Letting Him In

Chapter-43

"The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye
Means we've already won
A necessity for apologies between you and me
Baby, there is none"

-Walking In The Wind, One Direction
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Kaeden

Kaeden stared at the ceiling, laying in bed like he had for the past week. Sleep had become a stranger to him.

He wasn't sure what was keeping him up: fear that his father would barge in while he was asleep and he wouldn't be ready to face him, or that the man would hurt his mother despite promising he wouldn't, and Kaeden would be too busy sleeping to stop him.

Or maybe, right now, it was the guilt of what he had said to Elijah, or the fact that just a minute ago, he had ignored his call.

He hadn't meant to; he hadn't been sure what to even say, and by the time he finally decided to suck it up and answer, the call had ended.

He wasn't sure whether to call back or not. What he had said to Dean had been true: he had needed to talk to Elijah, but recently it felt like he couldn't approach his bestfriend anymore.

He felt terrible for throwing it in Elijah's face the way he had. He wasn't the one suffering from cancer, and he had no right to say any of that. Most of that anger hadn't even been for Elijah, it had been for his father.

He'd been bottling it up for so long that he ended up lashing out at the wrong person.

And it was four in the morning. What if something was wrong? What if Elijah had called him for something important?

Sighing, he picked up his phone, because even if it wasn't important, atleast he would be able to shake off his unease in that case.

The phone barely rang once before the other boy picked up.

"Kade?"

The pain in his voice had Kaeden sitting up instantly, alarm rising in his chest.

"Lijah? What's wrong?" he asked.

He could hear the other boy's harsh breathing.

"Not sure. It just fucking hurts," he muffled, his voice sounding muffled.

"Where are you?" Kaeden asked, already out if bed and putting on his jacket and shoes.

He rushed down, grabbing his car keys and slowly opening the door, hoping his father was fast asleep in his drunken state.

"Park near the school," he said, a small,  muffled groan following.

"I'll be there in two minutes," Kaeden said, starting the car. "Stay on the phone, okay?"

Elijah didn't respond, but Kaeden could hear his breathing, fast and short pants.

He was sure he broke every speed limit on the way, because the seven minute drive only took him a minute and a half.

It didn't take long to find Elijah on the far side of the park, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head resting on his knees as his phone was tucked between his ear and shoulder.

Jogging over to his friend, he put a hand on Elijah's shoulder, and his head jerked up.

"What's wrong?" Kaeden asked, kneeling in front of the bench.

"I dunno," Elijah said, and in person, the pain in his voice seemed much worse. His eyes were barely open, and his voice was softer than usual. "It just started hurting randomly, and it won't stop."