The mild warmth of the day was beginning to grow into an evening chill when John was finally limping to get his baby boy from the child centre. The stressful day caused aching in his shoulder and a throbbing pain in his leg. He wished he had his cane with him but it was hidden down the side of his wardrobe, untouched in weeks.
He didn't blame the hospital for calling him in; it had been a mess when he arrived. Patients everywhere in desperate need for attention and more injured coming through the doors every second. They needed someone like John p- quick but attentively thorough. His military training coming into good use to see to as many people as he could.
There was no doubt that lives were saved again today but this wasn't rare in a hospital like Barts.
He could see the doors to the day centre and he hurried to get there. Guilt consumed him but, in reality, he wasn't at fault. He couldn't have left those people to die and neither could he just conjure up a partner to spend time with Hamish whenever he couldn't.
The doors opened and John saw Hamish waiting on the desk beside the door woman. He frowned. Had something happened?
"Hamish?" John asked. Exhaustion clear in his voice.
There weren't many kids about now as most had been picked up already. Hamish was one of the few left until this time.
"Papa!" The boy threw himself off the other chair behind the desk and bolted towards his papa at lightening speed.
"Hey, baby." He lifted him into a tight embrace. He turned to the woman, concerned, "Has everything been okay?"
"Yes! He just decided that he wanted to wait for you and nothing we said would change his mind. He was telling me all about his daddy. He's very proud." Her smile was gentle.
"How long has it been?"
"Probably about an hour."
Guilt swallowed him up, making his soul feel nasty and rotten. What kind of a father leaves his son for so long? He swallowed before pulling out his wallet.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Don't worry about it, Dr Watson." Ellie said as she entered into the foyer. "We heard about the accident. It's only right for us to watch this little monkey while you help people." She smiled, bopping the young boy on the nose.
"Are you sure? Thank you so much." He gushed before bidding the ladies a fair well and heading out onto the street.
He blinked slowly as exhaustion seeped into his muscles. At least they gave him Sunday off to recover.
Hamish watched his papa sleep. He was snoring heavily as he always did whenever he was truly out of it and his mouth hung open too. The man's eyelids twitched as he passed through the REM cycle.
The little boy snuggled under the blankets on the cold side of the bed. He'd woken up thirsty and, after a sip of the water bottle by his bed, he'd ventured off to find papa. As predicted, the man was sleeping so Hamish slipped in beside him without waking him.
The small boy felt back asleep within mere moments despite his father snoring beside him.
They both slept in until late on Sunday which was unusual but they'd both grown tired after a full week. John's eyes finally cracked open at 9:30 and he couldn't believe Hamish had let him sleep for so long. The little boy was playing with his favourite stuffed animal beside his father. He mumbled quietly while making the monkey leap across the blankets.
"Morning, Hamish." John yawned, while he rubbed his eyes, "What's monkey doing today?"
The blond boy squealed in excitement to see his father had awoken, "Monkey runs!" He made the brown stuffed animal run over his father's blanket covered stomach, "He runs from bad man."
"What bad man?" John leant his head as he inquired.
"From the dream." Hamish stated as he continued playing.
"You know that no bad men can get you here, Ishy. I'm here to stop them." John lifted the boy so they were looking into each other's grey eyes.
"Papa good at stopping bad man. Daddy told so." John always forgot how well Hamish spoke when they were alone. Around others he seemed to close up and almost recede in his ability.
"When did Daddy say that?" John frowned, he held Hamish's face gently to make sure the boy didn't start to loose concentration on the topic. He needed an answer from his son.
"In the dream." The boy answered truthfully.
"Okay, good boy." John places a kiss to his son's hairline.
Hamish settled down in the bed beside his father and rested his small head against the pillow while he pulled the blanket to cover his shoulders. Small hands fiddled with the toy. The boy blinked slowly, tears forming in his eyes.
"Ishy? What's wrong?" John, instantly concerned, turned in his side so he mirrored his son's position.
Grey eyes focused on the threading on the pure white pillowcase, "I miss Daddy." The boy's voice shook.
"Oh, baby." John said quietly as he pulled Hamish in his arms, "I miss Daddy too." He didn't know what to say. He wasn't great with this emotional stuff but he knew he had to comfort his son.
"When Daddy home?" He clung to his father.
"Ishy... Daddy isn't coming home." It broke his heart but he'd kept up the lie for too long now. Tears pricked in his eyes but he stayed strong for Hamish.
Hamish suddenly burst into tears. He shook as the emotion ripped through his tiny body. Guilt tore it's way into John's heart. He was a bad father.
"Where Daddy?"
"Come here, Ishy." John pulled the boy into his arms as he leant up against the headboard. He cradled him like he did when his son was so new and tiny, when they'd first gotten him. "Papa's here." He stroked his back and wiped his nose until the child didn't have any more tears to shed.