Together, they entered her room, where Sahil sat at the desk. Seeing them, he stood, arms open, "There you both are. Come here, my dears."
Helios glanced at Layla before rushing forward to embrace his father, who held them both tightly.
"Are you done for the day, Father?" Helios asked, stepping back.
Sahil nodded, resting his chin against Layla's hair, "Yeah, today wasn't too busy."
As Helios took a seat, Layla reached for a file on the desk. She placed it before him. The name written on the cover sent a sudden cold weight pressing against Helios' chest. 'Poseidon Ageil'. His fingers clenched involuntarily against his thighs.
"The thing is…" Layla hesitated, "Poseidon's condition is very serious this time."
Helios swallowed, his heartbeat suddenly too loud in his ears.
"We won't be able to discharge him for a—while. A long while. His seizures come without warning, without a pattern. And, even in his sleep now, which is beyond dangerous," she continued. Helios' throat felt dry, "T-then…?" "We've tried IVIG[1] and plasmapheresis[2], but nothing is stabilizing him. His rehabilitation is taking longer each time. This time, when his legs were paralyzed, it took a month before he could walk again, and even now, he isn't at his best," Layla explained.
Sahil exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair, "Karin knows about it too. Poseidon's case is severe. If we don't take action soon, we risk permanent paralysis or, worse… respiratory failure."
Cold sweat beaded on Helios' forehead. His grip tightened on the book in his hands, as if he needed something—anything—to hold onto. He struggled for breath, as if the room had closed in on him. His voice quivered, "W-what should we do then…?"
Layla's answer sent ice through his veins, "A surgery, Helios."
His head snapped up, "A surgery…?"
"A high-risk, experimental neurological procedure. It has only a fifty percent survival rate," Layla admitted, her voice steady, though her hands trembled.
The world blurred around Helios. He shook his head instinctively, "A-a h-igh-risk, experimental neurological p-procedure…?" "N-no… you can't. Nobody can… I won't allow it." He rejected it almost instantly.
Sahil placed a firm hand on his back but Helios kept shaking his head, as though trying to shake off a nightmare. "A fifty percent survival rate? No way. No way in hell. What if… what if…" The words caught in his throat. He looked at his mother, eyes burning red, "No… Mother. Please…"
Layla lowered her gaze, her unshed tears glistening.
"We don't have a choice, Heli," Sahil said, his grip tightening on Helios' shoulder, grounding him, "Either we watch him suffer and lose him… or we take the risk."
Helios swallowed hard, "W-what did Aunt Karin say?"
Layla sighed, "What could she say?"
Helios' pulse pounded in his ears, "And Poseidon…?"
Layla shook her head, "He doesn't know. And none of us can bear to tell him. Someone he trusts needs to break the news."
In that moment, it felt as if the weight of the entire world had crashed down onto Helios' shoulders. All his boasting, all his promises to Poseidon, it was as if they had come back to mock him. Had he not declared that he would make sure Poseidon lived? And now, how was he supposed to tell him that he had only a fifty percent chance? That survival was a gamble? A shiver ran down his spine.
He had always loved being a doctor. Always wanted to be one. Being a beacon of hope, a light in the darkness. Never had he hesitated. Never had he feared. Yet now, all those ideals felt like a cruel test. One he was terrified he couldn't pass.
He was afraid. No. He was petrified. But he exhaled, steadied himself, and forced a smile, fragile and broken, "I'll try… If I can, I'll talk to him."
Sahil and Layla exchanged worried looks.
"You don't have to force yourself, Helios," Sahil murmured.
Helios shook his head and stood. "It's nothing, dad. Don't worry." His voice was quiet, as if speaking too loudly would crack whatever composure he had left, "If… there's nothing else, shall I take my leave?" There was a silent plea in his tone.
Layla nodded, seeing the truth pressing down on him, "Yeah and I am sorry, my love."
Helios shook his head, turned, whispering, "Don't be. You are doing your best and thank you." And then he closed the door behind him.
Outside, Helios stood with his back against the wall, his heart pounding violently. It felt as though his legs might give out at any moment. His mind was in complete turmoil. He had assured them to do it, to tell Poseidon everything. But… how?
---
In the days that followed, silence and deep contemplation consumed Helios. The world around him moved, but his mind remained distant, detached. Whenever someone called his name, he would startle slightly before forcing a smile, nodding in agreement, and retreating once more into quietude. His laughter had all but disappeared, his appetite waned, and sleep came only in brief, restless intervals.
Poseidon noticed every subtle shift. The way Helios would abruptly end their conversations, how he lingered whenever Poseidon so much as twitched, watching, waiting, but never saying a word.
And that silence unnerved Poseidon more than anything. He had asked, of course, but Helios always deflected, brushing it off with vague excuses: exhaustion, the pressure of the approaching assessments. Words Poseidon had never once heard him utter before.
And just like that, summer arrived.
A golden afternoon spilled its light into Poseidon's room, warming the lingering chill of winter. Sitting on the floor, bathed in soft sunrays, Poseidon curled his knees to his chest, his head resting against his mother's lap. Her fingers gently ran through his hair, massaging his scalp with slow, deliberate strokes. The fresh scent of olive oil enveloped them.
"How is it?" Karin asked, her voice brimming with warmth as she gazed down at him.
Poseidon smiled up at her, his gentle blue eyes gleaming, "So comforting… your hands feel like cotton."
"See? I told you," Karin teased lightly, rubbing his temples before trailing her fingers to his ears, giving them a playful tickle, "A massage is invigorating! Your little brain will work twice as hard now."
Poseidon chuckled, his laughter soft, "Haha… that tickles."
Karin giggled too, clearly amused by his reaction. But beneath that laughter, her heart was heavy. Could she show it? Could she let him see? While he struggled to walk in the gait training room, she had been forced to watch, helpless, her only solace in silent prayers.
When he collapsed without warning, she rushed to his side, barely able to support him. And yet, every time, Poseidon smiled—a bright, reassuring smile, promising her he would be fine. On nights when he woke gasping for breath, trembling in pain, he would still nod, eyes glistening with determination, as if to convince even the universe that he would be alright. As a mother, how was she supposed to endure this?
And now, the impending risk of surgery, one with only a half chance of survival. He didn't even know. Just the thought made her breath hitch, her vision blur. Her fingers, still moving through his hair, trembled. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
But even though Poseidon was looking straight ahead, he felt it. The way her hands shook, the way her breathing wavered. A faint, helpless smile tugged at his lips. Then, in a soft voice, he called, "Mother?"
Karin quickly composed herself, "Y-yes? What is it? Do you want me to massage somewhere else?"
Poseidon shifted, sitting cross-legged in front of her. He took her hands in his, gently rubbing them, his touch light and deliberate. Under the golden light, his disheveled, oil-slicked white curls shimmered like frost.
Silence wrapped around them like a fragile cocoon, neither of them daring to break it. As if they both knew how precious this moment was.
Poseidon had seen it. The way Karin had grown weaker. Her hands, thinner than before. The once vibrant glow of her golden-brown hair, now duller. He had worried her so much that she had begun neglecting herself. "Mother…" he called softly, his voice feather-light, tinged with guilt.
"Yes?" Karin responded, her voice tender.
"Could you and Father… forgive me?" Poseidon asked lovingly, remorsefully.
Karin's breath caught. Her eyes widened, "W-what?"
Poseidon nodded, his lips trembling, the cracks in his carefully built façade beginning to show. Unable to hold it in any longer, he lowered his head, pressing his forehead against her hands. His voice wavered, his words barely a whisper, "Ever since I came into this world… I made your life a mess. I stole your strength instead of giving you mine. I… never gave you anything except worry after worry."
Karin shook her head, squeezing his hands, "N-no, love, what are you saying? Y-you didn't do anything—"
"I know…" Poseidon interrupted, his voice breaking. "I know better than anyone else." he sniffled, lifting his gaze. Tears trickled down his cheeks, shimmering in the golden light. "That's why…" His voice cracked, raw with emotion, "I want you to take care of yourself more. Take care of Father more. Smile a lot more. I want your hands to be strong, your hair to grow long and shine like before. I want you to be happy… to be safe…"
The words he couldn't say weighed heavy in his heart, "Before I leave." "I-I love you…" he whispered. "So much. More than I can ever say… so please… please, forgive me." His voice dissolved into quiet hiccups.
Karin sobbed, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. Bending down, she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead before pulling him into a warm embrace. "Shh… don't cry, don't c-cry," she soothed, her voice shaking, "And d-don't you dare think like that, silly. You are my heartbeat. My reason to wake up every day."
Pulling back slightly, she wiped his tears away, lifting his chin until their eyes met. Then, with a tender smile, she whispered, "Live, and see me like that. That's my only request, my lovely little sea."
Live? How? Until when…? Poseidon battled the uncertainty yet nodded, swallowing back his emotions, pushing his tears aside, and forcing a smile. Even though his heart ached, even though pain lingered in every corner of his existence. This moment was worth it. Every single day he got to see her was a gift. A priceless treasure.
[1] Intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) is a pooled antibody, and a biological agent used to manage various immunodeficiency states and a plethora of other conditions, including autoimmune, infectious, and inflammatory states. The ultimate goal of this therapy is to normalize a compromised immune system.
[2] Plasmapheresis is the removal, treatment, and return or exchange of blood plasma or components thereof from and to the blood circulation. It is a process that filters the blood and removes harmful antibodies. It is done similarly to dialysis; however, it specifically removes antibodies from the plasma portion of the blood.