Work Text:
Oz is sitting on his couch aimlessly watching a re-run of Modern Family, when his phone starts to ring. It’s been an ordinary day at work and some part of him wishes that it’s a work call, even though it’s late into the evening.
Pushing back the blanket that’s settled around his legs, he grabs the remote and mutes the TV before fetching his phone from his back pocket. One glance tells him it’s his mother who is calling. He smiles slightly. They haven’t talked in a few days and truth to be told he missed listening to her rambles. After accepting the call, he raises his phone to his ear.
“Hey Anne,” he says cheerfully. Instead of her voice he is greeted with silence. He imagines he hears her breathing, sounding heavy and shallow. A second passes by, before he hears a whispered “Lev” on the other side of the line.
An unsettling feeling spreads through his chest, his heartbeat picking up. He sits up straighter, the blanket slipping completely from his legs.
“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks worriedly. Something heavy settles somewhere close to his heart. Usually, he is an optimist, never jumping to the worst conclusions. But right now, he has a very uneasy feeling in his gut.
“Lev,” she says again, “it’s your Baba. He- he had a stroke. He is on his way to the hospital, but- it doesn’t look good.” Her voice breaks and it almost sounds like she is swallowing a sob.
Time stills. Not a single muscle in his body moves.
What?
The words register, but their meaning doesn’t reach him. There is a ringing in his ears, over which he can’t even hear his own thoughts. Objectively, he knows it’s bad. But he can’t quite grasp the feeling. His body reacts, but his mind can’t register it. He just feels numb.
There is nothing in this world that could have prepared him to hear these words. These words which carry so much meaning, seem to change his life in an instant.
“What?” Oz finally croaks out, his voice trembling and hoarse.
“The paramedics said- they said,” a muffled sob, “they said that he might not make it.”
The numbness intensifies, spreading through every muscle, every cell in his body. He can’t do anything. He can’t move, he can’t think, he can’t really speak. Not when his Baba might not survive the night.
Fuck.
The reality comes crushing down on him.
His Dad, his Baba could be gone.
Forever.
And he might not speak to him ever again. There is so much he still wants to ask, so much he wants to tell him. Just last week his dad promised to show him how he can repair that dripping in his shower. Who is going to show him, if he- he can’t even think it. He doesn’t want to accept this as his reality. But somehow it is. His reality, that is.
A sob escapes from his lips, fueled by the sharp pain he feels in his chest. He wants to scream. He wants this to be a dream. He wants to wake up. He wants someone to tell him this is not real. Just a bad joke.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening.
“Oh, Lev.” His Anne is crying as well, he can hear it. That breaks him even more.
He pinches the corner of his eyes, trying to keep the tears from flowing and to regain some rationality.
It only works partly. But it helps to make him realize that he can’t stay here, in front of the muted TV, where Modern Family is still playing. They are laughing in the background – Claire, Phil and their kids. The thought that he might never be laughing with both his parents together again suffocates him.
He needs to see his Baba. He needs to be held by his Anne.
“What hospital?” he manages to ask.
“LA General.”
“Okay. Okay.” He nods, like this information has changed anything.
It didn’t.
“Should I pick you up?”
“Kendall is driving me,” his Anne says. Their neighbors daughter. Oz used to play with her as a child. His dad always used to joke they would end up together. But then Kendall came out as lesbian and his parents decided to make her their unofficial daughter-in-law, nonetheless. They even adopted her new girlfriend Emily into the family.
“Okay, I’ll head there directly then.”
“Are you sure you fit to drive?” He looks at his trembling hands, notices how wobbly his legs feel – even though he is still sitting on the couch – and decides that his body doesn’t have a say in this. He has to go to the hospital. Whatever it takes.
“Yeah, sure,” he lies.
“Then please drive safely.” The I don’t want you in the hospital as well goes unsaid. He hears it anyway.
“I will.”
The call ends. Oz gets up, grabs a jacket, his wallet and keys. He doesn’t really register the motions. Instead, his body moves on autopilot, until he has everything he needs. The world feels still. After he gathered everything, he closes his door behind him and makes his way to the elevator, pressing the P to get to the parking lot. He usually walks this way multiple times a day and yet, it still feels different tonight. Monumental.
When the elevator pings at the parking deck, he exits it and walks to his car. His legs don’t feel like his own. Somehow though, he makes it inside. For a moment, he just sits there. In the silence, completely alone, afraid of what will happen once he starts the car and gets to the hospital.
The moment that follows is short, but long-lasting. In a split second, the repressed emotions start to crawl up from under his skin, settling into his heart. It’s too much. It’s too much to handle, but too much to repress. The idea of his father dying just hurts so much.
And finally, finally he screams.
And screams.
And screams until his throat is sore and his body exhausted.
Oz lets his head fall back against the head piece of his seat. Shutting his eyes, he takes a deep, trembling breath. With a sigh, the realization settles in. He can’t drive like this. But how is he supposed to get there? He needs to be there. He needs to see his baba.
Before he can really think about it, he has already called Daphne’s number. He doesn’t know why it’s her. It just makes sense. Out of all the people he knows, he trusts her the most. She is also probably the only person who would pick up the phone this late. A work-related necessity. He could have probably called Karadec too, but somehow that feels wrong.
Her voice is sleepy, when she picks up the phone. “Oz, hey,” she says, suppressing a yawn. “Everything alright?”
He presses his lips together, the tears returning all at once.
“No- my dad- stroke- I don’t know- I-“ he rambles, every word interrupted by a sob. It’s like a dam has broken, his mind refusing to function.
“Where are you?” Daphne asks immediately. “I’ll come get you.” No questions asked. That’s why she is his favorite colleague. Probably his favorite friend.
He hears rustling from her crawling out of bed. Footsteps echo through her apartment and through the audio of the phone.
“Parking lot,” he manages to say. “My building.”
“Okay. Let me change really quick and then I’ll get there as soon as I can. I’ll drive you to him. You are not driving like this, okay?” There is faint noise of dangling keys.
“Okay.”
He hadn’t planned to do it anyway. At least not anymore. There is certain kind of relief in the fact that Daphne offered to drive him. It’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about now.
“Can you get outside? I think it’s faster if you just jump in the car.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” He nods to himself.
“Good. I'll see you then.”
“See you.” There is a beat of silence where he is sure she is going to hang up. She doesn’t.
“And Oz?” He hums in response. “I am so sorry.” Her voice is earnest and so incredibly gentle. It feels like a hug. He feels like crying.
Has he ever hugged Daphne? There is no memory of it in his head, but his memories are all hazed anyway. He thinks he would remember.
“Thanks.”
That ends the call. Oz takes a minute in the car before getting out again. Slowly, he makes his way out of the building and onto the buzzing sideway. It is already dark outside. A few people bump into him, a few hushed sorry’s. The street is also busy with cars rushing through the city, even this late into the evening. Oz feels like he is in one of the movie scenes where the whole world starts to move at a rapid speed and he himself is stuck in slow-motion.
His gaze is fixed on the street, adamant to not miss the moment Daphne’s car emerges.
It turns out he doesn’t have to look out. He hears it, before he sees it. Police sirens are blaring through the otherwise low humming of the street.
Her personal car has a siren attached to the roof of it. It stops a few meters before him. Daphne looks around, trying to figure out where he stands. He hurries over to the car and opens the passenger door, her eyes snapping over to him.
“Hey,” she breathes, her gaze softening at the sight of him. He crawls inside, shutting the door behind him. It feels good to see her. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like he is alone anymore, drowning in a pool of emotions.
Daphne reaches out, a hand on his wrist. Her skin is warm, her touch soothing.
“Where to?” she asks softly.
“LA General.” Her foot is on the gas pedal, before he can finish the words.
The silence stretches between them, but Oz doesn’t really mind. He is in no state to talk anyway. His head is crouched against the car window, eyes tracking the fluorescent lights of the city passing by.
It’s weird. The world is still spinning. All these people go on with their life, while his seems to stop. Don’t they feel the shift in the air too?
Daphne’s gaze flicks sideways from time to time, checking in on him.
“You remember, when your parents invited me to dinner that one time I drove you home?” she suddenly asks. Oz looks up. He didn’t expect the question, but he remembers the day clearly. For days afterwards, his parents told him how nice Daphne is and how lucky he is to have her as his co-worker. And the only thing he was able to do was to wholeheartedly agree.
“Yeah, how could I forget? I don’t think I have ever been that embarrassed in my life.” An exhausted laugh escapes him at the thought of the memory.
“Your dad really went all out with the baby pictures,” Daphne chuckles.
A few months back, Daphne drove Oz over to his parent’s house, because his car was still in the shop. Upon arrival, his parents left him with no choice but to invite Daphne over to dinner. Not that he minded. He likes Daphne’s company, probably more than he likes to admit to himself. After dinner, his dad decided to bring out all the photo albums he made when Oz was a kid. Daphne stayed way past midnight, looking at pictures of him in various costumes or completely naked in the pool. Oz always thought that he should be cautious of his mother, but she was only watching with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. Turns out it is his dad who loves to embarrass him most.
The memory hurts. But it feels good at the same time, to not think about the version of his dad in the hospital.
“Remember the one where I was a princess on Halloween?” he asks, looking over at Daphne. She has a faint smile on her lips.
“Course, you looked adorable.”
“On the first picture maybe, but after the mud? Not so much.”
“You never told me how that happened,” she inquired.
“Didn’t dad tell you, when he was showing it to you?” he asked with furrowed brows.
“Maybe. But I wanna hear it from you,” she says, her right hand shortly leaving the wheel, so that she could tap her fingers against his wrist.
“It was raining that Halloween. Mum didn’t want me to go trick or treating. I don’t even really know why anymore. I mean, she was fine with Dad and me playing in the garden. Dad dressed up as a monster, who wanted to capture the princess. He chased me through our entire garden, to stop me from crying about not going trick or treating. Eventually, I fell. Into my mum’s flowers. Everything was so muddy. My dress, my skin, my hair. Mum was furious.”
“And your dad?”
“Just said that we don’t have a washing machine for nothing and kissed her. And that was that.” A watery laugh escapes his lips. Daphne chuckles as well.
“Well, that sounds like a good marriage to me,” she smiles softly.
“Yeah,” he whispers.
Daphne takes a turn to the right, now directly driving up to the hospital. The knot in his chest tightens as he watches the tall building. This is really happening. He dreads what’s about to come. He dreads everything. He would prefer to just turn the car around and pretend like the world is fine for eternity. But he can’t do that.
“Hop off in front of the entrance, yeah? Go see your dad. I will look for a place to park,” Daphne breaks his through his thoughts.
His head snaps over to look at her. “You’re staying?” He had expected her to drop him off and drive home again. He had not expected her to stay.
“I am not leaving you here alone. Also, how else would you get home?”
“I was just going to call an uber or sleep at my mom’s.”
“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “Not a chance. I will wait in the entrance hall, however long it will take.”
“Thanks.” He is too exhausted to argue. The car stops in front of the hospital entrance and he opens the door, to get out. Before he closes it again, he leans down, searching for Daphne’s eyes. “Seriously Daph, thank you.”
She just gives him a small smile. “Always.”
With that, he slams the door shut. Daphne drives off to look for a place to park, while he walks towards the entrance door, his heart sinking lower with every step he takes. He still can’t quite grasp the fact that this is his reality. That one day, these will be his memories that he looks back on. What a nightmare.
He hurries up the steps to the main entrance. Upon entering, he is greeted with high ceilings and glistening hospital white. In here, he feels small. Just another person in a place full of suffering.
He walks up to the information desk, asking after his father. The lady there tells him that his dad is still being examined, but that he can go up into the waiting room.
It doesn’t take long to spot his mother and Kendall, once he enters it. His mother is pacing the length of the room. She does that often, when she doesn’t know what to do with herself. Kendall just watches her, arms crossed in front of her chest. They both look physically exhausted. There are dark circles under Kendall’s eyes, her brown hair thrown up in a messy bun. His mother’s eyes are red, probably from crying as much as he has.
Kendall spots him first, her eyes full of sorrow and a hint of pity. She walks towards him, which earns him the attention of his Anne. She stops in her tracks, before walking up to him as well, her steps significantly faster than Kendall’s.
“Lev,” she says, before pulling him in a bone crushing hug. He only stays strong for a second, before the tears start to spill and he sinks into the embrace. He didn’t realize how much he needed to be held by his mom. The wall around his heart comes crumbling down. His mom’s hand caresses the back of his head in soothing circles. Suddenly he is a kid again, who hurt his knee during soccer practice. Only that his heart hurts now.
“How is he?” he asks, once they both stepped out of the hug. With both hands, he brushes away the tears on his cheeks. The lips of his mom turn into a thin line.
“Not good. They put him into a coma and are currently doing an MRI. We can see him afterwards.” He nods in slow motion, the words barely registering.
“I’m so sorry, my boy,” his mom says, taking his head between her hands and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Me too,” he whispers. A hand settles on his elbow and he looks over to see Kendall with a sad smile on her face.
“I am sorry too,” she says, before slinging her arms around his neck. Oz hugs her back for a short moment, before pulling back again.
“Thanks. I’d say it is good to see you, but-,“ he grimaces.
“The circumstances could be better, I agree.”
“Yeah.”
The wait that follows is excruciating. It feels like ages until a nurse comes up to them and leads them to his dad. His hands are clammy when he enters the room. At first, he only sees a hospital bed, surrounded by a lot of machines. It’s only when he steps closer that he sees his father lying there. His face is pale, his hair coated in sweat against his forehead. He looks a lot older than when Oz saw him last.
His mother lets out a sob at the sight of her husband and Oz pulls her into him on instinct. She hides her head in his chest, soaking his shirt with tears. He doesn’t mind. He is crying as well. His right hand rubs up and down on her back, trying not only comfort her but also himself.
His dad doesn’t look like himself at all. Just a shell, devoid of any soul. Where are his sparkling eyes full of mischief? Where are his horrible puns? Where is the curved smile, whenever he looks at his family?
Where is the person that raised Oz with so much love?
He doesn’t know how to behave, what to say, what to do.
So, he just stays there, looking at the body of his dad. Breathing, but barely there.
Eventually, the doctor comes in and with him the earth-shattering news that the MRI has shown significant damage from the oxygen loss. He advises to prepare for the worst.
Oz’s world crumbles again in an instant. The not-knowing was bad, but this is objectively worse. The knowing and not being able to do anything kills him inside.
He is going to lose his father.
His Anne is going to lose her husband.
Oz is sure he has never felt worse in his life.
They settle on two chairs on either side of the bed, alternating to tell his father stories. His mom holds the hand of his father between her hands, tracing the veins and age spots. They cry, they laugh and somehow the night passes them by.
When Oz and his mom leave the hospital room, the sun is already rising again. They agreed to drive home, sleep, eat and come back around noon. As much as Oz wants to stay, he knows that this is the logical decision. Kendall joins them again in the waiting room, where she was waiting for them. Together they take the elevator down towards the exit and entry area.
There, Oz spots Daphne lying across two chairs, her jacket draped over her shoulders. Oz is surprised she is still here; he texted her to go home hours ago. Truthfully, he hadn’t checked his phone since. And knowing Daphne, she probably just texted him “No”.
His mother’s eyes fly over to him, looking slightly confused. “What’s Daphne doing here, Lev?”
“Uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “she drove me.”
“Oh?” There is a knowing glance in his mother’s eyes, her voice ever so slightly teasing. He ignores it. Instead, he goes over and nudges Daphne’s shoulder lightly. She practically jumps up at the touch, her flight instinct activated until her eyes settle on Oz.
“Sorry,” he says, “didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, that’s alright,” she murmurs, her voice sleepy. She pushes her hair out of her while sitting up. Then she proceeds to rub the sleep out of the corner of her eyes.
“How are you?” she asks, looking up at him. The question throws him off. How is he? He doesn’t know. Surviving, probably. He hasn’t really stopped and inspected his feelings. He just feels like shit.
His face must answer for him, because Daphne looks at him, stands up and wraps her arms around him in a comforting hug. His arms close around her and he melts into her touch. There is a warmth in his chest, shortly overpowering the hurt he feels.
“It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs into his shoulder. He holds her closer, a littler firmer, as if that would make her words come true.
It feels nice, having her so close to him. It is weirdly comforting. It eases something inside him as if she took a little part of his pain to carry it for him.
Eventually, they have to part. Not because Oz wants to, but because he can’t stay here wrapped up in her embrace forever.
“Thanks, Daph,” he says, when they look at each other again. “You really didn’t have to stay though.”
“But I wanted too. I am here for you.” Her hand travels down his arm, before squeezing his hand lightly. “I called Soto. Said there was a family emergency. You are excused for the week.”
“Thanks,” Oz croaks out. He hasn’t even thought about work. But, of course, he was supposed to be there in a few hours.
“You’re welcome.”
They smile sadly at each other for a short moment, before his mother steps forward.
“Daphne, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says. Daphne takes a step to the side, now facing her mother. She looks back at Oz, a face saying, “You didn’t tell her?”. He just shrugs. It didn’t come up.
“I was just driving Oz over here,” she explains, pointing with her thumb towards him. “I am really sorry, Dilara.”
“Thank you, honey,” his mom says before pulling Daphne in a short hug. She whispers something in Daphne’s ear, which causes a blush to spread down her neck. Daphne nods, before pulling back again. Her gaze settles on Kendall, not quite sure where to put her.
“This is Kendall, by the way, our neighbor’s daughter,” Oz introduces them, gesturing from one to the other. “Kendall, this Daphne, my friend and colleague.”
“Nice to meet you,” Daphne says extending her hand. Kendall takes it.
“Likewise. I heard so much about you.” Daphne’s eyebrows rise ever so slightly. Now it is Oz turn to blush. It’s true, he does talk about her a lot. But they work together. He sees her more often than anyone in his life. Of course she is a big part of that.
“Oh, really? I hope only the good stuff.”
“The best.” Daphne turns to look back at Oz, a small smile tugging at her lips. He returns it, a small silent exchange between them.
“Shall we?” his mom asks, looking at all of them. Oz nods. He is really exhausted.
They make their way down to the parking lot. The air is fresh, but warm and to Oz it feels like taking the first real breath in hours. There is an easy conversation going on, but he mostly drowns that out and watches the other three talk animatedly to each other. Kendall and Daphne seem to get along great.
Once they are in the car, Oz almost falls asleep as soon as he sits down. But he forces himself upwards, turning towards Daphne. Her hair is messy from laying on the hospital chairs, dark circles under her eyes. But somehow, she doesn't look exhausted at all.
He can’t believe she stayed for him. Gratitude swells in his chest.
“Thanks, Daph. I know I said that a lot today, but I really do mean it.”
“I know,” she says. “You would do the same for me.”
“Yeah, I would.”
He really, really would. Sometimes it baffles him; this trust, this companionship that they built. It feels so natural, so easy. Oz has a lot of great friends, who he loves dearly. It just never felt as easy as with Daphne. This quiet understanding that they have is really precious to him. She knows what he means with just a glance and vice versa. And if glances aren’t enough, she listens to every word he says.
But today, he can’t find the words to express his feelings – to talk about the immense grief possessing his body, even though his father isn’t dead yet.
He is just so grateful to have her.
He is even more grateful when she picks up the phone three days later, when they decide to turn off the machines. When he exits the hospital that day, he is a changed man. A man without his father on earth with him. Daphne is already outside in the hot Californian sun, waiting for him with open arms.