To Make Life Worth Living

~7~

Hamish playing with play dough on the little coffee table as John sat down with a cup of tea and flicked on the news. He sipped the hot liquid carefully.

The London news hadn't changed over the last week or so. The headlines were all focused on these somehow linked suicides. Greg was sat at the table with his sergeant beside him; John had never asked her name. The doctor felt bad for them as he certainly wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of all the questions from the media. But, as usual, his friend dealt with it with the utmost professionalism.

"Papa, I've made flower." Hamish lifted the crude sculpture.

"Good job, Hamish." John praised with a smile with warmth in his tone.

"I make papa." The young boy told his father while his hands began to squish the play dough back into a ball. His mouth turned into a scowl as he concentrated.

John watched him for a moment before his eyes drifted back to the news report. Greg was still heroically jousting with the media and flashing cameras. The man was speaking about how people can keep themselves safe. John chuckled a little as he watched Greg drip with sarcasm before heavily back tracking.

The police officer's mobile vibrated on the table and Greg picked it up to check it. He let out a sigh before addressing the people gathered in the room. John didn't know what was happening as Hamish had once again captured his attention.

"Papa," He held out the model in all its misshapen glory. The boy jumped up and ran the short distance to his father, proudly displaying his masterpiece.

"Wow, Ishy! This is amazing!" With gentle fingers, he picked up the play dough man and inspected it carefully.

The boy beamed with pride before running off to entertain himself with something else. Hamish couldn't sit still for any period of time but John wouldn't change him for the world.

---

"John?" The voice asked when John managed to bring the phone to his ear. The doctor yawned, his eyes still firmly shut.

"Mmmhh?"

There was a hesitant pause,"...Did I wake you?" Greg's voice crackled through. The sound of movement echoed across the line, clearly this Saturday morning was particularly chaotic in Scotland Yard.

"Hm? No," He mumbled, obviously half asleep and obviously lying, "Not at all."

"Good." He decided to ignore John's lie, "I need your help."

"What with?" He still was dangling dangerously on the edge of unconsciousness. He blinked in an attempt to flee the sleepiness.

"Sherlock is checking out a crime scene..." The inspector left it trailing like he expected John to fill in the blanks.

"And?" It was too early to fill in any blanks.

"He is refusing to work with any of the medical examiners but did happen to name drop a certain doctor on the way." The hint was heavy but John's brain wasn't working at this time In the morning.

"That's nice for that guy. Thanks for telling me."

"John, you're the guy."

"Oh."

---

"Thank you so much for that." Greg murmured as they wandered away from the bloody crime scene. John was more than pleased to finally pull his examination gloves off. After touching that, even his clean hands felt tainted with blood.

John shrugged, "It was no problem. I don't see why Sherlock won't work with Anderson or anyone else." He gripped his cane tightly. Today had been a cane day. "They're all perfectly qualified."

"He thinks they're idiots." Lestrade explained easily as he flicked through the notes he'd gathered from the scene.

"Oh yeah? And what does that make me?" He laughed before patting the police officer on the shoulder and limping off towards the main road to hail a cab. He wasn't walking back to the flat when his leg was in the state it is.

Greg frowned slightly as he watch his friend leave. He scratched the top of his grey hair, "What does thatS make you indeed..."