For the past... how many months? Maybe half a year, he'd lost track--then again, time to a child is obscure and often exaggerated. Nonetheless, he'd visited this place every day right after school released. Though the city was full of dangerous people, or so he was told, he never came attended; the doctors and nurses came to expect this, just as they expected him to arrive and leave at particular times. He didn't know it, but they worried if he was off schedule. He was an adorable, shy, blond-haired, red-eyed boy, not at all what they would have expected someone bearing that last name to be like. Since his mother had been admitted into the hospital, you could say that Rock became somewhat adopted by the staff, and while he was in the vicinity they made sure to take good care of and watch over him.
For the first week, a nurse would accompany him up to the fifth floor, where Marie's room was, so that he wouldn't get lost. But the more time went by, the child grew more independant, to the point where all he needed to do was pause and say "hello" to the receptionist before heading up by himself; and when any unfamiliar doctors or nurses stopped him, he'd simply explain who he was visiting, and for some reason the name seemed to act as a pass of sorts, often eliciting a sympathetic smile from them along with a verbal show of understanding. It never dawned on him that the reason might be they knew something he didn't.
The routine was that Marie would ask him about his day, which Rock would happily tell her, unless he'd been picked on. Those were times when he'd cry, and she'd cry with him. Sometimes he'd crawl into the bed with her, on any occasion, good or bad. The room was usually full of beautiful flowers, and it was the boy's job, taken upon of his own choice, to make sure they were watered properly and received enough sunlight. Which, speaking of sunlight, the curtains were usually drawn, to allow those warm rays to spill in, the exception being rainy days of course. Every day, Marie would help him with his homework as best she could, since he always brought his backpack, but one thing Rock loved doing most was reading to her. She liked reading, he remembered, because he used to see her doing it often. And when he was younger, at bedtime she read stories to him. Now it was his turn! To see that beautiful, happy smile of hers, it made everything okay again, no matter how mean other kids had been to him...
This particular day had started like any other. At 3 o'clock, Rock left school and headed for the hospital. His mother had been in pain lately; the doctors said she was getting worse. But Rock had a brand new story to read to her, a present from his teacher, one that he was certain would cheer her up and make her feel better.
As always, he waved to Melanie the nurse at the front desk, who waved back with her bright smile before continuing to talk to someone on the phone. For part of the elevator ride up, Rock shared it with a doctor who kept giving him strange looks, and it made the boy nervous; but neither said anything, and finally the doors opened on the fifth floor. To which Rock was grateful. A quick turn to the left. Down the hall, eyes shifting left and right to the numbers beside each door, until--finally. Room 514.
That little hand closed around the knob, turning it, but when he opened the door and stepped inside, he froze.
There was a man in the room with his mother. A strange man, one he'd never seen before. He wasn't a doctor, or Rock didn't think he was, since he wasn't wearing the right clothing; instead a finely-pressed black business suit. Short blond hair, slicked back, and icy blue eyes that left a terrified urge to run within the boy's small body. The overbearing male was seated on the edge of the hospital bed, leaned over. Those powerful arms were wrapped securely around Marie, to hold her protectively to him. He didn't seem mindful of the IVs attached to her, but then again if she felt pain from them she said nothing about it. For a moment, Rock thought he saw a few tears glistening in his half-closed eyes.
It was Marie who first noticed her son's presence, or the first who showed that she'd noticed. She opened her mouth as if to speak, however no sound came out. Her ruby optics shifted tiredly from Rock, to the man hugging her, and back. And yet, despite that she was crying, her expression didn't look sad or hurt. No...
She looked happy, relieved. This was the happiest that Rock had seen her in a long time, comparable only to moments when she'd tell him about the wonderful, loving father who'd disappeared before their son was old enough to remember him.
The scene dragged on for minutes, that felt more like eternities to the boy. He knew he shouldn't be in here, he felt intrusive. Something kept him rooted to the spot, attention fixated on the man across the room from him. When finally the businessman gently laid Marie back on the bed, he brushed a kiss to her lips and uttered a soft, "I love you" that Rock wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard(But did.). Then he waited until the German woman was asleep to carefully stand up, avoiding disturbing her, and when he turned towards Rock and the door those blue eyes fell upon the boy's wide red ones; a set which mirrored his mother's.
Silence. Heavy, even suffocating. Just silence exchanged between the two. Before he could react, the man was upon him after a stride across the spotless floor, and if it were possible Rock's body stiffened further. The other must have noticed this. He didn't leave, immediately; nor did he drop that gaze to the boy a second time. A hand did lift, digits flexing uncertainly.
Rock flinched. When the bare hand came down, it was atop his head, to give a surprisingly gentle ruffle to the child's golden mop. Then he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him.
That simple gesture was the first and last memento that Geese Howard gave to his son Rock Howard.