John slowly opened his eyes, and saw his child in the hospital bed, as quiet as ever. His son was sleeping, and a stuff skull lay beside the child. John stood up, and streched his legs, pacing back a forth, trying to take his mind off of the inevitable end.

At last, he just sighed, and pulled the deerstalker from his pocket, and placed it on the sleeping child's bald head. "Good night Sherlock, good night, my dear child." He let a single tear spill down from his eye, and opened the door, to call in a nurse. "It's too late. Just take him off of the life support. He's gone now." The nurse nodded, and called the Doctor in, pushing John out of the room.