Marc taking forever to update? What? When has that ever happened?

So, I'm almost TWO YEARS behind on updating this bad boy. Quite frankly, I'd be amazed if anybody remembers this story, let alone hoped it'd get finished. But it will. And in the interest of not lying to you all, I swear that this story will be finished by Valentine's Day. Why such a specific day? Not because I'm theming the ending of this or anything, but because the end of February is far away, and the end of January may be cutting it close for me. So somewhere in the middle, hey, Valentine's Day.

Likewise, by way of length, I can, as of this chapter, tell you it'll be somewhere between 10 and 12 chapters. I'll get more specific later.

Anyhoo, thanks to FanaticMarioMan, FierceDeityLinkMask, and darkdoll25 for reviewing last chapter! Do you guys remember you did? It was back in 2015 when I wasn't the worst at updating, so I'd understand if you've forgotten this story.

Feel free to hate me.

The walls of a hospital give me an uneasy feeling. I should look at this place as somewhere that's supposed to heal people. A hospital is built with the goal of saving lives. Unfortunately for me, that means I also just see this place as a building of failures. When people close to me go here, they don't come out. I understand that's childish. But it's still present enough to make me want to look around and just shake my head.

I'm not afraid of hospitals. I just resent them.

I was behind Zelda, who was at the counter asking for Groose's room number. I looked around the entrance to see any reason for me not to be here. Instead, I found people; people who I assume are here to wait for their friends and family. I saw an older woman, probably in her forties sitting with a boy, who would guess is 11, sitting on a couch. The boy was playing a video game and the mother was just staring at the plant situated on the table beside her. Her pensive face, with the boy's disregard for where he is led me to believe whatever family member is here isn't a shoe-in for walking out.

There was also a young man dressed like he went home after work and quickly changed to get here. He looked like he was fresh out of college. He sat restlessly in his chair and was switching between resting his head in his hands and checking the clock. Somebody is about to be a dad.

I felt Zelda turn to me. She gave me the same soft, reassuring look she'd been giving me since we'd come onto the hospital's block. I genuinely appreciated her concern, but I couldn't bring myself to be totally ok with this, even for her.

"Room 230, ok?" She said, knowing I hadn't been listening to the nurse.

"230." I repeated with a nod and a half smile. Zelda grabbed my hand and started walking. The walls just blurred by as we walked towards the elevator. I purposely tried not to listen to any conversations that were going on, not wanting to get any sort of misconstrued judgement of what Groose's situation was. I didn't want to hear somebody say how great the doctor's were and try to relate that to Groose. And I didn't want to hear the opposite, either.

As Zelda and I waited for the elevator, a third person came and stood beside us. Glancing to the side, I saw it was a man in some sort of maintenance uniform, probably a worker for the hospital. The three of us all got into the elevator, Zelda hitting the second floor button and the man hitting the third floor. It took me a minute, but I eventually realized I knew the man. He always sat in the back of the bus on my way home. Everyday, he sat in the same seat and just looked out the window like he might fall asleep any second. I wondered if I should tell him I recognized him.

I decided against bringing it up. While Rauru was friendly and willing to chat, this man seemed more focused on just doing his job and going home. The thought disappointed me a bit. Maybe it's just because Zelda was interested in them, but I found myself getting interested too. I guess I'm just like he is though. I'm in this place acting like I'm just hear to clock out at the end. I'm going to face my cousin at his weakest moment and I'm acting like this is a chore. I'm acting like I'm above it.

And it's only because I'm terrified. I'm going to be forced to move on, with no chance of going back. He's not going to make it. Groose will not get the opportunity to outlive me. And I'm blaming him for it. His death will mean I have to move on, whether I feel like I've grown or not. I'm not being given time to think and acting like the time I've wasted is somebody else's fault. If I was Zelda, I would've slapped me too.

"Ready?"

I came out of my thoughts and saw we were in front of room 203. The door was cracked open, but I still couldn't bring myself to step in. Zelda must've assumed this because she squeezed my hand and took a step towards the door. I tugged slightly, but Zelda only paused a moment then continued inside, bringing me with her.

Inside was a standard hospital room. A bed with a curtain that could be drawn around it, monitors and machines behind the bed, a tv across from the bed and a wardrobe below that. In the bed was something I wouldn't have been able to prepare myself for.

It was Groose, but it was nothing like the Groose I knew. Groose had always been a muscular guy, wasting no time in telling you so. He had bright red hair that he always styled in ways I always found ridiculous, like trying to bring the pompadour back. He had a dopey grin and sharp yellow eyes. Now, it's clear just how much the cancer and the treatment took a toll on the body. Groose's muscles were all gone. His face had lost so much weight, his cheekbones stuck out more. His arms were also much skinnier, rivaling my had tubes running into both of his arms, tied to bags hung up beside him. His vibrant, wild hair was now completely gone, probably taking a foot off of his height. His eyes now drooped in the corners, making him look like he would pass out from exhaustion any second, even though he was simply laying in bed. And his naturally tan complexion he shared with my Aunt Impa had now turned into a much paler, almost green, version of what it once was.

Despite all of this, when he turned and saw me, his eyes widened and I saw him weakly smile.

"Wow." He said. His booming baritone voice, while not losing too much, now sounded like it was coming out through gravel. "I'll be honest, I figured I wouldn't see you again."

"Hey Groose."

He adjusted slightly, trying to sit up more. "Hey Link. You just missed my mom, she left about 10 minutes ago." He grabbed the remote beside him and turned off the TV. "That's probably good though, she's been having serious mood swings when she thinks about you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, sometimes she's angry you don't come, sometimes she's sad, and sometimes she's glad you're shielding yourself. Makes my head hurt trying to react to her mood."

"I see."

Groose looked to Zelda and smiled at her. It was supposed to be his seductive smile, but he always showed so much teeth, he looked like he was trying to show off his brushing ability. "Hey there, who might you be?"

Zelda gave a polite smile. "I'm Zelda, I'm Link's friend."

Groose gave an airy chuckle. "I'd be careful with that, he might be more trouble than he's worth."

Zelda giggled along with him. "I don't think so, I enjoy having him around."

"I see that." Groose responded, looking at our hands that were still locked together. Zelda suddenly let go and clasped her hands together behind her back. She began blushing, and tried to get the attention off of her.

"I-I have to use the restroom, you two catch up." She said and quickly excused herself.

Groose followed her as she left the room, then looked at me. "She's cute."

I nodded wordlessly. With Groose and I not having seen each other in almost three years, there was a lot we could've talked about. We could've talked about the past, we could've talked about what's been going on in our lives, we could've even talked about the weather. But we chose instead to just bask in the silence. He looked at me and around the room as nonchalantly as possible, while I looked out the window and occasionally stole glances of my cousin.

Knowing I shouldn't waste his time or my own, I eventually set out to talk to him. This isn't a chore, this is my cousin. My self-centered, arrogant, narcissistic cousin. My dying cousin.

"How are you doing?" I said, knowing the answer.

Groose waited a few seconds then raised his arms, showing the tubes. "Been better. How about you?"

"I'm alright." I replied, turned to finally face him.

"That's good." He said, nodding.

"I'm sorry for not visiting sooner." I said, trying to be formal.

"Doesn't matter much to me, it's mom you should apologize to." He shrugged.

"Didn't matter to you?" I grumbled, slightly upset.

Groose shook his head. "Nope."

That actually hurt more than I thought it would've, but I should've expected it. What I really didn't expect was what he said next.

"I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you never wanted to see me again."

I was prepared to argue, but that statement caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

Groose turned his head to look out the window. "I was a big ass to you, you know." When I didn't say anything in response, he continued. "I picked on you, hit you, blamed you for things you didn't do, got you in trouble with mom, and just really didn't think twice about any of it. Remember that time I spilled soda on the carpet and told mom you did it? You got grounded for a month. And any time you tried to tell her the truth, I'd twist your arm until you gave up that day. Hell, I don't blame you for sprinting out the house for college like you did."

"I remember." I said, unsure of what else I could add.

"But I think the worst thing I did was something you never had proof of. It was that I didn't regret doing any of it to you. I knew I got off scot-free, so I didn't care about the rest."

"I assumed as much."

"I bet you did." Groose looked back at me. "But that changed. And no, not cuz I got cancer. I regretted it all the week after you left for school. Cuz I thought about what you said before you left."

I looked away trying to remember that final day before moving out. I remember emptying my room, I remember stopping for pizza, and I remember the music I listened to. But I don't remember anything regarding Groose.

"You don't remember? Eh, that's not too surprising. I didn't even think about it much then either. Like I said, it was a week after it really hit me. Mom gave you a hug and I just looked at you and said, 'Bye'. You didn't even look at me and just said, 'Yeah.'"

"'Yeah'?" I asked.

Groose nodded. "I know you probably just said it without thinking, but that's what really hit me. You didn't even want to say bye. You didn't want to end your time with me. You just wanted to move past it so quickly it'd be like it never happened. A goodbye would've been like saying 'See you never!' But instead you said, 'I can't wait to forget you.'"

I felt guilt shoot through me faster than anything words came to mind.

"And at first, it made me mad." Groose paused, closing his eyes. He took some deep breaths, then looked at me again. "I wanted to yell at you to get over yourself or to suck it up, shit happens. But when I saw you weren't there when I got home from my job or at our dinner table, it made me realize it was because you didn't feel like you should be. I never let my home be your home. And so I felt guilty. You may not know this, but I can feel guilty sometimes. So I considered trying to visit you or something. But I thought it may not end well. We can both be pretty proud, Link, you know?"

I just nodded a little, keeping a straight face.

"From there, I found myself thinking about you a lot. You didn't know your mom or dad. Granny took care of you, then we lost her real quick. Then you came to live with us. You lost two homes, but didn't cry. You didn't blame anybody. Then you had to deal with me for, what 5 years?"

"8 years." I corrected, immediately wishing I hadn't said anything. But Groose just nodded.

"8 years. 8 years of my crap being thrown at you, and not once did it slow you down. You weren't beaten down or a crybaby. You didn't take your anger out on other people, you just fought me sometimes. That's when I realized how I really saw you."

Groose and I locked eyes. "I see you as one of my heroes."

I felt shaken, but also really confused. "What do you mean?"

"Look, I was the bad guy. I know that now. But you didn't let me slow you down. You're still in school, you're working hard, you're going places. Places I would never go. Places I will never go. When I said it didn't matter to me, I meant that you weren't here sooner. I don't care when you came, but I'm happy you're here at all."

"Look, Groose…" I began, but he cut me off. His voice didn't have force, but the fact that he wanted to keep talking held a lot of weight.

"Link, I want to apologize. I wasn't sure I'd get the chance, but now that you're here, I want to. This isn't crazy talk from a guy who doesn't want to die, this is me being honest in that I regret the way I treated you, and I wish I could take it back. You didn't deserve it and I was wrong. I'm sorry."

I stared at him for what seemed like forever. He just looked back at me with relief. That must've really been weighing on his mind for a long time. He seemed glad to get it all out. He looked like he wasn't apologizing to save face or to make Aunt Impa happy, he was apologizing because he wanted to. Groose had grown up. Something I couldn't do. I hated Groose at age 10, and I hated Groose at age 20. He agrees with me that he sucked, but I couldn't even move on after I hadn't seen him in years. I cover my eyes and pretend I'm not doing anything wrong.

How can I justify trying to help people like Zelda when I refused to help myself? I could've moved on, not carried my anger. I could've saved Pipit from getting phone calls, I could've avoided hurting Zelda's feelings. Instead, I chose to let my fear of moving on justify a lingering hatred. I don't know how Groose could see me as a hero. I'm just a coward.

"You're not a bad person if you don't forgive me. I just wanted you to know."

That was when it hit me. I never missed my chance. It's time.

"I forgive you, Groose."