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Sage stands at the bedroom door and takes a slow, deep breath to try and prepare himself for what he’ll find on the other side. It’s been a while since he’s visited — much longer than he’d like to admit — but he can still imagine all too easily the horrible vision he’s about to walk into, and knows how much it will hurt. But there’s no way he can turn back. Not now.
Hand slightly trembling, Sage lifts a fist and knocks softly against the door.
“Come in,” his daughter’s slightly muffled voice calls out from the other side.
Sage opens the door slowly, and is instantly met with the vision of Callie rushing toward him, their floppy, feather-covered ears bouncing slightly with each step until they finally throw their arms around Sage.
“Thanks for coming, dad,” they whisper softly, burying their face into his shoulder. “She’s been asking for you.”
Sage nuzzles his beak gently on the top of his daughter’s feathered head, right between their ears, and gives them a tight squeeze. For now, he avoids looking at the frail figure on the bed in the center of the room. “How are you holding up, honey?” he asks.
“Not great,” Callie replies with a humorless chuckle. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Sage feels them pull away, and his heart sinks, because he knows he can’t avoid the real reason for his visit any longer. His glowing golden gaze finally falls on the bed, and there is suddenly a thousand-pound weight crushing against his chest. Because it’s all so horribly, heart-breakingly familiar — standing in a dimly-lit bedroom, just as youthful-looking and full of energy as he was back when Callie was born, watching helplessly as someone he cares about wastes away before his very eyes.
His grandparents and aunts, his dad, his sibling, and so many friends… Sage had lost them all. And now, he was about to lose the mother of his child too.
“Sage,” the frail old woman whispers fondly as he takes a few tentative steps toward the bed.
“Hey, Ang,” Sage replies, his voice thick with emotion. “How… How are you feeling?”
“Probably not much better than I look,” she replies with a teasing smile and, for a moment, Sage’s mind is transported back in time over a hundred years, to someone else who still managed to crack jokes, right up to the very end.
Sage shakes away the bittersweet thoughts of his father, instead forcing a smile as he takes a seat in the empty chair beside the bed.
Angie’s pale blue eyes look over Sage’s shoulder toward Callie, who still lingers by the door. “Do you mind giving us a few minutes alone, sweetie?” she asks softly.
Callie’s brow furrows slightly, but they nod. “Sure. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right outside if you need me though, okay?”
Angie smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”
After just the slightest hesitation, Callie finally turns and leaves the room, closing the bedroom door behind them with a soft thud.
“Thanks for coming, Sage,” Angie continues addressing him as soon as they’re alone, her voice straining slightly with effort. “I know I’m not very fun company these days, but I wanted to make sure I got the chance to talk to you before…” She lets her voice trail off, but Sage understands exactly what she means. How could he not?
Sage nods silently at her, still not quite sure what to say as he continues fighting back all the painful thoughts and memories that still swirl around in the back of his mind.
“I just… wanted to ask you something. A favor,” she explains.
“Of course,” Sage replies without hesitating. What else could he possibly say? “Anything.” Angie suddenly seems reluctant to reply, and Sage notices immediately. “I’m serious. Whatever you need. Just… tell me,” he urges gently.
The old woman sucks in a slow, shaky breath through her beaked lips. “It’s so selfish of me,” she admits, reaching out a paw to take his hand in hers. “But Sage, I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise that… that you won’t let Callie forget me.” Her voice is suddenly small. “Not in ten years, or a hundred, or a thousand. Please, I just… I’m so scared they’ll forget me.” Without warning, the old woman squeezes her eyes shut and several tears fall down her wrinkly, fur-covered cheeks.
“W-what?” Sage sputters as he watches her frail little body shake with sobs. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been this. Sage immediately feels the already-unbearable ache in his heart deepen as he remembers the reason why she has nothing to worry about. “Angie, you… you know that’s never gonna happen. For a lot of reasons…” There’s a sudden tightening in the back of his throat. “But especially because… Callie…” His voice shakes slightly as he says their name. “…isn’t gonna live forever. Not like me. You know that.”
Angie shakes her head, her tears still falling. “Yes, they are,” she insists softly.
“But they’re not…”
“Come on, Sage. Think about it — Callie hasn’t aged in over a hundred years. They should finally be starting to look older by now… but they don’t.”
Sage hesitates before replying. Angie does have a point — Callie is less than thirty years younger than their mother, and Angie had definitely looked older than Callie did now when she was their age… But there was just no way.
At last, Sage shakes his head. “Callie’s got more Goetia in them than you do,” he reminds Angie gently. “Maybe that means they’ll be around longer, but…”
“I’m telling you, they’re immortal,” Angie insists. “I can’t explain how, but I just… know. I can feel it.”
Once again, Sage doesn’t immediately reply. Could it be true? Was it possible that Sage’s worst fear — the unspeakable nightmare that had lurked in the back of his mind since before Callie was even born — wouldn’t come true after all? That after so many years of pain and loss, he wouldn’t have to lose the most precious person in his life after all? It all still felt too good to be true.
“I… I guess it’s possible,” he admits at last, still not quite sure he believes it.
“Then I’m gonna ask you again, Sage. Please, please don’t let Callie forget about me,” Angie pleads. Though her sobs have subsided, her eyes still sparkle with tears. “I can handle leaving them. I’ve… I’ve made peace with that. But I just can’t stand the thought of them forgetting about me…”
Sage gently squeezes the small paw he still holds in his hand. “Angie, listen to me — I will never, never let Callie forget you. You are their mother, and you’ll always be their mother. And they’ll always love you and remember you…” His voice trembles slightly with emotion. “I mean, my dad’s been gone over a hundred years now, and I still think about him every day. And I’ll never stop thinking about him.”
“I know,” Angie replies softly, a few tears falling down her cheeks once more. “But… your mom and your other dad… they were married to him. They loved him too. You all have each other to talk to… But who will Callie have, Sage? Dimitri’s been gone for years now…” The sorrow in her voice deepens at the mention of her late husband. “I don’t have any siblings, and my mother…”
“I know,” Sage replies with understanding. He’s never met Angie’s mother, but from what he’s heard, the woman is the polar opposite of Angie’s warm and loving Hellhound father, who had passed away many years ago. Her mother was exactly what you’d expect from most Goetian parents — cold, distant, and uncaring toward her own child.
Sage takes a breath before finally continuing. “But they’ll have me, Ang. Okay? I know you and I were never ‘together’ or anything, but you’re still so important to me,” he says seriously. “You’re one of my best friends. And…” He suddenly feels stinging in the corners of his eyes. “Fuck. I’m gonna miss you. So fucking much. And… and I’ll never forget you either,” he says as a few tears fall from his eyes.
“You promise?”
“I promise. Come on, Ang — you know how fucking awesome you are. Who could possibly forget you?” Sage smiles playfully at her through his tears.
Angie lets out a small laugh in response, but it’s noticeably weak and strained, and it’s clear that even their brief conversation has already taken a lot out of her. That realization simply twists the knife in Sage’s heart.
“I’m sorry,” Angie replies at last. “I know it was silly of me to make you come all the way here just for that. But I… I just knew I had to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she admits softly.
“It’s not silly,” he assures her. “And it’s been too long since I’ve stopped by anyway. I’ll try and do that more often.”
“You don’t have to. I know it’s probably not fun or easy to see me like this…”
Sage takes a breath. She’s not wrong, of course. But as he sits there thinking about it, he realizes just how terribly selfish he’s been. All of Angie’s Hellhound loved ones already died long ago, and the Goetias… none of them cared about her. All she had left now was Callie. And Sage had sat back and forced his child to bear the burden of watching their mother slip away all alone.
He finds himself thinking back once more to when he lost Milo all those years ago, and tries to imagine what it would have been like for his dad if he’d only ever had one visitor in his final weeks. Or for Sage himself if he hadn’t had his other parents or Emory to help him through it.
“You should get some rest,” he says at last, slowly rising to his feet but not letting go of her hand. “But I’m not going anywhere yet,” Sage assures her. “I’ll just go let Callie know they can come back in and sit with us too, okay?”
Angie nods and gives him a soft smile. “Thank you, Sage.”
He gently squeezes her hand before finally letting go. “You too, Ang. For everything.”
Sage wants to say more. He wants to explain to her all the things he’s grateful for — especially the more than a century of support raising and coparenting the amazing person who currently stood on the other side of the door. But he knows that if he tries, he’ll completely break down. And he doesn’t want to do that in front of Angie.
Sage finds Callie leaning up against the wall in the hallway, staring down at their phone and scrolling mindlessly. He can tell they aren’t really reading anything, just looking for something to occupy themselves from their grief and anxiety. It’s a position Sage has found himself in too many times before.
“Hey, Callie,” he says softly, grabbing their attention. “Thanks for giving us a minute. Your mom’s ready for you again, whenever you are.”
Callie nods slowly before speaking. “What did she want?”
Sage has absolutely no idea how to answer. But as he looks at Callie’s tired, grief-stricken face, he feels the strangest mixture of joy and sorrow bubbling up within his chest. Joy because of how much he loves his daughter, and how hopeful he is that Angie is right, and that he will never have to say goodbye to them. But that joy is tainted by an unbearable feeling of guilt at just how terribly unfair that would be.
Why should he get to spend the rest of eternity alongside his child while Angie couldn’t? She’d been a damn good mother to Callie for their entire life. What had she done to deserve to be ripped away from her own child? It just didn’t make sense. And it wasn’t fucking fair! To Angie or Emory or his dad or anyone else Sage had lost over the years. All of them should still be with their loved ones, where they belonged. Not a single one of them should have had to die.
It wasn’t fair to them. And it wasn’t fair to those left behind either, Sage realizes. But just as his mortal loved ones had no choice in the matter, neither did Sage or his parents or… Callie. Had he really passed the terrible curse onto them too?
It was just like Sage had tearfully told his dad all those years ago — he’d never asked for this. Sage had never asked to be immortal. But it was a curse he’d be forced to live with. Forever. And he’d spend the rest of eternity having to carry the crushing grief of every loss he’d experience along the way… or the guilt of slowly forgetting his loved ones as the decades and centuries wore on.
Sage can’t decide which is worse.
“Dad?” Callie’s soft voice calls Sage’s mind back to the present.
He opens his mouth to try to speak, but instead, a heavy sob spills from his beak. Sage wordlessly reaches out and pulls Callie against his chest, feeling the tears he’d been trying so hard to hold back finally begin to fall.