In My Time of Dying

Call Me......An Angel?

Dec rounded the corner into the next corridor only to find an empty hallway ahead of him.

"Where did you go, you bastard?" he growled, frustrated at the figure's perchance for disappearing acts.

Placing his hands on his hips, he turned in a circle as his eyes searched for the mysterious figure.

A cold breeze flew past him and a flash of colour in the corner of his eye quickly caught his attention. He sprinted in the direction of the disappearing flash of beige, keen not to let it out of his sight.

The thing led him all over the corridors of the hospital - through the palliative care ward (nice joke, Dec snorted), through the children's ward, and when they finally came to a stop after about ten minutes of running later, Dec was surprised to find himself outside the private chapel.

Frowning in confusion at the sign, he was about to wonder aloud what the hell the figure was playing at, when he heard the voice again.

"Come inside, Declan....." the familiarity of the voice sent shivers up Dec's spine, and he almost recoiled from the door in fear.

"Do not be afraid" the voice assured, sending a warm breeze over him.

Something clicked inside him then, and he took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

The inside of the chapel was surprisingly dark and empty, and Dec was almost convinced that he had been hearing things, when movement up near the altar caught his eye.

Squinting a little as the figure moved from the shadows into the light, he felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop open as their features became startlingly clear.

It was a face that he had memorised from a very young age, a face that he knew almost as well as he knew his own - having committed it to memory a few years ago, knowing he would never see it again.

Tears pricked at his eyes and his throat threatened to close over as the figure - now painfully recognisable - stepped fully into the light.

"Dad?" he asked, almost not believing what was in front of him as he edged minutely closer.

His father - for that is who it was - smiled tearfully at his youngest son and opened his arms in an inviting gesture.

Dec didn't hesitate - sprinting forward with a cry and leaping into his father's arms, tears rolling steadily down both their faces.

"I'm here, son. Hush now, it's alright: I've got you" Alphonse whispered comfortingly into his son's ear as he sobbed into his chest.

"Da, I've missed you so much" Dec cried, voice shuddering with emotion as he gripped the back of his father's pullover.

Alphonse tightened his arms around Dec's trembling shoulders, continuing to quietly hush him - the same way he'd used to when Dec had been a wee lad.

"I know. But I'm here now, it's alright" he murmured softly, pressing a kiss into Dec's hair.

The two men stood like that for some time, the only noise in the darkened chapel being Dec's quiet sobs and Alphonse continuing to whisper reassurances in his son's ear.

Eventually, Dec's cries had subsided, leaving him sniffling and with the occasional shuddering breath. Alphonse handed him a handkerchief - just like he always used to do - and that nearly set him off again. Luckily, his tears managed to hold themselves at bay as he pressed the oh-so-familiar fabric to his eyes.

"Better?" Alphonse asked, smiling kindly down at his son.

Dec nodded, before looking up at his father curiously.