Work Text:
The sun peaked through the bright orange curtains hung with care in the Bachfelds’ house. There was silence. No barking dog, no barking Marvin overlapping Trina’s voice of reason. Just a quiet, peacefulness. Contrasting to that of the waiting room at the hospital.
Interrupting this quiet calm is Mendel, who opens the door and slams it shut hard. His loud dress shoes that he had worn to work clamp up the wooden stairs, complimenting the sound of his voice.
“Jason! Jason, kiddo, I need you out here please.” He knocks on the door to Jason’s escape, and he opens it cautiously.
Jason, half laying on his bed, his upper body leaned against the bed frame, legs crossed, looking up at his step-father.
“What?” He says, with that gruff, teenage voice he’s been working on. Mendel stumbles over his words, nodding his head and blinking.
“Jason…” He looks up, meeting Jason face to face.
“Bud, it’s Whizzer…he, uhm, well…” Jason takes his walkerman off all the way. He gets up from his bed, slowly stepping to Mendel.
“What? What?! Dr. Mendel…is he…oh my-”
“Language.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
Tension fills the room. Jason breathes heavy with the weight of Mendel’s words, though he’s hardly said any.
“Jason, kid, listen. He uh…he…we need to go to the hospital. It’s…uh-”
Tears well up in Jason’s eyes.
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Language!” Mendel raises his voice.
“No? I don’t care, Mendel. THIS is how you tell me? God, what a fucking medical miricle!” Jason’s voice is glossed with a sarcastic undertone.
“Jas-”
“NO. I’m tired. This family doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Jason take deep breaths, please. You need to relax. We’ll go to the hospital together and-”
Tears stream down Jason’s face as he sits back down onto his bed.
“My…that’s my…Whizzer oh my god…why didn’t you let me go with you?”
“We didn’t think you could take it. I’m…I’m sorry Jase.”
“Of course you didn’t. You never do.” Jason sniffles. His face is red and his voice is scratchy.
“Let’s just go,” Jason says. He stands up, carrying a chess piece in his pocket. He takes off the baseball cap he was wearing, throwing it down on the ground. His room stays still as his world spins before him. Mendel pats his shoulder.
And as the door comes to a close, the house keeps quiet, with the faint mist of tension lingering away. And though Jason had littered his room’s hard wooden floors with his tears, he wouldn’t regret the conversation he had with Mendel. Talking face to face.

ᏵᏺᎴᏏᏠᎺᏡᏻᎤᎽᏊᎲᏑᎠᏜᎩᏸᏰᎸᏃᏥᏃᏔᎸᎿᏘᏅ (Guest) Fri 30 Jan 2026 11:07PM UTC
Comment Actions