Tristan clenched his jaw, glaring so intently at the phone in his hands that sparks seemed to fly. That bastard! Pierrot timed his message way too perfectly, meaning he had connected his mind to his and watched through his eyes what was happening. It made Tristan's blood boil. Although he was now aware he had no privacy, he hated it when it was shoved into his face this blatantly. Moreover, Pierrot's text was not out of goodwill. Now that Tristan had better access to the man's memories and thoughts, he knew just how disconnected and cold Pierrot truly was. When he could only superficially see Pierrot's point of view through his dreams, Tristan felt that the man was a human trash who took pleasure in people's misery. But that opinion did a turnabout. The reality was far more terrifying.
Since Jake had already figured out who his texting partner was, Tristan did not try to hide it and opened his phone screen to throw insults at Pierrot. On the first call, Tristan had been cautious and chose his wording carefully, afraid to offend the man. However, it changed over time, and caution had long been thrown out the window. What was the point? Pierrot could do the same thing as him and was better at it, too. The guy was fully aware of what was going through Tristan's mind, so why should he lie low and play polite? He might as well vent his frustration and spit out everything. The suffocating feeling that was squashing his rib cage was at least alleviated a little when he did.
'You goddamn asshole! You did it on purpose! I told you I'd talk to them about it soon, so why are you meddling?!'
'You're welcome. Now get your ass to the hospital.'
At these words, a scream of frustration sprang from the pit of his stomach up to his throat, where it got stuck. That guy was insufferable! Tristan had to resist the urge to throw his phone across the living room and instead glanced at his brother, whose smiling face sent shivers running down his spine. Oh, oh, that look spelled trouble…
"Does your head hurt?" Jake asked.
"...Not exactly," Tristan lowered his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead. "It's more like sharp pains that pop up every now and then. They never last long, though! So, they're not headaches per se, so, hum… It might just be the stress, y'know?"
There was a second of silence and stillness before Jake turned around and spoke to the people in the kitchen. His voice was loud enough to be heard by everyone but not loud enough to be considered a shout. Still, it was impossible to ignore the tense tone, the restrained anger, or the worry shaking him up. Jake did his best not to blow up, keeping a calm, stern appearance and attitude. Right now, an outburst would not help. It would only serve to deter Tristan even more. The boy had finally opened up, and Jake feared he'd withdraw again if he hurt his feelings. It was better to tread carefully. However, certain things needed to be done, regardless of the child's mental state.
"There's been a change of plan for today," Jake announced. "Do any of you know any private clinics open on Saturdays?"
They could go straight to the hospital, but Jake wasn't convinced it was the best course of action. He knew how long it could take before meeting a doctor in the public sector, as Tristan's symptoms were not life-threatening. And the most important question was: how hard would it be to convince the doctor that something serious was happening and they needed an MRI right away, not in six months? Too hard. The public sector could get incredibly slow in Canada when a case wasn't urgent or not deemed urgent. That was why Jake turned his attention to the private sector. It cost money, but they could get an appointment and get the MRI done faster. The law dictated that essential services could not be privatized for the citizens. However, people could expedite processes such as appointments, some treatments, or other procedures that are not directly life-threatening via private services. Most private hospitals were regulated by their provinces or territories and could only charge for non-essential services.
As such, Jake planned to get the prerequisites needed via the private sector to accelerate things, then move to the public sector if Tristan needed to be operated, as he and Gabriel had been suspecting he'd need. That part was something they wouldn't be able to do via the private sector, as this sector in Canada could only operate under the pretense that it addressed appointments, treatments, research, and accommodations for chronic diseases or disabilities that weren't mandatory to be treated by the public sector. Back when Gabriel was in a coma, Angela and Matthew managed to switch him to a private hospital as he had been deemed stable by the public sector, and the private hospital was focused on neuro troubles and diseases, making it better suited to take care of the teenager. Well, Angela also pulled a few strings and went so far as to get permission for at-home care, although they still decided to use a private hospital to which they donated money instead.*
"I'll call a friend and see what I can do," Yuki said, raising her hand. As a nurse, she had connections left and right and should be able to find an appointment. Despite being taciturn, she was well-liked for her work ethic and willingness to help whenever needed.
"Thank you," Jake nodded, gesturing for Tristan to get ready while Yuki didn't delay, calling her friend right away.
"What's going on?" Misha asked, troubled. He glanced at the boy, whose head hung low. "Are you alright, Tristan?"
"I'm fine…"
"No, you're not," Jake rebuked, clenching and unclenching his fists. He truly was angry this time. "You promised to tell us the moment strange symptoms were to appear, and you haven't. Why?"
When Gabriel heard his brother's rebuke, his heart sank, and his facial expression grew frosty. Unease and panic crept upon him as he stood up, startling Misha, who almost fell off his chair. But unlike usual, Misha didn't complain. Gabriel's expression spoke volumes, and Jake's tone of voice seemed to pierce his chest. He had never seen them act this way, and it scared him to death. What the hell was going on? At the moment, Misha could not connect the dots. He vaguely remembered a conversation two years ago about Tristan promising to tell his brothers if he started to have headaches when he came out clean, but Misha didn't know why. He had been curious about this strange promise at the time but quickly forgot about it. It was coming back into the spotlight today, and Gabriel and Jake were furious about Tristan not following through with his word. Even now, the boy did not answer his brothers' questions, biting his bottom lip and looking at his feet.
Silence fell, and no one moved as some were still trying to wrap their heads around what was happening. Only Yuki's muffled voice echoed from the bathroom, where she had gone to make her calls to avoid bothering the group while they talked and sorted out what was happening. Although she might have as well stayed since it was drop-dead silent.
Minutes passed by before Stephan broke the standstill, as always. However, his usual annoying smile was gone. For once, a serious expression stretched his facial features. And that may have scared Misha even more than Gabriel and Jake's visible anger.
"Ah, this explains a lot," Stephan commented. "Did you think your brothers would grow scared of you if you told them the symptoms had started?"
"No!" Tristan refuted quickly, but maybe a little too quickly.
"Is that so?" Stephan cocked an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. "You shouldn't be so insecure. Even if they don't manage to take it out and your personality changes, I don't believe your brothers will abandon you. You are far too precious to them now."
The boy's shoulders shook, and that was when Misha and Masha finally started to understand what was going on, albeit not completely. Something was happening to Tristan, something that might change the boy forever.
"What do you mean by that, Stephan?" Misha asked.
The question made Stephan flinch. He could already tell what would happen if he opened his mouth, and he did not want to bear the brunt of Misha's fury after realizing he had been kept in the dark for yet another thing. Thus, Stephan threw the hot potato to Gabriel. He didn't wish to get burned in the crossfire, thank you.
"I'm not sure. Ask Gabriel for his theory."
Although annoyed by Stephan's antics, Misha didn't insist and snapped his head toward Gabriel, followed by Masha. They both intently stared at him, almost trying to drill a hole into his back. He had no choice but to turn around and pinch his lips slightly. He took a moment to organize his thoughts, unsure how to say what he had to say. In the end, Tristan spoke first, relieving him of his burdens.
"Do you remember what happened to my previous selves in the past two timelines?"
Honestly, no. Misha had forgotten. So, he could only stare blankly at the boy.
"They both died relatively young, in their mid-thirties, to be precise. Their personalities also started to grow colder and detached in their teens, and they suffered from terrible headaches throughout their lives."
"Oh, yeah. You did talk a bit about that."
"So, with that in mind, Gabriel, Jake, I, and apparently Stephan too, theorized that they developed a tumor in their brains, but not just anywhere." Tristan's voice turned monotone, almost robotic. "It probably was in the frontal lobes and affected their personalities and abilities to feel emotions. It made them numb and unaffected. But these two never went to the hospital for their headaches and kept gobbling up painkillers instead. So, we don't know for sure."
"Tumor? Frontal lobe?" Misha repeated, at a loss.
At Misha's visible confusion, Tristan smiled weakly.
"The frontal lobe is where our personality and emotions are located," Gabriel explained after glancing at his brother, aware Misha didn't have the necessary knowledge to understand what a tumor in that area could imply. "If it's damaged, your personality and emotions can be affected. There are cases where people's personalities did a turnabout after an accident that involved an injury to the frontal lobe. It's still a grey area in science, as few cases have been studied and reported. A tumor in that area could impact the person's personality and emotions as it grows, and it might not be life-threatening at first. But if left unchecked, it can become dangerous. And at one point, what could have been removed safely can no longer be."
Misha's brain slowly processed the information, and everything became clear in an instant. The shock drained the color from his face, rendering him livid. No wonder Gabriel and Jake were angry! Why on Earth did Tristan not tell them sooner?!
___________________
*Note: I decided to explain a bit about the private health sector in Canada, as I had a few comments last time from fellow Canadians who weren't aware that there are private clinics and hospitals in Canada. There are many clinics, but very few hospitals that operate exclusively in the private sector, as it's challenging to comply with the law. They're mostly for veterans (of course, the one in my story does not exist in reality, and I just followed the model of existing ones). One of my friends does precisely what I described when he needs medical attention unless it's an emergency. As someone who lived with diseases considered not urgent (with some that imply my head), I'm talking from experience about how slow the darn system can get if your life is not in immediate danger. The MRI took a year before I could get it (granted, it was during the pandemic, but it still took forever). Also, the health sector's rules vary slightly from province to province, as the provincial government dictates what they consider to be essential. I might not have used the right terms, and since I'm from Quebec and not Ontario, there are some differences I might not have found in my research. But anyway, the private health sector is real and a thing, and private hospitals exist. However, they cannot charge for essential services provided by their provinces.
By the way, I did meet someone who had a tumor in their frontal lobe. After it was removed, their personality did a turnabout (for the better, though). Before, they were an asshole; after, they became the sweetest person on Earth. Well, according to them and their friends! Human bodies are weird, man.