By the time Michael's father returned home from work, the young man had already shut himself in his room. William Grey was a tall man, with slightly cropped black hair and blessed with quite the handsome face courtesy of the good genes of the Grey family. Although that image had been somewhat diminished by decades of constant hardwork and severe exhaustion from having to raise a family on his own.
The man stepped into the house, unsurprised by the lack of noise from the entire place. There were only two other people that lived there beside him, and neither of them were particularly social butterflies. William hung his tool belt on the prepared rack just beside the window and made his way up the short flight of stairs. Once he reached the top, he heard the sound of a door opening and soon enough his son Michael appeared at the hallway. The young man's face was as blank as always, something William had long since given up attempting to get his son to change.
"Hey Mike. How's it going?"
"Well enough. Are things at the construction site looking good?"
"For the most part yeah. I mean, the crew was kinda getting frustrated by how long the Kramer House is taking to build but we're gonna get it done."
Michael simply nodded once and glanced down at the white plastic bottle in his hand. His father's eyes followed his gaze and they widened once he recognized the label on the bottle.
"Michael! Is that—!?"
"You're going to wake up Ari if you keep yelling like that," Michael cut him off sharply.
"How did you get that?!" William whispered in a mixture of surprise and concern.
"We can talk about this later. I need to give Ari her medicine."
William opened his mouth to speak again but thought better of it and offered his son a curt nod. Michael returned the gesture and walked towards the other door across his room. His mind ran through possible excuses to give his father as he knocked once on the door before pushing it open gently. The frigid aloofness that was ever present in his dark eyes soon melted away as Michael approached the person he loved the most in the entire world.
The door creaked as the young man pushed it open, peering into the dimly lit room. His eyes settled on the small lump under the covers, his heart constricting at the sight of his beloved sister lying there, sick and vulnerable. Even with her pale skin and tired expression, she still remained a sleeping beauty thanks to the similarities between her features and his. Taking slow, measured steps, he approached the bed and sat down next to her, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. With gentle hands, he lifted her head and brought the bottle of medicine to her lips, murmuring soothing words of comfort as he helped her swallow two pills from the bottle. They had done this so many times that her body had automatically learned to respond even even she was unconscious, which unfortunately was now more often than not. He sat with her for a while, his fingers tracing soft circles on her back, watching as she drifted off to sleep. More than anything, he wished he could take away her pain and make her better, but for now, this small act of kindness would have to suffice.
As he sat there in the quiet of the room, his mind drifted to memories of his sister. Ariana Grey, out Ari as he and all who were fond of her called her, had not always been this way. Despite being only a year younger than he was, she had always been the one with the larger than life disposition. To start with, she was the only one in their little family who had the same blonde hair that was customary for a Grey. Michael himself had inherited his father's dark hair coloration. He remembered how they used to play together as children, chasing each other around their modest house whenever she tried to pry him out of the shell he built around himself in his early years. He thought about all the times she had been there for him, offering a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on when things got too difficult. And now, as she lay there helpless and sick, he felt a deep sense of sadness and helplessness wash over him.
The doctor they had visited for her diagnosis two years ago when the sickness had started had said that she was suffering from Levine's Disease, named after the man Dr Alfred Levine who had discovered the disease a few decades ago. Most of the symptoms were minor and generic, but the major effect of the disease was the gradual and nigh unstoppable wearing down of the body due to over excitement of the mitochondria in the cells. A special treatment had been created but the astronomical cost had forced Michael and his father to turn to the less effective method of using another expensive drug, albeit not as much as the first form of treatment. The drug only served to lower the activity of her cells though, not being enough to serve as an actual cure but rather simply delaying the inevitable.