With his cheeks flushed and his eyes wet with tears, Gallahan burst into his sons bedroom.

He was meant to be working, yet he had gotten and urgent letter that his poor baby had been bullied and hurt- hit with a wooden sword!- in the gardens and had rushed over.

His precious boy was lying on the bed, looking small and fragile- a far cry from the loud, energetic child he always was.

"Oh, my baby..." He whispered, and gently brushed a hand over the boys hair, head wrapped in bandages.