And that’s Josh’s problem. He lost. He lost Raiden, to me nonetheless, and he has no chance of getting him back. He would rather see him dead than see him be happy.
My parents come in, my mom’s eyes are red rimmed and the tip of her nose is red. My dad has his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as they shuffle in the room followed by Hollis and Connor.
“Sophie said her and Damon are coming by later,” Hollis says, holding onto Connor, but he’s looking at us as he says it.
I want to break down. I don’t want to be strong anymore. I want someone to hold me and tell me everything will be okay, because that’s what everyone around me has. I have no one, notwhile Raiden lays in that bed because I have to be strong for him. If I crack now, I’ll never be able to piece myself together again, because I'll have to do it without him.
“Do you remember when Ace thought he could eat a ghost pepper chip when we were stuck in the desert?” Connor breaks the silence, and I’m sucked back into a memory of red sand, scorching heat, and unbearable thirst. No matter how much water you drank, dehydration was always a risk.
The laugh I let out is rusty, in this room it feels wrong to remember the humor of the situation. But I know Connor, and he hates people feeling down. He’ll do whatever it takes to make someone smile even when they don’t feel like it.
“He downed every canteen and pissed Cap off. I’d never seen his face get so red, and that was before Ace asked if we had any water hidden somewhere else.” That’s the day we realized two things. One, never eat something that spicy in the field. And two, even when you’re out of resources, odds are your friends have some they’re willing to share. The brotherhood we formed while we were deployed stuck with us, creating the impenetrable bond we have now. We didn’t join the military because of our dedication to our country, all of us joined due toa sense of desperation. And now here we are, still clinging to that lifeline.
“Or when you and Connor were fighting over the last oreo. I thought I was going to have to perform an exorcism on Connor from the way he was screaming like a banshee trying to get you off him.”
This time, Ema laughs, a wet sound that doesn’t sound necessarily happy but it doesn't sound sad, so that’s something.
“Jericho has always felt protective over cookies. He got fed plenty when he was growing up, but the way him and Raiden would devour cookies after dinner was bananas. I thought he and Raiden would eat us out of house and home at one point. It never got that bad though, even when they did get demandingof what they wanted me to cook.” Ema shares a look with my mom and my mom busts out laughing.
“Or when they thought they could make sushi and they used the frozen salmon patties from the freezer. I’m glad we caught them before they ate it,” my mom says, wiping a stray tear from her eyes.
And that’s how we spend the day, the six of them regaling stories. Times of laughter, embarrassment, mortification. I stand with my back resting against the wall, watching the people I love most enjoy the memories we have.
When Sophie and Damon show up, most of our tears are dried and all that’s left is the sickening understanding of what we’re facing. Sophie has to choke back her sob as she walks over to Raiden’s bedside and holds his hand.
Damon sits beside Sophie as she explains, in kid terms, what’s happening to his uncle Raiden. He’s sad, obviously, but as he lifts his brown eyed gaze to mine I feel myself crumple a little more. He’s looking to me for support, to show him how he’s supposed to take this news. News that any kid his age shouldn’t be hearing.
Damon whispers something in Sophie’s ears, and then comes over to me. He grabs my hand in his, his palm so small and delicate inside my oversized hand and I squeeze him. Not hard enough to hurt, but to let him know that I’m here with him.
“Can I talk to you, uncle Jer?” Damon asks me so sweetly, and I can’t deny him. No matter how much I don’t want to leave this room, I’ll never tell him no. Not when he needs me.
My parents watch us as we walk out, my mom’s worried eyes on the back of my head as the door slowly shuts. I’m not going far.
Damon leads me over to the bench where we normally sit when Sophie comes to visit. He waits for me to sit down, and then he crawls in my lap. He squirms around until he’s perchedcomfortably on my prosthetic. Damon can feel where my sock has moved, and his fingers fiddle with it while I give him the time to choose his words.
Whatever he wanted to talk about, he didn’t want anyone else to hear. I’m not sure what it’s about, since we vowed to never keep secrets from his mom so I can only conclude that it’s something she already knows. Maybe something they’ve discussed and he wants to talk to me about it.
The silence draws out, and when Damon finally gets the sock right he doesn’t say anything, choosing to stare down at his hands.
“What’s up, buddy?” I ask him to break his silence.
“I’m going to miss uncle Rai. I don’t want him to go away.” His bottom lip trembles as the first tear releases from his eyes. I wrap my arms around him and pull his face into my neck, feeling his tears start to soak through my shirt. So many tears have been shed in this hospital. Knowing that my pseudo-nephew is crying for the man I love most is even harder to understand. How can life be so cruel? Have we not been through enough? HaveInot been through enough? When will it ever end?
“I’m going to miss him too, so much,” I whisper into his hair and smell the shampoo that Sophie uses on him. The same one Raiden loves.
He might not realize it, but even now he’s so much like his uncle. They might not be blood related but Raiden has left his mark on this world in so many ways.
Raiden will never get to see Damon grow up, but I vow to keep Raiden’s memory alive.
“Does he have to? Why can’t he stay?” Damon’s tears are coming quicker now, and he hiccups between the soft sobs. My own tears are streaming down my face and into his hair.
“Doesn’t he love us?” Damon lifts his gaze to mine and Inod my head, quickly. I never want him to doubt Raiden’s love for him, or for any of us.
“He loves us so much, buddy. But this is something he can’t control. If he had the choice, he would be right here with us. Wiping away our tears and helping us sneak out to go get cookies or ice cream.”
“Will he ever come back?”
How thefuckam I supposed to answer that?
