The Fall of Forever {A MyStreet FF}

{18} Righteousness

Cringy A/N but hey y'all, ig i have a tumblr now and i'd love to have discussions with all of you if you'd be interested in following (pov im advertising my tumblr rn) it's ging-dong and there's not a lot on it right now but i'd love to hear from you guys!! 💕

TW: Mentions of death, vomiting, and decently graphic depictions of pain

There were so many days where Garte was so dazed he felt like he was dreaming the entirety of the past few months.

The next few days after Garroth was given the Forever Potion were exactly like that.

Michael agreed to erase the memories of Garroth's cancer from everyone after the potion was administered. However, Michael went back on his word and insisted that they wait. Garte, entirely bitter but hardly in a position to argue, bit his tongue and took his son home.

What Garte truly was not prepared for was the sheer amount of pain Garroth was in.

Even taking the little one out of the car once they arrived home was a painstakingly long task. When he went to unbuckle Garroth from his car seat, he was met with a shrill scream from the boy.

It was not a scream of defiance, but a scream of pure agony and anguish. The words Garroth couldn't say, the words that would tell his father that he felt like every bone in his body was slowly being snapped, were said in that single scream he let out.

Garte eventually took Garroth inside and laid him on his and Zianna's bed. Garroth's face was pale, and his eyes were sunken in. Though the green hue that surrounded him was gone, his veins were still obviously protruding from his skin. Garte placed a hand on Garroth's head and lightly stroked his hair.

"I'm going to try and get some work done," Garte stated, finding some excuse to let Garroth sleep. "You want to try and sleep? You might feel better when you wake up."

Garroth pain doubled up with the sense of fear. Though he didn't know exactly what had happened that day, he knew that hours before he was not safe where he was.

"Please don't go, Daddy," Garroth said faintly.

Garte's heart was shattered. What had he put Garroth through? Was it truly his fault that his son was lying on his bed, unable to move?

Suddenly, the workload didn't matter. Garte's vision was tunneled on his son that, though the cancer was gone, he didn't look much healthier.

"You've got it, buddy," Garte said, sitting down next to Garroth with his hand still on his head.

"Is Momma here?" Garroth spoke up.

"Nope," Garte shook his head. "It's just you and me for a couple days."

They never knew they shared this sentiment, but both the father and son were glad that it was just them for a while. Garte was glad, because he didn't have to explain the amount of pain Garroth was in to Zianna. Garroth was especially relieved that he wasn't going to have to handle his noisy little brothers being around the house.

Garroth reached his tiny arms out to his father. He felt so tiny and helpless in his situation, and only wanted to feel protected again. Garte picked up Garroth with incredible gentleness and held him close, relaxing against the headboard of the bed.

Garte could hear Garroth wincing with every breath. He struggled in breathing, blinking, moving. Everything only made the pain worse.

"Are you sure you want me to hold you?" Garte asked after a couple minutes.

"Mmhm," Garroth nodded, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"You've had quite the day, haven't you?" Garte kissed Garroth's head and stifled an awkward chuckle.