45| Freya Of Fury

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The following morning the clouds parted and the sun returned and with it came the noise, the sick and the cold like the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

Neither Cloud or Jonathan felt comfortable with straying too far from Amy, so instead of leaving, Jonathan had Cloud buy them both toothbrushes and toothpaste.

They throw water on their faces in the hospital's surprisingly sterile bathroom and brush their teeth in relative silence until Jonathan catches Cloud's eye in the mirror's reflection.

“You know, your mother made me promise to look after you if something ever happened to her.”

Cloud spits the foamy toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. “That's funny. She made me promise the same thing.”

Jonathan chuckles, whacking Cloud on the back as he heads for the exit. “Alright wise-guy, meet me downstairs when you're ready.”

“Sure.” Cloud replies, waiting for Jonathan to leave before dragging his eyes across his own reflection.

He looks tired, drained, sickly even but who wouldn't be? Week by week the chaos continues to churn and at the centre of it all only one thing has remained the same.

The dark.

Not real darkness, more like a state of existing.

It's like being at the bottom of an inescapable hole with the spotlight trained solely on him at all times. The light taunts him with its very existence, leaving him with trinkets of hope for a life worth living for, only to strip them all away once he tries to claw his way out.

Even breathing has become its own chore and he's beginning to forget his own reasons for chasing the footprints of lineage.

A Morningstar?

No, definitely not a lineage he'd ever imagine himself wanting to chase, let alone belong to.

Cloud splashes his face with chilly water for the last time to reduce the puffiness around his eyes from a lack of sleep before leaving the bathroom, peering suspiciously up at the flickering light as he throws away a fistfull of tissue paper.

‘Someone forget to pay the light bill or something?’ he thinks to himself, quickly dropping it once his stomach starts to rumble.

Cloud slips into the burnt orange seat opposite Jonathan in the Hospital cafeteria, catching the stray muffin that gets tossed in his direction along with a breakfast bar and a bottle of water.

He unscrews the lid on top of the plastic bottle of water, scrunching his nose as he tips his head back, picking up on a warm scent that isn't too pleasant. “This place smells awful.”

“Well what did you expect? They make food for people who are dying or ready to die.” Jonathan replies, wiping his greying stubble as he finishes off the last bite of his food. “They don't care.”

“And you wonder where I get my snark from?”

“That's not all me, there's still some of our Amy in there.” Jonathan replies, playfully tapping Cloud's forehead, his crow feet deepening once he hears him laugh.

Cloud licks his lips, tearing into his muffin but by bit, his appetite suddenly vanishing now that he's actually seated to eat. “You ever killed someone?”

Jonathan lowers his voice, nodding his head slightly as the faces of the ghost that haunt him appear in his mind. “I've killed a lot of someones.”

“What's it like?”

Jonathan's dark eyes turn towards Cloud, trained on him but not really looking, his eyelashes quivering as he thinks about everything he's had to do to get here, everything being a Van Helsing has cost him.

“At first there's this rush, relief I guess, since you're the last guy standing…but that all goes away, eventually, and you realise how much of a waste it all was for everyone involved.”

After breakfast the father and son duo return to Amy Jefferson's hospital room, greeted by the surprise arrival of Officer Langley.

He's a short, pudgy, man in his late fifties who unfortunately started balding early in life. He's been a friend of the family for years so his sudden appearance doesn't immediately set off alarms.

“Did you find anything?” Jonathan inquire, his jacket riding up as he places his hands on his hips.

“No, no, I just came up to check on Amy's condition.”

“She hasn't woken up.” Cloud replies, taking a seat in the chair in the corner of the room.

Officer Langley’s eyes shift from Jonathan to Cloud back to Jonathan before signalling towards the door. “Jefferson, can I have a word?”

Jonathan locks eyes with Cloud, reading the concern of his face, taking his time to consider his options. “Alright, let's step out into the hall.” he replies, stepping aside, letting Officer Langley squeeze past him with his squeaky boots.

Cloud rolls his eyes, springing to his feet once he’s alone, slowly approaching his mother still stuck in her sleeping state.

He brushes the back of his fingers against her hand, waiting for far too long for her hand to atleast twitch in response. But no. Nothing. Only the constant wheezing of the machine breathing for her and the rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor.

He thinks back on all the times he never told her how much he loved her, hating the version of himself that had everything and didn't appreciate it.

He places a gentle kiss on her forehead, stroking her hair as he pleads to any god that will listen. “Please…please wake up. if not for me, then for dad. Because…because we can't do this without you.”

Again, nothing. Not even a cough.

Cloud blinks away the tears in his sweating eyes, squeezing his lips together as he shuffles over to the windows, shoving everything back down with the breeze lightly fanning his face.

Soon after a knock on the door startles him. He jumps in his skin, covering up his embarrassment with a light chuckle when he notices Sky standing just outside the door.

“I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no you didn't, I just didn't see you there is all.”

“Clearly.” Sky smiles politely, entering the room with a fistful of beautiful flowers, the bouquet in her arms barely holding together. “What do the doctors say? Do they think she'll recover?”

“We hope…that's all we really have.” he replies, lowering his gaze as he bridges the space between them. “What are you doing here?”

“We thought we'd come and pay our respects.

“We?”

Just then Neith, Casey and Topher tiptoe past the door with a giant shroom of balloons, giant teddy bears, bags of scented candles and smelling salts as well as a get well soon card with handwritten notes inside.

Sky and Cloud laugh when they hear Neith yell at the twins for taking her to the wrong room.

“Morons.” she mutters, shaking her head whilst cursing under her breath, eventually making her appearance with the Greyson twins in tow.

Cloud reaches for the spotlight, unaware of the shadows closing in at high speed.

The Initials | Nanowrimo 2023Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu