Misha sat on the couch in the living room, gnawing on his fingernails. He was so nervous it felt like his stomach was clenching, his bowels twisting around and making knots. His sister, who was slouching beside him, wasn't any better. She was trying to scroll through her phone to pass the time but always ended up staring at the ceiling instead. The anxiety took its toll on the siblings as they awaited news. Seconds seemed to stretch into minutes and minutes into hours.
"When was Tristan's appointment again?" Misha asked for the hundredth time in less than an hour. "It should be soon, right?"
Masha nodded, glancing at the number hanging in the corner of the phone screen. Currently, Tristan, Gabriel, Jake, and Angela should be meeting with the doctor to discuss the MRI results. Gabriel was then supposed to call them afterward to tell them the dreaded news they all feared.
After the appointment last Saturday, the doctor agreed to order an urgent MRI, which had to be scheduled for the following Friday at the latest. They were fortunate enough to secure an appointment on Monday, although they had to drive to another town to get it done. Now, it was Wednesday. Of course, this wasn't something they could hide from Tristan's parents, as they were still legally his guardians. Needless to say, Angela freaked out when she was told her baby kid went to the doctor on Saturday and was ordered an MRI. Then, after the MRI, she received a call on Tuesday to arrange an appointment as fast as possible and got one the next morning. That wasn't a good sign.
Gabriel kept them updated about the situation. Although Misha and Masha would have liked to follow around, they couldn't. Angela wouldn't allow it, reasoning that they were not family and Misha had school while Masha had work. Angela was so anxious she lashed out at everyone, and the Lesskove siblings hadn't been spared. But whatever the crazy witch said, they took today off from school and work, huddling on the couch instead as they waited for the news they were dreading. They didn't have the mind for anything right now, anyway.
Gulnas knew what was going on and didn't reprimand them for skipping. Instead, she took possession of the kitchen and cooked their favorite food, aware that Misha was in no state to touch the stove today. She knew words of comfort would be nothing more than white lies, so she abstained from saying anything. All they could do for now was wait and hope for the best, just like she had after learning her mother's cancer had returned.
As they say, hope springs eternal.
When his phone rang, Misha almost had a heart attack. He clumsily took it and swept the screen open, putting the call on speaker so Masha could hear everything, too. There was no "Good morning" and no "How are you" as Misha drove straight into the matters at hand.
"What's the diagnosis?"
"..." There was a deafening silence before Gabriel sighed. It was a long, tired sigh. "It's as we feared. There's a tumor the size of a grapefruit. From its shape, the doctor said it didn't appear malignant, nor did it seem like it'll spread anytime soon. The problem, however, is the area where it's located. If the tumor grows in size or moves over time and reaches this other area, the operation might become increasingly risky, if not impossible. She said we needed to meet with a brain specialist and see what the options were, as she couldn't pronounce herself further on the matter. On the bright side, we're lucky it was detected so soon. Now, we have to wait to meet with-"
A shrill scream interrupted Gabriel. The female voice sounded somewhat familiar, which made Misha associate it with Angela. It was so high-pitched that his tantrums almost burst on the other side of the phone, never mind Gabriel's.
"I'll call you later. Angela is throwing a fit, and the poor medical staff is suffering." Gabriel paused a second before adding, "Don't worry too much. Everything will be fine."
Then, Gabriel hung up. The beeping sound echoed throughout the living room as Misha stared at the black screen. The little hope he had entertained deep down was now officially shattered. Knowing there truly was a tumor didn't alleviate his anxiety. On the contrary, it reached a new peak. It was the kind of grim news no one wanted to hear and was hard to swallow. Even if he had been mentally preparing himself, Misha still felt like his world had been thrown upside down.
Would the little Tristan he loved so much really vanish if they couldn't take care of this tumor…?
As his emotions were dragged into an inner turmoil, Masha pulled her little brother into her arms, caressing his back in a soothing manner. Only then did Misha realize he was crying. It wasn't ugly crying where he bawled his eyes out, no. It was the silent crying, where tears slowly rolled down his cheeks and dripped at his chin. There was no sobbing, no sound. Only tears.
If the tumor wasn't removed, they all knew Tristan would turn into someone else, and the kind and cute kid they adored would gradually turn into an unfeeling teenager, before eventually becoming a heartless adult. But an operation to the brain wasn't to be taken lightly, either. Gabriel hadn't said anything yet about the risks it'd entail, but Misha was already imagining the worst. What if they did an operation, and the child died as a result? What if the operation didn't succeed or damaged something? Fear crept on Misha, and he could do nothing to defend himself against it. He hadn't even been as emotionally affected when the news of his grandmother's cancer reached his ears. He had been indifferent to it. Maybe because he had already gone through her funeral once, he wasn't sure.
But now… Now, it was hell. The thought of potentially losing Tristan, whom he saw as his own little brother, was tearing him up from the inside out. He could not bear it.
***
Gabriel stared at his reflection on the black screen for a few seconds before turning on his heel and going back inside the doctor's office, where Angela was throwing a fit. Tristan was sitting on the chair, his head lowered, while his mother hurled insults and whatnot at the doctor. Jake stood on her left, glaring at the poor middle-aged woman before him. He had this arrogant and snobbish air around him, as if everyone was beneath him and deserved to grovel at his feet, doctors or not. In truth, however, Jake would rather try to calm down the crazy madwoman beside him than follow along, but that would be out of character for his persona. He had to be an asshole, even if the woman had only been doing her job. It wasn't her fault Tristan had a brain tumor, yet she still had to deal with these people who were accusing her as if she had deliberately planted that tumor in the kid's brain.
"How could you not realize something was wrong during his annual checkup?!" Angela shouted at the top of her lungs. "How incompetent can you get?!"
A slight frown creased Gabriel's eyebrows. Many various causes could be behind a headache, and a brain tumor usually wasn't the first thing to pop up in doctors' minds. Even on their appointment on Saturday, the doctor hadn't been too concerned at first when Tristan brought up the headache. It was only when he started to talk about other symptoms that she began to take it seriously and ultimately ordered an urgent MRI. Tristan didn't actually have all these symptoms per se, but he had agreed with his brothers to bring up symptoms his past selves had experienced throughout their lives to put some more weight into their worries. He might have exaggerated some a bit, too. The point was to convince the doctor that something was very wrong, and it did the trick.
"Mom," Gabriel called, the word seeming to burn his tongue. He could never get used to it. "Can you lower your voice? It's not good for Tristan."
To this, Tristan nodded timidly, and Angela finally calmed down. She was still fuming, but she didn't want to aggravate her baby boy's headache. As such, she smiled sweetly at her son, her furious, vicious temper suddenly vanishing. She bent over and gently said:
"Do you want to go to the cafeteria with your brothers and buy some cake while I talk with the doctor?"
The boy nodded vigorously. Jake pretended to be unhappy with the babysitting chore, grumbling and whining. At the same time, Gabriel smiled apologetically to the doctor, who smiled back, seemingly telling him that it was alright and that she was used to this kind of reaction. People reacted differently to bad news, but it wasn't rare for parents to grow violent when it concerned their precious children. Screams and hitting walls were usual occurrences.
The three brothers left without a delay, leaving behind Angela with the doctor. They couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief once she was out of earshot. Her shrill voice was hard on the tantrums.
"Is there something you want to eat?" Jake asked softly, ruffling the boy's curly hair.
"I'm not really hungry," Tristan shook his head. "I have no appetite, to be honest. Can we just sit on the terrace and get some fresh air? I'd like some peace."
"Sure, no problem."
Neither Jake nor Gabriel commented on the boy's lack of appetite. It was a normal reaction. Tristan might be mature for his age, but he just received the confirmation that a tumor was lodged in his frontal lobe. The fear that had kept him awake for so many nights was now crystalized in concrete. If they could not remove it, his ability to feel emotions, like any other human, would be affected as years passed. And that scared him to death, way more than the prospect of dying on the surgery table.