You wrote "Don't Forget"

Chapter 18 - My Most Beautiful Boy

The door opened with a loud squeak. A figure lay slumped on the white bed which was the main attraction of the entire room. Next to the bed was a very small nightstand currently occupied by a copy of Beowulf, the copy seemed old and well-loved. The right wall of the room was occupied by a television which was currently as black as a void. On the left side of the room, a wall let sunlight trickle in, slowly and efficiently.

The figure on the bed moved with some visible difficulty. After pressing a hand against the corners of the bed and using the support to sit down on the bed, the figure let out a series of gasps for breath. Finally, his breathing calmed down and his eyes peered towards the door.

"Tristan!" He breathed out, in a voice which one used to talk about surprise gifts. He clearly hadn't expected me to be here.

"Dad." I said, taking a step towards the bed. I had never seen my dad like this. He looked paler than he ever had. The skin around his eyes was somehow darker than the rest of him, the darkness of chasms and Tartarus itself couldn't compare to it. He looked fragile, as if my touch would break him. As if I was Midas, with my touch I could turn him into gold - no longer alive, stuck in a form and place he couldn't come back from.

I took another step towards him, the space between us at once seemed like it was stretching out for miles. It felt like even if I reached him, he would still slide far away from me. Like I would never be able to really reach him.

Finally, I did reach him, there was a small chair at his bedside, I sat down on it. His hand immediately found mine. He squeezed my hand with some desperation, as if he was checking whether I was real, whether I was really there.

"I missed you." He said, quietly. His eyes were as soft as his words and his body and the rest of him. The father this universe had carved for me from alabaster was absent. It had left in its wake something real, something soft and something human.

It would be a lie to say I missed him but it would also be a lie to say I didn't. I missed the man who used to be my father, not the inhuman machine I had been stuck with for the past few years. But right now, this withering flower of man seemed to be very very close to who my father used to be.

"I know." I whispered back, as if even using a normal voice would hurt him in some way. Even words had to be sewed together with care at this moment.

"I didn't expect you to come."

I felt a pang of guilt at this. I hadn't been his son for years just like he hadn't been my father for years. Of course he didn't expect this callous, unfeeling stranger he had raised to care for him even in his death. I held his hand a bit tighter, trying to communicate with actions that I couldn't say with words. I am sorry.

His eyes drifted off to Alejandro who stood awkwardly by the entrance, trying to give us some privacy and failing miserably. Dad's face was filled to the brim with curiosity as his eyebrows raised themselves in a single question - And who is that?

"Dad, this is Alejandro, my boyfriend." I said, gesturing towards Alejandro. Alejandro walked in through the door and they both shook hands.

"You seem like quite a charming young man. Tristan has always had good choices." His eyes met mine as he smiled. "I wish we could have met in better circumstances but so is life."

"Me too." Alejandro said. Then, there was a brief time period where no one knew what to say.

"I'll give you both some privacy. I'll be down the hall if you need me." Alejandro said, clearing his throat. He left the room and closed the door behind him.

There was a single question which stood suspended in the room, the sword of Damocles hanging above our heads.

"What do the doctors say?" I gulped.

His eyes lost their spark and his face was captured in a sad smile. "It's just as I told you, I have a couple of months or less. The end is inevitable."

So, it was going to happen. There was no way it could be stopped. Not again, not again-

I threw my hands around him and hugged him tightly. His eyes widened, taken aback by the suddenness of it all but he hugged me back nonetheless.

"Not you too." I said, in a voice which seemed volumes away from my current voice. It sounded like the voice of a child who was scared, a child who had witnessed this all before. My voice broke out in a sob which I had tried my best to control before.

"I can't afford to lose you too." And with that, I started crying. I didn't care that I soaking his clothes wet or that I still both loved him and hated him, love had won over hate anyway.

"Oh Tristan." He said, his voice just as frail and vulnerable as mine. "I don't want to leave you alone either. But I believe that you will do fine without me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"You've already been doing fine without me, son. You're my brightest, strongest, most beautiful boy. Tris, I believe in you more than I believe in myself." His hand reached the back of my head and he moved his hand through my hair just like he did when I was small.

"What if I don't want to? What if I don't want to be the one left behind?"

"Tris, sometimes what we have to do isn't in our hands. Sometimes life has other plans for us and we have to be strong enough to go along with those plans. Even after I'm done, there is so much here worth living for Tris. There are many people in this life you love more than me, there's Jane, the rest of our family and maybe even Alejandro. And there are so many people you'll meet and care for and love, who will love you back. Your life has just begun, kiddo." He smiled. "I've already lived mine. So, for me, for your mother, for both of us, you have to carry on and live through this life. When it's time for you to join us, you can join us later. You have to be strong enough and remember that your mother and I have high hopes for you and we know we made you enough."

I wanted to say it, because it felt like I'd never get to say it. So, finally with my voice tattered and withering and breaking, I whispered, "I love you, Dad. I love you so much."

His arms tightened around me. "I love you too, Tristan and I'm proud of you. I'm proud of the man you've become. Your mom would have been proud of you too."

Finally, after a few more moments of not wanting to let go, we finally let each other go. I turned my face away from him, dabbing my hands at my cheeks, trying to wipe the tears. He kindly looked away too, still smiling, content with everything just the way it was.