slipping through my fingers (mokranis)

he was not home. it was the first thought that crossed his mind as he came back to himself. this was most definitely not his bed, and it did not smell at all like his home. it smelled… clearly like an hospital. what ? why would he even be in a hospital ? his brain was foggy, and he could feel that he was still tired, though he felt like he had just slept for several long hours. how weird was that ? okay, one thing at a time. why was he here ? it took him some time, but it came back. right, he had no slept last night, because he had been an idiot and had forgotten his essay. and then, he had to go and meet his father for the morning run and they had planned and then…. then it was kind of black. ah. yes. exhaustion. it seemed like his body did have a limit after all. and apparently, racing was one of those. shit. racing. emil. he must have worry him to death, passing out on him. and his mother…

the thought made him open his eyes, landing on a white ceiling and artificial lights dimmed a bit. he blinked, and he grimaced, turning his eyes away. still too much light for his poor eyes, closed for a long time it seemed. what time was it ? was it even the same day ? it had been almost dark when he had met with emil, and right now it seemed to be more light outside, but with the curtains closed he was having some trouble identifying. the eyes moved. moved and found his mother asleep in a very uncomfortable position, on a chair right by his side. his heart felt heavy with guilt and concern. he should have been more careful. should have thought about her, and not just himself, and his idea of piling himself under so much work and study that he could stop thinking and hurting. she must have been so worried to see him here…to simply learn he was here. emil must have called her. for a brief second, he wonders where he is, looks around the room. but then it comes back, the obviousness of his absence, considering. he should probably call him, tell him he was okay. but, first and foremost, he had to reassure the worried mother right here. in his foggy memories, he does remembers waking up a few times, and her presence, but he can’t recall much. he was still probably half asleep during these times.

this time he is not though. so, he sits up slowly, making sure to not move too quickly and get black spots in his vision. then he takes the time to drink a bit of the water on the bedside table — he hates the feeling of parched mouth. finally, his hand slip into hers — it seemed that the fingers have left his when she feel asleep — and pressed down gently. his other hand comes to rest on her knee. “mom ?” he asks gently, ready to repeat it as long as needed until she comes back to her senses. “hey,” he says softly, smiling gently at her, and his fingers press a bit more against hers. “you should have slept at home. it’s not really comfortable, here.” he looks at her for a moment, feels some air brushing against his bare back — why on earth is he dressed in a hospital gown ? his smile falters after a few seconds, and guilt comes rushing back in his eyes. “i’m sorry mom, i didn’t… i didn’t mean for it to be that bad.”

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sign@doom days

Since they let her in, she has barely moved. There have been a few occasions, when they needed to examine him, to run some tests where she has been asked to leave the room. Yet never would she wander too far. She has called Ren to inform school that she would not be here for some time - as long as needed, she does not really care. Reassured her as she could and promised she would let her know when visits are allowed. Family only for now. They jokes about her pretending to be her spouse - but this only made her chuckle, some memories creeping back. She shushed them away. They offered her water, food, but it took several hours - and one brief instant where Seeley moaned for her to accept anything. Never has she felt lonely in her existence, the lone wolf, the proud lioness, but as she held on to her unconscious son’s hand, Merlin did she. But the healers told her he would be alright. And she did send him a brief message to let him know what they said. Nothing much, no loving word, just facts a reporter like her knows how to put to be concise yet precise. And the waiting continued. They tried to tell her to go home. The look that earned them made them back off. And after hours of silent prayers to all the gods she encountered in her numerous trips, she drifted off, in this chair, next to his bed, fingers intertwined with his. A dreamless sleep punctated by numerous semi-conscious moments, checking he is still breathing, still here. Until...

“mom ?” The call tugs to her. She is deeply asleep right now, but this could have woken up from the breath of death. Thus after a few seconds, her eyes open. To see him looking at her, to feel his warm palm in hers. “hey.” “seeley...” “you should have slept at home. it’s not really comfortable, here.” She cannot speak. Because the sorrow, because the worry, because the pain should be lifted by his simple presence. But they are not, they still weighs on her soul, on her heart. “i’m sorry mom, i didn’t… i didn’t mean for it to be that bad.” Her lips part to scold him, to tell him not to apologize, to tell her she is the one who should be sorry. But it is a sob that comes out. And then she leaves the seat, to wrap her arms around him. To kiss his cheek, before letting her face slide in his neck, to feel his heart beating against her, to perceive the smell of her baby, she rocks slowly, as she cries, she finally cries her eyes and her heart out. Relief overflows, and she cannot keep it to herself. “you’re alive,” is all she can mutter for some times, with other nonsense, his first name, “my baby,” words in both their native languages, “i love you so much.” She cannot control herself. Not for a few minutes, not before her being is fully reassured, that he will be alright, that he is here, that he won’t drop once again. It is not her, this reaction. But then again, never has she thought that she could actually lose him. And now she knows. Now she knows that if it was to happen, nothing could ever ease the crushing weight of his absence. But he does not need to be aware of that, as she realizes as calm comes back, gradually. As the mother’s soul is soothed by the contact. And finally, she gathers herself enough to detach from him, to look him in the eyes: “don’t apologize. just tell me how it happened. how i missed this.” And she pinches her lips as she lets out a sigh: “how… i am so sorry baby.” Because this is her fault. They are supposed to know each other better than anyone else. It feels as if she has been to caught up on her own life - in Ems, the only new element of her existence - to notice. To pay enough attention. And this feels terrible. And she blames herself non-stop since then - since she enters the room. Since he felt miles away. Since she could focus on the only thing that should matter - her son’s well-being. “i should have known.”

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sign@doom days

he expects the scolding. there is always one, when he apologizes for things she does not deem him responsible of. they often do not agree on the matter, seeley’s tendencies to self-blame being quite developed. he is also aware of this tendency, so he usually lets it slide when she argues against him about his responsibility, because deep down he knows she it right. and for him to apologize for being here, it is obvious she should tell him that it’s nonsense. except she doesn’t. except it’s not words that escape her, but sobs, but tears, and he did not think his heart could break more than it already is, and yet it happens. “please don’t cry”, he murmurs as she comes to hug him. he encircles her with his arm right back, and holds on as hard as she does, suddenly desperate to take the pain away, guilt rising up in his chest. this she couldn’t argue with. she is crying because of him, and he hates himself for it. “you’re alive,” “of course i am.” words leave his lips swiftly, and at no time does he think to make slightly fun of her for making a big deal out of this. he will try to tone it down later. not right now. he understands, how worried she must have been. at least he tries his best to. it was obvious to him it was just exhaustion and he needed sleep, but not to her. it could have been something. it could have been worse than him being reckless and stupid with his health. and just for her that cries in his arms, he vows silently to make efforts about that. he can’t do this to her a second time.

he holds her as long as she needs too — and he does too — and reassures her with kind words through all of it, heart clenched at the tone of her voice. he is not willing to let her go when she finally separates herself from him, but he lets her. at least, he can brush the tears of her cheeks. “don’t apologize. just tell me how it happened. how i missed this.” and how it hurts, to hear the guilt in her voice, the guilt in her eyes. “mom, no…” he tugs at her hand, shifts to make her sit with him more fully on the bed. “how… i am so sorry baby.” “it’s not your fault,” he won’t let her take the blame for that. he is not a child. he knew what he was doing. he just thought he was superior to biology itself, thought he could go on like that without breaking anything. “i should have known.” “no i should have known, you have nothing to blame yourself for.” she wasn’t in his head, she couldn’t know, couldn’t imagine. and as much as they were close, he also knew her perfectly well, and how to hide some things. not worrying her has always been one of the top priorities, he figured he had become at least a little bit good at it. “i fucked up, okay ? not you. i thought i knew what i was doing but… well, i thought wrong.” he sighs, lowers his gaze. “this last week has been… difficult.” quite difficult. and busy. and tiring. but exactly what he had been looking for. “i avoided sleep, on purpose, because i couldn’t… i just didn’t want to fall asleep. nor to give the ability to mind to just… think.” he had been running away from it, heart filled with fear of what happened now a week ago. “i had actually planned to sleep last night but i had forgotten about a deadline and, well… everyone has limits.” he does not mention emil. he feels like this would look bad, and he truly does not wish to put this on him. it was his own idea, after all. he should have known better and not be his stubborn self.

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sign@doom days

He look exhausted and the mother’s eyes cannot let go off his face, noting every line that should not be here, as the skin bears marks of tiredness, as to engrave them in her memory, to teach her a lesson. To be more careful. To pay more attention. The great freedom she gives her son as always been something natural. But she would have thought he would never put himself in danger this way. Even though he is alive. “of course i am.” Part of her wants to lash at him, to scold him for the lightness of his tone - all relative. He is a kid, her kid and this is on her, no matter what he says. “it’s not your fault.” Of course it is. It is for not properly sitting with him last year, when he had to drop out of his double cursus. For not completing a timetable together, to see what was reasonable and what was not. Because she trusts him, because she treats him like an adult. Yet he seemed so fragile, on this bed, a few hours ago, when there was nothing of him left, nothing but this empty shell that had her going sick. “no i should have known, you have nothing to blame yourself for.” Of course she does. Mother and son are as stubborn as it gets. But she won’t say more on the subject. Because they both know that would not end and he needs to rest, not to argue about her guilt. But Avery knows what happened now - and that won’t, ever again. He is her priority, always has been. And until it is certain he is better and things are back to an healthy normal, this will stay this way. Period. And even if her heart shrinks at the idea, it is the only decision that makes sense right now. And he did say you shouldn’t talk until the full moon. It does not matter. None of this does.

“i fucked up, okay ? not you. i thought i knew what i was doing but… well, i thought wrong.” The understatement would have made her chuckle, on any other day. But now that she is next to him on the bed, the only thing she does is grabbing his hand. “this last week has been… difficult.” And squeezing it gently. “i avoided sleep, on purpose, because i couldn’t… i just didn’t want to fall asleep. nor to give the ability to mind to just… think.” “you should have told me baby, we have potions for this.” Even if their stock ran low at some point, she would have gotten more to help him sleep without a single dream. Anything but not rest. “i had actually planned to sleep last night but i had forgotten about a deadline and, well… everyone has limits.” “and yet you went running yesterday morning.” There is no anger, no reproach in the tone - and she really does not want to blame this on Emil, but truth is the secret is one more element Seeley has to cope with. Of course it is not his fault, but it does have an impact they both neglected. “Seeley.... you have to promise me it won’t happen again.” And her still red eyes find his, deadly serious. “We will review your options list, your extra curricular, but you cannot go on like this.” The tone is firm and won’t suffer ‘no’ for an answer. “I know those past weeks have been challenging, for you, for us. But nothing should ever come before your wellbeing and health.” How strong she wishes to appear in this instant. The rock he could always rely on. “We should be able to tell each other everything.” And I thought I lost you because I didn’t, and then because you didn’t. Please baby, it cannot happen. Not again. Not ever “So next time please come to me.” And even though the gaze is unwavering, the voice vibrates too much to hide the emotions she tries and push back.

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sign@doom days

how he regrets it in this instant, to have been so cocky, so certain of himself. he had been selfish, only thinking of himself, not of the consequences, of who else it might impact. and here is the embodiment of that selfishness — and he knows she is not the only one worried. but in many ways, it is the worst for him. and he wants to explain to her, to reassure her it’s not her fault. but at the same time, he can’t, not completely. because if he does, he will need to speak of the desire to do better, to shine as bright as possible, of that deep need to deserve the affection she gives and the pride in her eyes, and of course she will think this is her fault and there is no way in hell he is letting it happen. at least, not more than what she is already feeling falsely at fault for. his hand presses hers, holds on to her like a lifeline, and it’s as much for her as for himself. maybe he had forgotten, for some weird reasons. had forgotten that he could just hold on to her when he needed to. “you should have told me baby, we have potions for this.” he sighs softly. “i know…” and there is nothing else he can say about this, because yes he knows, and he had contemplate using them. he had decided against it because he thought that if he did use them, he would never get away from them, could never properly grieve the relationship that maybe never was. and he also knows of the possible side effect of sleepiness after regular utilisation, the possible addiction, and he was not willing to risk it. “and yet you went running yesterday morning.” eyes that find the sheets as he grimaces, even if it’s not an accusation. he knows this was a mistake too, but again he can’t exactly tell her how he feels about skipping something with emil, of fearing to be bothering by cancelling last minute and disturbing his father’s busy schedule. and he feels good when he is with him, so it helps these days.

[color:e6ed=#goldenrod]“seeley.... you have to promise me it won’t happen again.” he looks back at her. “we will review your options list, your extra curricular, but you cannot go on like this.” he does not want to. yet he does not want to change everything either, he know he can do it. he just fucked up a bit, but he will get better at it. failing the double curriculum had been enough of a strain, of a deep blow in his personal pride and belief in his own abilities. it won’t happen again. but for now he remains quite, for he knows it is not his turn to speak. “i know those past weeks have been challenging, for you, for us. but nothing should ever come before your wellbeing and health.” he just nods slightly, as he knows she is right, but it is difficult to admit it and then fight to not change anything. “we should be able to tell each other everything.” and he believes that too, except there are some things he just can’t tell her. but it’s not really important. “so next time please come to me.” yes, he had forgotten that he could rely on the mother figure as much as he needed. or maybe he hadn’t, but knows she is already dealing with a lot and tries to keep the burden on him as much as possible. he is not a kid anymore, he can handle it. he sighs. maybe he does handle it as well as he thought, it’s true. “i know i can talk to you. i guess i just did not want to worry you too much.” there is a sad chuckle. “it kinda backfired, i have to admit.” he gives her a smile full of apology, but it quickly disappears. “i’ll be more careful. there will be no next time, i promise.” and if he felt like there would be one, he would handle it. he would, no matter what. “i…” he exhales loudly, and hates to already be compromising, but he also knows he has no choice. “i will slow down, okay ? take less shifts at the shelter, and less options.” he looks at their hands intertwined, and his thumb runs along her skin. “i think i just… i just need a bit more time to get over freddie.” speaking her name hurts, still he goes on. “it will be better afterwards. i mean, i did it once right ? i can do it again.” it’s a false cheer in his voice as he looks up, a false joy in his smile. he does not even truly believes in his own words. but what other choice does he have ?

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sign@doom days

“i know…” He know and still he did not come to her. He knows and still he went through hell alone, deteriorating his health to the point where is body gave up on functioning. And this she will never be able to forgive herself, that he felt he had to hide something from her - that she would not be the one to help him, or at least to listen to him. And this has nothing to do with any sense of pride, of ego being wounded, it is the mother’s heart who is still crying, even when her eyes don”t, even when he talks, even when he holds his hands. For she hasn’t been enough, for she failed at the greatest task, the most important one that has been hers since he came in her life, all those years ago. “i know i can talk to you. i guess i just did not want to worry you too much.” There it is. How could he think that anything happening to him is not the most important thing for her? That this is not what parents are for, caring for their kids - even if it makes them mad or sick? “there is nothing like worrying me too much, Seeley, until it is too late.” Until she thought par of her was dying when what happened has be told to her. Until she thought maybe yesterday night was the last time they would ever speak. “it kinda backfired, i have to admit.” Her lips pinch as she is about to give him the understatement award of the year - he does not need to feel worse, his eyes speak volume about his regrets and this is enough for now - but will it be next time he doesn’t feel well? Will he come to her? Maybe he should not have to. She will just have to pay close attention. Very. Close. Attention. “i’ll be more careful. there will be no next time, i promise.” “don’t promise lightly love. i am not sure i can handle the thought of losing you twice.” And it is not to add to his pain, but to make a point, for she knows her son maybe too well. Stubborn.

And apparently willing to go to exhaustion just to prove that he is the best - as if ever needed to. “i… i will slow down, okay ? take less shifts at the shelter, and less options.” A nod accepts the beginning of the bargain - but there will be more to come - when he will be up for it. For now he still needs to rest and surely adding contrariety to what he is going through is not the most appropriate thing to do. “good.” They will review his timetable together when he will be allowed to leave. Until then, he just has to take care of himself to get better. And still there seem to be the toughest thing. “i think i just… i just need a bit more time to get over freddie.” The first name makes her tongue click in annoyance. It is a good thing she will be away from school for some time not to be tempted to explain to this young lady what it costs to mess with her son - or to think about creative retribution. Because seeing her cub hurt like this make the lioness lose any adult sense. “it will be better afterwards. i mean, i did it once right ? i can do it again.” This. This is breaking her beyond repair. Her hand leaves the son’s to come cup his face, as her eyes are looking for his: “they did not deserve you.” And maybe those are easy words - for who would deserve her dearest treasure, a young man who tops all of her expectations, who is so bright, so kind, a much better person than she ever was or ever could be? That is a tough question. “Time heals.” But does it? The blue brings back another that would tell her she is lying. But he isn’t hear to interject - and maybe this is just the proof to confirm her theory. “You are a wonderful person, love. And you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Because of what he has been through lately, because of the way he handled things. Because of everything he is and he shows her, and the world day after day. “You have to remember this.” And then she pulls him closer, wrapping him up in her embrace. And they would stay here some blissful long minutes, before the medical staff enters the room and force them to separate - for they need to examine him. But she won’t leave the hospital - not until some more long hours, being sure that he is well-taken care of by a certain Dr Tolstoï, who convinced her that her absence would not be neglect. But even though, a dark shadow seem to follow her every step now, trying to glue itself to her soul and to swallow her whole.

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sign@doom days