Chapter 6
“Hamish and Martin Watson-Holmes?” The receptionist entered the room an hour or so after lunch had been served. Hamish was in the library section (still going by the name Martin) reading his Chemistry book. With Mortimer. He had discovered that the other boy was as intelligent as he was and after a small riddle competition they had settled down to some Chemistry. It seemed to be developing into some form of friendship-rivalry cross.
Martin was teaching Karina and Oliver to write while they were making a poster. The three of them had quickly became friends even though none of them were really similar. Martin was quiet, Karina surprisingly witty and Oliver just very easygoing and bubbly.
When their names were called out Martin stood. Obviously Papa had come to get them. He didn’t see why he couldn’t come collect them himself... Ah well. Hamish had trotted round the corner, book clutched against his chest. He moved over to Martin and put it in his bag before taking it from his twin. They both collected their coats. Martin wore Hamish’s and vice versa just to complete the image. Martin thought his twin looked funny with the green scarf and puffy grey jacket. He himself must look weird. A spitting image of Daddy.
With a wave and quiet goodbye to his new friends, Martin went with the receptionist and Hamish. They walked back to the entrance. There their Daddy was waiting, sitting on one of the seat with his hands clasped. He stood as they appeared, smiling softly at the two boys. Though it may have been a small smile it was one reserved for only his family. Without a word he ushered them out of the day care and towards where a taxi was waiting. Once they had got in he finally spoke.
“Why have you swapped jackets and scarves?” Hamish and Martin both burst out laughing, giggling for a good minute before Hamish replied.
“We pretended to be each other for the day!” He got, coughing slightly as their laughter finally subsided. Sherlock rolled his eyes with amusement, patting them each on the head.
“A fun day, then?”
“Yeh! I made a friend,” Hamish grinned, looking very please with himself. So he should be. Sherlock had expected the two of them to spend the majority of the day together. They weren’t exactly the most... normal four year olds.
“I made two,” Martin put in quietly, smiling. “But... there were these two boys at the beginning...” He trailed off, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure how to continue.
“They stole Martin’s sketchbook!” Hamish spoke for him. “They said that drawing was gay. How can drawing be gay?” The twins wore identical frowns. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, clenching a fist.
“It’s meant as an offense. To be gay is something bad; to be a wimp or the like. It is like being called a girl,” Sherlock shook his head with a snort. “Don’t pay any attention to them. They don’t know what they’re talking about.” He gently ruffled Martin’s hair, normally emotionless eyes looking almost concerned. The rest of the journey was silent, occasionally broken by Martin quietly humming a tune. Whatever came into his head. Sherlock was looking forward to when his son could also properly compose. Maybe they could write a piece together.
Sherlock got his sons out of the taxi and they headed inside. Sherlock forced them to walk up the stairs as quickly as possible, trying not to let his excitement show. He had a daughter! A new child! And his twin sons were just about to meet her. Why this made him so excited, he didn’t know. It was strange for him. To feel this way.
“Papa!” Hamish practically charged at John, hugging him before he could even get up from where he was sitting on the sofa.
“Hello, Hamish,” John chuckled, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “How was it?” Hamish glanced up at John with a grin.
“I made a friend! His name is Mortimer and he’s as smart as me,” he hopped around John, full of energy and only causing his Papa to laugh even more. Sherlock arched an eyebrow. Mortimer... That was too similar to... No it wouldn’t be. As smart as Hamish? That was strange.
Martin had already begun to edge away towards his room. He and Hamish shared the bedroom that had once been John’s because, obviously, John slept with Sherlock. Martin just wanted to play his violin. He had the unquenchable urge to play his violin. Hear the sweet sounds emerge from the strings as he drew the bow across them.
“How about you, Marti. How was your day?” Martin spun around to face his Papa, smiling slightly.
“Good,” he spoke quietly. “I made two friends... Karina and Oliver.”
“Normal people,” Hamish put in chirpily. He had climbed onto the sofa, swinging his legs slightly as they dangled. He was definitely was perky. A bit too cheery.
“Where’s Molly?” Sherlock had followed his sons into the room, planting a kiss on John’s lips as a greeting.
“Aunt Molly’s here?” Hamish’s deep blue eyes lit up. The twins absolutely adored Molly. They truly saw her as an aunt. More so than they did John’s own sister. Not that Harriet had ever visited.
“In the bedroom,” John supplied to Sherlock with a soft smile. The tall man instantly disappeared towards their room. John then turned to Hamish. “No, Aunt Molly isn’t here. She’s very busy at the moment.” Being pregnant. Two years ago Molly had met a man at the hospital, fallen in love and gotten married. Now she was with child. “Molly is your new sister.”
Hamish’s eyes widened. Martin watched silently, head tilted. New sister? What would she be like? He wondered if she was smart, like daddy, or musical. Or maybe brave, like Papa. Curiosity shot through his mind.
“Can we see her?” Hamish had hopped off the sofa, jumping up and down eagerly. “Please, please!”
“Okay,” John laughed, shaking his head. “But you have to be quiet, she’s sleeping.” Hamish nodded his head frantically, pulling his fingers across his lips as if to say they were zipped shut. John beckoned Martin over and led the two of them upstairs. Once they entered the room Sherlock stepped aside to allow the twins to gather round the cot.
She was so tiny. Her little chest rose and fell as she breathed and her hands were balled into tiny fists. She had a single strand of dark blonde hair on her head. Curly. She was so... vulnerable looking. And adorable. Both boys watched her, mouths ajar in awe. Then her eyes flickered open and she looked up at those staring at her in an almost curious manner. The colours in those eyes... it would be impossible to count them. They were like Sherlock’s eyes. Blue, green, brown, silver, just about every colour of the rainbow. Martin smiled, glancing at Hamish. They seemed to be sharing the same thoughts.
This was their little sister, Molly. And they were going to protect her.