Severance

A father's love is unconditional, even as he faces death. No force, divine or earthly, could change that.

Wilbur Soot pressed the button.

He listened as the hiss of TNT began to ignite, like music to his ears.

The song to be played at the end of his unfinished symphony, even.

However, regret seeped deep into his chest as he watched Phil rush towards him, ebony wings unfurling. Wilbur told himself he was strong, that he didn’t care and he was ready to take everyone down with him.

But Wilbur lied.

He loved his father,

And his brothers,

And his friends.

Wilbur Soot was scared.

He heard the first explosion the same second he felt his father’s arms wrap around him. The touch of the rough and seasoned hands made an effort to ground the lost soul.

Wilbur couldn’t seem to keep himself steady, to keep his stature as solid as it had been. He lost his grip and fell into Phil’s arms.

The screams of those he loved rang in his ears like sirens from afar, blurred and distant. Wilbur watched as the room he stood in just moments before fell apart, clouds of smoke filtering through the cracks and chunks of stone falling to give way to the day.

The ringing in his ears seemed to get louder and all he wanted at that moment was for it to stop. As though on command, Wilbur found himself back in Phil’s arms.

Something was wrong.

When he felt around, there was something wet.

When he listened, he could hear choked breathing and shaken gasps.

When he smelled, it reeked of burning flesh.

When Wilbur Soot looked, his father was covered in blood.

Nothing else in the world mattered to him. Wilbur flipped his father over and held him gently in his arms.

“Phil?”

The lack of a response sickened him.

“Dad?”

Wilbur was met with a low groan and a pained expression.

“Hey there, Wil. It’s gonna be okay.”

Tears began to brim in his eyes and his body began to tremble. Wilbur cried, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be like this.”

“I know it wasn’t. That’s okay.” There was no hatred in his response. Wilbur almost resented his father for it. Almost.

He wanted him to scream, to shout, to be angry with him. Wilbur wanted his father to help him. He wanted his father to stay.

“Wil, things happen,” a pause, “well, these things don’t happen all too often, do they?” Wilbur had always thought his father’s laugh felt like honey on a sore throat, like tender kisses to the forehead, and like the happiest memories that anyone could ever imagine. Now, though, it sounded like he was on the brink of death.

Perhaps he was.

“Dad, I-”

“Shh. You’ll have all the time in the world to apologize, but not to me. Never to me.” Tears fell as Wilbur listened to Phil whisper those words. “I did this to myself. Don’t blame yourself.”

However much Wilbur wanted to believe those things, he knew he couldn’t, and that there was a chance he never would.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out anyways. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry, please don’t leave me. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.” Wilbur spoke like he was a broken record.

“Listen to me, Wilbur. I love you, and I always will.” An unspoken phrase remained, my love for you will forever be unconditional. Throughout any universe and under any circumstance, I will always love you. When all time stops and everything as we know it ends, I will still love you.

Wilbur knew those words. He’d heard the phrase time and time again, and never did he think there would be a last time, let alone that it would go unsaid.

“I love you too, Dad.” Wilbur held Phil closer to him, careful not to jostle his wings which sat raw and broken beside him.

They sat in a sorrow-filled silence, tears spilling against the cloth of Phil’s cloak. Wilbur closed his eyes, too ashamed to look his father in the face after all that had happened.

The feeling of Phil’s fingers winding their way through his hair released both comfort and dread within Wilbur as soon as he felt it. Against all desires otherwise, he leaned into the touch like there was nothing else to live for.

He was scared it would be the last time he would ever feel that.

There was a chance it could be.

Wilbur cried while Phil tried to stay strong.

He felt the weight in his hands slowly become heavier and heavier as the awfully long seconds passed.

“I love you, Wilbur. Tell Tommy and Techno I love them too for me, okay?”

“Please, don’t go. Please- I’ll do anything to take all of this back, I’m sorry,” Wilbur sobbed.

“Don’t be sorry, Wil. You’ll be okay. You’ll all be okay.” The words felt like closure and like the opening to a story all at once, and it was too much for Wilbur to take.

He didn’t want to open a chapter of his story where Phil wasn’t going to be there for him anymore. Wilbur didn’t want to go on without the love of his dad.

He felt the hand on his head move to cradle his cheek, and he leaned into the touch just as much. A rough thumb, weathered from decades of existence, wiped away his tears.

“I will always love you.”

Wilbur cried harder than he ever had before as he felt the hand cradling his cheek fall to his lap, when the body he held fell limp and heavy, when he felt his father die in his arms.

He cried harder than he had when he stubbed his toe on the corner of the table when he was four.

He cried harder than he had when he locked himself away after he lost the election.

He cried harder than when he planned to destroy his country.

Nobody was there to comfort him anymore.

A father's love is unconditional, even as he faces death. No force, divine or earthly, could change that.