Chapter 97 - Do you want to watch your son die?
1478 Words
Chapter 97 - Do you want to watch your son die?
It seems I didn’t need to advise Rome to pretend that he is feeling unwell.
When I got to his room, I scented his omega pheromones and realised that he was already in heat, but instead of acting on his s****l instincts, he simply lay there in the middle of his bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Rome, we have a visitor,” his mother called out to him, but he didn’t move.
“He is currently in heat.”
“What?” she frowned at me, “But he just had his monthly estrus!”
“Are there any alphas in your residence?”
“Only his kuya who’s currently in university right now.”
“Good. Let’s just hope it is not too late for him.”
I opened my brief case and took out a suppressant. Mrs. Chu watched me like a vulture as I prepared the ampule and injected her unresponsive son.
He didn’t even flinch when I injected him, which made his mother worry. She started slapping his arm.
“Rome? Rome, anak, are you okay?”
Still, there was no response.
“Rome? Baby, can you hear mommy?!”
She started slapping his face.
“Mrs. Chu, please let the medicine take its course. You are not helping by slapping your son.”
She quickly pulled back and stared at me, teary-eyed.
“Doc, is my son going to be okay?”
“Hopefully, if he’s not too far gone...”
I took out the compact of calming cream from my case and hastened to smear it on his temples, masagging him gently. I released my pheromones as well, helping to cancel his heat. I did not stop until I got some response from him.
“Rome!” his mother cried on his side when he finally blinked and looked at me. “Baby! Are you okay?!”
Rome did not answer, he simply stared at his mother, then back at me.
“I’m going to get his vitals,” I took out a spygmomamometer to check his blood pressure. His body feels so cold. “He has hypotension. His sistolic is 68, diastolic at 40. It is too low.”
“What do we do now, doc?”
“For now, you should serve him some liquids, particularly fruit juices. When was the last time he ate?”
“L-last night...” Mrs. Chu looked away from me. She looked guiltily at her clenched fists.
“Have you been starving your son, Mrs. Chu?”
“W-well... he didn’t have an appetite, so...”
“So you decided not to feed him anything?”
She kept silent.
“As you can clearly see, your son is not merely `faking’ it. Ask your maids to prepare a light meal for him.”
Mrs. Chu stood then and left the room. I watched her close the door behind her and heard her call to someone to prepare some food.
“Rome, can you hear me?” I asked my patient. “Do you know who I am?” he nodded. I took hold of his hand. “Can you squeeze my hand?”
He was very weak.
“I just gave you a suppressant and some calming cream. I had no idea your health would deteriorate at this rate. Do you still have the shirt belonging to your mate?”
He tried to shake his head.
“Where is it?”
“Mommy... threw it away.”
I quickly stood up and headed for the door. Mrs. Chu was about to open it and was surprised when I stepped outside.
“Your son told me that you took a shirt belonging to his mate. Where is it?”
“W-what... of course, I threw it away!”
“Where?” I repeated.
“Where else?! And what use is a filthy shirt? He might even get some kind of disease from that rag!”
“That shirt has the pheromones of your son’s alpha mate. It helps keep him alive. Now tell me where you threw it?”
She stared at me, her mouth agape, then looked at one of the maids.
“H-hahanapin ko po sa basurahan, maam!”
”Make it quick, or better yet, I suggest you call his mate this instant to stabilize his condition.”
“Never. That man is a good for nothing from a no-name family. He is not fit to be with my son!”
“So you would much rather watch your son die?” I asked.
“No, but...”
“Ma’am! Ma’am eto po `yung uniporme!”
One of the maids came back running with a wrinkled shirt in her hand. It looked filthy.
I took it from her, shook out most of the dirt, and folded it to the cleanest area before going back inside the room.
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna give that to him?!” Mrs. Chu complained.
I ignored her and placed the shirt next to Rome’s pillow.
He seemed to be asleep, his eyes were shut, but they fluttered open after a while. He sniffed the air, lunged at the folded uniform and sank his face into it.
“Rome!” Mrs. Chu was about to take it away, but I stopped her.
“I ask you again, Mrs. Chu. Do you want to watch your son die?”
She glared at me, but didn’t make another move.
“Are you saying then that a filthy shirt is more effective than all the medicine you have in your brief case?” she snapped at me.
“No. It is his mate’s pheromoes that are helping him right now. I strongly suggest that you let them meet. As you can see, it is the only way to save your son.”
“What about that suppressant you gave him earlier? That cream you used on him?”
“Those can only be used temporarily,” I replied.
“So you’re saying that there is no cure for this FPS?!”
“None yet,” I corrected her. “Though we do have our theories. We can use surgery to severe the connection in his brain, if you are willing to give us your consent to experiment on your son...”
“Of course not!” she quickly answered.
“Then, no, there is still no proven cure for FPS as of present. The only possible way to stop this decline is to let him be with his fated pair.”
Mrs. Chu went silent. She glared at me, then at her son who clung to his mate’s shirt as if his life depended on it.
It actually does.
“Okay... I’ll think about it... for now, can you sell me that suppressant you just used?”
“I am sorry, but only a licensed omega health practitioner can use this medication.”
“Then, that cream you used!”
“It is very expensive.”
“I don’t care! Just give me the whole container!”
“If you insist,” I took out the compact containing my concentrated calming pheromones. “This much is worth 250,000 pesos.”
Mrs. Chu’s jaw dropped.
“Ano `yan?! Ginto’ng cebo de macho?!” she snapped.
“Like I said, it is very expensive, and it is not available anywhere else.”
“D-do you accept checks?!”
“As long as it does not bounce.”
“O-of course not! Just who do you think I am!”
She walked out of the room, fuming.
I went to Rome’s side to check up on him.
“Rome, how are you feeling?” I asked him.
“Doc... gutom po...”
“They are preparing food as we speak,” I told him, “for now, I want you to keep that shirt with you. Tomorrow, if you are strong enough to go to school, meet up with your mate immediately and spend as many hours as possible together.”
“Pero... si mommy... may bantay ako...”
“Try to meet him, like the way you did yesterday. It is important that you get a new shirt from him each day. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“I will persuade your mother to let you two meet, but for now, this is the most we can do.”
Again he nodded, the shirt pressed against his face.
“Thank you po, doc... thank you...”
Rome’s mother came back shortly after that, as well as their household helpers who brought a trolly full of food and fruits.
She gave me the check begrudgingly. I told her to massage it on her son’s temples every 4 to six hours. After that, I took my leave.
- Writer
