The Shepherds Vol 1

Chapter 1 One Last Game

Chapter One

The alarm went off at 6:30 a.m.

Damian Wolf stared at the ceiling for a moment, eyes unfocused, the steady chime pulsing through the quiet apartment. He exhaled slowly and reached over, silencing it with a single tap.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I know."

His phone buzzed almost immediately after.

Work: Need you in ASAP. Situation's sensitive.
Damian: Later.

He rolled onto his side, already reaching for the edge of the bed. Whatever work had planned for him could wait. Today had been circled for a long time-just not on any calendar anyone else could see.

The morning went like it always did.

Shower. Coffee. Toast he barely tasted. Teeth brushed with mechanical precision. He pulled on black pants and his worn leather jacket, the one that still smelled faintly like smoke no matter how many times he aired it out.

Before heading for the door, he paused.

Then turned back.

Flowers. Candles. And after a second's thought, the game case sitting on his counter-fresh plastic, bold lettering announcing the eighth installment like it was a promise. He slipped it into his bag.

Just in case.

---

The hospital lobby was already awake when he arrived.

"Morning, Mr. Wolf!"

A kid with a shaved head waved from near the vending machines. Another trailed behind him, dragging an IV pole like it was a toy.

"You here to see your friend again?" the first one asked.

Damian smiled. "Yeah. Thought I would."

They grinned, satisfied with the answer, and went back to their game. No one stopped him as he walked past the desk. No one ever did.

The elevator ride was short. Quiet. Familiar.

On the fourth floor, the nurses greeted him like clockwork.

"You're early today," one of them said.

"Didn't want to keep him waiting."

She nodded like that made perfect sense.

The room was at the end of the hall.

Damian knocked once before opening the door.

"You're late."

The kid was already standing there, hands on his hips, grinning wide enough to show the gap between his front teeth. He looked the same as always-same messy hair, same oversized hoodie, same restless energy barely contained.

"Traffic," Damian said dryly. "You know how it is."

The kid snorted. "Liar. Did you bring it?"

Damian reached into his bag and held up the game. The kid's eyes lit up.

"No way! That one just came out!"

"Told you I'd get it," Damian said. "Eventually."

They set it up on the small TV, shoulder to shoulder on the bed, arguing over character choices like they had a hundred times before. The kid laughed loud and often, trash-talking like a pro, completely absorbed.

For a while, Damian let himself forget the weight of the day.

Eventually, though, the kid paused the game.

"...You're being quiet."

Damian leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"My parents," the kid said suddenly. "You think they're really... you know. Waiting?"

Damian didn't answer right away.

"You ever think maybe they moved on without me?" the kid continued, voice smaller now. "What if they're mad? Or what if there's just-nothing?"

Damian turned to him then.

"You know what I've learned?" he said quietly.
"Parents don't stop waiting. Not when the room's empty. Not when the years pile up. Not even when they're gone themselves."

The kid swallowed.

"If they loved you once," Damian went on, "they're still looking for you now."

"...You really think so?"

"I know so."

The kid stared at the controller in his hands. Then he nodded.

"Then... this is the last time, isn't it?"

Damian smiled, soft but honest. "Yeah. It is."

The kid's lips twitched. "Guess that means I finally get out of this place."

"About time," Damian said. "You think paradise doesn't have video games?"

The kid laughed. "That'd be messed up."

They laughed together.

When Damian left the room, he set the flowers down carefully. The candles followed, placed neatly outside the door.

By the time he reached the end of the hall, they were burning.

"Heading out already?" a nurse asked, catching up to him near the desk. "So I'll see you again in a few months?"

Damian shook his head.

"No. He's with his parents now."

Her eyes widened, just a little. Then she smiled.

"...Alright," she said softly. "We'll keep the room clean."

"And flowers," Damian added. "Whenever you think about it."

She nodded.

Damian didn't look back as he walked away.

He didn't need to.