13. Family in Every Sense of the Word

13

Family in Every Sense of the Word

Roman

T he portal took them into the grand foyer of Adrian's manor, Roman felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. His father was a dead weight in his arms, his breathing shallow and his skin cold and clammy to the touch.

"Benjamin!" he called out, his voice raw and hoarse with exhaustion and emotion. "Benjamin, we need help! It's my father, he's hurt, he's…"

Without missing a beat, Benjamin was there. "Roman," Benjamin breathed, his eyes wide with shock and concern as he took in the sight of Roman's father, broken and bleeding in his son's arms. "What happened? Who did this?"

Roman opened his mouth to respond, to pour out the whole sordid tale of Wanda's cruelty and Riordan's machinations. But before he could utter a word, Merin stepped forward, his hand finding Roman's and squeezing it with a strength and a warmth that made his heart skip a beat in his chest.

"It was Wanda," Merin said, his voice low and fierce with a rage and a grief that Roman knew all too well. "She had Roman's father in her clutches, was torturing him for information. We got there as fast as we could, but…"

"We need to get him to a guest room, now. Every second counts, and I don't want to waste any more time standing around and chatting." Benjamin said hastily.

Roman nodded, his jaw clenching with a fierce, unyielding resolve. "Lead the way, Benjamin. I'll carry him, you just tell me where to go."

They raced through the winding halls of the manor, their footsteps echoing like gunshots in the eerie, oppressive silence. Roman could feel his father's heartbeat, weak and thready beneath his fingertips, and with every passing moment, he felt a little piece of his own soul wither and die with the fear that he might be too late, that he might have failed the one person who had never once failed him.

But he pushed that fear down, locked it away in a dark, hidden corner of his mind where it couldn't touch him, couldn't distract him from the task at hand. He had to be strong now, had to be the rock that his father needed him to be.

When they finally reached the guest room, when he laid his father down on the soft, downy bed with a gentleness that belied the urgency thrumming through his veins…

He felt like he could breathe again. Like the weight of the world had lifted, just a little, from his shoulders.

But even as he stood there, even as he watched Benjamin fuss and fret over his father's prone form. He knew that the battle was far from over. Knew that the real fight, the one that would decide the fate of the man he loved more than life itself…

It was just beginning.

Merin's hand found his once more, his fingers twining with Roman's in a gesture of comfort and support. "We'll give you some privacy," he said softly, his eyes shining with a fierce, unshakable love. "But we'll be right outside if you need us, okay? You're not alone in this, Roman. You never will be."

Roman swallowed hard, his throat tight with a lump of tears and gratitude and sheer, unbridled devotion. "I know," he whispered, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. "I know, Mer. And I… I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me."

Merin just smiled, his face soft and tender as he leaned in to press a gentle, lingering kiss to Roman's cheek.

And with that, he was gone. Slipping out of the room with a final, reassuring squeeze of Roman's hands.

For a long moment, Roman just stood there. Staring down at the man who had been his rock. He looked so small, so fragile, lying there on the bed. His skin was pale and lined with pain, his chest rising and falling with each shallow, labored breath.

Roman felt like his heart was breaking. Like his very soul was shattering into a million pieces, each one sharp and jagged and tearing at his insides with a pain that he couldn't even begin to put into words.

But he couldn't afford to fall apart now. Couldn't let himself get lost in the grief and the fear and the sheer, unbridled terror of losing the one person who had always been there, always believed in him, even when he couldn't believe in himself.

And so he did the only thing he could do. The only thing that made sense in a world that had stopped making sense the moment he had found his father, broken and bleeding in Wanda's clutches.

He took his father's hand. Held it tight, like a lifeline, like a promise. And he sat there, in the soft, golden light of the guest room, waiting for a miracle. Waiting for a sign, a fucking glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.

He didn't have to wait long. A knock on the door, soft but insistent, jolted him out of his thoughts. Out of the spiral of fear and doubt and sheer, unbridled desperation that had been threatening to pull him under.

"Come in," he called out, his voice hoarse and rough with exhaustion and emotion.

The door swung open, and Steve stepped into the room. The celestial, who's also Benjamin's father.

"Roman," Steve said softly, his eyes warm and filled with a quiet, unwavering concern. "How's he doing, son?"

Roman swallowed hard. "Not good," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's hanging on, but barely. I don't know how much longer he can hold out, Steve. I don't know if…"

He trailed off, his voice breaking on a sob that tore at his throat and made his chest ache with the weight of his grief and his terror.

But Steve just nodded, his face set in a grim, determined line. "I know, Roman. I know. But we're not going to let him go without a fight, you hear me? We're going to do everything in our power to bring him back."

He stepped forward, his hand finding Roman's shoulder and squeezing it with a strength and a warmth that made him like he could take on the world, could face down any darkness and come out the other side unscathed.

"May I take a look at him?" Steve asked softly, his eyes finding Roman's with a look of such compassion, and understanding.

Roman nodded, his jaw clenching with a fierce, unyielding resolve. "Please," he said, his voice raw and hoarse with emotion. "Please, Steve. I don't… I don't know what else to do. I can't lose him, I can't…"

Steve just smiled, a soft, sad thing that made Roman's heart ache with the depth of his own grief and fear. "You won't, Roman. I promise you that. We'll find a way to bring him back, to mend what's been broken and heal what's been hurt."

Roman watched as Steve leaned down and took his father's hand in his own. The celestial's brow furrowed, his eyes closing in concentration as he felt for the pulse that Roman knew was weak, thready, barely there at all.

"His pulse," Steve murmured, his voice low and grave. "It's not good, Roman. He's hanging on by a thread, and even that is starting to fray."

Roman swallowed hard, his throat tight with a lump of tears and fear and sheer, unbridled desperation. "Can you help him?" he asked, his voice raw and hoarse with emotion. "Can you heal him, bring him back from the brink?"

Steve was quiet for a moment, his eyes distant and thoughtful as he considered the question. "I should be able to," he said finally, his voice soft but filled with a quiet, unwavering conviction. "But it will take time, Roman. And magic, more magic than I've ever used before."

Roman nodded, his jaw clenching with a fierce, unyielding resolve. "Do it," he said, his voice low and intense. "Do whatever it takes, Steve. Please."

Steve's eyes softened, his hand finding Roman's shoulder and squeezing it with a strength and a warmth that made him feel like he could take on the world.

"I promise you, I will do everything in my power to bring him back to you. To mend what's been broken and heal what's been hurt." He paused, his expression turning serious and his eyes filling with a quiet, unwavering intensity. "But I need you to do something for me, Roman. I need you to step back, to give me some space to work. This kind of magic, the kind that can bring a man back from the brink of death will take a lot from me and I need the space."

Roman nodded. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving his father's face as he watched Steve take a deep, steadying breath and place his hand on the man's forehead.

For a moment, nothing happened. The room was silent, save for the soft, steady beep of the monitors and the ragged, labored breathing of Roman's father.

But then, without warning, Steve began to glow. A soft, golden light, warm and pure and filled with a power that made Roman's very bones vibrate with awe and wonder.

It started at his fingertips, a faint, shimmering aura that grew and pulsed and expanded with every passing second. And as Roman watched, his eyes wide and his heart pounding in his chest when he saw them. Saw the wings, massive and magnificent, unfurling from Steve's back like a pair of gleaming, ethereal sails.

They were beautiful. Breathtaking. A sight that Roman knew he would never, ever forget, no matter how long he lived or how far he roamed.

He felt the power, the raw, unbridled magic that filled the room like a physical presence, like a living, breathing thing that had a will and a purpose all its own.

It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Unlike anything he had ever even dreamed of, in all his long years of wandering and searching and longing for a place to call his own.

It was calming. Soothing. A balm to his battered soul, a promise of hope and healing and the kind of love that could weather any storm, overcome any obstacle.

And as he watched, as he felt the warmth and the light and the sheer, unbridled power of Steve's magic washing over him like a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated life.

He knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that everything was going to be okay. He was going to make it. Was going to come back to him, stronger and braver and more alive than ever before.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun… it was over. The glow faded, the wings vanished, and Steve was left standing there, his face lined with exhaustion but his eyes bright with triumph and relief.

"It's done," he said, his voice hoarse and rough with emotion. "Your father, Roman… he's going to be okay. The dark magic, the damage that it wrought… it's gone, purged from his system like a poison drawn from a wound."

Roman felt his knees buckle, his vision blurring with sudden, hot tears. He stumbled forward, his arms reaching out to pull Steve into a fierce, desperate hug.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice muffled against the celestial's shoulder. "Thank you, Steve. I can't even begin to tell you how much this means to me, how much you've done for me and my family."

Steve just held him, his arms strong and steady around Roman's shaking form. "You don't have to thank me, Roman. You're family, and that's what family does. We fight for each other, we stand by each other, no matter what. But right now, Roman… right now, your father needs rest. And so do you."

Roman opened his mouth to protest, to insist that he was fine, that he couldn't leave his father's side, not even for a moment.

But Steve just shook his head, his expression kind but firm. "No arguments, Roman. You're no good to anyone if you're running on fumes, if you're so exhausted that you can barely see straight."

Roman wanted to protest, to insist that he was fine, that he could handle it. But deep down, he knew that Steve was right. He was running on empty, his body and mind pushed to the brink of exhaustion by the events of the past few days.

And so, with a heavy sigh and, he allowed Steve to lead him out of the kitchen and into the back garden, where the rest of his family was waiting for him.

The sun was just beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink and gold. And as Roman stepped out into the warm, fragrant air, he felt like he could finally breathe again. Like the weight of the world had lifted, just a little, from his shoulders.

Merin was looking up at Roman with eyes that shone with concern, his hand outstretched in a silent invitation. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, his hand finding Merin's and twining their fingers together in a gesture of comfort and support.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I just… I couldn't leave him, not until I knew he was going to be okay."

Merin just smiled, his face soft and understanding as he tugged Roman down into the chair beside him. "You don't have to apologize. I know how much your father means to you." He paused, his eyes searching Roman's face with a look of quiet, unwavering concern. "How is he? Did Steve's magic work, did it heal him?"

Roman nodded, his throat tight with a lump of tears and relief. "Yeah. Yeah, it worked. My dad, he's going to be okay. The dark magic, the damage that Wanda wrought it's gone, purged from his system like a poison drawn from a wound."

Benjamin shuddered, his face going pale at the thought of the shadow witch and her twisted, malevolent master. "I still don't know how it is possible. I thought Queen Elara had sent Wanda and the others to the Void prison, had locked them away where they could never hurt anyone again."

Roman shook his head, his eyes distant and troubled as he remembered the battle in the cave, the look of hatred and malice that had burned in Wanda's eyes as she faced off against Merin.

"I don't know, Benjamin. I thought the same thing. But somehow, she must have found a way to escape, to break free of her bonds and return to Riordan's side."

Benjamin nodded, his expression grim and his eyes filled with a quiet, unwavering determination. "We need to warn Peter," he said, his voice tight with worry. "If Wanda is still out there, if she's still doing Riordan's bidding… he could be her next target, her next victim in this twisted game of cat and mouse."

Adrian's eyes widened, his face going pale at the thought of his friend and ally in danger. "And if Wanda is still alive, if she's still working with Riordan what about the others? Malachite and Lina?"

"I don't know, Adrian. I hope to the gods that they're still locked away, that they're rotting in the Void where they belong. But if Wanda could find a way to escape, to break free of her bonds."

Adrian spoke again, his voice soft and filled with a quiet, unwavering kindness. "Roman, I know this is a lot to take in, a lot to process after everything you've been through. But I want you to know that you're not alone in this, that you have a family and a pack who will stand by your side no matter what." He paused, his eyes finding Roman's with a look of quiet, unwavering conviction. "Your father and Rio, they're welcome to stay here in Willowbrook for as long as they need. James and his company just finished building a new set of houses on the edge of town, and I would be honored to offer one of them to your family, to give you a place to call your own as you heal and rebuild."

"Thank you," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

Adrian just smiled, his eyes warm and filled with a quiet, unwavering affection. "You don't have to thank me, Roman. You're family, and that's what family does. We take care of each other, we stand by each other, no matter what."