Sliding glass doors cleared his way and he stepped into the hospital lobby. The smell was revolting but he kept walking forward. He never liked the smell of hospitals. He was in them all the time when he was little - courtesy of his father.
Well, he guess he couldn't call him his father anymore.
The front desk attendee gives him Taejeon's hospital room number after signing in. Coughing and hacking, cries and pleads - it was every where, and Taehyung couldn't get to the elevator fast enough.
Once the elevator doors close he exhales and leans against the railing. A million thoughts consumed him, but they all resulted in one, broken heart.
The doors open slowly and he emerges onto the third floor. Fingers shook inside his coat pockets nervously. He was suddenly very interested in the tile pattern on the spotless floor, making sure not to make any noise with the friction of his shoe against it.
By the time he reached Taejeon's room, he had counted fifty-seven tiles. He attempted to find some significance in the number, but he knew that he was only stalling and the number fifty-seven had no real significance at this moment.
The heart monitor sound was so familiar that it made his heart ache. He stood in the door frame, almost frozen and his eyes trained downward. On the drive here, he had planned to make a big scene, or maybe even waltz in coolly and tell Taejeon he knew all along. But now that he was here, he couldn't bring himself to do any of those things. He couldn't do anything.
"Taehyung." A voice croaks. Taehyung takes a shaky breath and finally raises his head. The sight of Taejeon's state made it hard to swallow.
The healthy, cheery Taejeon that he always knew wasn't sitting in front of him. It was like a stranger had taken his identity and sat there instead. Skin hung off his bones like a sickly grey looking leather, his dull eyes sunken in and creases and wrinkles lined into his face. Patches of his hair were missing from his head, even, and Taehyung chokes down a sob.
"My son..." Taejeon greets, his voice raspy and exhausted. His smile was still the same, however, when he offered him a small one. Taehyung drops his bag and runs over to the side of the hospital bed.
"D-Dad." He cries and embraces him, weaving his arms through the tubes and IV drips. Tears stain his father's hospital gown, but it was too late to hold back the tears. Taejeon's body began to jolt slightly as he cried as well, patting his son's back soothingly.
"What's wrong with-- y-you told me it was just a cold." Taehyung sniffs as he pulls back from the hug. The creases around Taejeon's eyes softened and he taps his chest.
"Stage 4 of lung cancer... that's what the doctor's tell me."
Taehyung buries his head in his hands. His body shudders violently as he lets out loud sobs and wails, not knowing how to control his swell of emotions. He felt Taejeon's eyes watching him and he looks up at him.
"Your mother always told me to stay away from those cigarettes." His dad chuckles lightly, sadness gleaming in his eyes as he peers down at the IV drip inside him. "She was right. She was so smart and kind.."
"She's not my mother." Taehyung says bitterly, wiping the tear traveling down his right cheek. His dad sighs and holds his hand tightly.
"Mariana called me." Taehyung flinches at his 'fake' mother's real name. "She told me you found out that you were... adopted."
"Why?" The younger asks bluntly, meeting his eyes. "Why did you give me away?"
Silence.
"You gave me to him. You gave me up... to him." Taehyung whispers hoarsely. "All those years I went to visit his grave, when I really should've been visiting you."
