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."
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…"