Through the Dark

Chapter 22: Promises

Sleeping is something that helps us cope up with things, and yes, that is what it did to Ezra after four hours of sleeping with his son next to him.

He was paralyzed. His nerves that connects to his legs are punctured by the shattered glass from the impact of their crash, and the doctors tried their best to have him able to walk.

But the nerves themselves were...shattered. Boom, just like that.

Alec was still in the same position as before; his hands with his IV was resting gently upon his father's stomach, and the boy buried himself on Ezra's neck, his breathing steady and calm. He didn't wake for a good thirty minute more, and by that time, he can hear Dr. Cazalon arguing with his father over something his dad didn't want for him to know.

"I truly understand, sir, but you have to understand, keeping this from him is simply impossible," the doctor says.

"No," was his father's short and almost dismissive reply.

"But, Mister Hartford--"

"What is it?" Alec found himself barging in the heated argument. He turned to his father, "What is it that you don't want for me to know?"

"Nothing, Alexander, go back to sleep. The doctor and I are just--"

"Will you please excuse me?" It was the doctor, "I'll be right outside if you need me." He saw his father glower at the poor man, but Charles Cazalon only shrugged off the other man's pointed stares.

"Nothing now, is it, Dad?"

When Ezra turned to his son, he sighed and held him tighter. The boy relaxed at the gesture, yet he mumbled, "Whatever it is, I am sure it's important. And don't lie to me! I can sense you're lying, Dad."

Ezra, or Severus Snape, looked at his son in surprise. The boy looked determined and his gaze was unwavering. He was a spy. He can lie with a straight face, with a sweet smile, with a knowing smirk. He was no master of deception, but he was well-versed upon the way of deceit. He looked at Tom Riddle in the eye and told him what he needs to hear. He can do that and more. But why is it that he finds it hard to even say a simple lie to his son? Was it the eyes? Was it he look? What?!

"I'll be patient. Just tell me when you're ready," Alec says with gentleness in his voice.

Ezra kissed the top of his son's hair. He will never be ready for this. This was supposed to be an easy task: make sure that Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would be safe. Live a good life as mere muggles, and pretend that they are a father and son looking for a new start.

But nothing comes easy with him being him, and Harry Potter being Harry Potter.

He was scared. He had never been scared-- not when he was facing Voldemort, not when he was risking his life as a spy. Not even when he almost died, and those times are mostly innumerable by now.

But he was scared right now. He was scared of the possibilities of his disability might bring.

But Hunter tightened his hold on him, warming him, giving him the strength. He was not alone in this. He was not to face this alone.

He had a son now. He had someone who loves him and treasures him and someone he loves and treasures in return.

"I...can't walk, Alec. I can't feel my legs. I can't use them. I'm disabled now."

He expected the boy to burst out and demand him answers to inane and rather explosive questions. After all, Alec was a Gryffindor. They were known to be fiery, but the boy did not do those. He sat, blinking, obviously taking in everything, and after a few moments, asked him, "And? Do you expect me to abandon you, Dad? I am assuming you are aware of this since you have gained consciousness."