❝JUST HOLD ME❞
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chapter fourteen,
Gilmore Girls — Season Four

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒
―୨୧⋆ ˚ LUCY'S POV
( warning: lot of sadness )

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       𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋. He had a heart attack, and he'll be needing emergency surgery. He's in and out of consciousness, often rambling on about nothing. Tristan's mother and sister are in his room, holding his hands and talking to him while Tristan stays outside, pressed back against the wall with his head in his hands.

  I lean back against the wall with him, my hand on his arm. I know I'm not bringing a great deal of comfort to him, but I'm just trying to be here. When he called me, I had just gotten out of the shower, so I'm currently at the hospital with wet hair, but I don't care. I need to be here for Tristan and his family.

He hasn't been inside his father's hospital room, and I haven't pushed him to go in either. His father is being prepped for surgery── that's why Lisa and Mary are inside── but Tristan doesn't want to go inside.

I understand that he and his father don't get along, so I can't even imagine how he's feeling about his father being in hospital. I rest my head against his arm, continuing to comfort him, and Tristan reaches for my hand. "Hey," I whisper, squeezing his hand.

"I'm not going in there."

"And you don't need to." My other hand reaches up, touching the back of his neck. "Do you need me to get you anything? Do you want me to call anyone?"

He shakes his head, and his head leans back into my touch. "I just need you here, Blue."

"Okay." I press a kiss against his shoulder.

Two minutes later, Lisa and Mary step out of the room. Lisa has tears in her eyes, and she immediately steps towards Tristan, pressing her head against his side. Tristan places an arm around her shoulders, holding his little sister.

Mary smiles at me, I smile back politely, and then she turns to her son. "Tristan, you need to go in there," she says as calmly as possible, but he shakes his head.

"No, Mom. I'm not going in there."

She sighs, stepping towards him. "Sweetheart, he's your father. You need to go in there."

"No, I do not need to go in there."

"Tristan, please. I don't want to──"

"I'm not going in there, Mom."

"Tristan." Her voice is stern, annoyed, and frustrated, but Tristan doesn't budge. He obviously does not want to go in there, and I don't think anyone can force him── not even me. I'm not even sure I want to push him inside that room. It's his decision whether he goes in that room or not.

He shakes his head, and he's letting go of my hand and moving away from Lisa. "Tristan." He barges past his mother, moving down the hall to the waiting room.

I look down the hall, watching as he turns a corner, and I press my head back against the wall. I know I should go after him, but I also imagine he needs some time to himself, so I'm going to give him some space for a few minutes, and then I'll go find him.

Lisa looks up at me, eyes rimmed with tears, and I reach out to place my arm around her shoulders. She doesn't pull away, she just steps into my comfort, and she wraps her arms around my waist, clinging onto me.

Mary stands in front of me, and she looks disheveled. Her hair hasn't been washed, her eyes have dark circles, and no makeup covers her face. The last time I saw her, she looked so polished, and so fake. Today, I'm seeing the raw version of Mary Dugray, and I'm not sure I like it. She looks like she's in pain, and I wish I could do something to help, but all I can do is hug Lisa and stay here for Tristan.

"Do you guys need me to get you anything?" I ask, but Mary shakes her head, and Lisa clings onto me tighter, burying her head into my hip.

"N-No. Just you being here for Tristan is..." She exhales loudly. "Well, that's enough."

"If you guys need anything, I'm──"

"I'm going to go..." Mary begins to walk away, mumbling something to herself that I don't hear.

I hold onto Lisa, bend down slightly, and place a hand against her tearstained cheek. "Have you eaten?" She shakes her head, and I place my hand in hers. "How about I give you some money and you can go to the vending machine?"

"Do you think Tristan will want something?"

I smile at the little girl, finding it sweet that even in a crisis, she's worried about her brother. "Yeah, I think he'd like that."

I reach into my bag, pulling out all the change I have. I place the money into Lisa's open palm, smiling kindly at the girl. "Thank you," she says softly, closing her palm around the money. "Do you want anything?"

I shake my head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "No, I'm okay, but thank you. Buy as much as you want, and get something to drink too, okay? I'll come meet you in a minute."

She nods, turns away, and walks down the hall. I stand up, and I stare at the door that opens to Geoffrey Dugray's room. I know I should just go with Lisa, but there's something I need to say before he is sent to surgery, so I step towards the door, and I stare at the handle for a few minutes, contemplating.

I don't know what condition he's in. I've only ever been in the hospital for myself, not for anyone else in my family, so this feels like something I shouldn't do as he's technically not my family. However, regardless of that fact, I still want to go inside.

I push open the door, and I step inside, coming to a stop when I see the state he's in.

He doesn't look like the confident, powerful man I met three years ago. He looks so... small. He doesn't stand tall like he did that night I met him. He doesn't reek of business and strength. He looks sullen and glum. He's not intimidating or threatening, he just looks weak and exhausted. He looks nothing like the man I met years ago, and it's difficult to see such a strong-willed man get knocked down to this.

  I close the door behind me, and his head jerks to one side. He mutters something under his breath, his body shaking against the bed.

I clear my throat, stepping a little closer. "Mr. Dugray, it's..." I chew down on my bottom lip, suddenly feeling anxious. Perhaps I shouldn't have come in here. "...it's me, Lucy. I, uh, just wanted to..." I step closer, my throat constricting. "I don't know why I'm here actually. I mean, I'm here for Tristan and f-for Lisa, but I don't know why I'm here, in this room."

His eyes remain closed, and his body twitches again, surprising me. "Tristan doesn't want to come in here, but I guess I'm not surprised. You two never..." I sigh loudly, stepping a little closer to his bedside. "Your son is incredible," I continue. "He is sweet, and loving, and the kindest guy I know. I don't know how he came to be that way with you as his father, but he is the most selfless guy I know."

I dig my nails into the material of my jeans. "When you get out of this surgery, I want you to make of an effort with him, because your son is brilliant. He has such a good mind, and such a big heart. He deserves to have a father and a mother. A son should want to be at his father's beside when he's sick, but he's not here because you've hurt him his entire life, so when this surgery is over..." I take a step back, deciding to leave after I finish my sentence. "...I want you to take a step back from work because nobody, especially a fifty-nine-year-old man, should be nearly dead over work that doesn't even matter── not when you've got two incredible kids, and a kind wife."

  I continue to back away, making my way to the door. "I-I'm gonna go. J-Just don't die, alright?"

  I reach for the door handle, and Geoffrey stirs awake, coughing and spluttering. I turn back to him, and I find his eyes on me. "L-Lucy."

  I swallow down the lump in my throat. "Yes?"

  "L-Look af──" He clears his throat loudly, his body jerking. "──after t-that boy."

  His eyes close, and he turns away from me.

  I stand and stare for a few seconds, and then I grab the handle, pushing the door back open. It clicks shut behind me, and I step to one side as a nurse steps into the room, obviously ready to bring him down to surgery.

I reach into my back pocket for my cellphone, and I dial the one person I need right now.

After several rings, the line picks up.

"Hey, Dad."

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       𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒. When I called Dad, he rushed to the hospital with food for everybody. So far Lisa is the only one that's eaten, but the food isn't going anywhere.

Tristan is sat alongside me, hand laid across my lap, and I hold onto his hand tightly. He hasn't spoken since he stormed off from his mother, so I have no idea what he's thinking or feeling, but I'm here for him, and so is my dad.

Dad hates hospitals, but because I asked him to be here, he showed up, and I'm just really grateful. My dad watched my grandpa die in a hospital, so he understands how Tristan must be feeling, but we're holding out hope that Geoffrey will be absolutely fine. He'll have the surgery, he'll recover, and he'll cut back on work.

  Well, I hope he cuts back on work. I think he heard me earlier, but I'm not sure if it's processed in his head. I just hope he does take my words into consideration if he did hear me, and if he didn't, I'll repeat them over and over and over again until he listens.

I lean into Tristan, resting my chin on his shoulder. "Do you wanna take a walk?" I suggest, hoping he'll talk to me if we're alone.

He hums in response, nodding his head.

I turn away from Tristan, leaning towards Dad. "Will you be okay? We're gonna take a walk."

"I'll be fine, kid." He looks past me, looking to Tristan who looks very dazed. "Just keep an eye on him, alright?"

I look at Tristan, tugging on his hand as he stands up. "Yeah, I will," I say softly, smiling to Dad before I stand up with Tristan, and we move out of the very depressing waiting room.

  We take the elevator down to the bottom floor, and we move outside the hospital to take a walk around the grounds. Some fresh air── cold fresh air might do him some good. Cold air won't do me any good because I currently have wet hair, so if I catch a cold, I won't be all that surprised.

  Tristan pushes his hand in mine, and he pulls me forward, moving us down the nearest path. I lean close to him, resting my cheek against his arm, and wrapping my free hand around his arm. "Tristan," I whisper softly, brushing my thumb over his knuckle. "Talk to me."

  "I-I don't know how I feel, Luce." He exhales, squeezing my hand. "I feel sad for my sister, but I-I don't care about my father, Lucy. I didn't go in that room because I can't talk to him. I can't even look at that man without feeling mad."

"I know."

"He's never been a dad to me, Lucy. He's never cared about me, or wanted to know me. He's..." He shakes his head. "...not a good guy, and even though he's in hospital, I can't even muster up a little bit of sympathy because he did this to himself. For my entire life, he's worked and worked and worked. Honestly, I'm surprised he didn't have a heart attack sooner."

  We sit down on a bench, and Tristan releases my hand. "I hate that man, Lucy, and everything he represents. His entire life is that damn company. I mean, he's willing to die over it, can you believe that? He's got a whole family, and he couldn't care less."

  I slide my hand onto his knee. "I'm sorry."

  "I just..." Tristan looks to me. "...I look at what you and Luke have, and I want that. I wish that I could say that I love my dad like you love your dad, but I can't, Lucy. I don't love that man── I have never loved that man."

  His head falls forward into his hands, and I squeeze his knee gently, leaning my face into his arm. "I know, Tristan." I run my other hand down his back, rubbing soothing circles. "You don't deserve that, and neither does Lisa. It's unfair that you've never had that bond with your dad, and I'm sorry that you never did, but there is still time, you know?"

  He shakes his head. "N-No. I don't want a relationship with him, Lucy. I don't wanna know him, but I don't want him to die."

  I nod, moving my hand to rest against the back of his neck. "Yeah. I mean, nobody wants their parent to die, even if they hurt you and──"

  "Lucy," Tristan interrupts, and I clamp my mouth shut. "If he dies, the company goes to me, and I-I can't have that. I-I can't take over his company── I have never wanted the company." Strangely, I wasn't expecting him to say that. "This is his way of trapping me. If he dies, I get lumped with that damn company── the company that's slowly killing him── and I can't have that, Lucy. I-I can't."

  "Okay." I move in closer, moving my fingers through his hair. "It's okay."

  He shakes his head, his breathing ragged. "I don't wanna be him, Lucy. I-I don't want to be him." His voice cracks, and my chest tightens.

  "Tristan, you are not him, and you will never, ever become him." I reach my hand up, touching his face, and forcing him to turn his face so he can look directly at me as I speak, "You are the kindest guy in the world, Tristan. You have such a big heart, and an even bigger smile." My finger moves, resting against his bottom lip. "You are nothing like that man, Tristan, do you hear me? You're selfless, understanding, compassionate, and so, so loving. You work so hard to not be your father, and I admire that. You are going to be something wonderful in the future, Tristan Dugray, I already know it."

  Tristan lifts his hand, placing it over my hand that lays on his cheek. Something of a smile touches his lips, and I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his. "I love you. I admire you. I respect you. I am so, so proud of you. You are nothing like your father, okay? You are your own person, and that person is pretty freaking great. I love that person, more than anything else in the world."

  Tristan leans forward, pushing his mouth on mine for a brief second. "What did I do?" His voice is so quiet that I can barely hear him. "What did I do to deserve you?"

  I exhale a laugh. "Hey," I breathe out. "What did I do to deserve you?"

  "I love you." He squeezes my hand. "Thank you for being here, Luce. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  "I'm not going anywhere, Tristan."

We stand up, and continue with our walk, walking hand-in-hand. We walk for about fifteen minutes, and when we walk back into the hospital, Tristan leaves me to sit with his sister who is thoroughly enjoying a burger from Luke's. Mary is sipping on a cup of water, her foot tapping against the floor anxiously.

I move to sit with my dad, and he hands me a cup of water which I take gratefully. I sit down, leaning my head into Dad's arm. "You okay?"

I nod, looking to Lisa who smiles up at her big brother. "I'm okay."

"Is Tristan okay?"

"He will be," I answer, still a little unsure on how he's really feeling. All I know is that he doesn't want his dad to die, not because he cares about him, but because he doesn't want to be trapped by his dad's company. I might never understand how he's feeling, but I'm glad he talked to me, and I hope I made him feel just an ounce better.

  I lift my head, and I turn to my dad── the man who is nothing like Tristan's dad. I'm incredibly lucky that I ended up with Luke Danes for my father, and after hearing Tristan talk about his, and how he's hurt, and how he doesn't feel that love for his dad that I do for mine, I just want my dad to know that I'm unbelievably grateful.

  "Dad." He turns to me. "Thank you for being here. I know you hate hospitals, so I'm just really thankful that you showed up."

  "This is Tristan," he says casually. "I'm here for him just as much as I'm here for you."

  "Thank you."

  "No problem, kid. I'm always going to be here, whether you're at a hospital or not."

  "And thank you for..." I exhale, smiling. "...for not being Geoffrey. I mean, he doesn't realise how great his kids are, but you do. You're always there for me, for Addy, for Rory, for Tristan. You're a really amazing dad, and everybody should have a dad like you."

  Dad smiles back at me. "I appreciate that, Luce. That means a lot."

  "I'm just really happy I got you as my dad."

  "And I'm really happy I got you as my kid, my little fluke."

  I lean forward, resting my head on his shoulder again, and his arm rests around me. I look to Tristan who is now walking towards me, and he sits down on the other side of me.

  I lift my head, and Tristan places a hand on my knee. "Hey, could you take Lisa home to get a couple things? She wants to pick up some stuff for my dad for when he gets out of surgery."

  "I could do it," Dad suggests.

  "No, it's fine," I insist. "I'll take her home. I could do with a drive."

  "I brought the truck. Do you wanna take that?"

  "Yeah, sure." Dad hands me the keys.

  Tristan leans in, kissing me quickly. "Thank you, baby." He looks to his sister who is finishing a cup of coke. "Come on, Lis. Luce is gonna take you back home."

Lisa stands up, rushing towards me, and she slips her hand in mine to drag me along. "We'll be back soon. Will you be okay, Dad?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll be fine."

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―୨୧⋆ ˚ TRISTAN'S POV

𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐘. I'm not sure how long this procedure takes, but it's really dragging, and all I want to do is leave. Sitting here, waiting and waiting in a room that smells like death isn't something I saw myself doing this morning, but then my mother called, hysterical about my father collapsing.

Apparently, for a while, his heart has been weak, but he's continued to work and work and work because, of course, Geoffrey Dugray does not give a crap about his health. He cares more about annual budgets and tax reports for his company, and now his health has caught up with him, and now he's having heart surgery. I hate to say "I told you so", but I knew this would happen one day, it was just a matter of when.

  My mom── the woman who has hated him for nearly thirty years── is inconsolable, and I can't figure out why. He's not even dead, and she's grieving for whatever reason. I haven't spoken to her, but I don't think she wants to talk to me either after I refused to go see my dad before he was wheeled off to surgery.

  Lisa asked me if she could go get him a bunch of things from home for when he gets out of surgery, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that he doesn't deserve a damn thing, so I sent her away with Lucy to grab stuff from the house. I'm now in the waiting room with my mother and my girlfriend's father, waiting to hear news on my father.

  There was a blockage or something in his heart, and they're performing an emergency bypass surgery── open-heart surgery. Like any surgery, there's the risk of, you know, death, but that selfish bastard will probably outlive me, so I don't really need to worry. I feel sad for my sister because she loves our father for whatever reason. I mean, she's young, so she doesn't understand the extent of being the oldest and the heir to the stupid Dugray fortune── something I have zero interest in.

  I know his damn company will go to me if he dies because, even in his death, he wants to torture me. I have no interest in running his company, but he doesn't care. This will be my punishment for not being the picture-perfect son, for not going to Princeton, for not going to school for business. If my father dies, it'll be the death of me too. I have no idea how I'd run a company, especially at nineteen-years-old, so I'd probably sell the stupid thing, but that would just cause more arguments and fights that I really, really don't have time for.

  Without even being here, my father still manages to stress me out. Damn him.

I called Logan earlier, and I told him that he didn't need to stop by. I already have Lucy and Luke here, and if another person I care about sits with me, I think I will lose my mind. After talking with Lucy earlier, I said a lot of things that were horrible. I mean, my father is having surgery, and I was spewing on and on about how cruel he is, but she consoled me regardless. I don't know how I ever got so damn lucky with her, but I'm beyond grateful that she drove here to be with me today. She managed to get my sister and my mother to eat or drink something and I'm just so relieved to have her here.

Logan said he'd be here in a heartbeat if I need anything, but I don't think I need a thing. I'm okay── probably more okay than an average person waiting to hear about their father in surgery, but those average people don't have my dad as their dad, so that's why I'm surprisingly calm.

I look over at Luke who, despite hating hospitals ever since his father passed away when Lucy was four, is sitting here with a family that he barely knows. I applaud him for being a great guy, and I applaud him for being an even greater father to Lucy.

In the future, when I eventually have kids, I hope to be like Luke Danes because he is a damn good father. He loves his kid easily. He supports her regardless of what she does. He raised her all on his own, and she turned out pretty perfect.

  I wish I could have a dad like him but I can't. Instead, I got stuck with a guy who spends every waking second stuck in an office. I was lumped with a man who spent my entire childhood drilling into me about how I was going to take over his company in the future, so I needed to learn the way of business at a young age. My father never played with me as a kid, never threw a ball with me, or helped me with homework. He never helped me move into college, or even say the words, "Well done on getting into college." No, I don't even think my father has uttered the words, "I love you" to me, or to anyone for that matter.

  That's the father I have.

  I wasn't lucky enough to have the life that Lucy and Luke have, but I'd do anything to have that.

  The only lesson my father ever taught me was that, when I eventually become a father, I will never, ever be him. I won't put work above my kids or my wife like he did. I won't go out of town for prolonged periods of time, cheating on said wife, and ruining my relationship with my kids. I won't become Geoffrey Dugray, I can confidently say that.

  Besides, Lucy looked me dead in the eye and told me I wouldn't become my father, and I trust her. I trust that she's right because I can't afford to become that man.

Speaking of that man I unfortunately get to call my father, Dr. Goldstein steps into the waiting room, and my mom shoots up first. "Dugray?"

"Is he okay?" There's desperation behind her voice, and I can't figure out why. No offence to my mother, but she loathes her husband, almost as much as I loathe him as a father. Perhaps she's putting on an act, or maybe she genuinely is concerned. I can't figure it out.

Am I heartless? I haven't got an ounce of sympathy for him── I can't find it deep within me to care about his condition.

Dr. Goldstein looks from me to my mother, and that single look in his eye is sorrow── I've seen it before. I'm familiar with the look of apology, so there's only question that I can think to ask, and it comes out harsher than I intended it to.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

My mother gasps, turning to me, and smacking her hand against my arm. "Don't say that."

I keep staring at the doctor. "He's dead," I repeat, my throat annoyingly swelling with this thing I don't like: emotion. "Right?"

Dr. Goldstein nods, dropping his head. "There were complications, and──" I don't hear the rest of that sentence. I'm moving, walking away from my mother who is now wailing and crying out for my father in the middle of the waiting room.

I don't know where I'm walking to, but my heart is racing, and my feet are moving quickly to get out of this suffocating room. I barge through double doors, nearly knocking into a patient as I pick up my pace, moving as fast as humanly possible to get myself out of this hospital.

I can't listen to my mother cry, not over him.

My sister isn't here, but she'll be back soon and I'll have to be the one to break it to her because my mother won't be able to get a freaking word out.

I come crashing through the doors that lead to outside, and I lean back against the wall, breathing heavily and loudly. My chest tightens, my heart pounds, and I suck in sharp breaths, but I feel like I'm having my own version of a heart attack. I clutch a hand to my chest, digging my fingers into my shirt.

I close my eyes, count to ten to try and even my breathing, but I can't stop... panicking. My eyes open, and I'm greeted with an unfamiliar haze. Everything seems blurred, and my eyes feel warm. I close them again, wishing for the emotion in my eyes to swell up and disappear. I cannot── will not── cry over him.

I sink down against the wall, a hand still on my chest, and my eyes stay closed. I squeeze my eyes tightly, wishing for this entire day to be some big cosmic joke, but I know it's not.

My father is dead.

The man I've hated for nineteen years is dead.

And I'm emotional. I'm angry. I'm crying. I'm pissed off. I'm panicking.

I find that I'm the one who has to act as my father. The company will go to me. I'll be the one who has to break this news to Lisa instead of my mother. I'll need to sort out his funeral because my damn mother will be too busy grieving to help me. I'll have to do all the things as the eldest, as the "man of the house" as my father always used to say when I was growing up.

  But I've built my own life. I'm nineteen. I'm at college. I've got a girlfriend I'm madly in love with. I've got a life away from my family, and I'm satisfied with it── I can't let it go.

I inhale sharply, my chest stinging. I'm not sure what I'm experiencing right now, but every part of my body hurts, and I hate how this feels.

Wake me up from this nightmare please.

Even when alive, my father was dead to me, but now he's dead, and I'm stuck with all the mess he left behind. In life, he's selfish. In death, he's just a cruel, egotistical bastard.

A hand touches my arm, and I flinch, my eyes opening to find somebody I honestly didn't expect to find. "Hey, it's okay." Another unsteady breath falls from my mouth, and my chest squeezes, but I can't inhale enough air to stop the pain in my body.

My chest heaves rapidly, and I flatten a palm against my beating heart as I look to somebody I'm very familiar with.

Crouching down alongside me is Luke── my girlfriend's father. He has a hand on my shoulder, obviously trying to keep me in this reality, but my breathing doesn't calm, and my anxiety only flares.

  "Tristan, breathe."

  "I-I──"

  "It's okay, just breathe," he instructs, speaking loudly and clearly in my ear, and I suck in a sharp breath, keeping my hand over my rapid heart. "Exhale, Tristan." I exhale a stuttered breath, and Luke squeezes tightly on my shoulder. "Okay, inhale again."

  I do as told, inhaling sharply once again, and exhaling carefully. I don't know how many times I inhale and exhale, but my heart stops pounding loudly in my ears, and my breathing becomes levelled. Somewhere in the midst of it all, I reached out and balanced a hand on Luke's arm, and I slid down to fully sit on the concrete path outside the hospital door.

  Several people have walked by, but nobody pays me any attention. I keep inhaling and exhaling, focusing on breathing rather than anything else. Once it evens out, and I don't feel like I'm on the verge of having a panic attack any longer, the tears I was suppressing before start to swell in my eyes, and I quietly curse them out, but I can't stop them this time.

  I shake my head, reaching a hand up to brush my eyes because I will not cry in front of my girlfriend's father.

  "It's okay," Luke assures, keeping a hand balanced on my shoulder. "You can cry, Tristan."

  "No." I bite down on my lip, praying for the tears to disappear. "God, no." My head falls forward. "I-I can't cry, not over him. He is── was──" I exhale a laugh, realising I now have to use past tense when referring to my father. "I hated him. I-I──"

  "I know, kid."

  "I hated him." Tears fall, rolling down my cheeks and dropping at my chin, hitting my shirt. "I really, really hated him. I-I don't know why I'm crying." I close my eyes again, squeezing them shut tightly in the hopes that I can get rid of these tears, but more fall. "He had it coming to him, and that's a horrible thing to say, but he did. H-He only cared about that..." I suck in a sharp breath. "...that stupid..." A sob wrecks me, and my body slumps forward, but Luke is moving closer and my head hits his shoulder.

Feeling utterly defeated, I let myself fall apart in Luke's arms. I'm supposed to be stronger than this, especially in front of my girlfriend's father, but I can't muster up any bit of strength, just like I couldn't muster up any sympathy for my father. Why the hell am I crying like this?

Luke is holding me like I'm some sort of child, and the comfort is almost too much. It makes me realise that my father never hugged me. Hell, he'd never let me cry growing up, so I guess I'm crying for all those years of restraint.

I feel like a child right now, and it feels nice in a way to be comforted like I'm just a helpless kid. In a way, I guess I am. My father just died, and instead of mourning him, I'm mourning all those things he never, ever did for me── for all the times he made me feel small and weak.

My hands are limp at my sides, but Luke keeps an arm around me while I cry, louder than I ever have before, into his shoulder.

I should feel pathetic── crying to my girlfriend's father outside the hospital── but I feel safe to cry and mourn. I feel safe right here, and I can't quite explain it.

"I'm really sorry," Luke says, but he hasn't got a damn thing to apologise for. "I'm really sorry, kid. I know you hated him, and I know he didn't really know you, but it's his loss, alright? He had nineteen years to be your father, but he couldn't do it. He's not a good man, but you are, Tristan."

I don't feel like a good guy right now, but I nod my head regardless because I just listen to whatever the Danes' say to me. I trust Lucy and I trust Luke, so whatever they have to say to me, I'll agree with them.

I lift my head, and Luke keeps two hands on my shoulders. I lift my hand, wiping my face. "I'm sorry for──"

"You've got nothing to apologise for," Luke reassures. "You're only human, Tristan. You're allowed to cry for whatever reason, alright?"

I open my mouth to speak, but I'm silenced when I hear footsteps running towards me, and a voice that sounds very, very familiar to me. "Tristan." Lucy drops down next to me, hands already on my face. "Hey. Hey, is he──"

Luke stands up, and Lisa runs towards us.

Oh, God. I have to tell my baby sister that our father is dead, and she's carrying a bag of his belongings.

"Tristan?"

Luke places a hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Come on, kiddo. W-We'll head inside, alright? You can see your mom." Lisa nods weakly, and I look away from her because seeing her tiny crushed face will only make me cry more.

Luke begins to pull Lisa away, and Lucy moves close to me, holding my face in her hands.

"Luke?" I call out, and he turns to me.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." He nods, and then he turns away with my sister.

I turn to my girlfriend who has tears swelling in her eyes, and she presses her forehead against mine. She wraps her arm around my shoulders, and pulls me close to her. I lift my arms, hugging her back and crying once again.

In the space of two minutes, I find myself crying into the arms of another Danes'.

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soph speaks:

uh i'm sorry?

i'm incredibly impatient so i just post the second i finish a chapter lol

yes, tristan's father has passed away (sad???)

idk why i chose to kill off his dad, i just did 🤷🏻‍♀️

writing about tristan being this upset was horrible, and he'll be in a very strange, very difficult place for some time

we love protective dad luke thou,, he's got everybody's back

thankyou for reading . . . i'm SORRY!!!

i do not know how to write after this sad chapter,, i may have dug myself into a hole oops