TW: sex; suicide; also just a really long chapter oops

Little Garroth had been whisked away from the emergency room almost immediately after he was brought in.

Something about an emergency procedure, or emergency surgery, Garte wasn't sure. There was so much chaos when his son was taken by the physicians that he could only really remember the view of his bed being rushed down the hallway.

The two were left in the hospital waiting room for a small amount of time until they were taken to a private hospital room to wait for the delivery of their son after his lengthy procedure. Seconds became minutes, minutes turned into an hour that had passed. Garte paced back and forth across the room while his wife sat with her leg bouncing.

Garte took notice of Zianna's overwhelming worry. He walked over to her and gently took her face in his hands. The palms of his hands guided her face to his as she stood up to meet him. He pressed a firm kiss onto her forehead, and when his lips parted from her forehead, he kissed her temple with a gentle inhale.

He moved his hands back, with the tips of his fingers just reaching her black hair and his thumbs right in front of her ears. He leaned into her ear and shushed Zianna ever so gently as her breath began to shake with fear.

As he pressed her forehead against his, Garte whispered, "It's going to be okay."

Zianna didn't reply. She was only focused on practicing the anxiety coping techniques she had helped her husband with since she had known him.

Garte kissed the tip of her nose, and moved down to her lips. It was a gentle, innocent intentioned kiss meant to signal that everything was alright.

They moved away from the kiss, separating to face each other. They gazed into each other's eyes and with an amazement that came across the very moment they both realized they were in love.

Garte tried to keep his focus on Zianna's eyes, but his gaze kept being lured down to her lips. He kissed her again,without the tenderness he did the first time. His fingertips lost their gentleness as he pulled her into this kiss. He had no idea he was starving for it until he pursued it. To his surprise, Zianna kissed back with a similar passion.

After a few seconds that lacked any intake of air, they separated from each other. Even with every cell in his body aching for her, he maintained self control.

"Should we?" Garte breathed out.

He had just barely finished his question before Zianna shook her head and responded, "Just go."

The two of them released themselves into the kiss again. Zianna ran her fingers through Garte's blond curls that were growing out. Both of them were shocked that they were moving that quickly, especially the given circumstances, but neither cared. Their desperation for each other was much stronger than anything else.

Garte quickly moved his hands down Zianna's back and reached around her waist. He gripped her hips tightly and pressed her against the wall. Their core beings were burning with desire.

The world became just the two of them as Garte moved his kisses from her mouth and placed his lips softly along her jawline. Zianna had to resist making noise as he moved his kissing down to her neck, not even regarding any level of caution.

"Fuck, I missed this," Zianna gasped out.

Letting go of his briefly held suction from his mouth to the spot where her jawline curved, Garte clutched her upper thigh in his right hand. He pressed himself against her and looked into her eyes that begged for him.

"Me too," He growled lowly.

As he inhaled for another deep, heavy kiss, Garte jolted.

Jolted awake, that is. To the feeling of a sharp shake of his shoulder and a deep voice speaking his name.

"Garte," The voice said again before Garte could open his eyes.

The businessman let his vision adjust to see Zack, whose hand was still gently placed on his shoulder. Garte drew in another deep breath with the smell of alcohol and sanitation consuming him.

Zack had just been doing his daily morning rounds. Garroth's room hadn't even been one he was assigned to. But, he immediately drew attention to the little one's name on the chart. He couldn't do anything but at least go and visit.

Once he saw that Zack had awoken him, Garte took notice of his surroundings. He was careful not to make any sharp or sudden movements once he realized he was next to Garroth on the firm hospital bed with his son cradled in the crook of his right elbow. He moved his left hand which served as support for his aching head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Zack apologized.
"No, no," Garte quietly cleared his throat.

"Low platelets, huh?" Zack stood up straight and casually put his hands in his pockets.

Garte nodded. He slowly lowered Garroth's head off of his arm and onto the bed. Once the boy was settled into sleeping, he stood up and rubbed his eyes. He knew he probably looked a mess, but he didn't care enough to apologize for it.

"How is he now?" Zack inquired. His gaze was fixated on the child in a bed that was much too big for him.

"Doped up on fentanyl," Garte gave a pathetic laugh and shook his head.

With a sympathetic smile Zack responded, "It just happened?"

"Derek caught it. Zianna and I were outside when he started coughing. Next thing any of us know, we're back where we started."

Zack, hardly knowing what to do despite his training, just nodded in response. He had started finding the habit in himself of checking Aphmau's health every night. Little Garroth was now merely the shell of himself. With the sunken look on his face to the incredible weight loss he endured, Zack couldn't hardly stand the idea of seeing his daughter in such a state.

Their awkward silence didn't last long once Garroth began to stir in his sleep. Garroth's back arched and his vitals began spiraling out of control. Thick beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. His breathing became heavy and labored as the two adults rushed over to him.

Garte placed a hand on his son's chest, feeling him sweat through his blue pajamas that were decorated with cars. He placed his other hand on the top of his head and stroked his hair while Zack was trying to figure out what was going wrong.

"Daddy?" Garroth blinked and looked around frantically. "Momma?"

"You're okay, Gar," Garte spoke with incredible gentleness. "It's alright, buddy."

Zack had figured out that Garroth's insanely strong pain medication had begun to wear off. He drowned out Garroth's repeated whimpers as he called for help and more medication from nurses. Nurses surrounded the pole holding up the IV bags as they adjusted the machines and medications.

Garte shushed Garroth once the little one began crying heavily. They were tears filled with anguish and pure fear. His breath continued shaking even after the assistant doctors and nurses cleared out of the room.

"That should do it," Zack said. "Just needed to adjust his medication."

Garte, however, was too consumed with calming his son down. Garroth was resisting every tube, every sticker on his chest, and every touch that wasn't his mother's.

"W-Where's Momma?" Garroth managed to stutter out.

The four year old was content with his father's presence over him. But, Garroth wanted his mother. She was ever present, unlike his father. Especially as of late.

"She'll be here soon, buddy," Garte continued coaxing him into being calm. "I've got you. You're safe, little man."

With his gaze fixated on the father and son, Zack commented, "It should take between fifteen to thirty minutes to kick in. We'll know if we need to add more soon."

Garte nodded in response with his focus still on his son. But, the conversation was quickly interrupted.

"Can I try something?" A booming voice carried. Garte looked up.

And, there was Michael, standing at the doorway of the room to the pediatric intensive care unit. He stood as powerful as ever with a sympathetic smile and a cunning look in his grey eyes.

Behind the wizard stood Derek. He shrunk under Michael's presence that seemed to beam across the hospital. Garte took a quick glance at his fellow businessman and then focused his attention back onto Michael.

"Sure," Garte hesitantly consented.

Michael gave an affirming nod and walked over to Garroth. With the boy still squirming on his bed from pain, Michael lifted his hand slightly and placed it on Garroth's blond hair. A soft green hue appeared from Michael's hand as it brushed over the little one's sunken face.

Garroth's bright blue eyes blinked open slowly. His breathing became less of a chore and more of an instinct. His heart rate returned to its normal beating pattern. Garte sat amazed, though his face didn't show it.

Not moments after, Zianna gently pushed past Derek to reach inside the room. She was frightened to see the sudden influx of people in her son's room. She feared the worst had happened until she saw Garte sitting on the bed where their son was moments prior. Garte was holding Garroth close to his chest, almost as though the boy was once again a tiny baby.

Garroth turned his head towards the door. His face lit up with a smile spread across his face.

"Momma!" He exclaimed.

Zianna was too stunned to speak. She hadn't seen her boy smile in weeks. She was utterly stunned at the sight of Garte holding him, as Garroth would only scream in protest claiming that being held hurt worse than much anything else.

And yet, there he was, smiling and in the grasp of his father. Awake, and not in excruciating pain.

"Hi, GarGar," She smiled brightly and walked over to the father-son pair.

The two parents had to resist from holding their son as tightly as they could. It was an urge to perform a last ditch effort to keep him forever.

Zianna sat down next to Garte, but her attention was directed at Garroth. "There's my favorite smile," she cooed.

Garroth smiled with his dimples prominently showing. He looked up at Garte, who had the exact same smile spread on his face. Garroth then looked back at Zianna.

"Momma, look," Garroth said as he lifted his hand that was stricken with the IV. "They're giving me super serum like Captain America!"

"Oh, they are?" Zianna asked, still smiling and pretending as if what he had just said was the coolest thing she had ever heard.

"Mmhm," Garroth nodded. "Daddy said so."

All three men smile, Zack, Derek, and Michael. They left the room for a moment to give the family their privacy. Derek, however, was stuck staring at the window that showed the three of them sitting and laughing together.

"What'd you do?" Zack asked.

Michael shifted his eyes to Derek, his ever disagreeing colleague. He smirked and looked back at Zack.

"Just a spell that'll last until his painkillers kick in," He replied.

"You gave them back their son," Derek said. He was still hypnotized by the family as he stared into the window.

All three watched as Garte handed Garroth to Zianna. Once Garte turned to walk out the door, they all turned away and began acting as though they had been previously talking.

Garte stepped out of the door to their little section of the intensive care unit. Being sure to shut the door quietly, he turned to Michael with a relieved smile.

"Thank you, Michael, I-" Garte was trying to find the words to thank him.

Michael immediately took his right hand and shook Garte's. He then clapped his left hand on Garte's shoulder and smiled with a genuine glint in his eye.

"It was a pleasure," Michael said.

"What on earth did you do?" Garte inquired with a more desperate tone than Zack.

"It's a spell, part of the forever potion, actually," Michael briefly paused. "Though, it is just a fragment."

Garte looked into the window. Zianna was holding Garroth in her arms, reading a book to him and using all her efforts to get him to laugh. And these efforts were not in vain.

His mind was infiltrated with the relief of hearing his son laugh for the first time in weeks. For a moment there, it had all felt normal. Nothing was surrounded with cancer.

"Garte, think about it," Michael stated menacingly. "This could be your reality, but at home. No more blood transfusions. No more medication."

Garte swallowed. If a fragment of this spell had worked so well, the reality he had come to know would be gone.

"Kindergarten would start for him in a matter of months, wouldn't it?" Michael continued. "You wouldn't be etching your son's name into a gravestone with the four years he lived."

Garte hesitated. He glanced at Derek with an uncertainty that Derek had only seen years before.

"And you know, there's evidence that suggests long term effects, too," Michael whispered into Garte's ear.

Garte looked at him with shock and confusion. His instincts knew exactly what he was referencing. And yet, his brain was trying to deny that Michael knew as much as he did.

"Oh, what? You don't think I know?" Michael questioned.

"Look where your struggles got you," Michael began. "A psychiatric ward, how many times?"

Michael glanced at Derek, who gave an uncomfortable swallow and shifted his stance. He looked at Garte with the best comforting look he could muster.

"You want Garroth to deal with the same shit you do?" Michael gritted his teeth as he smirked. "Overdosing in high school, again in college. What about when you broke up with Zianna with your effort to let the impact of your sudden suicide be lessened? Oh, and lest I forget when you abandoned your family after the birth of your second son because of your suicidal tendencies-"

"Stop," Derek hissed and glowered at Michael. "You don't know half of that goddamn story."

"Oh, is that the case? Well, I-"

"Do it," Garte interrupted with a cold stare at his family.

The three other businessmen, the doctor, the wizard, and the businessman were stunned. They could hear a pin drop in that ever loud hospital.

"Please, just save him. For now and forever."