A/N: I've kind of been obsessed with Sleeping At Last's music recently, the lyrics are just so... Artistic. Like poetry. If I could write even as half as good as that I'd be a happy person indeed. So the lyrics in this Chapter come from 'Light'. I hope you enjoy!
The room was so quiet that the silence seemed to be screaming in Kyle's eardrums. He sat up slowly, his pulse suddenly, inexplicably rising. The hair on his arms stood on end as he slipped out of bed, all the while staring across the room at his son's crib. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He was still for a brief moment, and then threw himself across the room towards his Sam. He looked down at the infant, his heart now hammering in his ears.
The colour had drained from Sam's usually rosy complexion, and his breathing was rapid. Kyle instinctively reached for his baby, tears already sliding down his cheeks. In his arms, the baby was floppy, and he didn't respond as Kyle cried his name over and over, begging his child to wake.
Somehow, with Sam clutched to his chest, he staggered to the living room, scrabbling for the cell phone he'd left sitting on the coffee table. Dropping to his knees, he called 911, sobbing down the line that he needed an ambulance now.
"911, what's your emergency?" A smooth female voice answered.
"I think my son is dying!" He screamed down the phone, his voice filled with desperation. Their was a moment's pause before the other end answered.
"Sir, where are you? What's your name?" Trying to catch his breath, Kyle gave his name and address. "Alright sir, there's an ambulance on the way. How old is your son? Is he breathing? Can you check for me?"
"He's only five months old, God, please hurry," He laid Sam on the floor and bent down, desperate to hear his little snuffling breaths again. "He's breathing, he's breathing, but badly. Please help me, where's the ambulance?"
"It won't be long, sir." The voice soothed. "What's your son's name?"
"S-Sam,"
"That's a lovely name. Two of the best paramedics are on their way and I've alerted the paediatrics department at the hospital. Please try to remain calm, and stay on the line until the ambulance arrives, okay?" Kyle was no longer listening. All he could focus on was Sam's ragged breathing, and the wailing of sirens in the distance.
He had the door unlocked and open before the paramedics had even reached the door, and was back on the floor next to his son, stroking the wisps of his dark hair from his face. The younger of the two paramedics crouched down beside them, giving Kyle a reassuring smile.
"Who have we here then?" She asked, already slipping a tiny oxygen mask over Sam's little face.
"This is Sam," Kyle said shakily. "He's five months... I found him like this in his crib, all floppy and pale and I didn't know what to do..." The other paramedic patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.
"Is Sam's mom here? You only look young yourself, kid. What's your name?" Shaking with fear, Kyle only had eyes for Sam.
"I-I'm Kyle. And no, she's not here. She..." He swallowed. "She left just after Sam was born. It's just me and him. Please, please tell me he won't die!"
"We'll do our best, Kyle. Let's get this little man in the ambulance, hm?"
"Ky?" Stan's voice broke the redhead from his reverie as he called from down the corridor. "Ky, what the hell happened? What's wrong with Sam?" Kyle stood, and when Stan was close enough, he flung his arms around his friend's shoulders, sobbing. He had never been so scared and alone in all his life, and he didn't care about what he looked like right now. Stan pushed Kyle away gently, looking in his eyes with a fearful expression on his face. "Ky, please tell me. What's wrong with Sam?"
"He's in intensive care," Kyle choked, collapsing onto the hard plastic chair he had only just vacated. "They think he might have meningitis." He looked up at Stan, tears staining his cheeks. "Babies die from meningitis, Stan. They die." Stan slid into the seat next to Kyle's, looking shocked.
"But he was fine!" He said, his voice rising. "I only left you guys a few hours ago, and he was okay then! Are they sure?" Kyle nodded miserably.
"I thought that too. They said that babies can get sick like that," He clicked his fingers to get his point across. "They said his limbs could get infected, that he could lose an arm, a leg, and that's not even the worst that could happen!" He put his head in his hands. "They won't even let me stay with them while they run their fuckin' tests. I just want to be with him. I'm all he has, I'm the most important person in his life-" It was at that moment that he felt it. That ridiculous, all encompassing, unstoppable wave of love towards his child. It was a force strong enough to force him to his knees. "And he's the most important person in my life," He whispered, his face suddenly losing some of it's sorrow. "I need to see him. I have to see him. Stan, will you stay here? I'll be back. I need to tell my son that I love him."
A half hour later, Kyle was sitting at his son's bedside, stroking his cheek with a gloved finger, and singing through a surgical mask.
"With every heartbeat I have left
I will defend your every breath,
And I'll do better.
Cause you are loved,
You are more loved than you know.
I hereby pledge all of my days
Just to prove it so." It was a song he hadn't listened to for years, but the lyrics had come flooding back at the sight of his tiny, fragile son, lying in a hospital cot covered with wires and drips and heartbeat monitors. The doctors said he'd had a seizure, and that he'd been a little hypoxic, but that he was stable for now. With a little luck, they'd said, Sam would survive, but no one could yet say what the lasting damage would be.
Luck, luck luck. Kyle raised his eyes skyward, trying to blink the tears away. "I don't deserve it, I know," He whispered, to no one in particular, and yet everyone that would listen. "I've been the luckiest person in the world, having Sam as my own. And I didn't appreciate it, but I do now. I get it now, I swear. Please don't take him from me, please." As if he'd said some sort of magic incantation, it was at that moment that Sam's eyelids fluttered. He opened one emerald green eye, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hospital, and then the other. For a long moment, he stared at Kyle as his eyes adjusted, before his face split into a weak, toothless smile. Kyle beamed back at him, the only two members of their small team, and his heart surged with love and pride.
The familiar sound of heels in the background brought Kyle out of his reverie. He turned, and his smile turned to an expression of astonishment as Sheila and Gerald strode towards him.
"Ma? Dad?" Before he knew what had happened, his mother had swept him up in a bear-hug. His arms automatically tightly wound around Sheila, and for a few seconds time stood still, as mother and son embraced for the first time in over six months. When she finally released him, Kyle turned to his father, who clapped him on the shoulder.
"Stanley called," He explained, answering the question before Kyle had even asked. "He told us what happened, and we didn't want you to be alone at a time like this." The teenager raised an eyebrow.
"Y'know I've been on my own since Sam was born, pa. I mean, you kicked me out, and Sasha left," He took the seat next to his son again, who had since fallen asleep again. "I've kinda had to go it alone." He finished softly.
"I'm sorry, Kyle," Sheila spoke in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I just had such high expectations of you, and finding out that you were becoming a father at sixteen was such a shock for me. Will you ever forgive me?" Kyle reached out a hand and stroked Sam's fingers gently. Turning slowly in the chair, he looked up at his parents with misted eyes, forcing a smile.
"I'm really glad you came, mom. And I think it's about time you met your grandson." He turned back to the baby, asleep once more. "This is Sam."
"What's wrong with him?" Asked Gerald, moving forward to take a closer look at the tiny infant. "Have the doctors said anything?"
"He had blood tests and a lumbar puncture, but the results of that haven't come back yet. They're pretty sure it's meningitis, but I won't know for sure until then." Kyle sighed, not taking his eyes away from Sam. "He has a temperature, and he's had a seizure. The doctor told me that there's a ton of complications, some of them debilitating, but no matter how bad things are, me and Sam will face it together." The family were silent for a few moments. Gerald rested a gentle hand on Kyle's shoulder.
"We'll be there too, son. I promise."
A/N: Not particularly long I know, but I've hit a bit of a block. It'll probably only be one or two chapters more after this. I have something else planned, something that I hope will be a bit better. I never plan what I write, and then it goes of on a tangent and I have no idea where I'm going so I just sort of let them fizzle out...
Thanks for reading. I'd really appreciate a review. I'm pretty sure people are reading this because of the traffic stats, which is awesome, and it'd be great to know what you think.
I'd love to be able to draw, because I really want to draw a picture of Kyle and his son, I think it'd be adorableness itself.
Anyways, thanks for reading!
