WHO: Roger and Leanne
WHAT: Moping
WHEN: Thursday night
WHERE: St. Mungo's

Brighton had a fever that wasn't breaking. Roger was freaking out. It was a low fever, the kid mostly wanted to sleep, but there was no way Roger was going to risk losing his son.

Brighton sat in his pajamas in the waiting room, looking pale and tired, but alive. He was staring horrified at someone with a toasting form stuck in their behind. "Did he put that there himself?"

"No," Roger said quietly. "I assume he sat on it, don't stare."