Letting Him In

Chapter-26

"Sometimes I think too much
Yeah, I get so caught up
I'm always stuck in my head
I wish I could escape
I tried to yesterday"

-Alec Benjamin, Mind Is A Prison
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Elijah

As he waited for Leo to return with his parents, Elijah felt his anxiety rising. He couldn't breathe, and even Dean's hand resting on the small of his back wasn't enough to ground him. His mind had wandered away into a pit of guilt and panic. His own trepidation was eating him alive.

His mother's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Dean," she greeted, sounding confused. "It's good to see you. Although I wasn't expecting to see you here," she admitted.

"It's good to see you too, ma'am. Sorry for intruding," Dean said, polite as ever. Elijah marveled at how he could be so polite and gracious like this at most times, and at others, he could be an entirely different person. The marks on his neck proved that.

His mother waved away Dean's comment about intruding, coming closer to the bed.

"Lijah? What happened?" she asked, putting a hand on his forehead. "You look pale. Are you unwell?"

Despite the confusion and concern on her face, Elijah could tell she had had a good time at the event she had attended with his father. When he turned his head to the side, he saw a similar expression reflected on his father's face.

His throat closed up, and he couldn't bring himself to answer her. His heartrate picked up and his hands trembled, and he could feel the panic rising in his chest.

When he didn't say anything for a while, Dean's hand subtly moved up and down his back, the blankets around Elijah hiding it. He swallowed, forcing down the lump in his throat. He had to do this.

He pulled his knees closer to his chest, still a little cold.

"I relapsed," he mumbled, burying his face in his hands.

His mother gently brushed his hair out of his face, letting out a soft chuckle.

"You actually need to speak up for us to hear you, El," she said. Elijah's heart warmed at the nickname. She hadn't called him that since he had begun finding it embarrassing in his preteens, but now it held an odd sort of comfort.

He looked up to see her looking at him with her brows furrowed in confusion. His father came to stand next to her, his arm wrapping around his wife.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" he asked, both of them looking at him expectantly.

Elijah didn't know what came over him. Maybe it was the guilt of keeping this secret for almost a month, or maybe it was just the need for them to know, for him to have their support through this, but Elijah couldn't take it alone anymore. Either way, he forced his breathing back to normal, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

"I have cancer," he said, staring at the blue ink stain on his blanket, which seemed like a much better option than looking at anyone in the room. "I relapsed."

With those five simple words, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room; no one said a thing, and if it hadn't been for the sound of his clock ticking, he would have thought time had stopped.

It was suffocating. His chest tightened, the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears, drowning out everything else. His nails dug deeper into his skin, making him wince, and he had to squeeze guys eyes shut to stop himself from giving into his emotions.