Book 4: The Way We've Always Done Before (Axl Rose FanFic)

Ch. 24: Alone Time

I had asked Will not to come, but he had insisted on it. I reluctantly took his band's private jet out to an Indianapolis airport where a rental car awaited us. Will waited until I was safely buckled in before putting the pedal to the floor and tearing off in the direction of our home town.

The drive would have normally taken about an hour, but Will's crazy driving cut the trip in half and, soon enough, we were parked outside of my house.

As soon as I stepped out of the car, my mother came tearing out of the house, tears running down her face and her arms outstretched. She embraced me as soon as our bodies met and let out a sob.

"Hazel!" She cried.

"Momma!" I cried back, letting my tears fall. "Where is he? Where's my daddy?"

She pulled away from me, shaking her head and trembling. "He's in his room. He is very weak. He just got sick one day and...it's terminal cancer. He doesn't have much time. They found it far too late."

I sniffled and shook my head, staring down at the grass. I was mad at the universe. Give me one of my favorite men back, and take the other one away. How unfair and cruel.

"And this is...Will?" My mom asked, pointing to Will who was standing awkwardly off to the side, not wanting to interrupt our moment. He looked so out of place in this farm setting wearing his tight jeans, chains, and leather jacket.

"Hello, Mrs. Evans," Will greeted her with a kind smile. He went in for a hand shake, but my mom maneuvered around it and gave him a hug. He seemed shocked at first, but he slowly relaxed into it until he was hugging her right back.

"It's so nice to see you again," she murmured.

"You too," he replied with a light chuckle, patting her back reassuredly.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" My mom asked, glancing at both of us before turning and shuffling back towards the house. "Your father is waiting inside. He'll be so happy to see you!"

I followed close behind my mom, and Will trailed behind me. Halfway to the door, he reached out to squeeze my hand. I squeezed back, letting him know that I recognized his attempt at comforting me and I appreciated it.

As we stepped inside, we each slipped off our shoes before heading upstairs to where my father was waiting. When my mother opened the door to their bedroom, I about dropped to the floor right then and there.

My father, the strong independent farmer, was hooked up to about a million machines, all of them beeping and buzzing to their own tune. He looked bloated and pale and could barely lift a finger. Sam lay at his feet, sound asleep. Even though he looked exhausted, my father still beamed at me as soon as I stepped through the door.

"Daddy!" I happily exclaimed, acting as though everything was normal. "I'm home!"

"Hey, sweetheart. How was your trip?" His voice sounded about as frail as he looked.

I blinked back tears and hurried over to pretend to fix his sheets, hoping he wouldn't see the despair written across my face. "It was great. California is beautiful. I wish you could've seen it for yourself."

My dad opened his mouth to respond, but stopped when he noticed Will standing in the doorway. "Well, I'll be damned..."

My father glared at Will as he stumbled towards the bed, his hand held out for a handshake. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Evans."

My father just stared down at Will's hand as though it were covered in shit. I cringed at the look he gave him. As much as I loved Will, it was hard to imagine being with someone whom my father didn't approve of.

"Hazel, I'm going to need you to give us some privacy," my dad ordered.

"But, daddy, I just got here!" I whined.

"Now!" My father ordered, his voice now much louder. He was starting to sound like his old self again.

I gave Will an apologetic stare before patting my father on the leg and exiting the room. The last thing I saw before I closed the door was my father ordering Will to take a seat in the rocking chair beside his bed, and Will stooping down to comply with his request.

As the door clicked shut, I just prayed that Will wouldn't have one of his famous temper tantrums aimed at my deathly ill father.