losthunter | From the art studio to the hospital

Tonight was an important night for Hunter and the Seven Sisters art studio. A new artist was exhibiting their artwork, and there was finally media attention about the studio itself. The art gala had a number of art critics attending. And many people were learning about the Foundation, and the work that the organization did in the community.

Hunter was preparing some notes, to speak to a small scrum with the media. He had not done something like this for a few year. Not since he was dealing with the media and his father's business.

He felt very nervous. Without warning, his phone buzzed an alert. Hunter spared a quick glance at his phone, noticed that the caller ID was from the hospital, and took a few moments to answer it.

"Mr. Kingson?" The almost-too-pleasant voice spoke to him on the other end. Already Hunter had a dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach. Almost no one addressed him by his former last name.

"Speaking..." He toned his voice to neutral.

"I am sorry to bother you. But you are listed on the emergency call list for your father, Robert Kingson." Hunter felt weak to his stomach. "He is in emergency room."

"What happened?" He whispered. The still-too-bright answer explaining that his father had a heart attack was barely heard by Hunter. The room around him felt claustrophobic. He tuned back in when the nurse asked him if he could come down to the hospital, and speak to the doctor.

"I... yah... I will be there." Hunter hung up the phone. Downstairs, the party of the art gala seemed to taunt him. He couldn't face the media scrum now. He couldn't face anyone right now.

Hunter told one of his Foundation board members to take over the art gala for him, as his Uber cab pulled up to take him to the hospital. In the back seat of the cab, He closed his eyes, making a desperate wish that everything would be okay. A feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that it would not be.

He pulled out his PINpoint and send a message to Jim. I am on my way to the hospital. My dad had a heart attack,

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Hunter honestly doesn't know how to react in this situation. He leans closer to Jim, glad that he offered some assistance.

"I..." His voice breaks. "I still am mad at him. I don't want to be... but what he put me through really sucked."

Well, that's familiar. 'Never speak ill of the dead' is a long-standing human trope for a reason, and Jim is thoroughly familiar with the tendency to avoid criticizing the dead or dying, not that he agrees with it. "You're not wrong to be mad. This doesn't undo anything he did to you, or to anyone else."

"He never really apologized. And he never will." Hunter takes a breath. He has to find a way to accept that. But it is hard.

"I am still mad... but I do not want him to die."

How stupidly unfair is it that Hunter's dad is still hurting him, even now? With something that wasn't even his doing this time. Something that no one can do anything about.

"I know. I'm sorry." There's nothing Jim can do but be here for Hunter, to let him know that he's not alone, and that what he's feeling is valid.

There is a knock at the door. The doctor steps into the room. His face serious.

"I am sorry to interrupt, Mister Kingson. But we do need you to sign these papers, to allow us to start end-of-life care."

Hunter takes a sharp breath. Staring at the file in the doctor's hand.

He knows that there is no way his father could survive this. But somehow... he never imagined having to give her permission for him to die.

"Give me a moment..." He sinks down in a chair.

The doctor leaves the files, and a mourning pamphlet for Hunter, detailing the services that he could access.

It's easy to see that Hunter is taking this pretty hard, his attention on the looming shadow of loss. Jim sits close enough to hold the other man's hand in his own, and leafs through the papers to make sure there's nothing shady that Hunter might not notice in his grief.

The hardest part, he knows, is the disbelief. Even seeing it with your own eyes, the news is sudden enough, shocking enough, that it must feel like a nightmare that won't end. Jim had felt the same, when the attack on Headquarters had ended and he had seen Spock kneeling over the body of Admiral Pike. Impossible to believe that it was the same man who had been healthy and breathing mere minutes before, and yet, there he was, lifeless and staring into nothing. And sure, Pike wasn't his father, but he was the closest thing that Jim ever had. So he has at least some idea of how Hunter must feel right now.

There had been no words then, nothing that would have done anything to change what had happened. So he doesn't offer any, just sitting with Hunter, hand in hand.

Hunter is only a little aware of the fact that Jim is checking the legal papers, to make sure that there is nothing that would be considered problematic. And the papers are the typical hospital forms, that ensure that the doctors are not over-stepping any wishes of the family, or the patient.

He fights back a feeling of nausea. And gently takes the forms from Jim, once the other man had given it a first look. That nausea gets stronger as he signs with his deadname, Kyle Kingson. The only name the hospital would respect right now.

Hunter moves his chair forward slightly, so he can take his dad's hand. And he rests his head on the bed. He can not hold in his turmoil anymore. And sobs softly.

Jim isn't sure what to do, well aware that there's nothing he can do or say that'll take this pain away from Hunter. All he can do is sit with him, one hand gently rubbing the other man's back in soothing circles, the only comfort he knows how to give right now.

He doesn't really know if Robert and Hunter would've ever reconciled. From what little he's seen and heard about their relationship, Robert was never the most open-minded kinda guy. And Hunter can't really miss something he didn't have. But mourning the possibility... yeah, maybe that can be worse sometimes.

After a few moments of just letting himself cry, Hunter is able to pull himself together a little. He knows there is nothing more he can do for his father.

He is not even sure when the doctor comes back in to take the paperwork. Or the moment that they are ushered out of the room, so the doctors can take those next steps.

It is like he blinked and woke up again to be standing outside the hospital, a bag of his father's belongings under his arm, and his hand holding Jim's.

"I want to go home." Hunter sighs softly.

"I'll take you there." Jim leads Hunter back towards the alley where he first portaled over, using it as cover to return to his boyfriend's apartment. The shocked, distant look on Hunter's face is concerning, though not surprising, given the circumstances. Jim doesn't remember much of what he himself did between Pike's death and being called to investigate his murderer's escape, but he does remember feeling an almost numbing, crushing weight in his chest, an impossible stretching of time that made it seem to go on forever, as he sat in silence, alone. Just being here, seeing to Hunter's needs, that's the sort of help he can give.

He makes sure Hunter is settled on one of the couches before moving to the kitchen to make some tea, something warm to help combat the shock.

Hunter is very glad to have Jim here, and helping him to get settled. He knows he will have to take time to make sense of what happened. Of the loss.

But the most important thing... is he is not alone.

[Good place to end]

From the art studio to the hospital

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