26, with whatever comes to your mind first when you read the prompt ^^
of course! here is keith and his father from ways to say i love you —26: broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave
for @keithgenuary day 23: keith’s father / read on ao3 here
Keith wakes up sweating and panting on a cold night, unable to move. Fear paralyzes his limbs and sets his jaw closed, though he wants nothing more than to scream out to his father for help. He doesn’t know why he’s so scared, but he knows he can’t just ignore the awful feeling and go back to sleep
He spends a few minutes in his bed trying desperately to calm his breathing before he finally musters the strength to leave the safety of the blankets around him.
Without much trouble, he finds his father asleep in his recliner chair in the living room. At first, Keith is hesitant to wake him, since he knows his father doesn’t sleep well and right now it seemed like he was finally resting. He figures, though, that his father would be okay with Keith’s interruption as long as he had good reason — which he certainly did.
His father’s heavy snores come to an abrupt stop when Keith taps his shoulder and watches as he looks around frantic for any signs of danger before returning his attention to Keith.
“I don’t think you should go to work tomorrow,” Keith says abruptly, but the only response he receives from his father is a bleary blink and a confused tilt to his head. Keith reiterates, “I have a bad feeling. You shouldn’t go to work tomorrow, so stay home, please. We could play games or go for a ride or even do homework, I don’t care, just please don’t go to work.”
“C’mere, son,” his father says, voice rougher than usual but characteristically deep. He smiles gently as Keith climbs onto the chair and sits, resting his back against his father’s chest.
Keith closes his eyes, finally feeling some tension dissipate, as his father massages and kneads his shoulders.
“Everything will be quite alright tomorrow,” he soothes, and his steady voice lulls Keith back into a sleepy state. He leans backward to rest his head on his father’s chest, listening to his comforting tone. “Now, you’d get some sleep. Everything is fine, son.”
And although Keith falls asleep within minutes, he can’t shake the persistent and unsettling feeling deep in his cut.
It lasts through the morning as his father gets ready for work, but Keith says nothing. If his father isn’t worried, Keith shouldn’t be either.
When Keith is called down to the principal’s office later that day, he nearly throws up into his hands on the walk there. He finds himself sprinting down hallways, despite the unease spreading throughout his body, and nearly barreling into the office when he gets there.
In the room with his principal is a police officer.
The two men must see the panic in Keith’s eyes, because they instruct him to sit down in the nearest chair and begin rattling off formalities. Keith goes absolutely livid with anxiety, standing and slamming his hands on the desk. “What’s going on?!”
The principal and the cop exchange sideways glances, before the cop removes his hat and steps forward.
“Your father is in the hospital,” he informs, tone frustratingly pitying. “While at work today, he ran back into a building to retrieve possible victims, despite protocol and strict orders against his actions. The child he saved is in surgery for the damage to her spine, but the doctors think that she will survive, thankfully.”
“And my dad?!” Keith demands furiously, tugging at his own hair nervously.
“He’s in the ICU,” the principal says quietly, with much more indifference than the police officer had — probably a result of his record at the school. “The burns he sustained are very severe and life-threatening. As of right now, he’s unresponsive. You are dismissed immediately, and Officer Burkley will take you to the hospital to see him.”
Immediately, Keith is hysterical.
The cop has to pick him up and carry him out of the office, since Keith is absolutely unable to even move. He loses the ability to do anything except scream and cry for his father, who may not live. The cop is gentle as he places him into the backseat of the car and buckles his seatbelt. Keith barely even sees anything that happens — that is, until the officer turns on his lights and sirens, speeding off in the direction of the hospital.
That’s when Keith finally comprehends the severity of everything: they don’t even think his father will live long enough for Keith to get there and say his goodbyes.
If it even were possible, Keith’s crying louder, and he all but collapses onto the seat, curling up as much as he can manage with the seatbelt. The police officer tries his best to soothe Keith with pacifying phrases, but it doesn’t work. The man is not old enough, his voice not deep enough, his chest not broad enough, because the only person that could possible calm Keith is his own father.
Luckily, though, it doesn’t take long to get there, and before Keith knows it, the officer is pulling him out of the car, carrying him into the hospital.
His footsteps are fast and urgent as he makes his way to the ICU. Keith is grateful for his efforts to hurry and his quick navigation of the bland hospital hallways. They get to the ICU, and Keith is put down and let in immediately. The cop doesn’t follow.
What he sees brings him to his knees beside the hospital bed.
His father is not only wrapped completely in bandages stained red, but intubated. His eyes are shut gently, and the only thing audible in the room — save for Keith’s hysteria — is the steady beep of the heart monitor and the rise and fall of the ventilator. It’s then that Keith realizes his father can’t even breathe on his own.
Keith knows better than to touch him, but he can’t help reaching for his hand.
“Please,” he begs, tears clogging his voice and tightening his throat. “Please, don’t leave me, Pop. You can do this, come on, don’t give up. You can’t give up, Pop, you can’t! You can’t leave me!”
Of course, there’s no response.
“I love you,” he sobs brokenly, tugging on his father’s hospital gown with more force than he probably should. “Please don’t leave me.”
(Keith’s father doesn’t listen — he doesn’t survive the night.)
(Keith forgives him, though.)
