. Children ran into gift shops grabbing candy and stuffed animals looking towards tired moms, pleading for their way, and crying when the puppy dog face fails. Travelers with large head phones wait in lines for sustenance after refusing to eat what the airline passes for food, cause really, what's up with that?
To Andrew the white and light blue walls were careless, unforgiving, and sterol, reminding him too much of the hospital he had been kept in after he had lost his parents. That and he could still smell the cleaning supplies in the air as the bathrooms were cleaned when least used in the middle of the night as weary travelers slept in chairs as they waited for 1 AM flights to who-knows-where.
He walked in the middle of Dad and Father, eyes fixed to the ground as they walked to get Dad checked in at the desk.
"Good Morning, sir." the Lady behind the desk was too cheery for this early on a Monday, "Visa, please." Her kind tone was making Andrew want to cry all over again, which was not cool for a 15 year old guy, "Thank you, Captain Watson, your plane boards Gate 87C in 4 hours. You can put your checked luggage with the men over to your left." Her eyes met his, "Thank you for your service."
Dad nodded, like he was suppose to, as he grabbed his army issue green and tan camouflage duffel bag off the speckled white linoleum floor with dirt forgotten by brooms in the cracks.
And they walked away to find the closest open cafe where they could wait until the last possible to say good-bye to a beloved Dad and Husband.
Even after a month of preparations Andrew couldn't believe that the month had passed, though he had felt the tension every day during the wait to now, this moment. When John Watson, the man he came to call Dad, would be leaving for Aphganistan. Very soon, no more days to put this off, Andrew was down to hours.
"Andrew?" Dad called softly, "Did you want anything to snack on while we wait?" Andrew had zoned out thinking about his Dad's departure that he hadn't noticed where they were ordering from the empty cafe they had found. Andrew shook his head unable to speak without crying and unable to eat without breaking down.
Father had moved to look at a stand of coffees, Andrew knew that he was taking it worse. Sometimes when they thought Andrew had gone to bed he would sneak down the stairs and watch them. In a totally non-creepy sorta way. It was just nice to see his new parents so happy, just like his original parents. Always smiling, even in private, and always real smiles because "the eyes crinkle at the outside edges and makes you squint, while fake smiles don't", as Father always reminded him.
"Sir, your tea is ready and would you like a pastry?" The barista behind the counter handed Dad a steaming cup of Earl Grey, Andrew knew this to be his favourite tea in any situation.
"Ah, thank you." John said taking the pale cream styrofoam cup with a bumpy cardboard sleeve, "No, thank you, I think we are good."
"It's on the house, sir, I insist." The barista gave a small smile. John smiled back and pointed to one of the honey drizzled croissants with chocolate on the inside, Andrew knew these were Father's favourite desserts that Dad only got on very special occasions. This made him look away as he once again had to fight the emotions wanting to break through his thin barrier of cool-calm-and-collected and a sobbing mess in his Dad's arms.
"Drew, come on, your Father found us a nice table by the window." From this "nice table by the window" the three of them had the perfect view of all the planes entering and exiting the docking areas, that is not what Andrew thought of as a wonderful table, "Sherlock, I got you something to eat." Father stared resolutely out the window by the nice table, "Look I hope you know you have not fooled me, I know you have not been eating."
Eating. Always a sensitive topic in the Watson-Holmes House Hold, Father didn't always enjoy eating, but Dad always made him choke something down, eventually. Andrew caught a quick glance of the face behind the black crazy curls, the eyes were ringed red and the cheeks were wet, Father had been crying this entire time and Andrew hadn't noticed.
Dad slipped his arm around Father's shoulders and kissed his neck, making Father flinch and cave in on himself. Dad kept his composure as he held Father close.
"Please, Sherlock, please eat this." Dad whispered softly in Father's ear, Andrew looked down at his frozen fingers clenched together in his lap, he felt as though he were intruding, "Thank you." Andrew looked up to see Father taking small bites of honey cover pastry filled with chocolate.
"So, Andrew, you have your football match this Friday. Your Father promised to send me footage of you starting off." Dad's face was so bright as he talked about a game he wasn't going to, but he made it sound as though he were only leaving for a few days, he couldn't tell if this made him feel better or worse about the situation they were in.
"Yeah," Andrew said playing along, he knew Father needed this as well, "I get to start forward this game after Richie messed up so badly last time." He gave a chuckle to go with it, though it sounded a little hallow, but Dad took it and ran.
"I remember that!" Chuckling louder, "So lost in the crowd of players that he shot it into your own goal!" Andrew joined him in laughter, because now it was funny, when he had his Dad with him to laugh at all the dumb plays that the pompous Richard Thalus had played thinking he was king of all.
"That child needs to just tell his parents he hates the game." A deep voice scoffed, Andrew stopped laughing to stare at his Father, it was the first time in several days he had talked, Dad was unfazed and kept chuckling, "Though even that mess could have been prevented by a three year old. If they had put you in your team would have won that game. Not only that, but if they had changed their tactic in the third quarter to be more offensive rather than defensive you would have gotten more goals, their goalie was terrible."
"You were at that game?" Andrew asked quietly, he had never seen his Father at any of his matches.
"Of course." Father said simply looking at him giving him a small smile. Dad had stopped laughing and looked at them both with a proud smile gracing his face.
"John!" A voice broke through their family moment, "John! I'm glad I caught you before you left."
The trio looked to see Detective Inspector Lestrade, or Uncle Lestrade the family friend.
"Greg, good of you to come. Your alone I figure?" Dad didn't lose any of his mirth.
"Actually no." Uncle Lestrade looked over his shoulder as Ms. Donovan walked to the table, "Anderson couldn't make it, he is actually writing reports," Father snorted, "to the best of my knowledge." Dad chuckled and Ms. Donovan kept her glare in check since Dad was leaving soon.
"Well, anyway, you are both just in time it seems that my plane is leaving soon," Dad said glancing at his watch, Andrew double checked his and is was time for Dad to leave.
"We'll wake with you to your gate," Uncle Lestrade offered as he picked up Dad's army regulated backpack, Dad smiled in thanks as he grabbed Father's hand, then reaching over for Andrew's.
"Alright, you two, I feel as though I need to restate the rules of the flat while I am gone. 1) Do not stay up too late, I know you both think you are night owls, but you always regret it in the morning," Dad put his arm around Andrew's shoulders and Father's waist pulling them both closer, "2) No organs in the appliances, please, food is kept in there! 3) Sherlock, please do less running around, you have been wonderful with changing the past three years, but this is something else entirely," Dad rested his head on Father's shoulder, "and 4) No parties! Mrs. Hudson would have a fit!" Dad said this jokingly and it worked making the three of them laugh as Uncle Lestrade and Ms. Donovan followed behind.
They stopped outside the security check to Terminal C, suddenly it seemed very daunting.
They stared at it for a moment.
"Well," Dad said softly breaking the silence with a knife, "this is me."
He let both of them go so he could face them properly. He looked to Andrew first pulling him into a tight hug.
"I love you, Drew, and you are going to be fine and do wonderful things while I'm gone, okay?" Dad kissed the top of his head, then gazed down at his face for a moment before letting go.
Next he took Father into his arms. Hugging him so tight Andrew thought Father was going to break in half. When Dad finally removed his face from Father's neck they kissed softly on the lips. Now Andrew could see Father crying now.
"Sherlock, you are going to do a great job while I'm gone." Dad said pulling his face away, tears trailing down his face as well, "You are going to be a wonderful parent without me and when I come back we are going to be inseparable; you, me, and Andrew. Got that?" Father nodded. Dad pulled him close and whispered, "I love you, Sherlock, always remember that, okay." Father nodded dumbly again tears falling freely.
Dad stood on his tip-toes to kiss Father's forehead and moved to shake Ms. Donovan's hand, nodding to her, then moving to Uncle Lestrade.
"Lestrade, don't give Sherlock anything too dangerous, please, and look after them they can be a handful sometimes." Dad theatrically rolled his eyes earning a chuckle from Uncle Lestrade.
Dad nodded to them and taking his backpack from Uncle Lestrade, left to enter the Security Check Point.
The four of them stayed until Dad could no longer be seen, Father held me close the entire time.