𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

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A/N: Again, I'm going to STRESS this isn't historically accurate.

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"Dad, wake up."

"Mike, it's one in the morning. What do you need?"

"You need to take me to hospital. I did something stupid."

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When they arrived at the house, Paul thanked them and slowly walked in, his heart pounding.

I'm in trouble.

The first thing he saw when he walked in was his father sitting at the table. It's been so long since he saw him. He looked dead. He was pale, skinny, balding, and looked twenty years older. He looked scary.

"Take a seat, Paul." James' voice had no tone.

He did just that.

You look so much different.

Where's my dad?

James looked at Paul with his dead eyes, "I took Mike to hospital last night. He hurt himself. He cut himself, Paul. With this." He slid the same sliver blade to Macca.

I should've taken it away.

The dried-up blood.

I had the chance.

"While at hospital, he told me a lot of things. He told me not to tell you, so I'm gonna respect that. However, he did tell me to tell you that he's sorry about what happened at the school."

Hot tears swelled up in those hazel eyes.

"Mike's going to be ok, he's coming home tomorrow, but I'm upset with you, Paul. Why didn't you tell me? I'm your father."

"How could I?" Macca's tone came off very harsh. "You're always in your room. I hardly ever see you. You don't care."

"I do care. Ever heard of grieving?"

"Obviously! But I stopped grieving, and I think you should too."

James sat up to his full height. "Young man, everyone grieves differently. You may do it one way, but I do it my way. I lost my wife. I lost a best friend, a lover, and an angel all at once. I understand she's your mother, but she was also my wife."

"Mum wouldn't like seeing this. You aren't taking care of yourself nor us. I had to sacrifice two years of my youth to take care of everyone. I don't have a father anymore. I don't have a mother. I'm an orphan."

"You're getting me very upset, but I'm not going to yell. Paul, you do have a father. Your father is trying to cope, and I know I'm not doing a good job, but I don't know what I'm doing. You forget I'm human too."

Paul stood up, "You forget I'm only a teenager! I'm trying the best I can, but it's not good enough because Mike's in hospital! And I can't even go to you for comfort because you're shut down!"

"Paul, sit down."

"No!"

James stood up, towering over his son. Macca felt himself shrink, but he wasn't going to back down.

"Listen, please!" He raised his voice slightly, "I know I'm not a good father, but I still want to be in your lives. I care, and I understand that I'm not good, but I deserve to at least know something like this!" James picked up the blade and threw it on the floor. "What else have you been hiding from me?!"

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