"Sherlock!" He's angry. Has someone told him about- "Why the hell does Hamish have a box of chicks in his room?"
"Oh. That." Good. Nothing bad has happened.(Neither has he been told about my shouting at his sister-within reason, she'd called him in the middle of the night to yell at him for 'not being there' while she was 'having a bad time', though of course John was fighting in the war. She's back to drinking, of course.) "I was experimenting with how tapping the shells affect their development. So that needs further study, of course. I brought them home because Hamish really loves them when I showed him them in the lab."
"Chicks in a St Bart's lab?"
"They didn't know. Plus, you said I couldn't bring animals home anymore."
"And you see no problem here? Nothing to tell me?" John rocks on his heels. Oh. I should have said. Shouldn't have brought them at all.
"But Hamish technically brought them. He wanted them so much-"
"You are spoiling him. Now, you're going to go upstairs and explain that the chicks need to go back to the lab. It's not his fault."
"But what if he-"
"Yes, Hai will be upset, maybe even mad at you, but it won't last long. It never does. You tell him off all the time and he gets upset, and that doesn't matter. Why is it so bad for you to refuse him things?"
"I don't give him everything." I stand up, making for the door.
"I know. Just-well. Don't go back on rules okay? And maybe ask me first when you're buying anything over one hundred pounds."
"I did that once."
"Go. It's fine, you know really. I know it's just easier for you to keep Hamish complacent that deal with his emotional response, it's okay."
I walk upstairs and John goes to the kitchen to make tea, signing loudly.
I stop for a second, listening. Hamish is shouting something. Oh. He's lost a chick. I run upstairs then, if it crawls under the floorboards John's going to be mad, and Hamish probably upset (On the other hand, it may be interesting to see what Hamish does, or how long he takes to ask for help. Maybe even seeing whether the animal would get free itself).
As soon as I walk in, Hamish stops shouting, sitting back on his heels. "What was that noise?" Lately, I've been playing dumb, making sure Hamish wouldn't lie to everyone else when he misbehaves.
"I was playing." Hamish looks over into the cardboard box with the heated lamp for the chicks. I look over his shoulder, (I'm not going to test him today, too much chance of him becoming agitated and upset) (full stop, and make this a new paragraph)"Then why are there only 3 chicks now? Have you put the fourth somewhere?"
"No," Hamish whispers, I stare at him and he continues, "I was playing and I turned around to look at the other babies and he just went and now I can't find him and…"
"Okay. And do you have food left we can tempt him with?"
"They ate all of it."
Hmm. I tell Hamish to sit still and listen. No tell-tale squeaking. I begin to pace the room, the movement should scare the chick and either send it running out or at least force it into making enough noise that I can get to it.
No reaction.
"What if he's hurt or starving or what if he-"
"Quiet, Hamish." Hamish settles again, moving to stand on his bed and look around the room. "Could it have gone out of the door? Or were you blocking it?"
"Maybe he went out. I don't know."
"I think it would have broken its neck if it fell down the stairs, so stay there."
Hamish panics "He's dead? No!"
"I don't know yet. Stay there." I step out and shut Hamish's bedroom door behind me.
Nothing. The stairs are clear and so is the landing. It's definitely under the floorboards already. This means I'm going to have to take up some of the carpet (there's a loose corner in Hai's room anyway, and the pipe for the heater leaves the gap I assume the chick slipped down when looking for warmth).
"It's fine." I step back inside the room and Hamish sighs with relief. "Now, move. I need to move your bed across a little." Hai obliges (still getting in my way) and I move the bed. I lift the carpet at the corner and take up the floorboard nearest the radiator.
Of course, the chick is right there. Exactly as I predicted.
"Here, Hamish." I bend down to pick it up and hand him the now finally chirping bird.
"Yay!" Hamish jumps, but is hands are still gentle clutching the chick. "He's called Jake and he's fast and silly and he's my favourite and he-"
"Can you sit him down please?" I sit on Hamish's bed, which I'd moved back into place as I was talking. Hai takes the chick to the box and looks up at me, sometimes he'll be trying to read me, but right now he just looks innocent, a little concerned if anything. "Come sit here."
Hamish moves over to the bed, at first sitting on the side of the bed then moving onto my knee. "You know you're not supposed to have pets. And these are going to grow up really big and make a lot of mess."
"But-"
"No. We're going to take the birds to a farm and they'll have a nice life before they're sold for meat."
"What?" Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned the meat part. "They'll die?"
"Everyone dies. But the birds will live well enough until they're made into chicken nuggets. "
"I want to keep them." Hamish leans against me, and I stroke his hair.
"I know. But you can't. It was silly to bring them home."
"They're so cute and little though. Will they be okay on a farm with all the big animals?" I laugh, but his eyelashes are wet with tears he'd been trying to keep back.
"Oh Hai, don't be upset." I hug him tighter and push pack his hair (it's getting long now, it's probably due to be cut) "They'll be fine. You're taking better care of them if you take them to the farm."
"But I'll miss them."
"I know. Do you want to come to the farm with me?" Hamish nods and I carry him downstairs (maybe he's getting too big, but it doesn't matter).
John has dinner ready and Hamish inspects it, looking disdainful. "It's chicken."
"You like chicken." John hands him a glass of water and sits down.
"It's like the babies upstairs."
"Well…"
"I don't want to eat it."
John sighs (full stop) "Just chicken, or any meat?"
"All meat. They're babies and we shouldn't kill them and I don't want to eat them."
"Okay." He removes the plate and gives Hamish the potatoes that had been on the side and a little more veg. "Is this forever? We'll get you special foods, that's all."
"Yes." Hamish smiles and begins to eat. Though statistically he is likely to break after a few days, I'm not going to say anything for once. John isn't, so it's not good.
"And vitamins." John mutters. "Oh, and Sherlock, can you sign those papers for me?"
"You can pass of my signature by now."
"Please." He sounds tired. I oblige and sit down, looking through the forms.
"Are you okay? Not caught something from a patient?"
"I'm fine."
"You should wear a mask .I don't want you getting ill." John takes my free hand with the one he isn't using to eat.
"Unusually considerate. But it's okay. I'm not ill, just exhausted. I'll be better in the morning."
"I'll give Hai his bath and put him to bed, and we'll watch something." John smiles, setting down his fork and getting up, despite the fact he has not yet finished the meal.
"And you won 't complain about what I choose? Won't criticise every detail?"
"Now that's stupid. Impossible." John laughs and gets up to put his plate away, kissing Hamish's head on his way past.
