Work Text:
The baby didn't cry, it breathed for only an hour. Horrific monstrous gasps. It's his fault. Whatever gave him the ability to will death, made his child that.
When his baby died the staff were grateful. He saw the relived looks in their eyes. They horrified by the idea such a child could live.
John had loved the baby. He had. When his child died the last bit of good in him died too. He saw that now.
Now all that was left was destruction and death, he'd unleash it all. That was his gift and curse, and the rest of humanity's too.