Something Worth Fixing + Note to the Dean
It was late in the evening, around a quarter after the bell that tolls at midnight. A long day of grading and researching further into his personal devices, Professor Bache would have just gotten home. His jacket was unclasped and his hair falling from the bow that he had tied up that morning. His eyes were sunken in; slightly reddened and dry from all of the reading and the lack of giving himself a break to do much else. He was a man on a academic mission, which made it hard for him to stop even when he knows he should. The worst part was, was that he wasn’t satisfied with how far he had gotten that evening regardless.
Unlatching his front door, Garry wandered into his abode on light feet, peering around to see all candles blown out and light fixtures off. He wandered to the foot locker that sat just a few feet to the east of the door; resting himself against the wall as he knelt down to peel off his shoes. Oh, how sore his knees would have been from not using them all day. It was a struggle to stand up straight, and Garry lightly clenched his teeth as he straightened out. Upon further inspection, he would realize that his home was eerily quiet. It was a ghastly silence, though the autumn wind that whistled outside almost echoed over the marble floors of the living space; making it far colder to walk on than before.
Garry rubbed his left cheek, a motion which he usually did in awkward situations; only now he was rubbing it for the sake of feeling how clammy he had become over the course of the evening. Sighing, he walked forward and began to head straight upstairs, his steps quiet; graced by the carpet that lined the center of the staircase that lead him to the floor where his wife and son both lay. The candles were dimmed here, too.
The man tip-toed his way towards the east wing, wandering down the hallway with a slow pace, though his posture was almost painfully relaxed, as if lowering his shoulders were causing him a degree of discomfort that he just decided to keep them raised instead. Upon his short journey, he met with the door to young Selivar’s room. Garry opened the door, albeit hesitantly, not wanting to wake the young boy up from his evening’s slumber. He investigated the nursery for just a moment, striding over mutely and looking down at his son; now removed from a high tiered crib and placed in one that was far more suiting for a child his size.
A smile curled onto Bache’s face as he reached down and stroked the sleeping child’s cheek with a delicate hand. He would bring his face down towards the youth and landing a small kiss on the cheek just previously touched. Garry’s eyes glistened from the moonlight that flooded into the room from outside.
“My, how you’ve grown...It’s almost impossible to believe how old you are… It almost seems as though I’ve missed at least half of your first year on this planet…”
With that, Garry paused and frowned, slowly creeping back up into a stand. His mind shifted back to how things have been over the past year. How he has constantly been working, paying no mind to his personal health. Staying within the campus until late at night, keeping himself locked away in his study and doing nothing to help himself at the prime of his physical health, and hardly so for his mental stability.
A flush of guilt fell over him, and Garry would take a step back from Selivar’s crib, shaking his head faintly. Almost in disgust.
“...I’ve been focused on everything but you… How could I be so foolish…”
Garry spun himself on his left heel and wandered to the windowsill, where he looked out behind crystalline glass. He closed the blinds so that the light of the moon wouldn’t so intensely shine through to disturb the baby peacefully slumbering. Garry closed his eyes as he did so; brushing his forehead over the silken drapes.
“....Mother Moon, I am inclined to believe in you...But yet, you let me do something with which I’d never forgive myself. Just how am I meant to have faith?” He slurred.
Sighing, the man would silently glance back over to the crib, and strode out in silence. His steps much more shy than before; not as long as his extensive strides would permit him. He closed the door and wandered back down the hall, now to the west to enter the room where his wife was already tucked in bed; alone and on the right side. Her maroon hair sprawled over the suede pillow and eyes closed in peace. She looked as though she was dreaming something lovely; with a smile on her face as she laid.
Garry couldn’t help but smile, looking down at her and being able to look at her beauty. He peeled off his jacket, which had gotten moderately heavier over the course of the day, as his energy waned. He hung it up, as well as discarding his first blouse. He couldn’t resist much longer than that, wandering over to Elvira and landing a kiss on her lips; the sleeping beauty of his fairytale.
Though she did not awaken; she shifted her body faintly and allowed herself to snuggle closer to the pillow, before turning over to her opposite side, extending her arm out towards what should have been her husband, resting down next to her by this time of night. The smile slipped from her slumbering lips and she relaxed, though the expression on her face clearly warped.
Garry looked at this; observing closely and witnessing the disappointment in her mind as her hand clutched the sheets, instead of the warmth of her husband. Garry’s cheeks fell to a shade of grey, his heart sinking to his socks. He didn’t know what to do; but one thing had come apparent to him. How long was she missing him at night; where he couldn’t sleep, so he got up to work even more? How did Selivar feel not being able to get a kiss from father, or never had him to read a bedtime story too? It was not like Selivar could express these feelings outright. But it must have hurt.
Garry would chew his lip. Him sleeping was none of his concern; he always had work to do, and he always wanted to get it done, no matter the time. What he had not realized, was that he was forgetting about how his family may have been feeling about his absence at night. His inability to rest, and how that disrupted Elvira’s sleeping schedule. The countless times she had walked into his study and put a blanket over his shoulders at five in the morning; when he had finally collapsed at his desk?
Just how many times was that?
The man’s breath hitched in his throat, and he shook his head. He had always gotten his work done on time; but yet he pushed on until he was days ahead, and even then, he refused to rest. By the time the sun raised, he would normally be hunched over his desk or fell asleep with his glasses on downstairs at the bar; where he had eaten his dinner hours after it already ran cold.
This was hurting his relationship with not only Elvira, but Selivar as well. Being there for your child in the light terms of the evening to ensure that everyone is warm is a father’s job. And Garry had been missing that, due to his restless behavior. His inability to sleep, and his reflex to suddenly go work in his study because of that inability.
“No more.” He stated to himself.
The Professor quickly walked outside of the suite, walking down the stairs once more as he cuts into the main hallway on the first floor. He entered his study and scrounged for a free parchment amongst his organized chaos, taking a quill into hand and dipping it in violet ink. With that, he began to write.
The letter was written in fine calligraphy, and enclosed in a tea-stained envelope with a royal blue wax seal on the front. It arrived directly to Dean Crowelley by a tabby cat the next day, quite possibly through a friendly encounter.
“Dear Dean Amaranthaea Crowelley, Ph.D,
It has come to my attention, more now than ever before, that I need to have a conversation with you for both business and personal reason. We must discuss on the progression of Miss Sparrowsong’s health, as previously mentioned, but I now also have a dire situation that I believe you could help me with. As a medical professional of both magical and field capability, I am entrusting you in helping me find a solution; be that by medication or otherwise, to cure what I have neglected for so long.
Normally, I would pay this no mind. But it seems as though something has been brought into light about how I have been failing to do one of the most important things a new father should.
I am usually against practices and medication to help such trivial things, but, I also believe that my family is more important than my biased thinking.
I will be making a meeting inquiry as soon as possible, and I hope that you will be willing to discuss some alternative methods for sleeping. I wish to not miss anymore nights of saying my wishes to my family before they go to bed. Nor do I want to cause my body more damage than I already have, by not being able to rest.
With minor urgency necessary, let me know the time you are available and if you accept my letter as a valid topic to uphold a meeting.
Professor Gareth D. Bache.”