Just a Kid With A Deathwish

My name is Hamish Watson-Holmes and this is my personal blog. If you're here intending to bully me into doing your homework for you, you can kindly sod off. [This blog is being restarted. See the About page for more info.] Magic anon: None [Roleplay blog for 17 year old Hamish, son of John and Sherlock. Please read About and Rules before starting anything.] Face claim: Colin Morgan

[imnotmyfather]

#NowPlaying Smells Like Teen Spirit by Freedom Fry I'm fucking obsessed with this cover

[imnotmyfather]

[Wasted-Cartel] Hamish|John

[johnwwwatson]

John thought he had Hamish calmed down enough, but he should’ve known that Hamish wouldn’t remember anything right away. So when his son starts to panic again, John still remains standing, a hand on Hamish’s shoulder to keep him lying on the bed. He needed to stay still, especially with his head wound.

"Hamish, It’s okay, it’s okay." John tried to assure him, then bit his lip. If Hamish was the least damanged out of the five, how were the others? "I don’t know if they are, ‘Mish. But I’ll ask later, okay? You need to rest right now."

[imnotmyfather]

Hamish nodded, letting himself sink back into the bed. He looked down at himself, now, trying to see how bad everything was. Whatever they were pumping through him kept back most of the pain, but not all of it. It was too hard to look at, however, and he chooses to close his eyes again. 

John had always been so careful about Hamish driving, making sure that he followed every rule, every law, and stayed safe. He could only remember bits and pieces of the accident, but he remembers speeding, and taking his eyes off the road. "I'm so sorry, Dad..."

[loyalbloggerwhowaits-deactivate]

...dad? Is that you?

"I didn’t think I had any children anymore."

[imnotmyfather]

"I'm sorry, dad, things just...got overwhelming. I meant to say something before I left, but there was so much going on..."

[whiskeyriflesanddogtags]

[ Off a bit early, and it wasn’t so terrible. I’ll be home in about ten minutes. I.need a shower and some coffee, but I will be online tonight. ]

[romanoba]

[weakx-deactivated20140811]

IF I EVER MAKE A TYPO, MINOR OR MAJOR, YOU HAVE FULL PERMISSION TO CORRECT THEM, IN FACT I ENCOURAGE YOU.

[imnotmyfather]

[[Leaving for work now. 8 hour shift ending at midnight, so I don't know if I'll be back on after or not. Tracker updated once more with the new thread.]]

[donotappalme-deactivated2017111]

"Your father would insist upon bonding, however I’ve other things in mind.” he admits, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling before offering a long sigh. “There’s been a murder suicide in Aberdeen, Scotland. I figure it could be sort of… family..” he waves his hand helplessly, searching for the right word. “…thing.”

[imnotmyfather]

Oh, that definitely caught his interest. He slides off his bed and to his feet with ease. "When are we leaving? Do I have time to pack anything?" Hardly waiting for an answer, Hamish grabs his school bag, dumping the contents on his bed and haphazardly shoving a change of clothes and his laptop in it.

[donotappalme-deactivated2017111]

  Sherlock clears his throat, rocking on his heels a bit before quirking a brow inquisitively. “Your father and I are going away this weekend.” he starts, hands folding together at the small of his back. “We were curious if you would like to join us.”

[imnotmyfather]

"I suppose that depends," is the hesitant response. Hamish sits up a bit, moving the laptop to the side. "Where is 'away' and is this going to be a normal trip, or another tense and awkward bonding situation?" There had been enough of those the previous summer, and if that were the case, Hamish would prefer spending the weekend alone. Even Unlce Mycroft was a more appealing option compared to bonding.

[imnotmyfather]

[[Tracker has been updated]]

[ageofultronn-blog]

Sir Ian McKellen is a gift

[king--mycroft-deactivated201407]

"Don’t tell your fathers."

[imnotmyfather]

"Of course not. They'd never let me around you, and then where would I get them from?"

[imnotmyfather]

D For Disappointment. Hamish|Sherlock

[cokenotcola]

"I see. And is there a reason you decided not to tell me earlier that you were having ‘a bad year’?" Sherlock was being condescending, he knew it. But he often got that way when his son resorted to sarcasm."A reason why you decided you’d rather sit in a stuffy classroom all summer relearning what we both know you already know?"

He sighed. “There really is no excuse for this, Hamish. What am I to do with you?”

[imnotmyfather]

"Must've slipped my mind." He slides is arms over his chest, silently telling Sherlock he wouldn't be cooperating for this. "And imagine all the trouble I could get in if I wasn't locked in school all summer. Maybe I'm just doing you a favor." Relaxing against the sofa, he slides down and sinks into the back. Might as well make this enjoyable since he couldn't get away.

[imnotmyfather]

[Wasted-Cartel] Hamish|John

[johnwwwatson]

John was right away taken to a hospital room and he frowned, but it soon grew once he actually got into the room and saw Hamish. Right away, John began to catalogue his injuries from what he could see. Bruises littered his body, there was machines all around and he was pretty sure at least one of Hamish’s arms were broken.

When the doctor took him aside, John further learned of all of Hamish’s injuries. Christ. That was the least amount of damage? He hated to see the others that were with Hamish. They were probably much worse. John could only nod numbly, silent as the doctor left, and he went over to Hamish’s bed, sitting by his bedside.

Almost right away, Hamish woke up and started to sit up, but John could see the panic growing. Right away, he stood up and pushed Hamish down, gentle but firm. “Hamish, it’s okay, you’re alright.” John assured him. “You’re at St. Bart’s, Hamish. It’s okay.”

[imnotmyfather]

The sight of John calms him down enough to relax against the bed. He takes a moment to look around the room. St. Barts? What happened? He was driving them all home and-

Images flash in his mind, the speedometer growing, Alex in the seat next to him, seeing the headlights coming at them, spinning. The panic is back again.

"Dad?" His voice is raspy. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Dad. I only looked away for a second, I-I didn't think-" Hamish shakes his head. "Where's Alex? Jamie? Is everyone else okay?"

[scruffyshezza]

"There's a wishing well in the stable yard.  They say it's twice as deep as Groby Tree is high, and you can drop a penny in it and make a wish."

[grumblygardensarchive]

✉ Text Messages ✉

[imnotmyfather]

∞ - For an altered state of mind text. (Drunk, drugged.) # - For an angry text. ♦ - For a rushed text. x - For a secret text. ♥ - For a regular text. * - For an early morning text. XD - For a “I wish you just saw that” text.

[imnotmyfather]

D For Disappointment. Hamish|Sherlock

[cokenotcola]

"I must say, I am disappointed." Sherlock said. "I know you can do better than this, Hamish." He inclined his head towards the sheets of paper. "Have you anything you’d like to say before I go on? Anything to defend yourself?" Sherlock hated to sound so harsh, so like his own father, but he wouldn’t have his son, whom he knew was brilliant, fall behind when he could so easily soar above the others.

[imnotmyfather]

There wasn't much to say that Sherlock wouldn't already know. Would it do him any good to say it out loud? And as for defending himself, it wasn't as if school was a challenge, or he wasn't getting the help he needed. The problem was he just didn't do anything. So instead of any sort of defense, Hamish resorts to sarcasm. "It was a bad year." A bad year indeed. A year of fighting with his father, late nights, sneaking out, and getting involved with the wrong crowd. And it was all for one simple reason - Sherlock didn't like it.