With gentle force you made Michael calm down and seated him at the table.

He seemed awfully jittery in his current state, his eyes darted through the room as if he didn't know where he was while his hands kept feeling for surfaces and your hands.

Patiently, you let him hold onto you and waited until his gaze met yours on its own.

A smile appeared on his old face. It was strange how old he looked all of a sudden. Not that he was young, but he looked a lot older than usual. As if he had lost his last bit of energy.

His hands were shaking, you noticed. Unnaturally much so.

"Are you feeling unwell?", you asked, concern making your voice weak.

He shook his head enthusiastically.

"Not at all, Charlie.", he said and patted your hand. "You're always so worried."

Confused yet worried, you frowned and had to swallow hard.

"Michael I'm not Charlie.", you tilted your head to get a closer look at the many movements that crossed his wrinkly face. "Mom's dead, don't you remember?"

His watery eyes widened. Then they jumped through the room again.

His grip on your hand tightened for the breath of a second. Michael nodded.

"Right, right...", he sighed and patted your hand once again as if he needed to do it or he'd go crazy. "I forgot. Poor Charlie. She was such a sweet woman. A sweet, sweet woman."

His gaze locked with yours once again.

Unsure, you shook your head. Questions flooded your mind but not a single one could leave your mouth. This wasn't the man you knew for all your life. He was confused. Old.

"What happened?", you asked, almost desperate to find an explanation that wouldn't include the very worst that could be brought upon a human being.

A huff escaped him. It sounded almost mocking.

"You know what happened, Herman.", he said, all of a sudden so serious as if he was talking to a man who had committed the unforgivable. "You could have been better. Charlie deserved better."

Even more confused you leaned back, shaking your head.

"What are you talking about, Michael? Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

You wanted to pull away but his grip on your hand tightened. A sharp pain chased through your bones.

You flinched.

Michael kept staring. It felt like his eyes cut through all the layers of skin, flesh and bones, froze your blood and made your heart stop.

It was something you had never seen him do before.

And somehow it scared you.

"You were such a terrible husband.", his face did not change as he spoke like he was asleep. "Charlie was a good woman. A good wife. How could you do this to her?"

You tried to free yourself from his grip with more force but for a man his age Michael was surprisingly strong.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Michael. You're hurting me!"

"You hurt Charlie."

"My mom is dead."

"Yes, because you made her depressed."

"She died in a car accident. Don't you remember?"

He huffed. What a strange huff it was, so mocking and judgemental.

It wasn't like Michael to huff that way. Especially not when the mockery was dedicated towards you.

All of a sudden he pulled you to him with such strength that you couldn't help but obey. Your free hand reached out to seek support on the edge of the table to avoid getting head butted by him.

"She killed herself.", Herman and you know that, his eyes were so full of darkness as he said it, so emotionless yet hateful. "She drove that car against the tree on purpose. And she almost killed your child as well."

Goosebumps crawled all over your body.

Your blood froze inside your veins.

All of a sudden it felt like you've been hit by a truck.

For what felt like an eternity you weren't able to move or speak a word. All you managed to do was stare into the face of the man that you had known all your life.

Your eyes trembled with emotions as you forced his hand open to finally free yourself from his influence.

"I was never in that car, Michael.", you didn't know why but it was all that you managed to press out in that moment.

Michael stared at you. He blinked. And stared.

The silence that hung above the two of you was like a blanket that could have suffocated everyone all at once.

You couldn't breathe.

Strangely enough, Michael blinked, looked around the kitchen for a brief second and then looked back at you again. At the sight of your face his expression changed.

Confusion appeared in his eyes.

"(Y/N)...", he mumbled like a lost child. "I didn't hear you come in. Oh my god, this is a mess! I'm so sorry, I'll clean it. What got into me?"

He wanted to get up from his seat but you immediately grabbed him by the wrist to make him stop.

Innocently confused, he looked at you.

"Michael.", your voice trembled as his name crossed your lips. "I'll ask you once. What in the hell is going on with you?"

And once again he just looked at you. Many, many emotions crossed his face all at once.

Exhaustion.

Fear.

Tiredness.

Regret.

Everything melted together to form the face of a man who knew that there was no way out no more.

Nothing was left for him but the trough.

A long, painfully heavy sigh rolled of his lips.

His shoulders sunk even deeper as he slid his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out an orange container. Pills jiggled inside.

"I'm old, my child.", Michael said and placed the meds on the table to that you could read the label. "And so is my head. Nothing will get easier. Time takes us all."

With fear thing your throat, you kept your eyes on him, reached out and grabbed the small bottle to read.

"Lecanemab.", you read the label. "Michael those are..."

"Alzheimer's medication.", he chuckled tiredly. "Not very effective anymore, as you now can tell. I'm sorry."