Sherlock quickly helped John up and into the chair in the corner.
"Yes, Hamish?"
"Is Papa okay?"
John sat down, quickly composing himself and wiping his tears from his cheeks. "I'm fine, Hamish. I promise."
Sherlock went to his seat next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, I suppose. Just a little tired still."
Sherlock put a hand on his son's forehead and forced a smile.
"I bet. Go back to sleep."
Hamish's face fell. "Daddy, when can I go home?"
Sherlock's heart broke and he glanced over at John.
"Soon, Hamish. Very soon." Still, he forced a smile.
Hamish smiled back and closed his eyes again.