Sunday Mornings

Richie

Richie

Richie had fallen asleep quickly but woke with every noise he heard. He lay beside Jon watching him sleep as he mumbled in his sleep and snoring softly. He laid his hand over Jon's and softly stroked the skin beneath his thumb.

He reached out and gently traced Jon's bottom lip and smiled fondly when his tongue darted out to rid himself of the annoyance. He was tempted to do it again but given Jon's usual reaction to being woken unexpectedly, he decided against it.

He lay there for what seemed like hours as his mind drifted like a feather in the wind, never able to settle on one thing, until he couldn't take it anymore. He rose from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats; his or Jon's, he wasn't sure. Grabbing a throw from the bottom of the bed and draping it around his shoulders, he slipped from the bedroom and padded into the bathroom to pee.

He wandered the almost silent house, stopping in the kitchen for a glass of water before walking quietly up the stairs. He stopped outside his parents' bedroom, remember the countless times he'd done the same thing as a child when he'd been woken from a nightmare. He opened the door quietly but didn't go in. He just stood there for a long moment before deciding to sit against the wall opposite the door.

He listened to his mother softly snoring and the hiss of the machine pumping life-giving oxygen into his father.

He'd managed to talk to his mom more in-depth about what she'd been dealing with as his dad's health had declined rapidly after the cancer had spread suddenly; changing bedpans and catheter bags, administering pain relief through his IV lines, bed baths and not to mention having to deal with his anger as he railed at the injustice of it all.

He had found a new admiration for her and could see why Jon had said that she had scared him.

"Everything okay, Mookie," Jon whispered and slid down the wall beside him.

"Hmm," Richie nodded and opened the throw as Jon snuggled into his side, "Couldn't sleep. Why are you here? You should be asleep."

"You left over half an hour ago," he replied, "I waited for you to come back but you didn't."

"Sorry, Cowboy," he said and kissed the top of Jon's head, "I thought you were asleep." He hauled Jon up closer to him as they sat in silence for a moment. "You don't have to sit here with me," he said.

"I know," Jon said, "Whatever happens."

Jon fell asleep against Richie's side as he, himself, drifted in and out of a light doze.

The sound of laboured breathing and harsh coughing woke Richie out of his sleep. He was dazed and confused as to where he was until another raspy inhale of breath came from within his parents' room.

"Shhh, sweetheart." Joan's soft words filtered through to him, "I'm right here, Adam."

"Joanie."

Richie came to full consciousness within seconds and extricated himself from Jon.

"Mom?" he said before entering the room. Jon roused himself, confused after being suddenly woken. Adam's coughing and wheezing became more frequent and pronounced.

"Richard?!" she said, "What are you doing out there? You scared me!" Joan was kneeling beside Adam in her nightgown as she struggled to rearrange pillows to elevate Adam's head a little.

"I'm sorry," he said, "We fell asleep out there. Is dad okay?"

"The medication is wearing off," she replied, "Turn on that lamp, will you, please?"

Richie pressed the small button and the room filled with a soft glow. His father looked worse as his mouth gaped with the effort of breathing.

"Adam, sweetheart," Joan said as she and Richie positioned his father onto a mound of pillows, "Adam...," Joan said as he struggled to open his eyes, "Richard is here, sweetheart. He came home early to see you."

Adam's pale, watery eyes slowly moved from his wife's face to his son's.

"Hey, dad," Richie smiled when Adam was looking at him even if it was slightly unfocused, "I made it back."

Adam raised an unsteady hand and reached out to Richie who took the hand between his own. Richie was shocked at the strength in which Adam grasped his hand. He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of his father's hand.

With his other hand, Adam swiped at the oxygen mask until he got his message across and Joan removed it. Mimicking Richie's movement, he drew their hands to his face and rubbed his cheek against them, a tear tracking down his almost translucent cheek.

"Richard," he breathed, barely a noise came from him apart from the death-rattle emanating from his chest. "S-sorry. Love y-you. So...proud...of you."

"I love you too, dad," Richie choked out, "Don't be sorry. It's okay...it's okay. Take it easy, please, don't tire yourself."

"Jon?" Adam asked.

"He's here," Richie looked over his shoulder to Jon hanging around in the doorway. He indicated to him to move closer before turning his gaze back to his dad. He felt Jon move up behind him, his warmth seeping through his back.

"Hey there," Jon said softly to Adam, his head resting on Richie's shoulder.

Adam smiled weakly and mouthed 'thank you' to him and Richie felt Jon's fingers curl into his side as he released a shuddery sigh.

Adam was caught in a paroxysm of coughing just then. Richie helped him sit up, holding him upright against his own body as the coughing started to calm. The cough was thick and wet and had left Adam breathless with bloody flecks of spit over his lips and chin.

"Sweetheart?" Joan said, "Do you need your painkillers?" She wiped his mouth and caressed his face lovingly after Adam had laid back down.

Adam shook his head weakly as Jon passed a glass of water to Richie.

"You probably should, dad," Richie agreed, holding the glass and paper straw for Adam to take a sip from.

"No!" he said as strongly as he could. "Too late. No doctors. No more."

Joan gasped quietly from where she sat, the tears had started to fall freely down her face.

"Dad! Don't say that," Richie pleaded, "You just need to rest now." Jon's hold tightened on him for which he was thankful for. It stopped him from feeling as though he was about to shatter.

Adam's eyes drifted around his family, occasionally rolling back before refocusing on something just off in the distance, nodding in agreeance with some spectral being only he could see.

"Joanie," he breathed heavily, struggling with every breath, "My love. My everything. I will miss you...more than you know. I will wait for you."

"Oh sweetheart...," Joan cried as she held his other hand, "I love you too. It's okay, sweetheart. I understand." She leant down and kissed him sweetly, taking a moment. Words were so unnecessary in this instance as their hearts spoke for them.

Richie's emotions bubbled through him as he watched his parents ultimately say goodbye to each other after more than 30 years together and he thought his dad had fallen asleep with his mom's face pressed as close as could be but at that moment Adam turned his head to look at both boys and smiled weakly.

Jon kissed his temple after he'd sighed with relief, and whispered into his ear, "I'm right here, Mookie."

"My Richard," Adam said.

"Dad," his voice came out strangled, "you need to rest."

"Time for rest soon," he replied, "Need to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"How sorry I am," Adam drew in a shaky breath, "for hurting you for those years...and now." Every second or third word was punctuated with a gasping breath.

"Dad...shhh," Richie wept, "It's okay, it doesn't matter now. I forgive you...I forgive you." He held Adam's hand over his heart and placed his own on his dad's.

"So happy you have Jon," his words were becoming weaker, "Look after each other. If you marry, I'll be there. Open your heart. You'll know."

"Jon, look after him?"

Jon sniffed and nodded. He placed his hand over Richie's on Adam's chest and said, "I will, I promise."

"Both good boys. So proud." His eyes fluttered as Adam's energy was sapped, "Joanie...."

"I'm here, sweetheart," she said tearfully, "I'm not going anywhere. Do you want something for the pain?"

Adam shook his head slowly as the rattle in his chest became louder and his breathing shallowed out. "No...more. Too late."

Jon stood from behind Richie and placed the oxygen mask back over the older man's face as his eyes closed in exhaustion. Jon moved back to Richie and stood beside him, drawing his head against his chest.

And so the three watched as Adam fought for every breath, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. Jon fetched coffee for them all and offered to call the doctor.

Dr Fredricks arrived on his way to his office. He examined Adam quietly and with a heavy sigh, packed up his stethoscope into his bag.

"I'm sorry...I wish I could give you some good news," the doctor said, "but I'm afraid it's only a matter of time now. Did you administer any of the morphine I left yesterday?"

"No," Joan said, "He didn't want it. It's still in the locked box in the dresser drawer."

"Hmm," Dr Fredricks nodded, "Keep it handy. I would strongly suggest that if Adam starts to struggle with his breathing any worse than he already is, then you may need to give him the lighter dose just to keep him pain-free."

He paused for a moment to let that sink in then continued, "Call any family you need to, Joan, and I would do it today. I'll come back when I can but call me if you think Adam needs me."

Joan mumbled her thanks as the doctor left as she climbed into the bed to lie down with her ailing husband.

"Mom?" he asked softly, "Can I do anything for you?"

He waited for an answer but his mother seemed to have shut down in the aftermath of Dr Fredricks' visit, so he took it upon himself to ring his aunts and uncle and the family priest.

When the last hard phone call had been made, he grabbed his jacket and went outside. He walked around the small backyard in the weak morning sun, tapping a cigarette out of the pack and lit it as he absorbed the life around him.

He had almost finished his smoke when Jon came out of the back door, "There you are!"

"Hey...just needed some time," he replied as he stubbed out the cigarette, "before all the madness descends." He walked over to Jon who was standing just outside the door on the steps. He bent his head against Jon's chest, taking advantage of the height difference, as their arms entwined around each other.

Jon kissed the top of his head and asked quietly, "Anything I can do for you, Rich?"

"Apart from ridding the world of cancer?" he sighed and shook his head, "You're doing it, babe." He tipped his face up to Jon's as they shared a kiss, "Just being here is helping."

They stood, holding each other for a long moment until Jon asked, "When was the last time you showered?"

"Back in LA before that last gig. Why? Do I stink?" Richie chuckled and looked up.

"Hmm kinda," he smirked, "Why don't we go have a quick shower before your family gets here? We can throw some laundry on too."

"My domesticated kitty," Richie said, punctuating it with a kiss.

"I could go back to our place later and get clean clothes."

"When we go home," Richie reached for the door handle and ushered Jon inside, "I won't want to leave for a week so shower and doing laundry here sounds good to me."

After their showers, Richie wandered into the living room still towelling his hair dry. He threw the towel on the floor and sat heavily on the couch, dropping his head to the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

"Laundry is..oh," Jon stopped talking, thinking that Richie was asleep.

"I'm awake," he rolled his head toward Jon as he spoke. He held up his hand and motioned him over, "I always said you looked good in my clothes, sweetheart. But even better out of them, though. Get your sweet ass over here."

Richie pulled Jon onto his lap with a small oof. Jon grinned and snaked an arm around Richie's neck as he snuggled closer. Richie linked his fingers with Jon's as they cuddled in silence.

"I'm so glad you're here, Cowboy," Richie murmured, "I hope you know how much I love you."

"I do," Jon said, "and I love you just as much." He leaned down slightly and placed his lips against Richie's.

Richie sighed into the kiss, savouring Jon's taste on his lips and tongue. They sat kissing softly for a long while, taking comfort in each other but still ever vigilant of what was going on around them.

Jon broke their lips apart when a car door slamming outside, drew their attention.

"Want me to get the door?" Jon asked. He started to push off from where he was sitting until Richie tightened his arm around Jon's waist.

"Nah," he said, "It's probably the family. Loretta said she has a key so she can let them all in." Just as he finished saying that the unmistakable sound of a key in a lock could be heard and the door swung open, casting the gloomy living room into daylight.

"Hello?! Joanie? Richard?" Richie's aunt, Loretta, called out. "Oh! Oops!" she said and covered her eyes with her hands after seeing her nephew on the couch, "We're not interrupting, are we?"

"No, Aunt Loretta, c'mon in," Richie called out as Jon shifted from his lap as his two other aunts, Sophie and Stella, and his Uncle Edward came through the door laden with grocery bags.

Both he and Jon stood and took the bags from them before submitting to their tearful greetings.

"Oh sweetheart," his aunt Sophie cried, "How are you holding up? How is Adam?"

"Dad had some clarity early this morning but lost consciousness not long after he'd said his piece," Richie filled his aunts in.

"Where is Joan," Stella asked then turned to her brother, "Eddie, be a dear and help Jon with the groceries."

"Such a bossy brat," Edward grumbled good-naturedly as he led the way into the kitchen.

"Mom is upstairs," Richie said, "She hasn't left dad's side since Doc Fredricks left."

"What did Ralph say exactly?"

"That it's a matter of time; hours...hence me calling you all."

The three sisters looked sadly at each other as Edward came back into the living room.

"You want me to go get mom?"

"No, we'll just go on up," Loretta said, "You two can carry on whatever you were doing when we came in."

Adam's sisters took over. They encouraged Joan to shower and dress and they fixed her hair and makeup as Edward sat with his brother.

Taking turns in sitting with Adam throughout the day, the women did what they did best; started to cook. They made casseroles and pasta dishes to last for days, setting aside enough to load up the freezer so that Joan didn't need to cook for a while.

The Sambora house took on more of a homely feel again, chasing away the deathly pall that had insidiously invaded the once lively house. It still tried, reminding them it was there with every harsh cough from upstairs.

"Richie? Jon?" Stella called, "Come and eat, boys. There's plenty to choose from before we bundle it all up."

"Thanks, Aunt Stella," Richie said as he stood and hauled Jon up with him. "If we don't go and eat something, she'll set the others onto us," he said under his breath.

"You think I'm gonna argue?" Jon replied with a chuckle, "I'm surrounded by Samboras. I'm feeling a little outnumbered."

Over the meal, his aunts peppered Richie with questions about his time on the road and the bar. Joan had refused to leave her husband's side to eat so Loretta took a bowl of soup up to her when it was her turn to sit with them. They'd taken upon themselves to alternate sitting with Joan and Adam as his condition worsened.

Edward returned to the kitchen and stood in the doorway with a weary sigh.

"How is he doing, Eddie?" Sophie asked.

Adam's brother looked around at the expectant faces and shook his head sadly, "I wish Joanie would give him some pain relief. He's struggling badly."

"He didn't want it, Uncle Eddie," Richie replied, "He was very sure about that. Mom won't go against his wishes."

Adam had been drifting in and out of consciousness but not to the level of being able to hold a conversation; they were only fleeting seconds of time. Each of his relatives had tried to convince Joan to administer the morphine but she held true to her husband's request.

"And I don't like seeing my brother in agony," Eddie snapped back. "One dose would take all that pain away!"

Richie's stomach turned ominously at his uncle's words and threatened to purge the contents. He balled up the paper napkin and tossed it onto the table. His chair scraped angrily along the floor as he stood and left the room, giving his uncle a baleful look as he passed by.

He took the stairs up to his parent's bedroom, two at a time and stalked the hallway outside trying to calm down before he went inside.

He pushed open the door and saw that his mother was still lying beside Adam. The only difference from earlier was that she was fully dressed and made up. Loretta was sitting on the opposite side. She glanced over to him and Richie could see the sadness and defeat in her eyes.

He entered the room and went to his mother's side, "Mom?"

Joan rolled her head toward him. Richie could see that it took a little while for her to register who it was but when it did, Joan started to sit up.

Richie helped her upright and held her small frame steady until she could sit on her own. "Mom, can I get you anything?" he asked as he knelt down in front of her.

Joan sighed sadly and brushed a loving hand over his long hair. "It'll be over soon, sweetheart. I think you need to call Reverend Burrows." Joan looked back over her shoulder.

It was then that Richie realised how shallow and erratic his father's breathing had become. His mother turned away from him again to curl up against Adam.

Richie looked over at his aunt, who nodded. He rose and kissed his mother's cheek. He made it back into the hallway before he leaned heavily against the wall and scrubbed his hand over his face.

"Rich? Baby, is everything okay?" Jon asked from the landing when he saw his fiancé. He raced up the remaining stairs to Richie's side.

Richie felt drawn into Jon's arms and he melted into the embrace. "Just hold me a minute," he whispered hoarsely. Jon tightened his hold and they stood there until Richie had calmed.

"What's going on?" Jon asked softly.

Richie stepped back a little, "Mom said it's time to call Reverend Burrows in."

"Oh!"

Richie nodded, making for the stairs when Jon stopped him.

"I'll do it, Mookie," Jon said, "you go sit with your mom and dad. I'll send the others up too."

"I love you, Jonny," Richie said softly, "Never leave me."

"Never, I love you too much."