Sleeping is something that helps us cope up with things, and yes, that is what it did to Ezra after four hours of sleeping with his son next to him.
He was paralyzed. His nerves that connects to his legs are punctured by the shattered glass from the impact of their crash, and the doctors tried their best to have him able to walk.
But the nerves themselves were...shattered. Boom, just like that.
Alec was still in the same position as before; his hands with his IV was resting gently upon his father's stomach, and the boy buried himself on Ezra's neck, his breathing steady and calm. He didn't wake for a good thirty minute more, and by that time, he can hear Dr. Cazalon arguing with his father over something his dad didn't want for him to know.
"I truly understand, sir, but you have to understand, keeping this from him is simply impossible," the doctor says.
"No," was his father's short and almost dismissive reply.
"But, Mister Hartford--"
"What is it?" Alec found himself barging in the heated argument. He turned to his father, "What is it that you don't want for me to know?"
"Nothing, Alexander, go back to sleep. The doctor and I are just--"
"Will you please excuse me?" It was the doctor, "I'll be right outside if you need me." He saw his father glower at the poor man, but Charles Cazalon only shrugged off the other man's pointed stares.
"Nothing now, is it, Dad?"
When Ezra turned to his son, he sighed and held him tighter. The boy relaxed at the gesture, yet he mumbled, "Whatever it is, I am sure it's important. And don't lie to me! I can sense you're lying, Dad."
Ezra, or Severus Snape, looked at his son in surprise. The boy looked determined and his gaze was unwavering. He was a spy. He can lie with a straight face, with a sweet smile, with a knowing smirk. He was no master of deception, but he was well-versed upon the way of deceit. He looked at Tom Riddle in the eye and told him what he needs to hear. He can do that and more. But why is it that he finds it hard to even say a simple lie to his son? Was it the eyes? Was it he look? What?!
"I'll be patient. Just tell me when you're ready," Alec says with gentleness in his voice.
Ezra kissed the top of his son's hair. He will never be ready for this. This was supposed to be an easy task: make sure that Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would be safe. Live a good life as mere muggles, and pretend that they are a father and son looking for a new start.
But nothing comes easy with him being him, and Harry Potter being Harry Potter.
He was scared. He had never been scared-- not when he was facing Voldemort, not when he was risking his life as a spy. Not even when he almost died, and those times are mostly innumerable by now.
But he was scared right now. He was scared of the possibilities of his disability might bring.
But Hunter tightened his hold on him, warming him, giving him the strength. He was not alone in this. He was not to face this alone.
He had a son now. He had someone who loves him and treasures him and someone he loves and treasures in return.
"I...can't walk, Alec. I can't feel my legs. I can't use them. I'm disabled now."
He expected the boy to burst out and demand him answers to inane and rather explosive questions. After all, Alec was a Gryffindor. They were known to be fiery, but the boy did not do those. He sat, blinking, obviously taking in everything, and after a few moments, asked him, "And? Do you expect me to abandon you, Dad? I am assuming you are aware of this since you have gained consciousness."
Ezra was gobsmacked-- truly, utterly shocked to his core.
His son had much more perception than what he had been given credit to. Ezra obviously underestimated him. One look at those green eyes, Ezra saw a smart, smart boy. He had a heart of gold, and he was loved by everyone he gets to know with.
"I am insulted, just so you know," Alec says as he sits up, "but I understand. You were just like me. I was afraid everyone would leave me, too, when I had known I had cancer. But you showed me that I was wrong."
Alec looked mature, saying these things, but then again, Ezra was a witness to the boy's intelligence and sensibility.
"You are a man of ironies, aren't you, Dad?" The boy says with a wry smile, "You tell me that I'm not alone in this, but there you are, having these doubts about everything."
"I'll never leave you," the boy assures, his voice soft and humming, laced thick with emotion. "And I stand by my word. Shall we call Dr. Cazalon in?"
And just like that. Ezra and Alec consulted with Dr. Cazalon regarding Ezra's 'disability'. Alec was assured that Ezra could and would have his legs' strength back, if he would undergo under a physiotherapy. All Ezra wanted was to go back home and hold his son. Ezra said he would considered about it and inform the doctor as soon as he came to a decision.
The doctor agreed and said that they need to do a final check on Hunter then they're free to go.
-----()----()----()----
Hunter took a deep breathe as the doctor checked him. The doctor told him to take things gently. Thoughts attacked his mind. He could see his father's eyes filled with hopelessness. The man expected him to leave.
'Never, Hunter. Never. I'll never leave you.'
That's what his Dad said to him when he asked the man to not leave him. Surely, he doesn't expect Hunter to be ungrateful and abandon his father just because he's disable. Hunter is determined to help his father no matter what. After all, they're in this together.
He put on his clothes. He checked his phone to see messages from Jesse and Andrew. He smiled thinking about those two. Both of them reminded him so much about Hermione and Ron. He looked around and was happy to leave the place. He walked out of the hospital room and stuffed his phone into his pocket.
Hunter knew it wasn't going to be easy. Severus Snape was an independent man. He hated asking for help. It took a lot of convincing for the man to agree with the idea of physiotherapy. Alas, he said he would like to consider before agreeing.
He walked into his father's room to see the man all ready. Although, the man was grimacing on the chair, a look of disdain on his face, clearly uncomfortable with the fact that he was treated and was fussed over by the nurses. Cazalon was there, holding a stethoscope over Snape's chest.
"All set now, Hunter?" It was Alice, the nurse who took care of him since his admission. Hunter nodded with vigor. He was more than relieved to be able to go home and maybe start school again, with Jesse and Andrew.
"So is your Dad, I believe," Doctor Cazalon says, patting his shoulder. "I'll see you soon, Hunter. And you to as well, I believe, Mister Hartford. Do think of what we have talked about." He smiled knowingly as Ezra answered with a scoff.
A man who acted like a porter hailed a cab for them and they helped both of them on. Doctor Cazalon had Alice and two other nurses to aid them getting off since Hunter can't manage still. His wrist and rib area were still bandaged tightly and neatly and the nurses gave him additional bandages as well.
------
"Home Sweet Home!" Hunter exclaimed, kissing the floor.
"Get your lips off the floor and wash them, Alec. That is unsanitary," Ezra reprimanded his son. When Hunter didn't move but instead laid on the carpet, he scowled even more. "Get up. Do as I say, Alec. Be careful of your body. Do not bump on the--" Ezra winced as his son did bumped on the coffee table, "Dear Lord, you are a walking disaster."
"Oh do shut up, Dad," Alec said with a feigned scowl back at his father. He then proceeded to go to the kitchen and released the air he was holding in and winced as a shot of pain lanced through his chest.
"Damn it," he murmurs, but returns a smile on his face as he hears the now familiar sound of the wheels of his Dad's wheelchair approaching him.
"Come along, Alec. I know you are tired," Alec swallowed the lump in his throat. Even in his state, Ezra only thought of him-- how he feels, how he is. He rarely thought of himself.
And that selflessness...it was another side of Snape that Hunter sees as a revelation of what kind of man his now father was.
He pushed his father's wheelchair and took him to the lone room on the lower floor, and helped him unto the bed.
"Alec?"
"Hmm?"
A long silence, then a gruff, "You can stay if you like."
Again, it was so against his father's character to ask of anything, much more to reveal a soft side to him or to anyone, that is.
And he was grateful that his father was willing to go out of his comfort zone and do the opposite. Who was he to deny his father? After all, there are many sacrifices that they had done to go this far.
Once again, he slept next to his father, not letting go until it was dawn, ignoring the dull ache in his chest.
-----
The next day, it was Hunter who woke up first. He turned and saw that his father was still sleeping. He decided he wake up and prepare breakfast for the two of them.
He did his morning routine as usual.
And he admits that it was hard to have seen his father like that-- dependent, too morose, too meek. Hunter has never seen Ezra so compliant. Maybe it was because he didn't want to overburden his son.
But as he was wheeling his father onto the dining table, there was a part of Hunter was on the verge of giving up.
And it was harder than how he ought it to be: his chest was aching, his wrist was simply out of sorts and an attack on his body was waiting for the perfect time. The weakness was back, the pain on his abdomen was, too. The painkillers weren't helping, and Hunter knew that it wouldn't be long until his lymphoma would make itself resurface and he would be out of breaths again.
------
And the perfect time did come.
He was sleeping next to Ezra as usual. He cannot allow to have his dad sleep alone now, could he? And he was sleeping on his side of the bed.
It was four days after they were released from the hospital.
He woke up to the sudden pain on his whole body.
Then there was this thump thump of his heart, and then his breathing became shallow. Too shallow that it came to a point that he couldn't take even a second of rest then another wave would wash all over him.
And then there was the pain.
He could feel the beads of sweat that was forming on his brow and he can feel his knuckles clutching the sheets, but nothing was there except the pain.
He felt like he was drowning, and knowing that it was to happen. His throat and air passage seemed clogged.
Slowly, slowly, by his own breathing, he was dying. Every breath was equal to tons of pain on his chest and on his lungs and it was causing him to tear up.
He struggled to regain his composure and just relax, but it was simply impossible. He was crying as his illness overtook him. He doesn't want to wake Ezra up. No. Never. He wouldn't. He could do this, he could.
After all, he had taken care of himself since he was younger. He had healed himself, slept the flus away.
But then again, he had magic then. He had an arsenal, a friend, a helping hand.
And now, he doesn't have that.
He only has Ezra, and he can't be a burden to Ezra than he already is.
And Hunter could feel himself drown even deeper, as his chest felt like being crushed, his breathing more and more laboured and his lifeforce slipping off his fingers inch by slow, painful inch.
He was dying, dying, dying.
Hunter wanted to hold on.
He wanted to scream, too.
The pain was so much, too much. Even moving his fingers hurt. And Hunter was sure that screaming would hurt, too.
So, he didn't scream.
Instead, he kept on praying that everything would go fine, and that he would be fine after a few moments.
But the prayers were unanswered.
And then, Ezra might have felt him stirring in his sleep.
His poor father struggled to sit up and drag him out of the pain.
But there was nothing but pain.
Pain, and Ezra. Through his hazy gaze, Hunter saw Ezra. His father trembled at the sight of him, moaning and groaning and clutching to sheets as if it would give him the air he needed.
And Hunter reached for him. Ezra took his hand and told him to hold on, that help was coming.
But the pain was too much. Hunter still held on to his Dad, his saviour, his Superman.
And with a few more struggle to breathe, Hunter saw nothing but black.