Heir to Riddle

Chapter 15

Hayden threw himself at his father's bedside, kneeling as he took his hand. The man was pale, much paler than normal. His grip on Hayden's hand wasn't as tight as it should be, which made the situation all the worse.

"Father," Hayden whispered, clutching his hand like a lifeline. "What's wrong? How do I fix it?" His green eyes were wide, flicking over Voldemort's features quickly. His father coughed, turning away from him slightly, but looked back at the teen.

"I am fine, Hayden ," he murmured, his voice weak as he intertwined their fingers. The teenager shook his head, pressing his face against his father's side as his eyes misted over. Voldemort frowned, placing one hand on Hayden's head. The boy relaxed, shuddering as the first sob escaped him.

It was the start of the flood.

Voldemort stroked his hair as he cried, keeping his hands on his father's arm lightly.

" It is alright, Hayden, " his father soothed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. " I am simply recovering from something. I was not expecting these side effects. " Hayden peeked up at him, his eyes rimmed with red puffiness.

" You're sick , " he hissed out sadly, pressing his cheek against Vodlemort's side. " If I had been here-, "

" Then it would've happened still," his father cut him off gently, smiling. " With superior care, I am certain. My actions are my own, Hayden. " The boy sniffed, nodding uncertainly.

"How can I help you, father?" he asked quietly, leaning into the hand now cupping his cheek.

"Come up here for now," Voldemort said softly, coughing a little. "I want you close." Hayden nodded, obeying immediately.

He snuggled into his father's side, his face against his ribs. A hand found its way into his hair, and Hayden hugged his father closer, not bothering to wipe his still-weeping eyes.

"I love you father," he whispered reverently, and the man hummed.

" I know, Hayden ."