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Flinging away his coat, Lilia yelled out, "I'm home~!"
He'd left on a trip a week ago. Seven days to the minute, and the longest trip since he took Silver in. Made a pit stop in the Queendom, then rested on the beaches of the Sunshine Lands for the remainder. Thankfully, no tan to be seen—although that would have been a fun surprise for Silver and Malleus.
No one had answered yet. Had he not been long enough? Lilia raised his head, curious, and found that Silver's outdoor shoes were neatly parked at the entrance.
Was he asleep?
"Silver?" he called out.
This time, he heard a faint sound. Did Silver's animal friends get inside the house again? He hadn't thought to warn him not to invite strangers—fae or animal—into the home, but Silver was thirteen years old already. That was nearly an adult in human years. He should know better.
Lilia walked in, and was unsurprised to find a little white bunny hopping around. In its mouth was a roll of white bandages—and not just that, the rest of Silver's first-aid kit laid strewn around the ground.
"What are you doing?" asked Lilia, baffled.
The bunny's ears twitched.
"You shouldn't play with that, little guy. It's for Silver." Lilia knelt down and went to take away the bandages, but the bunny leaped away, dropping the bandages in its hurry. It thumped its back feet against the ground. Loudly.
Why would Silver's well-behaved friend suddenly…
Lilia's scalp went numb.
"SILVER!" He jumped to his feet and rushed into the house. "Silver! Where are you!?"
The bunny ran alongside him then suddenly veered off into another room. Lilia's feet skid on the ground as he whirled around to follow. That was his bedroom—Lilia's! Why would Silver…?
There he was.
Silver.
Strewn out on the ground, unconscious.
Blood.
"Silver!" screeched Lilia. He rushed to kneel by Silver's side, displacing the surrounding animals. "Silver, what's wrong!?"
No answer—not even the flickering of an eyelid. Lilia's heart stopped: blood dripped down from a gash on his face, just above his right eyebrow. A pool had already formed beneath his head. His pale lips, and the look on his face… ghastly, eyes sunken, as if he'd already…
No.
No…!
Silver groaned faintly.
Lilia gasped. His heart finally kick-started.
"S… Silver," he said—whimpered. He didn't dare touch. "Silver? What…? How…?"
Head wounds bled more. The gash was barely anything, hardly longer than his fingernails. But what if something inside had been damaged? Internal bleeding. And how had he gotten injured? Did he fall asleep? But Silver had long since learned how to stay standing even when asleep. At the very least, he should have had enough willpower to get to safety. What happened?
Lilia had been warned many times not to use healing magic too often on his human son, but this time, he completely forwent the warning. After a lifetime of war, he had more than enough knowledge to heal a simple wound. Right? It should be fine.
Why were his hands shaking?
Silver groaned again. This time, his eyelids twitched.
"Silver? Silver, can you hear me? Don't move."
"Fa… Father…?" mumbled Silver. "You're… you're back." He tried to sit up, but his arms buckled under his weight. Lilia caught his head before it could smack down again. Pale eyelashes fluttered shut. "How long has it… been…?"
"Don't move," said Lilia.
Silver hummed, then mumbled incoherently, "Don't wash the bedsheets…"
"What?" asked Lilia, then said hurriedly, as Silver started struggling, "Alright, I won't, I won't! Silver, don't move!"
"Dad…"
"I'm here." Lilia grabbed his hand. Silver tried to return the grip, but his fingers instantly went limp. "Don't worry, Silver. Your father is right here. It'll only take a moment."
His son was conscious. That was good. More than good. Now, he only needed to focus on healing.
Lilia tried to concentrate, but his mind could barely trudge along. He suddenly felt like the youngster he'd been hundreds of years ago, when first confronted with blood and despair not his own. It was one thing to be hurt, and another to watch those you loved rush into death's embrace. Silver was still so young…
My son. My son.
Please don't take my son.
Whether for his son's comfort or his own, he shakily caressed Silver's hair.
Slowly, the gash on Silver's forehead mended. The last of the spilled blood fell to the ground. His silver hair, pale as moonlight, had been stained red, clumping together. Some of it had already dried. How long had he lied there, helpless and alone?
Alone.
He could have died alone, in his father's bedroom.
Lilia should have been there.
"It'll be alright," he murmured. "You'll be just fine, darling. Your father is here. Alright? Silver?"
Silver's eyelashes trembled. He opened his eyes again.
"Dad…?"
"I'm here," said Lilia quickly.
"Why…?" He strained his arms again, trying to sit up.
"Don't get up! Just… Let's just lie down for a while. Okay?"
Silver made a confused noise, but settled back down. Lilia refocused on his healing spell, but his concentration had once again been broken. Each time Silver breathed or moved, he jolted, magic going haywire, and he had to spend twice as much energy and time on getting back on track.
"Why m'I… on the floor?" mumbled Silver.
"You decided to take a little nap," said Lilia.
"Oh… makes sense… I haven't… slept properly, in a while…"
"Is that so?" said Lilia, if only to keep his son conscious.
"When Dad leaves, I…"
"What?" Lilia's heart jumped to his throat.
Silver closed his eyes briefly, breathing deeply. "…I can't sleep enough without you, so… so tired…"
"…What?"
Can't sleep without his father? That made no sense.
"Silver, what do you mean? You couldn't sleep? Silver?"
But Silver had already gone back to incoherent mumbling. "G'night Dad…" he said, then closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
Lilia's magic died out. There was nothing else to heal. Now, his son only needed rest.
Rest, which he had sorely missed. Suddenly, it all stood out to him. The sunken eyes, darkened from insomnia. The sleeping spell that took him by surprise. His inability to get to safety before he fell asleep. His incoherent mumbling, not due to the head wound—that more scary than harmful little graze on his eyebrow—but born out of sleep deprivation. His first words when awakening on the ground, not questioning the situation but rather remarking on Lilia's presence.
Lilia stared down at his son dumbly.
Had he always looked so young?
"Don't worry, Silver," he murmured in the crushing silence. "I won't leave you again."