Chapter Text
Ken was late. As usual. But this time, he didn't have his usual tired smile. He was walking fast, his hands deep in his pockets and a nervous look, as if the air itself was hurrying him up.
Exer saw him from the corner where he was waiting for him, standing next to the old library where they met to talk about things they couldn't say out loud.
"You have it, rigth?" Exer asked as soon as Ken was close enough. Not a greeting, not a joke. Just urgency.
Ken nodded and pulled out a jar wrapped in a thick cloth. He held it with both hands, as if it were something that could break with just a slightly heavier breath than usual.
"Yeah, I got it. But listen. This remedy is new, exclusive, it's not even in the market yet." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "It was one hell to get it..."
Exer extended his hand, but Ken didn't gave it to him rigth away.
"How much...?"
Ken swallowed hard.
"Six golden..."
The silence was heavy. Exer felt like someone had hit him in the chest with a hammer. Six. Half of what he got selling the cutlery, all the risk he took sneaking into the castle, everything he had worked for before his dad started to get worse.
But he didn't hesitate, not even for a second.
He pulled the coins out, his fingers trembling a little, not with fear, but hope.
Ken finally gave him the jar.
Exer took it in his hands carefully, like holding life itself. Because he believed it was.
"Are you sure it works...?" The question came out almost without air.
Ken rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"Im not sure Ex, no one knows yet. People say it's a miracle, it's helped some people, but your dad..." He didn't finished the phrase, he didn't had to.
Exer looked down at the jar, the liquid inside glowing with a strange color. "I don't care." And he meant it. "I don't care if it's new, weird, dangerous. If there's even the smallest chance this works... I have to give it a try."
Ken observed him for a moment, and his expression changed, less tiredness, more humanity.
"Your dad is strong, if someone can endure it, that's him."
Exer bit the inside of his cheeks, preventing a sob from escaping his lips.
Ken rested a hand in his shoulder. "And you are too, Ex, stronger than you think."
Exer nodded, without looking at him. He stored the jar safely inside his cape, aganist his chest, protecting it from the whole world. "Thank you Ken, really."
"Don't thank me, just... let me know if you need something else."
"I will."
All the lies, the risks he takes, the things he steals... He was doing all that for only one reason. For the man that raised him.
For his father.
Exer pushed the door of their house with his shoulder, the wood creaking, as if trying to show the whole world what he was hiding.
The smell of boiled herbs and stale bread filled the air.
His father was laying in the bed, half upright, a thin blanket up his waist, wearing that expression of his that combined weariness and stubbornness.
"Dad... Im home..." Exer tried to sound casual, even though he felt his heart up his throat.
Hia dad looked up, even that small gesture seemed to be a struggle for him.
"It took you longer than usual." He murmured.
Exer squeezed the bottle inside his cape and walked over, trying to hide his haste, the hope that burned beneath his skin.
"Yeah, I... Had some places to go..." He said, not looking at him in the eyes. His tone was light, the lie coming out easily.
Harry raised an eyebrow, the typical gesture that meant, 'who are you trying to fool?' But still, he didn't say anything, just observed his son.
Exer took a deep breath, finally pulling the bottle out, placing it in the table carefully.
"Look, Ken got this for you, they say it works quickly, it's... special."
His father looked down at the jar and took it between his trembling hands, turning it around to read the label, even though surely he couldn't distinguish the letters without his glasses.
He looked up at Exer. "How much did it cost?"
Exer tensed.
"It doesn't matter." He replied way too quickly.
"Exer." His name pronounced with calm was enough to tense him up. He swallowed, and stood there, rigid.
"I can get the money-" He insisted. "It doesn't matter how much it is dad, whatever it takes to make you feel better."
His dad let out a long, tired sigh. He reached for Exer's arm, caressing him in a soft, tender gesture.
"I don't want you getting into trouble for me"
"Im not in trouble" The weight of every word hung heavy on his lips.
He didn't believed him, that was clear. But it was also clear he wasn't planning in pressuring him more. He chose to pretend.
"Okay..." He muttered, with some kind of sad smile. "If you say everything is fine, I believe you"
That phrase was sweet and bitter at the same time, and Exer bliked fast to contain the emotion. He helped his father to lie down more comfortably, put his arm around his back, adjusted his pillow. It was a routine he had memorized.
"Please, just take it..." He whispered. "You'll feel better tomorrow..."
His father just nodded. Exer stood by his side, sitting in the edge of his creaking bed, not letting go of his hand.
And while his dad sipped the first drops of the remedy, Exer looked towards the door, afraid the illness migth enter through there again.
Exer opens the door with the same tired routine from everyday. He can feel the familiar burn in his neck and back from the heavy work from the afternoon, from lifting flour sacks. What is not familiar, pierces his chest like a lighting bolt. A sound.
A small spoon gently tapping against a cup.
His brain takes a minute to process it. That kind of sound shouldn't exist in this house, not for years.
"Dad...?"
The word escapes his lips as a ridiculous whisper. Exer moves forward, one step behind the other, as if the floor was fragile and any sudden move would shatter the miracle.
The aroma of tea, warm and simple, stikes a direct blow to his memory; warm summer nights, soft laughs, playing chess with his dad. Exer peeks his head into the kitchen, and... sees him.
His father is standing. Not only standing, he's steady, as if his body suddenly remembered what it was like to feel alive. Calmly stirring his tea, focused, as if this was a norrmal thing to do and not a complete resurrection.
"You're early" His dad speaks, without looking at him, acting normal.
Exer feels his vision blurry. Relief, disbelief, fear still deep clinging to him. "What... What are you doing out of bed...?" It's a stupid question, the answer is standing in front of him.
Harry finally looks up, with that gaze that hadn't held it's sparkle in so long, and smiles. A small smile, but it's genuine, with a life that Exer thought was lost.
"I felt better today. I thought of making some tea."
Exer covers his mouth with a hand. He doesn't wants to cry, not now. Not when he should be celebrating. But the relief is overwhelming, and disarms him from inside.
"Dad... You don't know how-" His voice breaks, he squeezes his eyes shut, and takes a deep breath. "You look good... Very good..."
"I know..." Harry nods, also surprised, but determined not to say it. "I guess I still have some life left in me."
Exer laughs between tears, a broken laughter, but necessary. He moves closer, and hugs him carefully. His father puts his hand around his back, warm and steady.
"Im here, son..." He murmurs "Im not going anywhere..."
And for the fisrt time in a long time, Exer allows himself to believe him, at least a little.
Two weeks and a half slip away like water through fingers.
Each day, the bottle went down a little more. And each morning, his dad got up more easily, his eyes brighter, with more life.
And every nigth, when Exer counts the coins in his table, the weight in his chest grows.
When he finally shakes the bottle and can't hear a single drop, he understands it's over. Literally. The remedy is gone, time's up.
The coins he have left fit in the palm of his hand. It's not enough.
The relief he had felt upom seeing his father recover is now a weapon against him; he's seen it, he touched it from so close. And he can't lose it again. Not after all this.
He had promised to never come back to the castle, promised to stay away from that absurd risk, from that thin line between necessity and stupidity. But that promise trembles and breaks when Exer sees his father sleeping, his breathing steady, not weak and fragile like before.
He is living at last. Exer won't allow him to go back to die in slow motion.
That same night, he sneaks out of home, his heart pounding in his ears. He crosses the bridge and looks for Jackson. He founds him behing the old blacksmith shop, wiping his hands with a dirty cloth.
"I need to talk with you" He's straightforward.
Jackson looks at him and it takes him no more than 3 seconds to read the disaster in his expression.
"What's wrong?"
Exer opens his hand, showing him the little coins he haves left.
"The remedy has run out. And I don't have enough to get more. I can't... I can't leave him like this- Not after how.bad he was..."
Jackson slowly lets out a breath. He understands now. And the understanding makes this serious.
"Exer... We said you wouldn't get back there."
"I know." He answered, firm, almost aggressively. "But this time I won't go for cutlery. If I'm taking this risk, better make it worth it. Jewelery, Jackson. Just one of those and I can affort months of that remedy."
Silence. A heavy one.
Jackson stares at the ground, hesitates, swears in a low tone.
But Exer is his friend. They would do anything for each other. And his dad... He had always been so nice with him... He couldn't possibly do this to him.
He looks up and nods.
"Okay. If you're doing this, you won't do it alone."
The tension in Exer's body eases. Knowing his friend haves his back doesn't makes the fear go away, but it's easier to handle.
Jack crosses his arms. "Tomorrow at night. We'll have everything ready. We can't fail."
Exer nods, his heart beating against his ribcage.
"Tomorrow."
They say goodbye without words, they're not needed. The decision was taken, there's no going back.