Come Darkness, Come Light

Chapter 27 - A Year In The Life Pt 3

"Drink," I ordered softly, lifting her head with my free hand while bringing the cup to her lips. She winced in discomfort, but immediately swallowed every bit of the medicine. When I was sure it was empty, I set the cup to the side and lowered her head back to her pillow of furs. "You're going to be okay," I insisted, my voice cracking a bit at the end. Now that my mission was technically over, all the tension I'd held the past few days was draining rapidly, letting the exhaustion take over.

My mom patted my hand, coughing again to clear her throat. "I'm going to be okay," she repeated.

I shook my head, fighting the sudden urge to cry. I'd been pushing the situation to the back of my mind so I could focus on my task, but now all those emotions I'd buried were rushing to the surface. I could've been too late. I was almost too late.

"Mom," I whispered brokenly, gripping her hand tightly.

"Hey, hey, none of that," she declared, though the firmness she'd been aiming for was a bit lost due to her weakened state. "Stuff like this happens, alright? People get sick. But you helped me, and everything's going to be fine," she pressed, taking in a shaky breath at the end of her short speech.

"You've never been sick like this before," I argued quietly, sitting back and pulling my knees up to my chest, though I never let go of her hand. She was still too cold, but I'd have to wait for Toothless to return so he could warm her with his natural body heat. She was too far away from the fire pit for it to be of any use, and I still didn't feel comfortable moving her.

"No, I haven't," she agreed. For a few minutes we sat in silence, content to just be in each other's presence. Half of my attention was monitoring her raspy breathing, while the rest was listening for Toothless' arrival. He would be here soon enough.

"You know," my mom spoke up, breaking my concentration. I glanced over at her, recognizing her reminiscent expression even in the darkness. "After you were born, those first few weeks were absolute torture. You were so frail, so fragile...I feared you wouldn't make it. I thought some sickness would eventually take you from me," she said, her eyebrows pulling together at the memory.

I gulped. "How...how did you get through it? Dealing with the constant worry?" I wondered.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Your father..." She answered, voice filled with awe. "He was my rock. He never doubted you would make it, not for a second," she explained.

I blinked in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded in affirmation. "He saw your strength, even back then," she noted.

I considered that for a moment. "Whatever strength I have, I got from you," I insisted. My mom inspired me everyday. Her courage, her determination, her kindness—I could only hope to follow in her footsteps.

She let go of my hand so she could cup my cheek. I leaned into her touch, hating the thought of never feeling it again. I might enjoy my independence, but that's because I knew my mom would always be there if I needed her.

It wasn't until my mom looked over my shoulder that I realized Toothless had entered the room. His footsteps were silent as he approached, and his pupils were wide to accommodate for the lack of lighting. Without needing to be told, he immediately lay down directly beside my mom, resting his head across her body so she could soak up the heat he was giving off.

"Thanks, Toothless," she murmured, her eyes sliding closed as her shivers receded.

"Rest, Mom." I took her hand from my cheek and placed it over her stomach, letting her relax completely. It didn't take long for her to heed my advice, and I was grateful when her breathing evened out in sleep.