Only Yours

39

William's P.O.V

'I don't care what you want, William, there is no way I'm letting you out tonight.' My mouth falls open as Papa slams his hand on the table and grins.

'Are you fucking kidding me?'

'Language.' Dad says from the corner, his hands pressed under his chin. We both ignore him. 'IT'S A FRICKIN HALLOWEEN PARTY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN?' I shout, which I register won't help my case but I'm too angry to care.

'Will Holmes, I don't need to justify myself. I'm your father. Deal with what I tell you.'

'AHHHHH.' I collapse in a chair and glare at him. 'It's just a little get together! Ellen'll be there!'

Papa's face creases and he looks a little unsure. 'Oh. I didn't know that.'

Papa loves Ellen.

'She invited me! And nothing will happen! The kids are all Oxford and Cambridge students, for God's Sake!'

'That doesn't change a thing. Sherlock went to Oxford and he was addicted to heroin for most of his time there.'

'Ah, but I got the drugs from off campus.' Dad says.

'Please, Papa?' I widen my eyes and smile at him hopefully. For a moment it looks like he's falling for it, until Dad opens his eyes and glances at me.

'John, in case it will change your mind, he's combed his hair, put on his 'cool' clothes and put on enough deodorant and cologne to knock out a horse. He's obviously hoping to, ahem, get lucky with Ellen Freeman tonight.'

'Dad!' I scowl. He smirks and turns away from us.

'That's it. No. No way.' Papa gets up from the table and I whine, 'Why not?'

'I can't let my first son out knowing he might end up having sex!'

'Ellen wouldn't.' I frown. 'She's playing hard to get, I think. It's annoying.'

Dad smiles again. 'I thought you were gay, anyway.'

I glare at him. 'Obviously not.'

'Oh, he's Bi, Sherlock, like me.'

Dad and I both burst out laughing. 'You? Bi?' we say in unision.

Papa looks offended. 'I had a son with a woman.'

I put on my campest voice. 'Don't mean your bi, honey.'

Papa scrunches up his face. 'That's it. Will, I want you to text her and say you can't come. I have something much, much more fun for you to do tonight.'

And that is how I end up at a toddler's Halloween party.

Jacob is dressed as a bee, with little wings and a stripy yellow-black top with black trousers. He's looking awfully happy, running around with his little friends, while I sit at the side of the room and mope with a group of middle-aged woman around me.

'So, Jacob is your little brother?' One of them screams at me over the music. Married. Three children. Lactose Intolerant. Only child. Conservative. I nod. 'So, you're John's son?'

I hesitate before nodding. 'Yes.'

'You look a lot like Sherlock, don't you? Jacob's more of a mixture.'

I smile and look away, trying to end the conversation, but the woman perseveres. 'He has lighter hair.'

I look at Jacob, playing happily with a little girl.

Jacob, like the twins, is a sort of mixture of my father's, but in a different way. His curly hair is a lighter, rich brown and his eyes are just like Dad's and mine. He's about the same height I was at his age, but chunkier/muscular like Papa. His skin is a darker colour than all of ours, sort of a light olive shade like Harry's, Papa's sister.