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Wolf is surprised that he even made it to the hospital in one piece.
The whole ride over felt like a constant battle to push his tears down until his chest ached.
His father?
His own father had been alive this whole time?
And his mother never once decided to let her own child into this three decade long scheme.
For thirty years he’d been getting eaten up by the guilt and the grief of that awful day, only for it all to be in vain.
Because guess what?
Surprise! Your dad’s alive and decided now was the best time to come crawling back into your life.
What a joke.
He doesn’t even remember if he turned off his bike.
His helmet feels heavy in his hands as he makes the familiar trek down to his office.
There’s an almost ringing—not quite loud enough to be recognizable, but noticeable enough to cause him to nearly topple down an ultrasound machine and a tech—in his ears.
He walks faster, almost running to his office.
The lights are still on, dimmed to the lowest setting. Just how he left them over an hour ago when he’d headed home.
A break. It was supposed to be a small break in the middle of his work day. A couple of hours to himself.
He wishes he never left the hospital.
He wishes—
Boxes.
He needs boxes.
He needs to pack this all up and leave as soon as possible. Before anyone even notices he’s gone.
How will his mother like it if he just up and left without saying a word?
He had kept the boxes from when he’d first moved into his office, whether it was as a contingency plan or if he needed to move things around, he doesn’t know.
Lucky for him, they’re perfect for angrily shoving various things into.
He’s barely through the first pile of patient files before Josh comes in, carefully placing scans onto the light box.
“The pastor’s scans.” He gestures to them and then hooks his chin onto his fist. “Printed it just the way you like them.”
Wolf doesn’t look up from the box. He’s stopped packing, but he can’t find it in himself to move.
His fingers brush against the half-broken piece of agate. Its jagged pieces jut out angrily at him. As if he was the one who broke it.
What is he doing?
“Wolf?” Josh is calling for him.
But he can’t move.
Can’t speak.
Can’t think.
All that’s running through his mind is the lies, and the years built upon those lies, and that stupid fucking camping trip that started this whole thing.
He doesn’t even like camping that much. Why in the world did he even agree to it in the first place?
To spend more time with his dad?
He wants to cry. He wants to scream, just do something to make the hurt stop.
But he’s stuck, standing at his desk, his hands shaking, hovering over a box that was supposed to fix everything.
The room is too hot.
Did he turn the thermostat up? He doesn’t even touch it, did one of his interns—
His shirt collar is too tight. The top button constricting his neck like a snake in those nature documentaries—
Did leave his TV on?
He barely uses it, but Josh had slowly migrated some of his DVD collection over and made Wolf sit down to watch through The Hobbit and Lord of The Rings movies.
A marathon that took almost an entire weekend to get through.
And it’s not like Wolf was completely clueless, he’d read the books, he just never got around to actually watching the movies. And he actually enjoyed them.
It’s different, watching with someone—
His dad is still at his house. And his mother, and probably even Carol too.
There’s a hand placed atop of his, and then another at his shoulder, slowly guiding him down into a chair.
“Hey,” Josh says. His voice is calm, steady. The complete opposite as to what Wolf is feeling right now. “Just breathe, you’re okay.”
He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath, the fire in his chest becoming too painful to ignore.
“I’m right here,” Josh adds, when he finally lets out a shaggy breath.
“I-“ His eyes are burning, and his mouth is dry, and everything is just wrong.
How does he even articulate this to Josh? He can’t even make sense of it himself.
“Oh, remember when I told you my dad died when I was fourteen in a particularly vulnerable moment of mine? Yes? Well, turns out that wasn’t true at all!”
He can hear the quiet upticks of a heart monitor, keyboards clacking away, murmuring voices outside. They’re out there, just living their lives. As if nothing is wrong in the world.
And he’s in here, in his office. Where logically, it’s safe, it’s familiar. It’s supposed to be a place where he can hide away and feel comfortable in a place where things can just pile up sometimes.
But it’s not.
And his own home, no longer a memorial or a testament to how his father should have been treated; It’s a living grave. It’s tainted, with the man who had lied to him for almost his entire life.
When Josh starts to move away, Wolf quickly grasps his wrist, keeping him in place. “Don’t leave me, please.”
He doesn’t think he could handle someone else leaving him.
Josh especially. He doesn’t know what he’d do.
“I’m not.” And when Wolf finally looks up at him, tears brimming in his eyes, he clarifies, “I promise, I’m not leaving. I’m just going to close your door. I’ll be right back.” He squeezes Wolf’s hand, assuring him.
Wolf nods, and slowly lets go of his hand.
Despite Josh’s reassurance, it doesn’t negate the fact that lingers in the back of his brain.
Everyone’s left him. Even if his father came back, he still left for over thirty years.
Because he couldn’t handle him, he couldn’t handle being a father.
He couldn’t handle being his father.
Wolf is vaguely aware of the telltale click of his office door closing, always louder than the other doors on his floor, he should probably get someone to fix it—
What is he even on about?
His father’s back from the dead and all he can think about are meaningless doors and televisions?
Josh resumes his spot in front of Wolf, except this time he’s pulled a chair from around the desk, saving his knees from spending time crouched down on the floor.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks. “You don’t have to, but you’re really worrying me here.” He reaches out a hand again, but Wolf doesn’t take it.
It’s like his brain is running a marathon, except it doesn’t end and it seems to be running faster and faster the more he tries to make sense of—
“Do you know what lies do to the brain over time?”
He’s angry, and tired, and upset, and now he’s taking it out on Josh instead of just outright telling him what’s wrong.
He’s a shit boyfriend, a shit partner, Josh should just cut him loose before—
“What does that-“ Josh pauses, scrunching his brows and nose in a way that if Wolf wasn’t so emotionally wrecked he would have thought it as cute. “Is this because of what I said this morning? I wasn’t lying to you if that’s—“
Wolf, frustratingly, throws a hand up and runs it through his hair. “Not everything is about you!”
The silence that follows his outburst is painful.
Shit. That’s not how he wanted this to go. It just came out before he could even realize what he was saying.
Josh sits up straighter. He then sighs, and looks down at his lap. “Look, you’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” He looks Wolf in the eyes. “If it’s not that, then what is it? Because clearly you’re going through something and it's kind of freaking me out here and I don’t know what to do to help.”
Wolf takes a deep breath in and— “My dad didn’t die.”
Josh’s eyes widen a fraction more.
“Oh, and to make it worse, it turns out he was that guy who found Stewart the dog. And then he just showed up at my house and then my mom was there and Carol—“ His face is all wet, it’s honestly a gross feeling but it’s the first time he’s cried since this whole thing started.
And it’s probably the first time he’s actually cried in front of Josh.
“I just found out the last thirty years of my life were all a lie and everyone just expected me to go along with it,” He adds, scrubbing his face with his hands.
He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it, it’s like his life is a movie. Where at the big climax point it all just turns to shit and the main character has to fix it all.
But he doesn’t want to have to be the one to fix it. For once can’t someone else just take the reins for a bit and let him have a moment to breathe?
Wolf can hear a small, sharp intake of breath as Josh tries to figure out what to do. He can’t blame him, there isn’t much that can be done except to live with it.
“Is it okay if I touch you?”
Josh doesn’t usually ask, but he must have noticed how he’d avoided taking his hand earlier.
“Yeah,” Wolf says, nodding. A wet laugh escapes from him. “I think I could really use a hug right now.”
Josh gets up from his chair and leans in close. He takes a step forward and wraps his arms around Wolf, cradling his head into his chest. He doesn’t say anything, just breathes.
“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know why, but the moment Josh squeezes him tight, it breaks something in him. He can’t stop the release of tears and subsequent snot from pouring out of him. It's gross, and he’s falling apart in front of his boyfriend. Something he didn’t really expect to happen until much further along into their relationship.
“Hey.” Josh’s hands are on his face, wiping away the tears. “Don’t apologize, you’re okay.”
Josh’s thumbs are sweeping under his eyes and all Wolf can think about is the wet spot currently seeping through Josh’s shirt. “Your shirt,” he begins.
“Is just a shirt,” Josh finishes. “I’ve got plenty more.” He places a firm kiss on Wolf's forehead. “I’ve only got one of you.”
And for a moment the world is quiet. No heart monitors, no endless clacking of heels or shoes down the halls.
It’s just them.
Quiet, still.
And maybe Wolf will be okay.