Killian was really beginning to hate mid-week games. He'd always kind of disliked the timing of them. If he was lucky he'd get three days between matches and if he was unlucky, he'd only have two. It was never enough time to truly recover from a gruelling game and then prepare yourself for another. But it wasn't something he'd ever complained about before. He was paid well for doing his job and he was certain the people who were currently doing their best to treat Henry had it far worse than he did.

The problem with his current dislike for the system stemmed entirely around that little boy. A mid-week game always ended up reducing the amount of time he could spend with Henry, regardless of where he was playing. If he was fortunate and United was at home, he'd get an hour or two with the kid before heading back to the grounds for training. If he was unfortunate and the game was played down South, he wouldn't even get that. And Champion's League matches out of the country were even worse!

The problem was that the more he got to know Henry, the more Killian wished he could spend all of his free time with the little boy.

The first Wednesday of Henry's conditioning treatment happened to be one of Killian's unlucky days. A Premier League game would see him pulled away for most of the day, so Killian had slipped away from training while all of the other guys were enjoying a spot of lunch. He had two hours before he'd need to board a coach that would take the team down to Birmingham for their game that evening. Accounting for the time it would take him to drive back to the training grounds and how long it had taken him to get to the hospital, he had a little under an hour left to spend with Henry. And Killian knew that wouldn't be long enough for either of them.

However, all thoughts of his game later that day left his mind the moment Killian pushed his way through the double doors and onto Henry's unit. He'd gotten used to the kind of cautiously optimistic atmosphere that often filled the space, so the unnerving silence and tension the unit carried that morning were alarming.

Killian hurried past the nurse's station without so much as a glance in their direction, and down the hall towards Henry's room. But his feet froze in place when his eyes landed on the hunched form sat on one of the stiff plastic chairs perched against the wall beside Henry's door. Killian would know that silhouette anywhere.

"Emma?"

Her head shot up revealing red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks over both cheeks. She'd been crying and for a brief moment, Killian felt like his world had been turned upside down. All it took was Emma gasping out his name to make him move again. In two long strides, he had gathered her into his arms and hugged her as close to his chest as he could physically get her.

Killian could feel Emma's body trembling against his own as her tears soaked into the material of his training jacket. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't seem to bring himself to ask them… because if he did, that would make it all real… and none of this could be real.

"I'm sorry," Emma eventually whispered, pulling away from his chest.

Killian wanted to tell her that she shouldn't be the one apologising, and definitely not to him. But his throat was so dry that all he could do was make odd, wheezing noises.

"The uh… Henry had a reaction this morning to the chemotherapy. Doctor Whale wanted to try a new anti-sickness medication for him, to see if that helped ease things a little. But Henry uh… he had an uh… he had a bad reaction to it. He should be okay but they're um… they're gonna run a few tests – just to be sure."

Killian felt like he'd taken a knee to the chest. All of the breath inside of him left on an exhale as he flopped down into the seat Emma had just vacated.

Henry was alive!

Henry was alive and that was all that really mattered right then.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you," Emma said, dropping down into the seat next to his. "I just… I get so scared every time something like this happens. And when he was seizing –"

"It's okay," Killian interrupted, reaching over to take her hand into his. "It's okay, Emma. I understand. You should have called me, though. I'd have been here much sooner if I knew what was happening."

"I didn't want to leave him." She left the just in case unspoken, but Killian could hear it loud and clear in her tone.

"Of course. I'd probably have done the same thing."

Emma turned to offer him a small, watery smile, and Killian was shocked to realise his vision was a little blurred by tears when he returned it. He reached up to wipe them away and found his cheeks damp from the tracks they had made down his face. Killian hadn't even felt them falling.

"What uh… when can we see him?"

"Soon. Belle and Ashley were just getting him cleaned up a little. I'm sure they'll be done soon. And Doctor Whale's ordering a CT scan. He wants to be sure the seizure was a reaction to the medication and not something more sinister."

Killian nodded his head in understanding and then sat back in his seat, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. He felt worse than he ever had after a particularly gruelling game. In the space of a few minutes he'd gone from being excited to see his little friend again to terrified that he'd lost the boy forever, and then flooded with relief at the knowledge that Henry was still with them. Both his mind and body needed time to catch up, and it was time that he knew he wouldn't get.

When the door to Henry's room finally opened, Belle emerged with a comforting smile on her face. A blonde-haired nurse Killian had only seen a handful of times before was just a step behind her.

"He's okay now," Belle promised, as she moved to crouch in front of where Emma and Killian were sitting while her friend headed back down the hallway. "He's been sedated to help us calm him down and give his body a little bit of rest. It'll also help us scan him without worrying him too much. He'll probably be out of it for the rest of the day but you're welcome to sit and talk to him for as long as you'd like."

"Thanks, Belle."

"Yeah, thank you, Belle," Killian added, offering her a small smile of gratitude. He thought that at that moment, he might finally understand a little of what it was like to be a parent because he'd never been more relieved to hear from a medical professional than he was just then.

While Belle headed for the nurse's station, Emma and Killian pushed themselves up to their feet to make their way into Henry's room.

Killian had thought he'd seen Henry at his lowest point before. He'd been certain that nothing inside that hospital room would ever surprise him again. But once more, he was proven wrong.

Henry's little body was resting in the very centre of a neatly made bed. He was unnaturally still and deathly pale in a way that made Killian's stomach churn. And he was pretty sure there were a few more wires attached to the lad than there had been the day before. In the short time that Killian had known him, Henry had never looked as ill as he did at that moment.

Emma didn't seem overly phased by her son's appearance, which in itself was concerning. Instead of taking a moment to look him over, she dashed straight around the bed to the side she usually sat on and dropped down onto the very edge of the mattress to take Henry's hand into hers.

Killian turned away for a moment as he heard her whisper assurances and declarations of love to her little boy. He wanted to offer her as much privacy as he could, but now that he was in Henry's room, Killian felt oddly reluctant to leave it.

When the whispering finally stopped, he abandoned his bag on the small cupboard beside the door and then made his way over to the seat next to the bed.

"Hey, little man," Killian declared, hooking his ankle around the chair leg to pull it a little closer to Henry's bedside. "You gave me one hell of a fright there." Killian eased his body down into the scratched leather of the chair and reached for Henry's hand. When it was wrapped up tightly in his own, he added, "Try not to do that again, yeah? I'm not sure my heart can take it."

Emma made a small sobbing noise from the other side of the bed and Killian did his best to pretend that he hadn't heard it. He knew she'd probably already been through an emotional wringer that morning, and the last thing he wanted to do was make things awkward for her. So instead, he decided to talk to Henry. He wasn't sure if the little boy would hear him, given that he was sedated, but Killian didn't like the idea of sitting in silence.

"You'll be happy to hear that Robin's finally been given a clean bill of health from our doctors," he began gently, recalling the conversation he'd had earlier that day with one of his closest teammates. "Hopefully that means we'll be able to get him back into games for longer now, so that he can really strengthen the back four. John's a good substitute, don't get me wrong, but his record isn't quite as clean as Robin's. And the Gaffer wants to knock down our goal difference a little as we head towards the middle of the season."

"What uh… what do you mean?" Emma interrupted, from the other side of the bed. She had Henry's hand sandwiched tightly between her own and cradled close to her heart. Killian was pretty certain she didn't care much about what he'd just said, but he would happily explain any and all footballing terms to her, if it helped her to feel a little better.

"Robin's our centre-back. He's a defender. His position is in the middle of our defence, so his main job is to protect the goal. He's very vocal in that role. We're all quite used to him barking out orders to us wherever we are on the pitch, because he tends to hang back and keep an eye on the play more than the rest of us do."

"I think I've seen that," Emma added. "At least… I've seen someone doing that in some of the games I've seen."

"Yeah, most centre-backs operate that way. You never know when a stray ball will be booted up the field as a last-ditch effort to prevent an attack on goal, so it's always better to have someone there to collect it and then bring the game back under some kind of control." While Killian had never been part of a game that involved a stray ball leading to an unlikely goal before, he'd seen plenty of them in his lifetime.

"And what's a goal difference?" Emma asked. "I'm sure my dad's tried explaining it before but I'm not sure I uh… understood it?"

Killian snorted out a laugh at the questioning tone her voice had taken on at the end of her statement. He was sure that what she'd meant to say was that she hadn't listened when her father had explained it, but she didn't want to tell a professional footballer that she found his job boring. At least, not to his face.

"It's exactly what it sounds like," he told her. "The difference between the goals we score and the goals we concede. It's not often important but if points become close at the top of the table, a poor goal difference could end up costing us a place in Europe."

Emma still looked a little confused by Killian's explanation but before she could voice her questions, the door to Henry's room was pushed open and nurse Belle made her way into the space with a couple of men in green shirts just behind her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you guys but Mark and Billy are here to take Henry down for his CT scan."

"Of course," Emma stated, all emotion draining from her face as she gave her son's hand a brief squeeze and then let it go.

"We'll be very careful with him, Miss Swan. And I promise we'll bring him straight back up to you," one of the porters assured her.

Emma gave him a tight-lipped smile as she pushed herself to her feet and then bent over to brush her lips to Henry's forehead. Killian could just make out her whispered words of love before she backed away and folded her arms over her chest.

"See you soon, little guy," Killian told Henry, giving the lad a kiss of his own as he let go of Henry's other hand and then stood up to move out of the way.

The porters were incredibly efficient in the way they unhooked all of Henry's machines and wires, draping some over the side of the bed and hanging others from a large pole that they unfolded from behind his head. All of their actions were carefully overseen by Belle, who followed them from the room and down the hallway. Killian felt a little more reassured about what was happening now that he knew Belle would be with Henry while he was away from his mother. So instead of worrying about what a CT scan would entail, Killian turned his attention back to Emma.

She was stood at the widow to Henry's room, looking out over the hospital grounds as she hugged her arms around her chest. To anyone else, she would have looked distracted, but Killian knew this was her way of trying to hold herself together. Whatever she'd seen that morning had terrified her, and he would have given anything to take that pain from her right then.

"Do you um… do you wanna go and get some coffee while Henry's being scanned?" he asked, hoping that it would provide her with a much-needed distraction.

"I uh… I need to call my parents first and tell them what happened," she replied emotionlessly. Killian didn't even want to think about how many times she'd been through this process alone before. But he did make himself a silent promise to never let her go through it alone again.

"Well, why don't you go and do that, and I'll order our drinks?" he suggested.

It took a moment for Emma to finally nod her agreement and when she did, Killian guided her from the room with a hand placed reassuringly on her lower back. He left his hand there as they stepped onto the elevator and to his surprise, the moment the doors slid shut, Emma leaned into his side and dropped her head down to rest against his chest.

"Thank you. For being here. For me."

"You don't need to thank me for that, Emma. I just wish I could have been here sooner."

Emma didn't say anything else but she didn't really need to. Killian knew that if a situation such as the one she'd faced that morning arose again, she wouldn't hesitate to call him. Because as much as she'd tried to hide it, he could tell that she needed someone just as much as Henry needed his mother's comfort and reassurances during this process.

When they stepped out of the elevator, the two of them reluctantly parted ways with Emma heading for the bathrooms close to phlebotomy and Killian making his way down the halls towards the small Costa he'd come to know well. Before he could take his place in the queue that had formed, however, his phone began vibrating in his pocket.

He pulled out the device with the intention of turning it off but froze when he saw the word GAFFER on his screen. Suddenly, memories of where he was supposed to be and why assaulted his brain and for a brief moment, Killian found himself unable to move as he tried to decide what he should do.

"Hello?" he finally asked, as he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear.

"Where the bloody hell are you, Boy? You were supposed to be on a bus five minutes ago."

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm uh… I'm not coming," he eventually said, surprising himself a little with the conviction behind his words.

"Excuse me? This had better be your stupid attempt at some kind of joke," Gold barked over the line.

"It's not, Sir. I'm sorry. I don't mean to let you down and certainly not on such short notice I just… I need to be with Henry and Emma right now. They need me more than you guys do."

There was silence over the line for what felt like an eternity before Gold spoke up again. "Is the little lad okay?" he asked.

"He uh… he had a bad reaction to his medication. They're giving him a CT scan now to make sure it was just the medication and not something more serious that caused his seizure."

Gold said nothing again for another long minute – and Killian hated every second of it. He was sure that his gaffer would insist on him returning to the training ground or tell him to find his own way down to Birmingham for the game later that evening. So when Gold spoke, Killian was already bracing himself for the worst.

"I'll tell the press you pulled your hamstring during training today."

"Huh?"

"I'll make an excuse for you, Jones," Gold clarified, and Killian swore he could hear the older man rolling his eyes over the line. "But I won't make a habit of this. Next time, you call me. Do you understand me, Boy?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir."

"Good. As it is, I'm docking you a week's pay for not calling to tell me sooner. Hopefully that will help you remember the next time something like this happens."

"Of course, Sir. I really am sorry. I just got so caught up in what was happening that I forgot about where I was supposed to be. It won't happen again, Sir. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Gold told him, but Killian could tell from his tone that Gold was thinking more about the circumstances Killian had found himself in, and not about his captain's perceived unreliability. "Just make sure you keep your head down and when you're asked about why you missed the match, feed people the same line I'll be giving them tonight at the pre-game press conference."

"I will do, Sir. Thanks again for being so understanding."

"Yeah, well… take care of the lad," Gold said, before disconnecting the call.

Killian slipped his phone back into his pocket as he joined the small queue for coffee. He hadn't expected Gold to let him off as easily as he had. He could have been fined a hell of a lot more and benched for the foreseeable future. Thankfully, his gaffer seemed to have a soft spot for Henry than rivalled his own.

When Killian finally had two cups of coffee in his hands, he made his way over to one of the tables at the back of the room, where Emma was already waiting for him. She looked like she'd cried again recently, but Killian didn't want to make her feel any worse by bringing it up, so he simply slid her drink over to her as he took his seat at the table.

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while, just sipping at their drinks and watching the people around them.

Emma was the first to break that silence and when she did, it was with a question Killian hadn't been expecting from her.

"Don't you have a game soon that you should be preparing for?"

"No. I'm right where I need to be," he replied honestly.

Emma offered Killian another small smile before reaching out to lace the fingers of her free hand with his own.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.