What If?// WDW BxB: Corbyn-Shots

Day 12|| Phenomenon- Dorbah

Summary: Daniel's a phenomenon

Corbyn's POV
Phenomenon; a fact or situation that is observed to exist or happen, especially one whose cause or explanation is in question, or a remarkable person, thing, or event. That's what the doctors had called him. A phenomenon.

" Why can't I stay at home?"

He was only four when it started. The crying and screaming, begging for us. Wailing about being confused, afraid. Why did you leave me? Where did you go?

We had been in the kitchen. He had seen us 15 minutes ago.

" You're sick, Baby. Me and Daddy don't know how to take care of you."

Then he would ask about the sky, the grass. Asking about their colors. What were they called? The very concept of blue and green had fascinated him. Eyes sparkling down at our lawn, mouth open just a little.

Blue had been his favorite color.

" But I don't wanna stay here! I wanna be at home. I wanna stay with you!"

1, 2, 3... 4... what's the next one?

" We know, we want you with us, but they know how to help you. They'll take good care of you."

Green, blue, five, all gone within the span of two months. Completely and entirely erased, as if they had never existed.

" But it's scary, Daddy. Please, I don't like it. I wanna go home."

His pediatrician pale when she came back. Staring slack jawed at the clip board. Muttering over and over again that it wasn't right. It couldn't be.

There had been three others that same year, before we met with a world-renowned neuroscientist. His reaction the same. The test had messed up. The equipment had just failed. Something had been contaminated. Someone hadn't done their fucking job because hell would freeze over before this was true. Pigs would sprout wings and take to the skies. Dogs would speak English between barks. Hamsters would grow horns and join goat herds.

" Don't be scared, Baby. They won't hurt you, they're help you. I promise they will."

Alzheimer's, they had finally said. Fucking Alzheimer's. The chances of it showing up this young? One in trillion, in a quadrillion. It was almost impossible. Yet, here we were. It had been genetic. He had gotten it from me.

" Papa, please. I don't... I-I... I don't wanna forget you too."

The glass had come down quick and sharp. Painted with blinding smiles, with glowing eyes. Giggles echoing in the clatter, cooing purrs drifting through cold, crisp air.

Thirty. They said we would lucky to see him live that long. They said it would take a miracle. His brain slowly dieing. Decaying more and more with each passing day, with every second.

Our precious baby boy. Our everything.

" You won't forget us, Prince. We'll come visit you every single day. I promise we will. You won't ever forget us, Baby."

Daniel hadn't understood, he still didn't. He was scared. Scared of never being able to remember. Scared of not knowing the little things, his favorite tv show, his birthday. Scared of losing everything.

" You don't know that! I-I... I forget everything. I fo-forgot the alphabet and colors. I... I-I forgot h-how to count. I-I d-don't wanna forget you guys. Papa, I don't... I-I w-wanna go home. Please, Papa, Daddy. Please don't go. Please don't leave me."

There wasn't a thing we could do. We couldn't protect him from this, and that hurt. It hurt more than anything in this world. It hurt knowing he was breaking and we couldn't fix him. It hurt knowing we were helpless. That all we could was sit there. Sit there and watch him die.

" We love you so much, Prince. You know we would never do anything to hurt you."

" Then take me home! Please... I just... I just wanna go home."

It hurt to watch him cry. To watch the way the brilliant blue of his eyes glistened in the room's light. The midnight void of his pupils spreading. Devouring. Drinking what little light he had while doing nothing to quell his tears.

Watching them run down his cheeks hurt. Reading the stories they wrote. The stories of love, of loss, of pain, of agony. Forever staining his flushed cheeks because no amount of kisses could make it better.

" We can't, love. You know we would bring you back, but we can't. You have to stay here."

But nothing hurt more than saying goodbye. Nothing hurt more than hearing him beg as he was led away. Hearing his screams echo no matter how far.

They would take better care of him. I told myself again, and again. They could help him. They could do better than us.

Those words doing nothing to drown out my baby's pleas. They didn't stop the pain. The didn't stop my tears. They didn't stop me from collapsing into Jonah's arms. They didn't stop us from sinking to the ground. They didn't stop our sobs. Our curses to what ever God had done this to him.

Those words didn't stop the guilt, either. If Jonah had fallen in love with someone else. If Daniel had had another father. Would things have happened differently? Would Jonah have ever come here? Would Daniel ever forget?

Would our world be crashing down like it was now?

893