Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.

Author's note: Please review! Thank you!

John woke up early in the morning and packed his and Sherlock's bags. He didn't wake Sherlock up because as soon as the case started he wouldn't sleep much. John put his and Sherlock's bag by the door and then fed Gladstone and took him out for a walk.

Once he got back he went to Hamish's room and quietly packed a bag for his son and once that was done he put it by the door.

Then he went downstairs and put the toast in the toaster and went back upstairs to wake Hamish.

"Hay, son, wakey, wakey!" John brushed his son's curly hair away from his forehead and Hamish started waking up. His eyes started flickering open and closed and he slowly stretched and moved around under the covers.

"Dad?" Hamish woke and yawned.

John gave him a small smile "Yeah. Hay, we're going to Scotland, alright?" John asked.

Hamish gave a small smile and another stretch.

"I packed your bag, you can pack any extra stuff you want and get dressed. But be quick, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." John said, ruffled Hamish's hair and left.

Then John went to his own room and smiled fondly at his husband, who lay on his stomach and had a peaceful look on his face.

John crawled onto the bed and lay his body on top of Sherlock's.

"Mmm." Sherlock made a sound.

John kissed his cheek gently and said "Morning, love."

"Mornin'… mm, this is nice." Sherlock mumbled.

John smiled and leant his head down and kissed Sherlock's lips.

Hamish was soon dressed and had packed an extra bag full of books and bits and bobs to do when in Scotland.

He went downstairs just as the toast popped up and shouted "Dad! Breakfast is ready!" when he couldn't see John in the living room or kitchen.

Half a minute later Hamish was tucking into toast and Sherlock and John came through. John was fully dressed while Sherlock was still in his pyjamas and was walking behind John, his hands placed on John's hips as he followed him round.

Sherlock let go in the end and sat down. John dished up their toast and they all tucked in.

"Have you booked a hotel, love?" Sherlock queried.

"Yes. We don't have much money at the moment to get a nice one. But we got a decent one. Family room with an en-suite bathroom." John explained.

"Well I won't be doing much sleeping. But it sounds decent." Sherlock said and then added "And what about the car?"

"Mycroft's sent us one, it's outside. Who's driving?" John asked.

"Can you? I think I'll have another look through the files." Sherlock said.

"Sure." John nodded. He didn't drive much, but he could.

The three put their bags in the car and got in. Hamish sat in the back while Sherlock sat in the passenger seat and John sat in the driver's. It was a decently sized car, comfortable for the long journey from London to Scotland.

About an hour into the journey Hamish was reading, as was Sherlock. Sherlock had his eyes tracing the words and pictures, consuming information others had got together for the case. Hamish was reading a book of fiction.

"Dad?" Hamish asked, a little shakily.

"Yes, Hay?" John asked, eyes fixed on the road.

"I feel sick." Hamish said quietly.

"Put the book away. Sometimes on long journeys it isn't a good idea to read." John advised.

Hamish put the book away and put his hand on his stomach.

After three minutes he said "I really don't feel well."

"We're on the motorway. It isn't safe to pull over. There's a service station in… ten minutes. Are you alright?" John asked.

Hamish nodded but tried to breathe evenly and carefully.

Once another five minutes was gone Hamish said "Dad! I think I'm going to be sick!" in alarm.

"I can't pull over. Deep breaths, Hay, deep breaths." John said.

"John, slow down and drive carefully." Sherlock said quickly then unbuckled his belt and climbed through the middle and into the back. He buckled himself into the middle seat and put a hand on Hamish's back.

"It's alright. John, put the air conditioning on." Sherlock said.

John made the car cooler and Sherlock tried to make Hamish feel better.

Finally they arrived at the service station and Hamish sat on a bench, feeling better once he wasn't in the moving vehicle and had fresh air.

The eleven year old detested feeling ill.

"Feeling better?" John asked.

"Lots." Hamish nodded, sighing in content that his stomach had relaxed.

"Right, well we'll do a toilet stop here. Do you want a drink and a snack?" John asked.

Hamish nodded. The three went to the loo, went to the shop and had a drink and some sweets.

Hamish felt much better and went back into the car a lot happier than when he came out.

On the last part of the journey the boredom set in for both Sherlock and Hamish and they moaned and complained for ages.

"You know what?" John said, exasperated "You, Sherlock, could just go to sleep for now or go to your mind palace. And you, Hamish, you used to sleep through these long journeys!"

"I'm bigger now! I don't sleep in the day at all, it makes me feel weird." Hamish explained.

"Okay, well that's fine." John said.

"I'm thinking of creating a mind-bedroom, papa!" Hamish suddenly proclaimed.

"Really?" Sherlock asked, pride and fondness in his voice "What for and why just a bedroom?"

"Well, I want to have a mind-bedroom because really important things I need to remember need somewhere safe to go. I remember a lot, but I want some organisation in my mind! It's a bit chaotic, and it's getting more so, papa! And a bedroom, well, I'm thinking to start off somewhere familiar! And if I need more room I can make a flat or a house!" Hamish smiled.

Sherlock smiled "You know, I was just a few years younger than you are now when I decided to make a mind-palace. It's tricky at first, but it gets easier, and look at me now!" he said.

"Yeah!" Hamish smiled.