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Philzas point of view *

I smile at my three sleepy boys as I tuck them into bed, kissing them each on the forehead. Wilbur is hugging tommy so tightly I can't separate them without waking him up. I get him a glass of water while he puts Tommy into the crib we built 3 days ago together. We sit in the kitchen and talk a while. He ends up singing a song for me that he wrote. The lyrics didn't exactly flow, but he's 12. The talent is clearly there.

We chat a bit until he, too, is finally asleep. I carry him, with his head on my shoulder, to his room. Tommy is surprisingly quiet for such a small child. He's not quite an infant. I'd probably put him around 1 year old, maybe a little less. Still so young. So small. So fragile.

I stroke his hair softly, and he stirs. I then once again cover him in the crimson wool blanket he was given to us with. The door squaks as I close it behind me, leaving the sleeping boys behind me to rest. It's been a long day.

Down the hall and up the stairs, I head to Technos room. When I hear the sounds inside, I break into a run.

He's shaking on the bed, lost in a world that's not real. Muffled screaming can be heard from under the blanket he's managed to wrap around his head,and his arms and legs claw and swing violently at unseen enemies. I rush to his side, slamming the door behind me. I cry his name as I rip away the blanket, trying to calm him down. His eyes are squeezed shut, and without the blanket, his cries are terrifying.

"Stay away! No! STOP!" He is swinging at me now as I try to shake him awake. I don't know what to do. His skin is ice to the touch but drenched in sweat, and his face is soaked tears.

"Wake up! Techno, wake up!" I plead. He's thrashing now, shaking the entire room it seems.

"Get out of my head, get out, get out, get OUT!" He screams and suddenly wakes. I pull him into a hug, but I can see that he isn't fully here. His eyes don't recognize me, and he pulls away, moving instinctively on fear.

I don't blame him for what happened. Not at all. I shouldn't let a child keep a sword in his room anyways. No matter how good with it he is, he is still a child.

But one second, it's beside the dresser; the next, it's in my chest.

I choke, unable to breathe enough. Blood bubbles inside me, up my throat, and dribbles out my mouth. In seconds, my son has calmed down enough to be part of reality again. Just  to see in horror what he has done.

"Shhh, shh. It's ok." I say softly, mostly because I can't speak much louder than this.

"N-no! Wh-what did I do?" He begins to cry again. He's going to be so dehydrated.

"I'm fine." I reassure him. I have a whole chest of healing potions in the storage room. I just need to get up.

Techno falls to the floor, hands over his mouth. He's lost to our world again. I stagger to my feet and walk over. I gently stroke his back. As I do, I count my heart tracker on my wrist. 2 left. This kid knows how to deal damage...

I feel guilty leaving, but I have to do this. I can't help him if I'm dead. I practically fall down the stairs and drag myself to the stage room, looting through the chest by the door. I down the potion. Now for the hard part.

My hearts on the rise, I take as deep a breath as I can and try to stiffle my screams as I pull the dull sword from my chest.

"Dad? What's going on?" Will says from the doorway.

"NOTHING. Go back to bed!" I snap. I instantly regret it, but I can't deal either this right now.

"D-dad? Are you ok?" He asks shakily. Oh boy.

"I'm fine, Will. I just hit my head and got a bit of blood all over. I'll be fine. Go back to sleep, ok?" I say gently this time. My wound has already almost fully healed, so I put my hand to my head and turn around with a smile; I'm banking on the darkness to hide most of this. I need to get back upstairs....

He looks a bit relieved. We went over anatomy last week, and he knows the head bleeds in large quantities. I think I convinced him. I hate lying, but I don't want to make this any harder than it is.

I practically push him into his room and close the door. I then race up the stairs.

There's madness in his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt them. Please be quiet. What does E even mean? Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP. SHUT UP!" The poor boy screams, rocking back and forth on the floor, holding his head.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's ok. Don't listen to them. It's alright." I say, pulling him into a hug. I pick up the shivering child and lay him back in his bed. The earliest light of day is beginning to come through the window.

" Listen to my voice
Hear me say to you
I'm here now
I always will be
And there's nothing I won't do

Sometimes, things are scary
Sometimes, things go wrong
But if it's getting hairy
Just sing with me this song.

Listen to my voice
Hear me say to you
I'm here now
I always will be
And there's nothing I won't do "

I sing softly, stroking his thin hair, and I wipe his tears from his eyes with my thumb. I sing it twice before he begins to join in softly.

"It's ok, my little warrior. Everyone needs help sometimes. Just go to sleep. It'll be ok in the morning. " I whisper. He drowsily drops his damp eyelids. After he does, I gently stroke his arm until his breathing regulates, and he's finally asleep again. I run my hand a little higher to stroke his hair but stop. There's something on his shoulder. I gently pull the robe back a bit from his shoulder and gasp at the sight.

A lump almost an inch in diameter sits just beside his collar bone. Now I know I'm not a doctor. But, there are many diseases and illnesses that are feared across the Overworld because we know no cure for them. We learn to recognize these things because they terrify us. For example, we know a heart attack when we see one because we fear them.

I don't fear others or natural disasters. But I have always been scared of something I can't prevent or fix. And cancer is one of them.

So, I may not be a doctor. But I think I recognize cancer when I see it.

Puffy better have a good reason for not telling me.

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