John headed back to the room and he could hear Sherlock talking to Hamish softly. His words did not come out as they usually did, with confidence and a hint of conceit. His voice was weak. John stayed out of sight and listened.
"... the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's only been nine years. Every single one of them was amazing and I would not trade one second of that time for the world. I remember when you took your first step. Your first day of school. I remember when your father taught you how to play rugby and when you solved your first case… I am sorry that-"
Sherlock's voice croaked and he started crying again.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't always be there when you needed me."
John hadn't noticed his own tears until now.
"It had never crossed my mind that I wouldn't see you grow up. I'll never see you go to college. I'll never see you get married or have a family of your own. I never thought this would happen. I am so sorry."
John couldn't breathe. He walked into the room and Sherlock looked up, surprised. John's face was red and streaked from tears.
"John…"
Sherlock got up and went to him, hugging him tightly. John had hidden all of what he felt but now he couldn't control himself. There, in room C494 of The Royal Marsden, he lost it. He fell limp in Sherlock's arms and held tightly to his neck, using him for support, as he looked at their son. The boy who he had dreamed about his whole life. The boy who had been his whole world since he was placed in his arms. It had been nine years, but now it felt like seconds.
"It's not fair, Sherlock…"