For Me, For You, For Us(Completed)

Done

DAN'S POV

I didn't know what to expect when I came to the hospital. Perhaps for my father to yell and kick me out, insulted that I thought I should even come.
The one thing that I didn't expect was to be pulled to the side by a nurse after I told them who I was was, and told that my father had been in a bad car accident and that it wasn't looking good for him.
I wasn't sure how to react, I just stared at the nurse, I'm pretty sure she thought I was in shock and fuck maybe I was. I don't even know what to think anymore.
I don't remember much of the conversation after that but before I know it I'm being lead down a hallway in the ICU and escorted to a room. I stop outside of the door, unsure of what to and unable to think.
My father wouldn't want me here, I'm nothing to him, my presence would just anger him.
The nurse misinterprets my hesitation, saying, "how about I leave you alone for a minute? When your ready it's the first door on your right", she says in a soft tone and as she leaves she puts her hand shoulder and gives it what she thinks is a reassuring squeeze.
I don't know how long I stand there after she leaves, maybe a minute, maybe a half an hour or more. Time fades out and I can't even think. I know I should have images of memories bad and good, if I even have any of those, flying through my head right now of my father but I feel strangely numb.
I don't feel grief and I don't feel happiness. To put it simply, I just don't feel at all.
What kind of monster doesn't feel anything when their father is probably going to die.
Maybe I am as despicable as my father says, an abomination.
An unfeeling bastard.
With that thought in my head I push open the door, stepping into the semi-familiar room, every hospital room looks the same.
I focus on the curtains, the off white, chunky, weirdly folded fabric, covering the windows. They are completely closed, blocking out the sun, making this pristine, white room dark and hopeless.
Finally I can't take it anymore and my eyes shift to the bed.
At first I can't fully comprehend what I'm looking at. It doesn't seem like my father.
My father is a ... presence to say the least, he takes up all the air in a room when he stands in it and he always seems to stand 5 feet above everyone else.
But near, now, he just looks... old. Old and broken. I've never noticed the gray around his temples, or the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, a mouth that's turned into a perpetual frown. Even in his sleep he's frowning, his eyebrows pinched over his green eyes, shut in sleep.
His body is hooked up to brigade of wires, some I'm personally familiar with, the monitors next to his bed beeping with every breath he takes, I can't see any serious damage from where I am, a couple cuts and bruises along his face and hands. The real damage must be under the blanket.
I stand there, unsure what to do, I guess I assumed he would be awake. Now I just feel awkward, I'm just about to leave when the nurse walks in and I back away from the door, trying not to get in the way.
She smiles a kind smile at me and heads over to my father.
"Mr. Howell?" she says, "your son is here", I flinch when she says the word, instantly feeling like I should leave. My father stirs in his sleep as he wakes up, blinking his eyes as he adjusts to his surroundings, focusing first on the nurse, who is taking his blood pressure, and then on me; his face instantly changes, hatred flaring in his eyes as he looks and me and I don't know why but that hurts, that my father hates me is no surprise but that while he's barely conscious and half dead, he still manages to look at me, the kid he raised, with contempt, is hard to ignore.
I don't know what I expected though, it's not like my father is going to spring out of the bed, tell me he loves me and that he was wrong. No. No my father doesn't regret anything he's ever done, except probably keeping me.
I feel my shoulders fold into myself as I try to make myself fade into the background. I want to disappear.
My father, being the man is he doesn't say or do anything in front of the nurse, he's all about appearances, the foundation of the house can be rotting and barely holding itself together but as long as the outside is holding up then everything is okay, and when the house ultimately crumbs? Just cover it up. Pretend nothing happened and then everyone else will too.
For better or for worse the nurse leaves and I take a good look at my father, the commanding force he always has is gone, and in its place is a blanket of cold hard hatred. No pretenses, no appearances to uphold, just hatred.
"Get. The. Fuck .Out", he says with clenched teeth.
I don't know why but suddenly I can't move, no matter how hard I wanna run from this room, run from him, I'm frozen.
The fire flares in his eyes.
"Father... I...", I stammer, unsure of why I'm even talking.
"Don't call me that you fucking bastard",he says. "I'm done", he remarks in a biting voice, "I don't even give a fuck anymore!" he shouts before curling into his side and coughing, a really bad, hacking cough. "I want you gone", he growls when he recovers. "I want you to get the fuck out of the hospital, I want you to get the fuck out of this city, hell I want you to fucking kill your self!", he yells, "and you can't even manage to do that right!", he spits before he's taken over by another coughing fit.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" he yells, coughing even harder until the monitors by the bed start ringing and I'm pulled out of the room.
It's all a blur around me as I'm pushed into the back of the room, as a crash cart is pulled in, as a team of hospital staff surround my father, a loud "CLEAR" rings in my ears as a male doctor grabs two peddles and places them on my fathers chest, the room goes silent. Suddenly another loud "CLEAR" rings in the room and everything stops again. The staff around me begin to pull me away from the room, shuffling me down the hallway as my vision fades in and out, and the world shifts underneath my feet.
"CLEAR"