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Dr. Satik had tried. But Onisim was sure that he was done for.
He would have been even if it weren't for the burns. It took someone's will to keep living, he'd heard once. And the man was completely out of will.
Onisim felt like he could throw up. He wretched and gagged, even though his system was completely empty by now. The kind doctor tried to ease him onto his side, but the resulting cry of pain made him relent.
Once the worst of it was over, he was rolled onto his side. Some of the blisters had become infected a day or so ago, and that's when Onisim knew it was over. He couldn't bring himself to care.
Ms. Tatarinov had witnessed a great tragedy. Even greater than his own. Yet, when Onisim asked her about the boys she used to teach, she was able to give a rare smile.
"They're okay."
That was all he'd needed. As long as they were safe... He could pass on to the next life without regrets.
Dr. Satik left the room, and Onisim assumed he'd given up by now. At least he wouldn't die alone. He had not just the doctor, but Kir, Leonid, Dachi, Ms. Tatarinov, and so many others by his side to give him their goodbyes throughout the day. It was honestly all he could wish for.
...Through the haze, he could hear arguing. Dr. Satik and Kir.
"He can't handle-"
"Would you rather he die? What good is that fakeass oath if you won't put in the work to uphold it!"
Ah, Kir. The man was kind, but very strongly opinionated. He wouldn't allow for Onisim's assisted euthanization, threatening to turn the gun on Leonid if he would let such a thing occur.
The thought made him chuckle, and chuckling made him cough, and coughing made everything rise in flames of pain again. Damn, it was pathetic.
"Dad in there?"
Onisim's heart caught in his throat. There was no way.
That was his one wish, his one wish to not let the children see him die. His boys. Luka. Maxim. Surely he'd just heard things. Surely Kir wouldn't be so cruel.
The door creaked open, and twin boys with hair and eyes as black as their father's entered.
They were so young. Five years old. He'd enrolled them in kindergarten just last year. They struggled with words, even out of the toddler stage. They weren't brave at all. They cried every time Onisim dropped them off, and every time he picked them up.
His eyes were filled with horror as the boys' eyes landed on what remained of their father. He could see the tears forming already, and wished his tear ducts weren't destroyed so he could shed tears of his own.
All Onisim did was blink, and then the boys were by his side, being told by Dr. Satik to be gentle.
They cried as they hugged him. He cried too. Through the tears, he was able to make out one thing.
"Dad okay..."
His heart lurched in his chest. Dad wasn't okay, boys. Dad had become the monster under the bed. He couldn't bring himself to put those words into reality.
"I told them you were leaving."
Onisim narrowed his eyes at the man, at Kir. He'd opened up to the other. Confessed his deepest fears of his kids seeing his state. It hurt worse than the physical pain.
"Dad- Dad-" Luka sputtered out, and as if on cue, Maxim finished the thought.
"Don't go!"
It... Didn't hurt as much as it should have. He was ready for fear on his boys’ faces. He wasn't ready for love and sorrow to be equally mixed into something that left Onisim feeling more guilty than horrified.
"You- You left and Miss Tati said- said-"
"Said you was hurt!"
"Got a bandaids..."
Luka held up a small box of bandaids. Superman themed. Those were his favorites.
"So..."
"So don't go!"
Damn Kir. Damn that man who cared too much and his twisted ways of achieving the right thing. Onisim's heart ached deep in his chest, enough to make him enter a coughing fit. The boys cried out, and Onisim issued a mental thanks to the doctor for ushering them a couple feet away.
He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say that he couldn't. He was hurt too badly. But that spark had been lit once again, and a fire was beginning in his mind.
He needed to live.
He couldn't leave them. Not twice.
Even as his eyes slid shut, Onisim made a new wish.
Tell them he loved them. One last time.
When he woke up the next morning, sepsis steadily recovering, his boys hugged him so tight that he thought they'd pull his arms off.