"Hello, Sehan," Helios coming closer to him greeted, but his smile faltered as soon as he noticed the pallor in Sehan's face. His usual composure and teasing was nowhere to be found. Something seemed wrong. Very wrong.
"Huh? What's the matter?" Helios asked, his voice tinged with unease.
Sehan's lips pressed into a thin, grim line. He didn't speak.
A sudden, sharp wave of dread crashed over Helios. His breathing quickened, his pulse pounding in his ears, "H-hey… don't scare me. What happened? Is something wrong? Are you alright?"
Still, Sehan remained silent as he took Helios to the car.
The ride back was unbearable. Helios looked at Sehan and the chauffeur confused, his hands gripping his bag straps tightly. Every second was filled with suffocating tension. But when the vehicle veered off its usual route, away from home and toward the hospital, Helios's stomach twisted into knots. "…Poseidon," he whispered as the car came to a stop.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he bolted forward, sprinting through the hospital's corridors, his heart racing faster than his legs could carry him. He didn't think. He just ran. But just before reaching Poseidon's room, he came to a sudden halt.
Layla's room. Through the slightly open door, he caught sight of Layla, Sahil, and Karin, their expressions grave as they sat in a tense discussion with several doctors.
"He's safe for now," one of the doctors said, his tone heavy with caution, "But if he does that again, we may not be able to save him."
Another doctor sighed, "Playing cricket? Alone? When he can barely move? It's like inviting death to his doorstep. That's recklessness. It should be confiscated."
Helios's breath hitched. His hands curled into trembling fists.
Behind him, Sehan finally caught up, breathing heavily.
"…Guillain-Barré Syndrome[1]," one of the doctors murmured, shaking his head. "To this extent? I can't believe he's endured it for so long."
"Up until now, it's been a miracle that he's even survived," another added grimly.
"There's a cure. A way to pause it temporarily," Layla said, though her voice lacked conviction, "But it takes time."
Sahil exhaled sharply, "Time is exactly what we don't have."
"Surgery on a child who is this weak is too dangerous," one of the doctors reasoned, "His body won't withstand it."
"But just keeping him on medication isn't any better…" another argued, frustration laced in their voice, "He gets seizures. Sometimes even while just sitting. We can't rely on that forever."
Through it all, Karin remained silent. Her usually composed figure trembled ever so slightly.
"We have to take a gamble," Sahil said, his voice firm despite the uncertainty in his eyes.
A heavy silence followed.
Then, a doctor hesitantly spoke, "…If that's the case, then tell us honestly, Doctor Layla, how much time does that boy have?"
Layla's throat tightened. She struggled to find the words, knowing that saying them aloud would make them real. Her voice wavered as she finally whispered, "If we're lucky… until he turns 18. At best, 20. After the surgery it can be extended to 25 at most."
Her words hung heavy in the air, suffocating the room in silence. No one spoke. No one moved. Karin stared at her hands utterly bewildered.
Meanwhile, Helios stood frozen outside the door, his entire world crumbling in a matter of seconds. His breath hitched, his pulse roaring in his ears. His bag slipped from his shoulders, landing on the floor with a dull thud. The sound startled Layla, Sahil, and the gathered doctors, their gazes snapping toward him.
Helios shook his head in denial, his voice barely above a whisper, "No… no…" The word repeated like a fragile echo, cracking under the suffocating fear rising within him. The same fear that had haunted him ever since he first met Poseidon. His hands trembled uncontrollably.
"Helios…?" Layla called gently, but he had already turned away, his feet moving before his mind could catch up. He bolted toward Poseidon's room, his heart hammering.
Sahil hesitated for a second, exchanging a look with Layla, then swiftly followed.
Sehan too followed.
As Helios reached the room, an eerie stillness greeted him. The bed lay empty, the sheets rustling slightly in the breeze from the open window. His breath caught in his throat.
Poseidon wasn't there.
His body froze for a second, but then his sharp gaze caught a slight movement. The IV drip swaying slightly, the only sign of life in the room. And then— A sound. Soft, broken hiccups. A muffled sob.
Helios's steps quickened, his eyes scanning the room frantically. He rounded the bed and there, curled up in a corner, was Poseidon, his small frame trembling violently, shoulders heaving with silent cries. His hand clutched his bandaged wrist, and with a sudden, reckless motion, he ripped the patch away, exposing the delicate skin beneath.
Helios froze.
Poseidon then raised his hand again to pull the cannula away but before he could.
"Poseidon, what are you doing?!" Helios gasped, lunging forward to grab Poseidon's wrist before he could cause himself more harm.
Poseidon flinched at the sudden touch. His tear-filled eyes, usually so full of warmth, were now clouded with raw, unfiltered pain.
And then, something Helios had never seen before.
A glare. A defiant, pained, enraged glare. "Let go!" Poseidon rasped, his voice cracking, "Leave me alone! Go away!" he pushed him away, trying to loosen his wrist from Helios's grasp.
But Helios didn't let go. Instead, his grip tightened.
Poseidon thrashed weakly in his hold, his voice rising in broken desperation, "I don't care! I don't care anymore! Just leave me alone! I am fed up! I hate it! I just want to die already!"
Helios's heart twisted at the words. He clenched his jaw, his own eyes brimming with tears. "No," he choked out, shaking his head furiously, "I won't let you. Don't you dare give up!"
Poseidon fought harder, shoving at him with all the strength his frail body could muster. "Why don't you get it?!" he sobbed, "Just leave me alone, please! Don't… make me like this world. Don't become important to me… please."
They struggled.
Poseidon flailing, Helios holding on as though his life depended on it. Amid it, the IV stand wobbled dangerously beside them, the metal pole tipping. A second later, it crashed.
Helios barely had time to react. He pulled Poseidon toward him, shielding him as the stand collapsed beside them with a metallic clang. The impact sent them tumbling to the floor.
At the door, "Poseidon! Helios!" Sahil called, instinctively moving to step in, but Sehan's arm shot out, stopping him.
"Don't," Sehan murmured. His lips curled into a small, melancholic smile, "You once told me, Sir… that sometimes, the only person who can give you courage is yourself." He gestured toward the two boys on the floor, his voice thick while recalling his own past mistakes, "Helios… has already found his courage. Now, it's time for Poseidon to find his."
Sahil's sharp eyes took in the sight before him.
Helios lying on the floor, his arms wrapped around Poseidon, who sobbed uncontrollably against his chest.
Helios's gaze was fixed on the ceiling, wide-eyed, as if the entire burden of the world had just settled onto his small shoulders. His fingers found Poseidon's hair, stroking it with an aching gentleness. "D-don't you dare say that a-again," he whispered, his voice firm yet trembling, "You're my brother. M-my best friend. You are not allowed to leave me. Not now. Not ever."
Poseidon clutched at Helios's shirt, his body trembling as another broken sob escaped him, "But… I'm scared," he hiccupped, "I'm so scared. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to hurt you… I'm sorry, Heli…"
Helios realizing just moments ago, he had fallen. His head striking the floor, barely managing to shield himself from the collapsing IV stand. Yet, none of it mattered. The pain felt held no worth at all. Not when compared to the suffering Poseidon had endured and was still enduring.
"I know," Helios murmured, his own tears spilling over, "I know… you don't have to say anything…"
Poseidon's exhausted body gave in, his sobs fading into quiet hiccups. His eyelids drooped, his breathing evening out. He pressed his face into Helios's chest, his voice barely above a whisper, "Heli… I don't want to die. Let me live. I want to live…"
Helios's breath shuddered. He shifted, gently pulling Poseidon beside him, their hands intertwined. His lips curled into a soft, tired smile as he whispered into the silence of the room, "I knew it, silly. You will live." His fingers squeezed Poseidon's hand lightly, "Even if I have to beg the God himself… you will live."
Poseidon felt tired, his lashes trembling closing shut. "I'm s-sorry Heli…" he whispered, weakly.
----
Sometime later, as the echoes of sobs faded into soft, steady snores, Sahil and Sehan entered the room, followed closely by Layla and Karin.
Exhaling, Sehan carefully loosened Helios's grip on Poseidon's hand and lifted him from the cold floor.
Meanwhile, Sahil bent down to carry Poseidon. The moment he did, his expression shifted into a deep frown. He had carried Helios many times before, but lifting Poseidon felt entirely different, as if he weighed nothing at all.
Layla, noticing his concern, gently squeezed his arm, while Karin remained silent, sitting on the bed. Her expression dull, devoid of any emotion.
Sahil ran a comforting hand through Poseidon's hair before pressing a soft kiss to his temple.
Layla bit her lip in silence.
"He's going to be alright," Sahil said, his voice quiet yet firm. Then, turning to Karin, he added with certainty, "Believe us."
Layla nodded in agreement.
"Helios isn't our only son," Sahil continued, "Poseidon is, too. As long as he's under our care, as long as even the smallest sliver of hope remains, we won't let anything happen to him."
Sehan glanced at Helios, now resting on his shoulder, and a small, relieved smile touched his lips, "Looks like your efforts paid off, little one," he thought.
[1] Guillain–Barré syndrome (GBS) is a rapid-onset muscle weakness caused by the immune system damaging the peripheral nervous system. Typically, both sides of the body are involved, and the initial symptoms are changes in sensation or pain often in the back along with muscle weakness, beginning in the feet and hands, often spreading to the arms and upper body. The symptoms may develop over hours to a few weeks. During the acute phase, the disorder can be life-threatening, with about 15% of people developing respiratory muscle weakness requiring mechanical ventilation. Some are affected by changes in the function of the autonomic nervous system, which can lead to dangerous abnormalities in heart rate and blood pressure.