He appeared weary, and older than what he probably should. His hair was long, grayed. His eyes held a distant, almost fearful gaze, encircled by deep, dark shadows. Face consumed, as well as his whole flesh. He was thin and his white pants were loose over him. This was not the man I had envisioned, not the faint memory I held. But what could I even expect? I only wanted to meet him, and this was him. He was too different from the man I vaguely remembered.

My hands trembled, seeking refuge within the folds of my sleeves as I faced him, unable to meet his gaze once I realized he, too, was staring at me.

"Hello, Dad," Rudolph spoke first.

"Boys," his voice cracked with emotion, "I'm so sorry."

His unexpected apology caught me off guard, stirring conflicting emotions within me.

"You don't have to apologize," I blurted out, driven by a sudden impulse to soothe him, though I questioned the validity of my words. Rud also seemed a bit shocked by my outburst.

He then continued to whisper, his words barely audible amidst the heaviness of the room. Glancing at Rudolph for guidance, I found myself at a loss for what to do. Where to stare? What to say? I don't know, and for the first time I think, Rud knows either. Our father's murmurs kept filling the room.

Curiosity gnawed at me - what affliction had brought him to this place? Perhaps I could ask Rudolph later, once the visit had passed.

Amidst his fragmented whispers, only one phrase punctuated the silence: 'No, I must...'

I was just wondering what could that mean, when his murmurs became louder.

"I... shouldn't have... Everything was my fault..." he confessed, his gaze piercing between Rudolph and me. "Your brother remembers, but you don't."

His sudden attention jolted me.

"Rudolph," he spoke as he got closer to the barrier, placing his hands in the glass, "could you give us a moment alone?" He pleaded.

I watched as Rudolph tensed visibly, his reluctance palpable. "I don't think so," he muttered.

"Please," my father implored, his desperation evident.

Rudolph looked at me, worry evident in his eyes. He didn't want to leave me alone, and I wasn't sure either if it would be a good idea to be left alone with him.

Despite that, I needed to talk to him, but I didn't know how or where to start. If Rud left us alone, maybe that would help, or maybe not. It was hard to think at this moment. And I could only look at Rud, who knew me better than I knew myself.

He finally sighed, "that's definitely not a good idea."

"What are you afraid of?" dad asked tentatively.

"Don't misunderstand, it's his first time here."

"And I'm his father."

"Yeah, but you're-" he paused just before he finished what he was about to say, shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm what?" Dad pressured.

Rudolph's eyes darted around the room, seeking an escape from the impending confrontation.

"I'M MAD, IS THAT SO?" dad erupted, his voice reverberating off the walls before he dissolved into laughter. "I'm insanely mad, but it's okay, look," he jabbed at the glass, "it's okay, this won't bring us any closer to danger if that's what you're afraid of."

"Rud," I interjected, silently pleading for him to allow me to speak.

Driven by curiosity more than anything, I boldly made the decision to proceed.

"No, Rand, this is not fine," Rudolph insisted.

"I'll be fine," I countered, though I didn't fully believe my own words. I had to convince myself that I'd be alright, that I could handle whatever came my way. I had to be strong if I wanted something to come out of this.

Rudolph shifted uneasily, clearly skeptical of my assurances. It was silent for a while, and he was probably calculating the situation. Eventually, he relented and stood.

"I'll wait by the door. If I hear anything I don't like, or just get worried enough, I'll just come in."

I nodded in agreement, watching him leave with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. As Rudolph's gaze met mine once more, I silently conveyed the uncertainty plaguing my mind.

Once Rudolph left, the room seemed to close in on me, the air heavy with tension and uncertainty.

Turning to face my father, I forced myself to sound composed as I spoke. "Dad," I began, my voice trembling with uneasiness, "what did you want to talk about?"

His grin twisted into a sinister smirk as he leaned in closer, his breath fogging up the glass. "Him," he whispered, his voice dripping with menace. "He's always been here, you know. Watching, waiting..."

My horror surged, a torrent of questions and fears flooding my mind. "What do you mean?" I demanded, panic rising in my voice. "Who's always been here?"

But he only laughed, the chilling sound reverberating through the room. "Can't you feel it, Randy?" he taunted, his eyes ablaze with madness. "Can't you see him, lurking in the shadows?"

Lurking in the shadows...

A cold sweat broke out across my skin. Those words shouldn't have made any sense. Did he...?

The door banged open, and Rudolph burst in with two nurses rushing to restrain our father.

"It's time to go, Randy. Let's leave," Rudolph urged, his voice tinged with concern.

I followed silently, too stunned to respond as we hurried away from the chaotic scene. Seth's outbursts echoed behind us, a haunting reminder of the turmoil we had just witnessed.

"Jesus, I still can't believe we were allowed in. This was a terrible idea, Rand. I'm so sorry," Rudolph lamented, his voice heavy with regret.

"Huh?" I blinked back to reality as Rudolph pulled me into a hug. "I shouldn't have brought you here," he sighed. "Let's go."

As we stepped outside, a chill crept up my spine, leaving me unsettled. Was it lingering effects from the encounter or just a reaction? Regardless, my eyes refused to calm, the memory of my father's words still haunting me.

'It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing,' I repeated to myself, desperate to push away the lingering unease.

⎯⎯⎯✧࿓☾⎯⎯⎯

(some hours later)

"Oh, hello guys! How did the doctor's appointment go?" Agathe's enthusiastic yet concerned tone caught us off guard as we stood there, still mildly shocked by her exuberance.

A heavy silence hung in the air, Agathe's smile faltering slightly as she turned her attention to me. "What did the doctor say about him? I'm worried, you know?"

"He's fine," Rudolph replied tersely before swiftly retreating to his room, leaving me to face Agathe's inquiries alone.

"Are you alright then? Want to have some fruit?" she offered, concern etched on her features.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," I declined politely, seizing the opportunity to escape the uncomfortable situation.

"These boys," I heard her mutter to herself, her arms crossed as she returned to the sofa, likely to resume watching some old shows.

Alone in the hallway, I contemplated my next move. Shouldn't everything be fine now that we're back home? Yet, a nagging sense of unease gnawed at me, reminiscent of the chilling feeling I had experienced back at the asylum. Even my own room didn't feel safe anymore. Did I really want to go in?

Hesitating at the door, I noticed it was ajar. Hadn't I left it closed? With a gulp, I gently pushed it open, darkness enveloping the room. My nerves were on edge, anticipating something strange lurking within. 'It's nothing... It's...'

Suddenly, a voice shattered the silence, and I jumped in terror as Nathan emerged from the darkness with a prank. "Boo!"

"Ah! Fuck you, Nathan!" I exclaimed, clutching at my racing heart.

Nathan chuckled at his successful scare. "Oh man, that was epic!"

"Not at all!" I retorted, still shaken from the fright.

"You should lock this more often. Next time, it might not be me inside," Nathan teased, his words sending a shiver down my spine.

Brushing off his remarks, I pushed past him and locked myself in my room, his faint giggles fading away as he walked off. Despite my attempts to dismiss his words, an unsettling feeling lingered, and I hated that his words- words supposed to be nonsense, were actually what made me more afraid.

'Whatever.'

I just plopped over my bed, hoping a nap before dinner might help me.