"Sidney Brown."

The seven-year-old yelped, throwing the slim notebook under his bed and turning innocent eyes on his father. "Good morning Daddy!"

Father Brown was unconvinced, folding his arms over his chest, "And just what are you up to?"

"Nothing! I was- uh- I was only- going out to play!" Sidney raced past his Dad, heading towards the front door, as Father Brown groaned in exasperation.

"Stay out of the roads! Stick to the grass!"

"Yes Daddy!"

And then the front door was slammed shut, closely followed by Mrs McCarthy opening it again to yell out about closing the door like a 'gentleman not a hooligan!'

This was then closely followed by, "Stay out of the mud, it takes me forever to clean the stains off of your clothes!"

Bending down, Father Brown retrieved the notebook, instantly recognising it as one of his own… one that he would write down case notes in.

One that mentioned Flambeau often.

Yes, Sidney might not be able to read all the words, but he could read enough, and it was entirely possible, he read some of what Father Brown had written about his mother.

"Little thief." He muttered fondly, before shaking his head and shoving the notebook in his pocket and heading to his own room.

Just for a little prayer.

…

"And we're up, up and away!"

Sid leapt from the tree, remaining in the air for a few moments, before landing heavily on the ground, and rolling to safety as the other children cheered.

It was going against everything that Mrs McCarthy had told him that morning, but Sid continued to roll down the grassy hill until he was nearly in the middle of the road, diving out of the way as the police car beeped angrily.

"Sidney Brown!" Sergeant Valentine stepped out of the car, glaring down at the young boy, "What have we told you about rolling down those hills?"

"Not to." Sid beamed cheekily up at him, "How are you today Sergeant?"

Valentine glared down at the boy for a moment, before a fond smile appeared on his face and he shook his head fondly.

"That smile won't work every time you know."

"Is it going to work this time?"

"… Go on! Off the road!" Valentine rolled his eyes, "You don't want to- "

"-FIRE! FIRE!"

Sid and Valentine turned as several people came rushing over, all frantically crowding around Valentine.

"It's Father Brown's home!" One of them called out, "The Father's home is on fire!"

Valentine's eyes widened in alarm, moving to grab Sid, only to miss as the seven-year-old raced back towards home.

"DAD! DAD!"

"SIDNEY! GET BACK HERE!"

….

"Dad!" Sidney stared at the burning building, "Dad!"

He moved to push past the firemen, only to be grabbed around the waist and lifted into the air,

"No, no, no!" Valentine kept a tight hold of the squirming child, "You can't go in there!"

"DAD!"

"Sergeant Valentine!"

Valentine turned, sighing in relief at the sight of Mrs McCarthy rushing over to them, her shopping basket full. Before he could say anything though, Mrs McCarthy dropped the basket in shock at the sight of the fire.

"Father Brown!" She gasped, turning to Valentine, "He's still in there!"

…..

He couldn't breathe.

He drew his hands to his chest, fingertips burnt and bleeding, scrabbling for air.

He really couldn't breathe.

The fire roared all around him, eating hungrily at the home around him, flames licking at the wood of the structure and turning years' worth of memories into soot and ash.

Father Brown winced as he coughed harshly, unable to gather up the strength to try and find a way out.

He was only vaguely aware of the heat all around him, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, hearing the screams coming from outside.

Sidney.

He had to get to Sidney.

Mustering up what little energy he had left, he pulled himself towards the exit, just as shadowy figures made their way inside.

"We've got him!" A voice cried out, "We've got him!"

Father Brown sighed in relief, before allowing the darkness to creep in.

…..…

"He inhaled a lot of smoke, but he'll be fine." The Doctor reported, "I'd like to keep him here for a few days, just to make sure he can breathe on his own."

Mrs McCarthy nodded tearfully, Sid in her arms.

"Is there… is there anyone who can look after the child?"

"… Me. Of course."

The Doctor winced at the offended tone in her voice, "I was just- "

"- I have helped raised this child since he was just a mere babe." Mrs McCarthy straightened up, looking the man right in the eye, "The Father will be back on his feet in no time at all, but until then, I can manage."

"I-I apologise, I just thought that his mother might- "

"- Sidney's mother is in no position to take care of him at this time." Mrs McCarthy lifted Sid into her arms, "Please, let us know if there are any changes in his condition."

…..….

Flambeau was already well on his way to Kembleford when he heard the news about the fire.

One of his old business partners had decided to get a little revenge, and Flambeau knew that the first person they'd go for, was the Father.

The only one to ever nearly get the better of him.

When he heard about the fire however, he feared the worst.

What if someone had found out about Sidney as well?

Due to the chaos of the fire and the attack on the Father, he found it easy to sneak into the hospital and find the man. Disguised as a Doctor, he headed into the room, sighing in relief at the sight of the Father unconscious on the bed.

He knew it could have been a lot, lot worse.

"Oh Father." He whispered, moving over to the bed, placing his hand on top of the Alpha's, "You will give me grey hairs one of these days."

"Who are you?"

Flambeau flinched, spinning around to see a small child staring up at him… a very familiar small child.

"Sidney."

Sidney frowned and tilted his head to the side in confusion. "Who are you?"

"I-I- " Oh, how Flambeau hated this. The ability to be struck dumb like this, "- I'm a friend of your Father's."

Sidney had definitely got his suspicious nature, as he narrowed his eyes and glared at him. "No, you're not." He stated matter-of-factly, "Otherwise you wouldn't be dressed like a Doctor and sneaking around."

"I- " There is was again. That dumb-struck awe.

Flambeau had never been so proud.

"Are you…" Sidney hesitated for a few moments, looking down sheepishly, "… are you my Mummy?"

He could lie… he really should lie.

"… Yes."

Dammit.