A/N – This story continues where Series 4 left off. I actually started this before any of the spoilers started to come through about Series 5, so I reckon I better just get a move on with it, as I don't want to be influenced by anything I might stumble across, "potential plot" wise.

Disclaimer – Doc Martin and its characters belong to Buffalo Pictures Ltd. I'm only playing with them for a short while.

Rating – T

Daddy's Boy

~x~

Martin watched as the ambulance disappeared out of view. He shook his head as if trying to make some sense of the events that had just unfolded over the past few hours. Regaining his composure, he hastily made his way back into the pub.

He looked around frantically for the landlord who had disappeared off to find some cleaning materials, to try and sort out the mess that had been left. Martin's eye fell now upon the sofa, which resembled the scene of some horrendous massacre.

As he felt the bile start to rise in his throat at the site of Louisa's blood, he looked away and then made his way over to the bar, where he started to rummage around. Suddenly the landlord re-appeared.

"Oy, what the hell d'ya think yer doin'?" asked the landlord, angrily.

"Champagne cork."

"Yer what?" asked the puzzled man.

"Where is the Champagne cork?" Martin asked sharply.

"In the bin, where d'ya think it is?" came the man's sarcastic reply.

"Well you must retrieve it… NOW!" shouted Martin.

"On yer bike, yer stupid idiot."

Martin just stood there looking at the man incredulously.

"My… err, what I mean is, the… Oh God, just give me the damn cork won't you?" barked Martin, who was by now anxiously looking at his watch.

Louisa was well ahead of him in the ambulance and he really didn't want to be that far behind her when they reached the hospital in Truro.

Before he had left her, in the dubiously safe hands of the paramedics, she had asked him to find the cork. She wanted to keep it as a memento of when she had given birth to her son. She also wanted Martin to find a menu from the pub, so she could remember exactly where it was that he was born.

Martin couldn't really understand it, but he thought he better go along with her wishes, especially since she was less than happy with him over his comments about the shape of the baby's head.

Why was it that she always had to get shirty with him whenever he made any medical observations? That was what he was trained to do after all. He was only doing his job. She always took it so personally though; either that or she was just incredibly hormonal… all of the time. Which he knew was highly unlikely.

The realisation that he was now a father hadn't really sunk in at all. Holding the tiny bundle in his large hands had been a very humbling experience. He'd told Louisa that he would try and learn and in that moment he had sincerely meant everything he said, but truthfully, he didn't know if he was capable of nurturing a child.

He had no experiences of his own that he could draw upon. His own childhood had been a pretty bleak and cold existence. Only during the few weeks each year that he stayed with his Aunt Joan and Uncle Phil, could he ever remember being loved as a child should be.

Having secured both of the "souvenirs" that Louisa was so adamant that he get, he cleared his thoughts and made his way back out to his Lexus.

Finally, sitting in the driver's seat, he placed his hands on the steering wheel, let out a huge sigh and allowed his body to relax into the soft leather upholstery. The events of the day had suddenly caught up with Martin and the enormity of the situation that he now found himself in was nearly too much for him to bear.

He blinked away tears as an image of the crashed taxi came into his mind. At that very moment he was certain that he had lost both Louisa and his unborn child. Never had he felt so desperate. Not even when he had been banging on the doors of the cupboard that imprisoned him as a child. Begging his parents to let him out from the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs.

The thought that he would never see Louisa again, that he would never hold his child in his arms, almost consumed him. He pinched the top of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and dragged away the tears that were welling up uncontrollably.

"Pull yourself together, Ellingham," he told himself, sternly.

He'd lingered at the pub long enough. Louisa and his son would soon arrive at hospital and Martin needed to be there to ensure that they were given the best treatment possible. He couldn't leave it to the incompetent Truro staff to treat his precious… family.

This thought… his family, gave him a sudden warm feeling inside. But could that actually be possible? He'd confessed to Louisa that he'd been wrong about leaving, about everything really. Would Louisa want them to be a "family"?

Of course she wanted the baby, he'd known from the moment he saw her that she'd make a lovely mother and he knew that his son would be loved more than anything else in the world. In a way, that was why he had finally made the decision to leave Portwenn. Not because he really wanted to, circumstances had just spiralled out of control and it had been obvious to him that Louisa didn't want him to have anything to do with the child. She was more than capable of bringing up the baby on her own; she didn't need him, even though he had very cruelly informed her, on more than one occasion. that she would struggle with the task. Looking back now, he realised how hurtful that must have been to Louisa.

With doubts and worries swirling around in his head, he started up the Lexus and pulled carefully away from the pub.

~x~