Hamish was sleeping again. Sherlock sat next to his bed and John in the corner, sipping the coffee he didn't really want. A nurse came in and asked to talk to John privately. John stood up and stepped out into the hallway.
"Mr. Watson?"
"Yes?"
"Your son…" She sighed a little before continuing. She always dreaded this part. "We're going to need you and your-" She flipped a paper on her clipboard. "You and Mr. Holmes to make a decision."
John swallowed hard. "What is it?" He choked out the words and his voice was shaking.
"Your son needs to be put on life support or he won't make it more than a week."
John's throat burned and his stomach seemed to twist inside of him. He felt dizzy and for a moment he was speechless.
"Of course." He felt tears stinging his eyes. "I understand." His heart was pounding and he looked at his shoes, breathing deeply. The nurse put her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Watson."
John nodded and went back into the room. Sherlock looked up as he entered.
"What did she say?"
John felt himself getting hot. The room was spinning. His stomach ached and he felt as though he would be sick if he even opened his mouth to speak.
"John, tell me."
His legs became weak and he fell to the floor, running his hands through his hair, wanting to pull it out but not finding the strength.
"John-" Sherlock had already jumped up and knelt by his side. "John, it's okay."
John crouched on the floor, unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe. Then they heard it. A small voice coming from the bed. Both their hearts jumped at the sound.
"Daddy?"