wickerpark | [Elisha & Hadyn] Don't say goodbye, say goodnight

The years hadn't always been kind, but they were good enough. It started a while ago, he guessed, the swollen ankles and feet. He always chalked it up to just getting older. It came with the shortness of breath, and he felt light headed from time to time. He figured it was all just...getting older. And nothing ever came up during his physicals.

So he kept doing what he always did. He ran every morning, two miles, as he listened to NPR streaming on his phone. He came home, showered, kissed Elisha good morning and they shared breakfast. After coffee, and a few hard to deny suggestions of staying home...Hadyn would leave for the hospital. He had given up Emergency medicine, and just ran the pediatrics department at Laurie. It gave him more '9 to 5' hours, and let him enjoy his new found empty home, sharing it with Elisha.

But today was different. Today something was wrong. Hadyn made it half a mile into his run before he started gasping for air. His head felt as if it were spinning, and he limped his way home. It took him five minutes to get his front door open, and he stumbled into the house. He reached up to his chest, wincing and groaning.

"Elisha," he called out, hearing the man in the kitchen. "Elisha!" The next thing he knew, his legs and body seemed to give out.

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He denied him his pizza out of love, really. Love for things that did not come covered in grease. Still, he smiled softly at as Elisha dealt with Izak and Sarah.

"But...You...He can get a cab," Izak protested before groaning and giving up on the argument. He was clearly not going to win, just based on the way Elisha's shoulders were set.

"A cab, he says..." Hadyn said with a laugh. "He'll be the worse you know." Izak knew the science, he knew the medical presentation, the statistics. Of their children, Izak had been the one that followed him. "Sarah the most likely to cry..."

Ty. Ty would be the most practical of their children, he suspected. And he would keep his fears to himself, maybe he would ask Izak questions. He'd hold Sarah as she cried, if she cried.

Getting to his feet, Hadyn pulled his IV and heart monitor with him as he moved to the window. He felt...off balance, but that could have just been from a lack of food. "What do we do now?" He asked as he stopped at the window and looked out.

"He could take the train, too, but its not going to happen," Elisha said dryly as he came back in the room. "Also, I should warn you now that our princess is carrying a bag that I'm fairly sure retails higher than any piece of artwork I've ever sold, so brace yourself. No palpitations allowed."

He eyed Hadyn for a moment before crossing the room to join him. "Izak will immediately become an expert. Just as you would, if it was me attached to the IV pole. Sarah, I think, is already bracing herself for the worst." She had a streak in her, Elisha thought, that reminded him of Jordan - even though there was no blood between them. As for Ty...

Well, their youngest had always had what his daddy called a stiff upper lip. Like his own mother, honestly. Hadyn was probably right there.

"We do what you would tell any patient to do," he said, reaching out to squeeze Hadyn's hand. "We listen to the doctor. We decide on what the best thing to do is. And we take each day as it comes." Because Hadyn would be fine, he told himself. Any other option simply wasn't allowed.

"Oh...That's a bit much." He said softly as he looked at Elisha. He'd long ago lost the fight to be practical, except with maybe Izak. Tyler was a little hit or miss. Practical in some ways, not so much in others. Sarah...Sarah was her other father's daughter, no doubt.

"You know...patience was never my strong suit." Hadyn said as he turned into Elisha and leaned against him. "We take each day as it comes," but....but he worried. He wasn't sure what he had Elisha's optimism. Maybe it was because he was so tired, and had been for so long.

"Eventually..." he started, before his thoughts drifted off. His concentration just wasn't what it used to be.

It was less practicality and more unnecessary frugality - but that was an argument they'd had throughout the twins' teenage year. It certainly wasn't something they were going to get in now.

He also wasn't going to get into the fact that his optimism...was mostly on the surface.

"You should do that resting I told the kids you were going to do," he said gently. "It won't be long until our interrogators are back. And...your brother. He's on a plane back from L.A. It's going to be busy the rest of the day."

"I'm scared, Elisha." Hadyn said softly, even though he knew it was rational to feel that way. He knew the science, the medically sound thought and the outcomes. He knew that life would change and that they would change. Now every second was going to be precious because...it could be the last. "I haven't been...scared like this in so...long." He felt his body shaking from it, the emotion of it. And for all his knowing, for all his understanding that grief and fear was normal... he didn't know if he could face it.

Turning, he leaned into Elisha and wrapped his arms around his husband. He needed Elisha in a way, he realised, he hadn't needed him in a long time. He needed him to not let him give up, and he felt guilty for that. For putting that burden on the man he loved.

After a while, he stepped back, and let Elisha help him to the bed again. He felt helpless and weak, but like much of his day- he rationally understood why. It didn't mean he liked it. But he slept after a while, one hand clinging to Elisha as if he needed that security in order to allow himself to rest.

"I know." He was terrified. When - eventually - he did go home, the night would be spent maintaining the façade of optimism for the children, for Hadyn's brother, and for Greg when Greg emerged.

And he knew he had to keep it up for Hadyn, too. This was the closest he'd seen his husband to giving up in...in years now. It'd been a long time since he'd had to be strong this way.

"Get some sleep," he said. "I'll be here."

Some time later, when he heard the hushed sound of his children's voices outside, he looked over at Hadyn; he hadn't stirred and there, was, he thought, no reason to wake him for this.

He closed the door silently behind him as he stepped outside to speak to their family.

[Elisha & Hadyn] Don't say goodbye, say goodnight

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