The second I stepped inside, I noticed two things immediately. The first being how much warmer I suddenly felt, my skin feeling almost blistering and as if it was on fire, letting me know just how cold I truly was. The second was my father standing in the centre of the living room, a drink in his hand and a relieved expression on his face as he saw me before he promptly began charging towards me.
"Thank god, Adam! Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought something had happened!" Before I could even reply, my father made it to me, placing his two hands upon my shoulder before immediately pulling them back.
"Fucking hell you're freezing! Have you been outside all night? Are you alright? Shit, we need to get you warmed up." Still trying to process his rambled words, I was ushered away from the door and towards the sofa before I was unceremoniously dumped upon it. A thick blanket followed a few seconds later, landing on top of my head.
"Dad, I'm fine, really. I guess time just got away from us for a bit." I replied, my voice muffled by the blanket I was struggling to escape from.
"You can say that again. It's almost midnight! Did you not see any of my messages?"
Realising I hadn't looked at my phone even once in the past few hours, and hearing his worried and frantic tone, a sense of guilt enveloped me. Ever since we had heard from the doctor, my dad had started to worry whenever I left his sight, as if I was going to keel over at any moment. That feeling had only gotten worse as the days passed. To the point where even if I was gone for only an hour or two, he would release a long sigh of relief whenever I came back.
"You're right," I replied sincerely, having finally managed to free myself from the comfy capture of the blanket. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again." I winced slightly at what I said, remembering the conclusion I had reached outside.
Thankfully, my dad didn't seem to notice, simply accompanying me on the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and bringing me into a hug. That was one more thing I had noticed about my dad ever since the news. He had started to become a lot more physical, constantly giving me hugs or pats. Something that was previously non-existent in our relationship, not that I was complaining, mind you.
"Don't worry about it." He said before sinking even further into the ratty couch. "How are you feeling? Are you tired, or are you down for a movie?" I couldn't help but notice the hopeful tint to his voice at the mention of a movie.
In truth, I was beyond tired, with the pain I was constantly feeling seemed to only be growing stronger, radiating outwards from my chest to the rest of my body, no longer satisfied with just focusing on my lungs. Add on the migraine that was starting to form, and the idea of sleep seemed blissful. Yet when I saw the hopeful look on my dad's face and I realised that it might be the last time we ever got to spend time together if my intuition was correct, I knew there was really only one choice I could make.
"I'm good. What movie were you thinking?" My dad's face split into a wide grin, an expression that still looked completely out of place, as he quickly grabbed the remote lying on the floor underneath his feet.
"How about another Pirates of the Caribbean? At World's End, I think, is the next one. You enjoyed the last one, didn't ya?"
"Sounds like a plan." I replied, not really minding what film was chosen. After all, it wasn't as if I was really going to be able to focus on it too well, regardless of the film.
With that being said, Dad quickly got the film ready before he rushed to the kitchen, dimming the lights as he did so, and grabbed an obscene pile of junk food. A pile which he dumped right onto the coffee table as he plopped right back onto the couch in the corner, giving me enough space to lean on my side with my knees tucked inwards as I faced towards the screen. Seeing I was comfy, he handed me a packet of chocolate from the pile of confectionery, one of my favourites, before grabbing the remote and hitting play. That was how two hours soon quickly came to pass.
I would have liked to say the film was interesting, that I was captivated by what I believed was going to be the last film I ever saw. However, taking into account how I spent the majority of the time fighting for my life to stave off the sleep that was trying so desperately to claim me while trying to ignore the pain that coursed through my body and worsened to the point the slightest movement made me want to groan in agony, it wasn't a stretch of the imagination to say I hadn't been paying much attention to the film, especially in the latter half.
I couldn't keep track of the number of times I wanted to just drift off to sleep, to give in and get some much-needed rest. It was only through pure willpower and my wish not to waste even a single second of the small amount of time I had left with my dad that kept me awake. That and the other, more frightening, thought that kept popping into my head the instant my eyelids closed. The thought that if I went to sleep, I would never wake up again.
A thought that the longer it lingered in my mind, the scarier it became. Even though I was handling my upcoming death surprisingly well, far better than I could have ever expected. It didn't mean I was just ready to roll over and accept it. I wasn't just about to let myself drift off to sleep for eternity without fighting tooth and nail to stay awake for as long as I could. Unfortunately, with the way I felt as the movie drifted to a close, that didn't seem to last long.
"That was fucking good. I can see why they made so many of them." My dad said with a groan as he stood, stretching his back as he did so, which made a frightening crack.
"So what did you think?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah, I thought it was great." I lied, praying he wasn't going to ask me any specific questions about the film.
"Right! I thought it was even better than the last one. Saying that though..." Thankfully, it seemed he was more than happy to simply ramble away about his own thoughts on the film.
As I watched him rave far more excitedly than I could ever remember him doing before. A small, very small part of my mind couldn't help but be slightly thankful for what my disease had caused. Without it, I had no presumptions that the relationship I had with my dad would have developed into what it is now. As such thoughts flitted through my mind, I listened as my dad continued to ramble, ramblings which only came to a stop upon hearing the massive yawn that I released.
"Shit I hadn't even noticed the time. You need to get some rest. Doctor Soren did say that rest was the best treatment."
"I know Dad. I was there in the room with you when he said it." I replied, rolling my eyes as I stood up. Or at least I tried to, immediately collapsing right back onto the couch the moment I did.
"Adam! Are you alright?" My father asked worryingly as he immediately knelt down towards me, His hands landing upon my cheeks as he scanned me meticulously.
"Relax, I'm fine," I said with false bravado. "My legs just felt a little weak from lying down for so long. Look." And with that, I stood back up once again, this time pressing my arm against the sofa as leverage to do so.
As I did so, I did my best to try and hide the massive amount of pain I felt radiating out from my legs the moment pressure was placed on them. Instead, despite how much I wanted to scream in agony and collapse back upon the couch, I simply smiled as I focused all my effort on stopping the way they minutely shook in stress, hoping my father wouldn't notice as he fixed me with a piercing gaze. A gaze that lasted for what felt like minutes as his eyes locked on me and he continued to scan my body. It was only as I felt he would never stop, and as my left hand turned paler than even usual from trying to hold up my entire weight, that he finally turned away with a sigh of relief. One I quietly matched when his eyes were away.
"Thank god. You really have to stop worrying me like that. I'm going to have a fucking heart attack one of these days." Even though he said it as a joke from the exhausted look held deep within his eyes, I knew there was some truth to it.
"Alright, well, you need to go straight to sleep," He continued. "And be careful not to add any unnecessary stress while you do so." He added sternly. In response, I bit back the sarcastic retort, wanting to escape about how I could possibly stress my body by going to sleep, knowing I needed to get to my room quickly before I completely passed out. Something which was sounding more and more tempting with each passing second.
"Alright, goodnight, Dad." I said, already walking towards my room, focusing with all my willpower to act as steady as possible.
"Goodnight son. See you in the morning."