The Girl On the Moon [#Watty2015]

Chapter 11: Rowan Smith

As I walked back into the house, something obviously was off. "Father?" I called out, glancing around the room. "Father?" I said again, more urgently. Slowly, cautiously, as if expecting a snake to strike, I pad to the door leading to his room, and I feel Sammy behind me. The door creaks open beneath my touch, and there he is. On the floor, hacking helplessly. I sprint towards him in long bounds, my breath catching in my chest, and kneel down on the floor. I snatch his veined hand and cradle it in mine as I inspect my father. "Father! Father, what can I do to help?!" I cry, staring at him urgently. His coughs slowly become less intense, his chest shaking with phantom effort, and soon he is quiet again. Still, I can feel his fingers tremble as I hold to my father firmly, as if if I don't let go, he will be fine. Because I have to believe. There's still so much I need to know.

"Rowan, take me outside, my dear. I want to see the sky one more time." Forcing a watery smile, he stifles another deep rasp. With Sammy's help, I'm able to pick him up and move him outside. I'm glad, despite how beautiful it might be, that we're not on Earth, or else he would be much heavier. Or perhaps that's another fib he's yet to correct. With a quick shake of my head–brief enough so that Sammy doesn't notice–I try to clear my mind. My only focus should be right here, right now.

In the moments I was distracted, I veered slightly to the side, so I have to right myself. I'm glad to have Sammy's firm hands supporting my father in addition to mine, but we aren't entirely in sync, though I can tell he's trying. It's a bit awkward, weaving Father in and out through the furniture, making sure he doesn't bump his head, but we do it. Soon, we are outside, him laid gently on the rocky ground and I support his head in my lap.

Father seems to be looking faraway, over my shoulder and at the sky above us. Breathing in sharply, he begins to talk, his words spilling out. "I didn't want to tell you this, I just didn't want to. I know you distrust me for lying to you, and I knew that if you learned this...you might never be able to look at me again– and I couldn't bear being without you, Rowan. All those deaths, all this guilt, all these years. I was the one who infected everyone." He sighs, as if the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders. "There is one more thing, though," before continuing, Father gives me a weak smile, "one thing that has weighed me down. And for that, I'm sorry." He glances up at me, one last time, his head still resting in my lap.

"No! You shouldn't be sorry. I forgive you, for everything. I'm so sorry-"

He cuts me off before I can finish, "No, no. Don't apologize. After all, I'm the one apologizing here, and that's how it should be. After all, I never gave you those gold stars. But if I could, I'd give you all the ones in the sky." I smile through my tears, faded memories returning; a younger man picking me up as a child, telling me about all the gold stars he'd give me.

Sammy steps forward then, clearing his throat awkwardly. It's clear that he doesn't feel comfortable intruding here. He leans in to whisper to Father, not wanting me to hear, but I'm so close to them that I do. "You're dying, sir. And while I may not have understood most of what you said, I'm sorry, but you won't be able to give her all the stars in the sky if you're dead. Though, I hope that you can become one, and twinkle over her. Anyways, let me do it for you. Let me help her." Father smiles, one last time, and nods the slightest of nods.

Then, he's gone. I know it from the lack of breath against my cheek, the slump of his shoulders. The body in my lap has lost its spark. My broken sobs increase, the warm tears streaming down my face and dripping onto his, which has gone still. In desperation I know is useless–but I can't resist, not now when I have so little control over myself–I snatch his wrist and move my fingers to his pulse. There is nothing but a harsh absence and my old friend, his hand resting on my shoulder.

A/N: SOOOOOOO. How did you like this chapter? Sufficiently sad, or nah? By the way, this Shelia reporting from bordem. I'm writing a sad part for a separate story of mine, so I thought of this chapter, and I felt like updating this story. Twice. I can't actually write much more of this story at the moment, since we're on an important Rowan chapter, and I need Callie for that. Instead, I'm satisfying myself with updating twice in a row. Also, in interesting news,  Callie has suggested a dragon attack in the sixteenth chapter. DUN DUN DUNNNN. (Sorry, I spoiled it, oh no!)