Intrepreting, Improving

     HE COULDN’T FORCE WORDS PAST HIS LIPS.  they all felt  trapped  in the back of his throat.  no plea or sentiment seemed appropriate.  markus forced his eyes shut,  willing away still threatening tears.  if carl didn’t want tears,  he would try and abide.    ‘  i know  —  i know it’s not.  it’s just  —  ’    too soon.  they might have a day left,  at best,  and every second he saw count down brought them closer to and end markus dreaded. 

     slowly,  markus managed a nod.    ‘  yeah…  okay.  i’ll call them.  ’    he leaned back in his seat,  though he didn’t release his hold on carl’s hand.  the connection established in only a second,  and he heard leo’s voice on the other line a moment later.  markus hesitated.  things between them still felt  uncomfortable,  but he dealt with worse these days.    ‘  hi,  leo?  it’s markus.  sorry,  i don’t mean to bother you,  but—  it’s carl.  he,  uh…  he’d like to see you.  if you can come by as soon as possible.  ’

     the call concluded,  markus repeated the same with kamski.  then,  finally,  his focus returned fully to carl.  he managed a tiny smile,  hand squeezing gently at carl’s again.    ‘  they’re both on their way.  leo said he isn’t far.  kamski…  might take a little longer.  but he said he’ll make it.  ’

“Good,” Carl breathed out. Whatever the old man was planning, it was likely to be difficult to pull off. Not in the sense of getting what he wanted done. After all, money was no object to a man as rich as Carl. However, it was obvious that it’d be difficult to get the old man out of the house. 

Making sure he could sit up in his wheelchair, keeping his oxygen tank with them at all times... it’d be a hassle, but Carl wanted anything but staying in his bed for the last hours of his life. Even if he passed before they made it to their destination, it would still be far better than anything he was experiencing now. 

Blinking slowly, exhausted blue eyes began to wander about the room, figuring whether what he wanted to do next. 

❝Pajama day it is.❞ North declared, getting to her feet and retrieving Carl’s wheelchair. She rolled it to the side of his bed, assisting him into the seat. ❝And breakfast should be ready downstairs too.❞

She rolled Carl away from his room, snickering a little.  ❝Markus is far too busy changing the world, we’ll try not to bother him. He needs a pajama day, actually. Maybe he should listen to us instead.❞  She took the stairs leisurely as his machine lowered him down in his chair. North was eternally grateful for the man. He was the first human she came to appreciate, and maybe it was bias because of Markus, but the time spent with him alone would have led her to the same conclusion even if she’d never met Markus. He was a good soul, through and through. He spoke of his demise often, something she tried to not think of.

❝I put in a good word for extra bacon, by the way.❞

“Oh, but he never will,” Carl shook his head listlessly, rolling his eyes as though he was actually annoyed by Markus’s hardheadedness. That was hardly the case, but the older did like his dramatics at times, and did like poking fun at his sons. 

Getting settled back down on the the ground of the main floor of his home, Carl kept his eyes ahead as he was wheeled out toward the parlor.

“Did you? I appreciate it, thank you, North,” More fatty foods to prove to himself that part of life was still worth living. Especially when North was the one making sure the old man ate, rather than Markus being one hell of a buzzkill. At least he wasn’t that way all of the time, else Carl knew he wouldn’t have been able to stand him. 

　　　“Whiskey also isn’t advised to be ingested so soon after medicating.” Markus frowns down at him. “So I, as your designated caretaker, cannot agree to those terms.”

　　　He mirrors Carl’s annoyed expression. There’s a careful art to negotiation with his father figure. “How about you take the medication now and I turn a blind eye for one glass in the morning.”

　　　“And you certainly will. But we both know you need to take your medicine before that.”

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“Now-- don’t start that...” Carl’s was voice almost weaker than his body was. It sounded like every word he spoke was just taking more and more energy from him, and yet he continued. Persisted to continue to speak to one of his dear sons.

“It’s... not happening now, Markus,” He wouldn’t let it. Over his damned dead body he’d let it happen now. “I want it to be grand, to at least be more th-...than me just rotting... away in this bed,” Even for a homebody like him, he felt like that was a pathetic death. 

Taking a hefty breath in, he gently squeezed Markus’s hand before focusing his blue eyes on him again.