The Fall of the Aftons

033: Michael Song

Michael stood at the side of the tall hospital bed, his eyes trained on Terrance's arm--the only part of him that he could see--as he waited for his cousin to wake up. The doctor had said that he'd wake up soon, yet Michael had stood there for over thirty minutes now. His legs were starting to hurt from not moving. He wanted to sit down, but if he did, he wouldn't be able to see any part of Terrance.

"This is the same room I was in after my house burnt down," William murmured amusedly as he scrutinized every little detail of the room. He elbowed Henry in the gut. Henry scowled at him, extremely annoyed. "Remember that?" He laughed when Henry crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, even more annoyed than he previously was. "I'm never going to let you cook in my house again."

"I highly doubt that," someone other than Henry replied. "You can't even make a simple soup without screwing it up, Uncle."

Michael looked back to Terrance. He was laughing softly, his voice cracking. His arm had moved out of Michael's view, so he stepped back to see his cousin's face. He watched as William strangle-hugged his nephew with a broad, flimsy smile on his face. Henry moved to his side and rested his hand over Terrance's. Michael wanted to show his cousin that he cared, too, but he didn't know how. He could barely even see him! The curses of being young, therefore being short. Very short.

"H-How do you feel, Terrance?" Michael asked quietly. "A-Are you feeling better?"

"What do you care, you little bastard?" Terrance replied harshly as he glared at Michael.

The cruel words knocked Mike back a step, but he kept his mouth shut. He knew that if he said anything, it would only make Terrance angrier.

"Terrance Oliver Afton!" William snapped as he stepped back from his nephew. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Terrance a look of warning and danger. "Don't talk to him like that!"

"Why not?! He got me run over by a bloody car!" Terrance snapped back. He was glaring at William now, his attention no longer on Michael.

Mike cautiously took a few more steps back as he blinked back tears. He didn't need to cry. He didn't need to cry. He didn't need to cry.

"Terr, you know that he didn't mean to," Henry joined in, his voice wary yet determined. "What happened was a complete accident."

"He nearly got me killed!" Terrance shouted as he pointed straight at Michael. "What would you have done if I had died? Would you still tell him that it wasn't his fault, even though it is?"

"Yes, actually, I would!" William shouted back. "It wasn't his fault, Terrance!"

"But it was his fault!"

Each word that came from Terrance's mouth was a dagger that penetrated Michael's sensitive, recovering heart. The tears he'd been trying to hold started to spill against his will. Unexpectedly, he made a choked-off noise, some kind of throaty groan that was a mix between a whimper, a whine, and a sob. Everybody's judging eyes turned to him. Nobody's expression was the same. Henry looked pitiful. William looked nervous and surprised. Terrance, unsurprisingly, looked livid.

"Michael, wait!" William called when Michael sprinted out of the room, sobbing much against his body's control. He ran and ran, but suddenly skidded to a stop when he discovered the same room his birthfather stayed in before he'd passed away. A nurse walked out of the room--which was currently occupied by another patient--and caught Michael staring at the previously closed door.

"Can I help you?" she asked sweetly with a small, sad smile.

Michael shook his head so fast that it hurt his neck, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and ran off again. The tears came right back and fell from his eyes, even though he didn't want to cry anymore. He just couldn't stop, and that was only making him more and more upset.

He ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. He ran until his legs felt like they were turning into lead. But he continued to sprint through the hospital corridors until he finally came across the room that he was looking for. The empty janitorial supply closet, the same one he had hidden in many times when his father had been in the hospital. He gently grabbed the handle and checked the door. Thankfully, it was unlocked, just as it was when the year before. He went inside the small room, closed the heavy door behind him, grabbed the flashlight from the shelf next to the door, and switched its bright light on. With the flashlight pointed at the roof, the tiny closet illuminated. He quickly found the towels he'd taken from his home and had laid down to keep himself comfortable. Everything was so familiar to him. It was comforting. Everything was the same as he'd left it. No changes, other than dust that settled atop the shelves and towels over time.

Well, when he thought about it, there were no changes except one crucial one.

This time, he wasn't going to be found soon. Especially not by Khael or Aster. 

Right there, Michael broke down. The dam keeping his emotions under control was crushed under the pressure and a huge tidal wave fell over him. He haphazardly dropped himself on top of the soft towels and cried. His previous guilt returned, and newer guilt from today's events threatened to crush him. But the weight of it all was slightly relieved by the release. His quiet crying turned into weeping. His weeping turned into sobbing. His sobbing continued on and on. It felt like hours had passed as he sobbed like a baby who was handed away from its parents. 

Eventually, he cried himself to sleep on the soft, familiar towels.