Chapter 8: Check

Linor

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Linor,

Look, I get it. Dad's sick. I know it's bad, but I honestly don't give a shit. I'm done with our lovely parents. I'm not going to come back because it'll just be like before I left. I'm not going to be the son they want, they aren't going to be the parents I want, and that's that. I'm done with them. If Dad dies, I'm sorry. I know how much that's going to suck for you, but I won't care. For me, he's already dead.

I'm not done with you. You've always been a great sister, and I don't want to ruin our relationship just because of my relationship with Mom and Dad. I want you to feel like you can come to me with problems, and, in most cases, I'll do whatever I can. This isn't one of those cases. I can't deal with them. I'm sorry.

How's James? He's ignoring my letters, and I'm worried he's getting involved with the wrong things. I would rather he became Dad then Uncle Matthias. I know you shouldn't have to watch out for him, but please do. He's too smart to get wrapped up in that stuff.

I hope that Dad gets better; I really do, but only for your sake. If something happens, I'll be here for you.

Love you, sis.

David

The letter arrives at breakfast on Monday. I want to tear it up. The selfish prick! How dare he claim to care when he won't even do a single bloody thing! James is attempting to read over my shoulder and I'm tempted to let him. He should see how he looks to everyone else. He's become even more distant than normal. I don't. What does David's stupid opinion matter?

I get it. I know why he's like this. He's rebelling. He desperately wants to be his own person, and my parents don't like it. He's always had more expectations placed on him than James or me. He's the heir. The Grayson name passes through him. And in this backwards blood obsessed society, that matters more than most things. He wants to travel the world; they want him to stay here. For my brother, more independent that even I am, this means that, at the first possible chance, he had to leave. And he did. I almost wish I could, too.

I can't. Dad and I are too close. As much as Mom can be a pain, I couldn't leave my father behind. It seems now, however that this may not be an issue. I haven't heard any news about the sickness. The letters don't give details about that, probably intentionally. I'm tense every moment waiting for the bad news. I know it's coming, it's inevitable.

Jones continues to pester me. I don't understand why he can't just take a hint. It's over between us. It always will be. It's not even about the stupid Billy thing anymore. He's just not good for me.

"So what selfish crap did David spout?" James says as we walk down the hall.

"He said that he's not going to go see Dad."

"Not surprising. At least Dad isn't sick anymore, so…"

"You know it'll come back as well as I do. He also said to keep you from doing whatever crap you're doing."

"God, when will you two realize that I'm not dabbling in drugs or dark magic? I'm just playing Quidditch and hanging out with friends."

"And mysteriously disappearing at random times." Before he can answer, Jones appears at the end of the hall. "Not again," I say grabbing James and heading down another hall.

"I do not disappear, and what…oh Wilson. You should just forgive him already."

"No, he only wants my friendship to lift his guilt."

"Well, talk about that with him. I'm going to go disappear." He hurried ahead leaving me alone. Surreptitiously, I make my way around and towards the dungeons. I manage to get to Transfiguration without running into him. Maybe James is right, but I won't cave. He's not worth it.

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The letter arrives at breakfast on Tuesday. I'm eating a piece of toast as Josiah, the family owl, swoops down and deposits it in front of James and me. It's addressed to both of us. I know instantly what's inside. I stare at the letter for a long time, as though if I delay opening it, it will change. James doesn't even notice. I feel like punching him. Doesn't he care? Doesn't he know what this means.

I cautiously pick up the envelope and turn it over. The Grayson family seal is emblazoned on the back. I run my finger over it before breaking it to open the letter

Darlings,

I'm sorry to have to be writing this letter, but it is important that you are not kept in the dark. A couple weeks ago, your father began to feel his symptoms again. We rushed to St. Mungo's, of course, and they gave him some potions, but it has not had any affect. Last night, it was recommended that he return to full time care at the hospital. Please do not worry, he will beat this again. I have secured permission from your new headmistress to have you two out here this Saturday to see him. He will greatly appreciate it.

Love as Always,

Mother

How can she sound so calm and formal about this? I was right. He's going to die. It's starting now. James finally looks over to me. "Is that from Mom?" he says incredulously.

"Yeah, Dad's back at St. Mungo's," I say calmly, but not like Mom. Mom is pretending it's not happening. I've just gone numb.

"What?" He grabs the letter from my hand and scans it quickly. "No, see he's fine. He'll be out of there in no time."

"James, this letter is from our mother, the same woman who refused to acknowledge it when David left. This is the same woman who wouldn't go to her own father's funeral. She is trying to pretend it's not happening, just as she's done this whole time."

"Look, you're overreacting…"

"Am I?" I yell. I instantly look around. I'd forgotten where I am. People stare, some more intently than others. At the Ravenclaw table, I see Jones. He sees me looking and gives me a knowing look. I feel like punching him. I fly out of the hall. My brain is going crazy. As much as I felt I was prepared for this, I'm not. No one can ever be. It's happening, and I'm stuck in this stupid school! Saturday cannot come fast enough.

"Linor are you okay?" Jones calls, catching up to me.

"Why the hell do you care? Can you please just leave me be?"

"No, I care about you. Is your Dad sick again?"

"Of course. That's what happens. It comes back, and then they die."

"I'm sorry."

"You really aren't."

"Don't tell me how I feel."

"I say the same to you. This is absolutely none of your business."

"You're my business, so by extension…"

"No! I'm not! I'm not your friend. You have no business worrying about me."

"But you were."

"I'm aware, but you seem to not realize that "were" is past tense."

"And you don't seem to realize that we can be friends again."

"Why? Why do you want to be friends again?"

"Because you get me. You're the one person who knows where my head is when even I'm lost."

"No, I'm not. I have no idea what's in your head. I have no idea what's causing you to stalk me trying to make me your friend. I have no idea why you can't seem to realize that I just want to be left alone."

"No, you don't. That's the secret. You want someone with you more than anything. You have no friends; your brothers don't understand you. All you have is your Dad, and he's dying. I get it, but you don't seem to. You need me just as much as I need you."

He's right, and I hate it. I know I need somebody. I can't be an island, but I'm not giving him that satisfaction. I walk away. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of it all. As childish as it sounds, it's just not fair. I want something good to happen, but I know full well it won't.

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He is reading an extremely thick novel when I enter the room. I remember the one he finished during the summer. Always an optimist, he looks at this as time to catch up on his reading. Does he get it? Does he realize how little time he has left?

"Hi, Daddy," I say from the door. He's in a private room tucked into the bed. He looks paler than the last time I saw him.

"Hello to you as well, baby girl." I don't know how to feel. I'm so happy to see him, but at the same time, my heart is heavy. This could be it.

"How you feeling, Dad" James calls from behind me. I'd forgotten he was there.

"Unfortunately, not well. I'm afraid that I may be dying." I almost lose it. I shut my eyes to prevent tears.

"You'll be fine, Dad. You beat this once; you can do it again."

"I hope." There's so much I want to say, but I can't. Words won't come out. I just stare at this man who means everything to me. I want to tell him everything that's inside of me but I can't. I'm not strong enough.

"I know, darling," he says looking at me, "I love you too." I turn and leave the room. I don't want him to see me cry which is stupid. He's seen me cry before, but I have to be strong so he can be. I can't give up on him. I'm wandering going nowhere. I need so much to not be here, but at the same time, there's nowhere else I could possibly be. I wander back to his door. James has left.

"Your brother went to grab something from a snack cart."

"Oh," I reply still unable to find the right words.

"Sometimes, Linor, it's okay to have nothing to say." I approach my father and sit in the chair by the bed.

"Dad, I don't want you to die." That's it. Everything. It seems so simple now that I've said it out loud.

"I don't want to die either, but sometimes, you don't have control. Sometimes you have to give up and hope that whatever you've done was enough."

"I don't think those words of wisdom work on life as a whole."

"Of course they do. I've have a great life raising my beautiful children, and there's nothing more I can ask for." I consider these words. Has he done enough? Will I be okay? I don't see how I can be. I feel like my life is being ripped from me. We sit in silence for a long time. Just sit. And knowing that this could be it, knowing this could be my last chance to say anything I need to say, that's enough.

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Jones is waiting outside of Professor O'Neely's office when James and I return to through the fireplace. "How is he?" he says to me.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I want him to be okay, so that you can be okay."

"He's fine," I respond curtly.

"It's okay to feel things, Linor."

"So now were criticizing me?"

"You can't keep it all bottled up. It's okay to talk about it. It's okay to cry about it. It's a big deal."

"And you want me to talk about it to you. So that you can feel better."

"For the love of God, Linor! Why can't you just accept the fact that you matter to me. Why can't you see that I just want you to be okay?"

"Because you don't, Jones. You want to feel better about yourself. You want to feel that you didn't screw up as bad as you did. You don't want to have the blood from our fallout on your hands. Well, it doesn't matter. It's there, buddy. You broke us, and we can't be fixed."

"Says who? Why can't we just move on?"

"And you prove my point. You just proved to me that you care only about our relationship. You just proved that this isn't about you caring about me. It's about you. Everything you do is about you. What's going on with my father, however, has nothing to do with you, so stop shoving yourself where you don't belong."

"That's not fair. You're twisting my words."

"Am I?"

"Yes! I care about you; therefore, I care about our relationship. They're not mutually exclusive. In fact, they're distinctly inclusive. As I said before, we need each other. We're the only ones who understand how to get past the screwed up parts of each other."

"Well, I think we're just too screwed up to work. I'm sorry."

"No, you're giving…"

"Jones, I don't have the energy to deal with this. My dad is dying, and that's taking up all the room I have in my emotions. I don't have space for dealing with you. Please, just leave me be."

"No."

"Fine." I leave. I'm so sick of these conversations. Why can't he just listen to me? This would be so much easier if he was wrong. He gets me more than anyone else, but it's that knowledge of each other that makes us not work. In a way, despite the incredibly stupid way he did it, he helped me give up on Billy. It just hurts too much to be seen and understood so completely. It's too hard. I don't have the strength right now. I have too much else to deal with.

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David,

Dad's back at St. Mungo's. I know you don't care, but I think you should know. I don't think he has much time left; this is your last chance. Don't let things go unsaid because you'll regret it forever.

Linor

I send the letter after Breakfast on Monday. I mean every word. I think David will regret it if he doesn't talk to Dad, but, at the same time, I know he won't. He's too stubborn. He won't forgive Dad long enough to say goodbye. Mom won't admit that Dad's going to die. Dad won't stop fighting this until the very end. James won't stop doing things that are going to bite him in the end. I won't let Jones back in even though part of me wants to. Stubbornness runs in the family.