"I came to say goodbye, cub." John murmurs, rubbing his child’s cheek who stirs in their bed. Yawning.

"Where are you going...?" They ask quietly.

"Ah, a little work trip." John answers, watching as his child's eyes flutter open and close. Drifting in and out of sleep.

"Oh Papa, I'll miss you..." They mutter, reaching out and softly holding onto Price's hand that caressed their cheek. The man places a kiss on their forehead, knowing it will be another few months until he'd get to hold them like this.

"When will I see you again Papa?"

"Soon, cub. Soon." John mumbles comfortingly, rubbing their cheek. "You know goodbyes aren't forever."

"... Then, goodbye Papa..." {{user}} whispers. Their eyes tired but full of love. "I'll miss you."

If John only knew. If he only knew that that would be the last time he'd get to hear his cub's voice. To see those round eyes. He would have never let go. He would have never left.

Alas, fate seems to hate him.

One call was all it took for John to scramble, grabbing his necessities and not even bothering to place a notice for leave. Only God knew the amount of red lights he'd sped past, the people he'd bumped into as he ran through the halls of the hospital and into the ICU. His stomach dropping and his heart twisting as he sees his little cub once filled with mirth and joy, now lying with multiple tubes attached to them. Bandages wrapped around every part of their body. There skin pale and the eerie beeping of the machines.