My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

"Maybe this, whatever this is, maybe I had this coming," He weakly muttered, wheezing, as he lifted his quivering hands in front of him. "My punishment for wanting, for trying, and for failing… if so… then maybe I do deserve what I got coming for me." 

"Now you say that, after coming out to me like that," I said, shaking my head at him. "I know you don't mean that. You don't wanna die." 

"Of course, I don't want to die!" He snapped, flashing me a weak, desperate teary-eyed glare. "But if I did, so what? What's been lost? What's there to lose? There's nothing. I'm nothing!" 

"Stop!" I stood up. I didn't know why, but I was shaking. I wasn't angry, I wasn't even upset, but for some reason… I was just shaking, just shouting. "I'm not gonna listen to this! I don't want to listen to an old man cry and take pity on himself - I won't hear it, forget it, it's pathetic! You messed up, you fucked up! It's good you're owning up, it's good you feel bad, you should feel bad! You're a big asshole, that I can agree with you on. But what's this about dying? What's this about being nothing? You aren't nothing. There won't be just nothing! Dying, Mr. Williamns, dying! That changes everything!" 

"Yeah… you're… right, I die, something will… change," He gave me a hard stare, swallowing a big lump in his throat. "They'll be far… better off, won't they?" 

"Oh, stop already with that bullshit, please," I spat, exasperated by the sheer stupidity I was hearing. "How do you know that? How? You don't, alright? You don't know!" 

"Didn't you hear… a single word… I told you? My wife won't talk to me, my daughter hates me, and my son… really ought to! All I've ever done… was hurt them!" 

"And?" I challenged him. I didn't care how frail he suddenly looked, how he was now slurring his words almost half the time. He needed to know, he needed to understand. "What's your point?"

"You… heard me already," He heaved, his jaw in a tight clench. "They are better…. off without me. They… don't need me around."

"And like I said, you don't know that."

"I… do." 

"How, then? Did you hear them say it? Did they tell you that? Have you even talked to them? No, you didn't! So until you do, until you know, you can't say that you do know!" 

"I don't have to hear… them say it," He said, shaking his head feebly at me. "You weren't…. there, you don't… know. I saw it in her eyes. Hayley… she never… she never wants to see me again." 

"But you don't get to decide that for her," I told him quietly. "You don't get to decide that for anyone. How she feels about you, that's Hayley's choice to make, not yours. Your lies, your mistakes - what your daughter makes of it, it isn't your place to think for her."

"Aren't you… listening? She's already made up her mind… long ago…"

"Yes, that I'm sure she has," I nodded in agreement. "Would you care to find out, then? How she really feels about you? Just how long since you last heard her - it's about time, don't you think?"

Fading sights, choking breath, yet somehow, he managed to pull a face of utter confusion.

"W… What?" He asked.

I pulled my phone out from my still damp pocket, and raised it out towards him. Almost at once, the realization dawned on him, and he shrank away from me, wobbling, collapsing, as he dragged himself back, muttering as he did.

"No, no, I can't, don't… please don't… that's not how… she won't talk to me… and I don't deserve… to talk to her…" 

"How else would you know, then?" I asked. "What else do you got to lose?" 

"No, no…" He continued to slur, his stared dazed and distant. "I don't have… I don't need… to know… she doesn't… Hayley, I… I don't want to remind her… of me… especially… not like this…" 

"Especially because you're like this," I retorted. "You don't speak to her now, she may never hear you again." 

"And she'll be... all the more... better for it..." 

"This may be your last and only chance," I said. "If I can't save you, then you'll die never knowing.  Are you sure about this?" 

Harry stared at the phone in my hand for the longest time, and in that span, I noticed many things about him, his loss of focus, his struggle to keep his head from slumping, and his soft wheezing - once again, he was fighting, and once again, he was losing.

Anytime, any moment, that's what Dad told him, every second was precious, every moment mattered, and yet… Harry dropped his gaze, and with that last ounce of his strength, he shook his head.

"Turn.... the phone off..." He said, he demanded.

That's it, then. He'll never know, and if things go awry, he probably never will, he'll die thinking the same thing, that his death would mean nothing, but that was his choice, his decision. Like it or not, I have to respect it.

Yeah, like hell, I do.

I walked forward at him, my thumb in a rapid swipe against the display. Something even in his very weakened state, he found hard to ignore.

"What are you… doing?" He asked.

"Y'know, there's a good time to be selfless, but there's also a good time to be selfish, and one of the two is not what you should be right now," with a final press, I lightly toss my phone atop of his rising chest. "Remind me, why don't you… what kind of man are you again?" 

The sound of the dial tone resounded loud. Hearing it, Harry slowly lifted the display in front of him, the bright glare momentarily blinding him. Another ring, and Harry looked at me, trepidation in his ailing sights. I could almost hear the questions in his stare, the panic.

"Yeah, you talk, the detective's cover for you is blown," I answered him. "But that's not your problem. You let me worry about that."

Yet that did little to assure him, but then the dial tone suddenly ceased, and whatever was on his mind prior followed after… in that second of silence, his choice, his one selfless decision was then rendered null.

"Hello! Hello!" 

Hayley's cheery voice chimed through the speaker, and at once, at the sound of her voice, in stifled choking silence, Harry's tears began to flow again. That pained expression, the heavy tremble of his lips, he was trying to smile, trying as hard as he could… he couldn't… and just before he could muster any words, Hayley chimed in again, speaking over him.

"Unfortunately I seem to be very busy at the moment! But hey, Don't let that detail stop you! Anything important you want to say, just leave it after the beep!"

And beep it did, for a long few seconds, Harry held the phone in silence, staring, still with tears in his eyes.

"Voicemail…" I muttered under my breath.

That's right, I forgot. She's covering my shift right now. Of course she wasn't answering.

Despite that, Harry didn't seem to mind it one bit. In fact, he looked content, more than content. That was all it took to satisfy him. 

But I know he needed more.

"Just tell her what you want her to know," I quietly instructed him. "If she still wants to hear you, she'll call back."

I wasn't sure if Harry could even hear me anymore, he made no movement, and his stare was a distant, vacant stillness.

Yet my phone continued to remain steady in his hands. His forefinger gave a twitch, lightly grazing, caressing his ring finger.

"Hay… ley…?" He whispered, voice subdued in fatigue, in overwhelming emotions. "It's… your father…"

A harsh gasp, and he couldn't say anymore, but he was trying, and he was trying as hard as he could, then with tears falling, voice choking, somehow… he could.

"I… love you…"

My phone fell off to the side with a quiet thump, and Harry's arms sagged, fingers hitting lifeless against the dirt.

In his face, lingered the imprints of his last emotion. The damp streaks drying across his cheeks, and a ghost of a smile planted on his lips.

He was gone now, and he'll probably stay that way until I manage to do what has to be done - that barrier has to fall. Before that though…

I picked my phone back up, and without a single glance, I glided my thumb to end the call, and in the quiet, I waited.

Walking to my hay bale, sitting back down, for him, I waited for her answer.

For him… I'll find out for him.

Five minute passed, and still not a sound could be heard.

Ten minutes, and thinking without really thinking, I hit the call button, just… hoping.

Hayley blared in on the silence again, speaking in that same cheery, boisterous tone of hers… leave your message after the beep, she said.

I hung up, and I kept waiting.

Fifteen minutes, twenty… holding out for her real voice, her real thoughts…

Thirty minutes now, and I think, maybe, I just think… perhaps Harry was right.Sitting here, I've been hearing her true thoughts all along.

The deafening quiet all around me, that was her answer.