Apparition

After many seemingly endless hours of screaming, nightmares, fits, vomiting, crying, bed-wetting, coughing up blood, and panic attacks, Billie Joe Armstrong, who had finally just been released from a long stint in rehab and sent home to recover, had finally fallen into a deep sleep.

His room was still and quiet as he slept, the open window shade allowing a glimmering ray of moonlight to creep into the dark space and cast a silvery glow upon the sleeping faces of both the sick man and his mother, who normally sat attentively at his bedside but was now collapsed in exhaustion from her many attempts at nursing her still gravely ill and needy son back to health.

And yet, despite the complete and almost eerie stillness of it all, there was something that called Billie out of his deep, somewhat peaceful sleep.

What called him forth from his placid, dormant state was neither fear nor pain, but instead, an unmistakable feeling he had long since forgotten.

Even in his state of unconsciousness he felt the presence. There was no way of denying it. The feeling was far too strong to be simply the result of a sick man's delirium.

Slowly, Billie opened his eyes and lifted his head up just a bit. His sleepy, bloodshot eyes lazily scanned the room to find the presence he had sensed, scoping the surroundings out slowly until they finally landed upon an unfocused figure in the corner of the room.

Confused, Billie blinked rapidly as the figure approached him, his eyes growing to the size of a full autumn moon upon registering the figure's face.

There, staring back at him for the first time in many, many years, was his long-dead, beloved father.

Fear, awe, and love overtaking Billie's weak body all at once, he sat up as much as he could given his current feeble state and gasped dryly.

"Da...Daddy?" he croaked out, his voice faltering in shock. "Daddy...i-is that you?"

The hazy figure nodded its head, smiling a warm smile that Billie almost immediately recognized to be distinctly his father's.

"Daddy..." Billie leaned back into his pillow and smiled, a beautiful sort of peace suddenly coming over him when he realized that he was finally, after all these years, in his beloved father's presence once again.

The serenity was short-lived, however, as it took Billie merely a few silent minutes to realize that a visit from his long-dead father when he himself was dying couldn't possibly be a good sign.

"Wait..." Billie's voice now began to shake and falter with fear instead of with the joyful sort of shock with which it had quivered merely minutes before. "Da-Daddy...you're not here to...I...I'm not..."

Tears began to well up in his eyes as he put two and two together in his head.

"Daddy...d-don't take me..."

Tears streamed down his pale cheeks as he begged helplessly, looking up at his father's ghostly figure with terrified eyes.

"I...I'm not ready Daddy, please, please don't take me now..."

Billie's lip quivered as he spoke, and he could feel sobs hitching at the back of his throat.

"I-I can't leave him now, I can't leave my baby now, I can't-"

Just as Billie was about to break out into hysterical sobs, he looked down to see his father's hand on his and then upwards to see his father looking at him with soft, loving eyes, a characteristic expression of his that Billie had truly missed.

"Daddy..."

"You're not leaving, Billie Joe."

It was a soft, gentle whisper.