Hamish woke up the next morning and asked Sherlock to get him something to eat. He and John were alone in the room.

"Papa…?"

"Yes?" John walked over and took Sherlock's usual seat next to the bed.

"Why were you crying the other day?"

"Oh, it's nothing," he said softly. "I'm alright."

Hamish looked at him with tears in his eyes. "Am I going to die?" His lip shook as he spoke.

"No. You're not going to die." It took everything in him not to burst into tears. They both looked up as Sherlock came back and handed Hamish his food.

"Papa, I'm afraid," he whispered as John stood up.

"Hamish, it's going to be alright. We'll be going home soon." He hated lying to him like that, but they didn't have much of a choice. He took Hamish's hand and kissed his forehead. "Be strong." He said it to Hamish, but it was also to Sherlock and himself. Hamish closed his eyes and sighed.

"I love you, Papa."

John was choked up. He struggled with the words and forced them out.

"I love you, too, Hamish. I always will."

Hamish smiled. A few moments later he opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too."

He closed his eyes again. Sherlock was crying and spoke so softly that John could barely hear.

"You are everything to me, Hamish. You are my whole life and you have been since I first saw you. There are so many things I've wanted to tell you but haven't gotten the chance. I am so proud of you. I love you more than anything in this world. I wish… I wish it were me, lying in that bed. I wish I could help you. I wish there was something I could do."