"Daddy! Father!" John woke with a start at hearing his son scream for him from up stairs, Sherlock was already sat up and tightening his robe around his waist before het got up to attend to their boy. John caught up to him putting a hand on his shoulder to make him stop and turn and face him.

"You want me to handle this?" He asked knowing Sherlock wasn't the best at comforting.

"I can handle it. Don't doubt yourself, you've taught me well John Watson-Holmes." They shared a smile before turning back and heading upstairs to see what was the matter with their boy.

"I had a bad dream." The 4-year-old Hamish said as his dad took a seat at the foot of his bed while his father kneeled down next to him.

"What was the dream about Hamish?" Sherlock asked, obviously something horrible. Hamish's black curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was breathing heavily, pupils slightly dilated.

"It was that man. The one in the pictures Uncle Greg showed you yesterday."

"What is he talking about?" John's question was directed towards the detective.

"Father took me on my very first case!" Hamish answered for him, his eyes lighting up for a moment obviously still excited about the fact that his father thought he was old enough to go on cases now. John glared at his husband who only looked away, obviously hurt by John's disapproval. "But then Uncle Greg took out pictures of who Father thought was the murder, and well I dreamed that he came after me."

John gathered the boy's tiny hand in his own, Hamish looked up from where he was starring at his navy blue duvet to look at his dad. "No one is coming after you Hamish. Your father and I won't allow it."

"That's right." Sherlock told him, trying to redeem himself. "Now go back to sleep ."

They tucked Hamish back in, each placing a kiss on their boy's head before the made their way down the stairs into their room so they would be out of earshot.

"You took him on a case?" John exclaimed in his signature 'I can't believe a genius could do something so stupid' tone.

"Yes well you were in surgery and Greg needed me, Mrs. Hudson is out of town what was I supposed to do?"

John took a deep breath trying to stop himself screaming. "You know you've probably scared the poor boy for life? Mycroft is just down the street you could have had him babysit!"

Sherlock chuckled deeply at that. "And you think the case scared him?"

"I'm trying to be serious here Sherlock." He groaned.

"So am I, trust me. You didn't have to grow up with him." He stalked over to his chair picked up his violin and began to pluck the strings before he guided the bow over them. He played one of Hamish's favorites, just something he did when Hamish couldn't sleep, it would always put the boy right down.

"Sherlock just promise me that you'll talk to him tomorrow? Just make sure he's ok and tell him that no one is going to come after him." Sherlock turned around from where he was looking out the window into the darkness of 3am London to look at John. He dragged the bow over a long and sweet last note before placing his beloved violin on his chair before he answered his husband's request.

"Of course I will, and he'll be fine. You'll see."

"Now Hamish," Sherlock started. The boy sat across from him in John's usual armchair, elbows on knees head propped on his hands, listening intently to his father. "You do realize that Mr. Miller has been arrested and can't come after you, yes?" Hamish's face scrunched up.

"What's arrested mean?"

"It means he's been put away for a very long time because he did something bad."

"Like a time out? 'Cause daddy makes me sit in the corner when I'm bad."

"Well it's kind of like a time out only it can last for years." Hamish's eyes widened at the prospect of a time out that lasted beyond 20 minutes.

"So… he won't be able to get me ever?"

"No Hamish he will never be able to get you. No one will ever get you because your dad and I are here to protect you. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Now I have a question." Sherlock braced himself for a question about the case. Something that had to with murder or something gruesome that would also plague his son's nightmares. "Since I'm not scared of Mr. Miller anymore could I go on more cases with you and daddy?"

"You don't mind the blood?"

"Not at all! It was fascinating!" Sherlock let a small smile tug at one side of his mouth. Sherlock could see more and more of himself in Hamish everyday. With his curls nearing shoulder length, his bright blue eyes and his massive intellect for a boy of his age. He couldn't have asked for a better son.

"Tell you what," Sherlock paused getting up and grabbing the boy's hand dragging him into his and John's room where John sat on their bed reading his book. Sherlock picked up Hamish plopping him right next to John who dog-eared the page he was on before setting down his book. "Why don't you ask dad about this one."

After a long discussion of the dos and don'ts while at crime scenes, and many "yes I know"s and "but daaaaad"s John agreed that he could go on some of the more shall we say tame cases. Which he later explained to Sherlock meant no drugs, no mutilation, and absolutely nothing to do with heights.

"He's just like you ya know." John said later that night as they were just settling into bed. Sherlock gazed sleepily at him from where his head rested on his pillow.

"I know… it's terrifying." John laughed and Sherlock joined him after a second.

"Oh god Greg is going to kill you." John said after he regained him composure."

"Kill me? You said yes to it, it's part of your problem too." John frowned, Greg was definitely going to kill them.