Continents Away

Family

It had started to rain, a mere mist that worsened into buckets within minutes. Inside 221B, Sherlock opened his eyes as he slowly pulled away from John.  They looked into each other’s eyes. Carefully, Sherlock let go of John’s arms, afraid of being hit, and he stood up.  John sat up, rubbing his sore wrists, with an expression of pure confusion on his drunken face. 

            “What was that?” John asked, “I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

            “I will explain everything later, John.” Sherlock said, “Tomorrow.  But, we have to get you home, Hamish is worried about you.”

            He held out his hand, and John took it.  Sherlock pulled John off the floor. He wrapped his arm around John’s waist to steady him, for he was very drunk and practically tripping over his own feet.  He maneuvered John down the stairs and out the front door, where Sherlock hailed a cab, knowing John would not be able to walk the two short blocks to his house. 

            When they arrived at John’s house, Sherlock stumbled up the walkway with John, as they got soaked by the rain. Hamish was waiting for them by the door.  They helped John up the stairs to his room, Sherlock took off John’s wet clothes and dried him with a towel.  Meanwhile, John just stood there like a zombie. Sherlock wrapped John in a bathrobe, then they laid him on the bed and tucked him under the fluffy blanket.  John had pretty much passed out by the time his head hit the pillow.   He rolled over onto his side as his eyes closed and he sunk into unconsciousness.  Sherlock and Hamish left John’s bedroom, and walked downstairs where they sat on the sofa.   Sherlock explained everything to John’s son, including how he told John he still cares about him. 

            “Are we gonna be a family, Sherlock?” Hamish asked as he rested his little blonde head against the dark-haired man’s shoulder. 

            “I don’t know, Hamish.” Sherlock said truthfully, “It depends on what your father wants.”

            “I think we both already know what he wants.” Hamish grinned.

            “Me too.” Sherlock laughed, “Now, it is past your bedtime, isn’t it?”

            Sherlock looked at the clock. It read 12:00.  He cringed. Parenting tip #1 don’t let the kids stay up late.  Then, he hugged Hamish goodnight and put him to bed. 

            When Sherlock was sure Hamish was asleep, he walked down the hallway to John’s room. The drunken soldier lazily opened his eyes and the sliver of light from the cracked door split the darkness in his room.  Sherlock did not say a word as he crossed the room and stood next to John’s bed.  He slipped off his shoes and shrugged out of his long coat, which was still wet from the rain.  John raised his hand weakly, reaching for Sherlock, who took it and slid into the bed next to him.  There was a large gap between them in the bed.  The empty space was soon filled with John, who wiggled across the mattress to be closer to Sherlock.  The detective wrapped his arms around the inebriated soldier, pulling John against his body.  John rested his head against Sherlock’s chest.  In return, Sherlock twisted one of his long legs between John’s short ones.  Exhaustion finally caught up to Sherlock and his eyes fluttered shut.  The two men fell asleep that way, in each other’s arms, closer than they had been in years.