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[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tH2w6Oxx0kQ]Dust in the Wind by Kansas[/url]

Robert sat at the kitchen table of his home, staring at his old wrinkled hands as they shook uncontrollably. It’d been more than 80 years since he graduated Beacon, and he was ready to rest. Pushing back the chair and grabbing his cane, the now gray haired Robert began to slowly walk towards the staircase.

As he approached the first step, he looked at some of the many pictures that decorated the walls. The first two were of his graduation from Beacon. One, of him and his friends all holding their certificates, everyone smiling. Even the infamously pessimistic Abel had a slight grin. The other, was of him kissing Priscilla. When Team JMCL found her on their mission, it was the happiest day of his life. Robert looked back at the steps and sighed, “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten a two story house.”

One hand gripping at the rail, the other on his cane, Robert made the arduous task of lifting his foot high enough to reach the first step. “Ah, remember how full of life we used to be in our younger days, sweetheart,” he said as he looked back at the wall full of pictures. The one he saw now was of his wedding day. “You probably would if you were still here,” Robert said, a tear coming to his eye as he struggled to remember when it was that Priscilla’s heart finally gave out. “I wish I could.” He was referring to his mental illness. About ten years ago, Robert had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, his memories were always fading away. People, places, events. Very few were left in the old man’s mind. He continued up the steps.

“Halfway… there,” he groaned. Robert was beginning to lose his breath. He began to have a coughing fit, barely able to continue standing. When he pulled his hand from his mouth, he saw spots of blood. “There goes my lung. Hahah-” More coughing. Looking to his left, he saw what pictures were near him now: The day his kids were born. “R- Robert Jr. and… and… Dammit don’t forget your kids’ names!” he cried. “‘L.’ It started with an ‘L’... Lilly! It was Lilly.” He smiled. He hadn’t forgotten. They were still there. “Okay, let’s go.”

Only a few steps away from the top floor now, the dying man looked at where he was on the timeline of photos to his left. It was a photo of him with his friends again, this time for their Beacon Reunion Party. “Shiro always did throw the best parties… or was that Gren? Oswald maybe?” Robert shrugged, ignored the loud ‘pop’ that his shoulders had just made while doing so, and finally stepped off those god awful stairs.

Finally, he was nearing the bedroom. “Took me long enough. Hah-” More coughing, more blood. “Ah, and there goes the other lung.” Lifting the sheets, he climbed into the bed and turned to look at the nightstand beside him. The top of it was filled to brim with pill bottle after pill bottle, with only one thing not being made of the white and orange plastic container. Another picture, this one of his entire family. Him, Priscilla, Robert Jr. and his wife and kids, and Lilly with her husband and kids. Robert didn’t even bother trying to remember their names. “I don’t think I could keep their names straight even before I was diagnosed.” He picked up the small portrait and pressed it up to his chest. He closed his eyes. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he began to fall to a sleep that he would not be waking from.
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