Prompt 5 - lift
In the days when they first brought him home, Credence had wanted to explore his new surroundings. He would cling to the doorframe for support, shaking and gasping as he struggled to draw air into his lungs. At best he could manage a few steps on his own before collapsing and needing someone to lift him off the floor.
Those days were short lived as his health began to fail. Nowadays, Credence didn't even have the strength to lift his head off the pillow, leaving his family to wonder how he was still alive.
Three months passed, with Aberforth doing all he could to care for his ailing son. During one of his visits, Albus suggested that he find something pleasant to occupy his thoughts. Something simple, so he wouldn't have to worry so much. It sounded ridiculous. How could he possibly concentrate on something that didn't involve his son?
"What other passions and hobbies do you have?" Albus queried, hoping to spark some inspiration in his younger sibling. "Imagine something that you enjoy, then think about how it could benefit your son."
Aberforth thought about this for a while. "Goats," he replied, causing his brother to smile and pat him on the back.
"I can't wait to see the results of this endeavor," said Albus. There was a glimmer of light shining in the depths of his sapphire eyes, as if he already knew the answer his brother would provide.
.oOo.
Later that night, when Aberforth returned to his son's room to keep him company while he slept, he brought with him a supply of fabric, a needle and thread, and some stuffing. Night after night, as he sat beside Credence's bed keeping watch over him in the evenings, he would cut and stitch pieces of material until at last his project was finished.
"Aurelius," he softly murmured, waiting patiently as his son slowly began to wake up. These days Credence was almost always asleep, waking only for meals, potions and occasional trips to the bathroom. It took some time before he was able to respond, turning his head in the direction of his father's voice. "I have something for you. I made it myself, son."
"Hmm?" Credence looked at him, barely managing to keep his eyes open. His father presented him with a stuffed goat, placing it beside him on the mattress.
The stuffed animal had a ragged appearance, though it was strangely cute, despite the obvious flaws in its design. Its fur was light brown with a patch of white on its face and side. A few loose strings hung from its left ear, its front limbs were overstuffed, and the body wasn't exactly symmetrical. And yet it was charming in its own special way, a gift that had been carefully crafted with love.
A smile tugged on the corners of his lips as Credence reached for the toy and curled his arm around it, holding it against his chest. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse from disuse.
It wasn't much, but this toy meant the world to him. It was the first time someone in his family had given him a gift, a sign that Aberforth truly cared about him. And although he wasn't able to cure his son's illness, he could still make him smile, lifting his spirits while helping him make it through another day.