Trace The Lines //Ronnie Radke x Female Reader//COMPLETED

Epilogue.

Time is no stranger to us as human beings. It has a way of finding us. As the years went by, they took you with them, leaving your husband, Ronnie Radke, age fifty and your dear children Anthony and Willow at the age of twenty. Time has began to take an affective toll on your husband as well...

Willows POV

My heels clack against the ceramic floor tiling of the laboratory I keep my father in. While Anthony was away at college, our dad needed to be care for intensively. I've dedicated a large amount of time to bring him back. The door beeps from my key card swiping across. The room is dimly lit, the only sound being the monitors attached to his body keeping him alive. After mom died, dads health started to rapidly decline. It was like he lost part of his humanity when she passed. My father began to lose the fight he had against himself causing him to fall into a trauma induced coma. Clicking away on my computer, my eyes scan over his vital information.
[Ronald J. Radke]
//Heart Status: Regular
//Status: Living
//Oxygen Rate: Average
Approaching the table he lies on, I look down. I can tell he's still fighting himself. I just wonder what he's thinking. What he's living through in his mind.

Ronnie's mental POV
Rain poured down all around me. It's too dark to really tell where I was. I felt petrified. This isn't a familiar place to me. Thunder cracks as a dark hooded figure stands before me. The rain came down so hard it was impossible for me to recognize the human in-front of me. "Do I...know you?" I call out, this figure stopping feet before me, not removing the hood. "Yes, you do." He spoke, in a very deep unsettling voice. "This seems so familiar..." my head throbs violently causing me to stumble back with dizziness. "You're in a dream." The pain becomes so unbearable, all I can manage to do is fall to my hands and knees, then on my side on the damp ground. It feels like I can't breathe. My body is seizing up. "Who are you?" My voice sounds strangled. "I am your reflection. You've been asleep for a very long time" claims the figure.

Willows POV
One of the monitors begins to beep a bit abnormally. "Brain activity?" Looking at my fathers pale face, I notice his eyes are moving under his eyelids. The first sign of life in over a year. "Dad. I know your in there. Maybe you can't hear me but your in there I know you are." My throat feels tense. I feel like crying. His eyes continue to move.

Ronnie's Mental POV.
Coughing up blood, I manage to crawl from the figure and onto my back, with just enough strength to turn back and see this person remove his hood. My eyes stretch wildly. This makes absolutely no sense. He's me? An exact copy. As he approaches closer, I make an attempt to try and escape. Without hesitation, a hand goes around my throat, squeezing light from my eyes and mouth. This is where I'm going to die. Here in this hell on earth. I've been crushed to death by my own demons
It's silent now. Wet. Suffocating. Clawing my way through the surface, I come face to face with this demon once more. I don't die easy. Looking within his hollow, empty eyes, I see her. She dances with fire. Runs with the water. Grounds me to the earth but flies me through the air. A grin sprawls across his face. Grabbing ahold of this doppelgängers throat, he gives no fight, allowing his life and energy to be absorbed into me. Her memory into me. The rain subsides, sun cuts through. My one and only thought? Run to her.

Willows POV
Without warning, my fathers blood shot eyes shoot open, his mouth inhaling sharply under his oxygen mask. "Dad? Dad wake up!" Shaking his shoulders, my father shoved me away from him. "Who the fuck are you." His voice is sickly sounding. Pants in between words. "I'm your daughter. It's me dad. Willow." I say blinking slowly. "Oh no. You're to old to be my daughter my daughters five." Says my dad, breathlessly, trying to get up. "No, dad stay still you're not strong enough yet."
"What year is it?" He asks.
"It's 2033."
My fathers eyes lock with mine. We both knew what this meant.
Slowly, I pick up a mic, hopefully it would be a trigger object. Placing it in his hands, he looks at me hopeful. His music keeps what he and mom had alive. It was my mother that started this legacy. He was intended to keep it. For her.

We haven't lost our lives yet.
He's doing his thing.
My father, Ronnie J Radke.
Is no super hero.
He's not perfect.
He's simply,
Human.
In the end, we came home.

End.