Marvel: Silver Hand

Celebrimbor hovered silently in the hospital room, carefully observing Alexander as the boy lay in bed. His grey eyes were wide with wariness, darting around the room as if expecting the "ghost" to reappear at any moment.

The wraith had learned his lesson—appearing too suddenly to the boy had been a mistake. He remained hidden, watching from the shadows until Damian and Sophia finally left to get coffee, leaving Alexander alone.

The moment the door closed, Celebrimbor emerged, his form shimmering faintly as he moved closer to the bed.

Alexander saw him immediately, his eyes going even wider. His small chest rose and fell quickly, his hands clutching the blanket like a shield.

Before the boy could scream again, Celebrimbor held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Wait! I am a friend," he said, his voice soft and soothing. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Alexander hesitated, his bottom lip quivering.

Thinking quickly, Celebrimbor contorted his spectral face into a silly expression, crossing his eyes and sticking out his translucent tongue. It wasn't the kind of thing he ever imagined doing, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Alexander blinked. And then, to Celebrimbor's relief, he giggled.

"There, you see?" Celebrimbor said, a faint smile tugging at his ghostly features. "I'm not so scary, am I?"

The boy shook his head, his laughter fading into a curious stare. "What's your name?"

"My name?" Celebrimbor paused. How could a four-year-old possibly pronounce such a name? "It's Celebrimbor."

"Brimbor?" Alexander repeated, tilting his head.

Celebrimbor sighed, but a flicker of amusement softened his frustration. "Close enough," he said. "You may call me Brimbor."

Alexander grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

"Now, listen carefully," Celebrimbor said, crouching down to the boy's level. His voice took on a more serious tone. "You must not tell anyone about me. Not your mother, not your father, not your friends. No one."

"Why?" Alexander asked, his voice small.

"Because," Celebrimbor said, narrowing his eyes in an exaggeratedly spooky way, "if you do… I will haunt you forever!"

The boy gasped, his grey eyes wide with fear.

"But only if you tell," Celebrimbor quickly added, softening his tone. He made another funny face to lighten the mood, and Alexander burst into laughter again, nodding.

"I won't tell," the boy said between giggles.

"Good." Celebrimbor straightened, satisfied.

The next day, Alexander was discharged from the hospital. His parents packed his things while the boy kept sneaking glances at Celebrimbor, who floated silently in the corner, invisible to everyone else.

During the car ride home, Alexander's curiosity got the better of him.

"Brimbor?" he whispered, looking at the wraith.

Damian glanced at his son in the rearview mirror. "What's that, buddy?"

"Are you okay?" Sophia asked, turning in her seat to face him.

Celebrimbor shot Alexander a warning look. "Don't say a word," he whispered.

Alexander hesitated, then quickly nodded. "I'm okay," he said, his voice small.

Sophia smiled, though she still looked a bit worried. "Alright, sweetheart."

When they arrived back at the apartment building, the staff greeted Sophia with respect, addressing her as "Ms. Athos" and offering polite nods. Celebrimbor observed this with interest, piecing together what he had misunderstood before. Sophia didn't rule the building in the way he'd imagined—she simply owned it.

The family returned to their apartment, a cozy haven filled with warmth and love. Damian and Sophia tucked Alexander into bed, kissing his forehead and wishing him sweet dreams.

"Goodnight, buddy," Damian said, turning off the lights and leaving the room.

Alexander lay awake for a while, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of Celebrimbor. But the wraith was nowhere to be seen.

The next morning, Alexander bounded out of bed, searching for the ghostly figure.

"Brimbor?" he called softly. There was no response.

Celebrimbor, unseen and unheard, watched from the shadows, his brow furrowed in thought. "So it is as I suspected," he muttered to himself. "The boy only sees me when he brushes against the edge of death."

Realizing he couldn't communicate with Alexander, Celebrimbor retreated into silence, observing from afar.

Later that day, Alexander approached his parents as they sat in the living room, sipping coffee.

"Mom? Dad?" he began hesitantly.

Sophia set her mug down. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I… I saw a ghost," Alexander said, his voice trembling slightly.

Damian raised an eyebrow, glancing at Sophia. "A ghost?"

Alexander nodded. "His name is Brimbor. He said he's my friend."

Sophia smiled gently, brushing a hand through his hair. "Oh, honey, that's probably just your imagination. You've been through a lot with the fall and the coma."

"Yeah," Damian added. "Sometimes our brains can play tricks on us when we're not feeling well."

Alexander hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yeah… maybe."

As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder, his grey eyes searching for any sign of the wraith.

In the corner of the room, unseen by all but the boy, Celebrimbor allowed himself a small smile. The boy's curiosity and resilience reminded him of something he hadn't felt in a long time—a flicker of hope.