30 Years Can Go By (Sequel to 60 Ways-ParentLock-BBC Sherlock)

Chapter Eight

I've got plans for writing, and I'm sorry, so sorry, but you're going to hate me so much.

I'm planning on two or three more chapters. There's two chapters that I could combine to make one because neither are really long enough to be their own chapter.

And I'm sorry about the forward slashes for italics. It annoys me too, but I type on my phone and it's the best I can do.

So yeah. I hope you like the reference to 60 Ways and please vomment and fan an tell your friends and the weird half of your family (we all have them).

Love ya!

-BB

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Chapter 8

"John," I said, as I stared at the ceiling, lying down in bed.

"Yes, Sherlock?" John replied groggily.

"We're old."

"Yeah, I know," he yawned.

"But really, though. You're sixty-two and I'm fifty-seven. Don't you find it strange how twenty-one years can go by so quickly. I rarely find things baffling, but this..." I explained deeper.

"Sherlock, I think I know what this is about," John smirked over at me.

"Well, obviously," I huffed.

"You're just acting strange because Hamish and Arthur are getting married today," John teased.

"I act strange for many different reasons, but if anything, I'm acting...normally...about this."

"You and normal don't make a good pair," John chuckled. "We might as well get up now."

"Hamish is moving on to a different part of his life now. He really doesn't need us anymore," I said, still staring at the ceiling while John got changed.

"Sherlock, he's grown up. Kids do that. We did that to our parents. It's life," John reasoned.

I said nothing.

"Hamish will always be our son. He may not need us to look after him anymore, but we can still always be there for him," John continued.

"Of course...always."

I looked over at John, who stood in front of the mirror in red pants. He hadn't worn those in a long time.

"Is it Monday?" I joked.

He glanced back at me, smirking.

I decided that I ought to get up and get ready. It was a big day for Hamish and I didn't want to spoil it by being late.

I found my dress suit and dressed myself.

I waited in the living room for John.

He came out a few moments later wearing a white tuxedo.

"Remember this?" He smiled, holding out his arms.

"You wore that when we got married..." I recalled.

He nodded.

"That...was the best day of my life," I told him. I had never shared that before. I had hoped it was implied.

Apparently not.

"Really, Sherlock? Not the day you solved your first murder or the day we adopted Hamish, even?" He asked, and I realized that he was serious.

"Of course. As you know better than anyone, I'm not one to convey my emotions very often. But, John...you've made me so happy. Before I met you, I did dozens of drugs and I woke up on street corners and I was constantly borrowing money from Mycroft and I wanted to stop, but I couldn't-"