When the phone rang, Misha once again sat up too fast and hit his head against the car roof. However, he barely registered the pain and stared at Gabriel instead, the fearful but hopeful look on his face urging him to hurry up and unlock his phone, which he did in a heartbeat. Misha wasn't the only one who was impatient and wished to get this anxious feeling off his chest.
With a swift movement, Gabriel swept the screen open and proceeded to read the content of his brother's message. It didn't take long before he heaved a long sigh of relief, soon accompanied by a soft chuckle. But that wasn't enough for Misha. He needed to know everything about how the surgery went, down to the tiniest detail, and thus urgently asked:
"So? How's Tristan?"
"Well enough to write a text message and complain that you're not answering your phone."
Gabriel tried to stifle a small laugh as Misha's eyes bulged, but to no avail. However, Misha ignored him and quickly patted his pockets to find his phone. He pulled it out, only to realize its battery had died. Oh crap, did he forget to charge it last night? It might be possible. His head was all over the place lately, thanks to the lack of sleep. But that wasn't what was important right now. As if reading his mind, Gabriel spoke up and told him what he wanted to know most.
"He's saying he has convinced our mom to let you come up. Apparently, he told her he wouldn't take his medicine as long as he hadn't seen you. He's been very, very adamant about that."
"When did he become so good at throwing tantrums?" Misha laughed as he opened the door and exited the car, not waiting for anyone before sprinting toward the hospital. He didn't know Tristan's room number, but Gabriel would catch up to him soon enough. Whenever they went on a run together, Misha could never outrun the man, so he was confident he'd close up fast. Then, Gabriel could lead the way. As for his mother? Honestly, Misha didn't think about her. His mind was focused on Tristan, and everything else was tossed aside. He had always struggled with multitasking, and right now, he was too excited to pause and mull over things. All he wanted was to meet the boy right away. The rest, he could think about it later.
.
.
Because the medical staff refused to let more than two people visit Tristan at a time, Misha wasn't allowed inside at first. He had to clench his fists and resist the urge to give the nurse a piece of his mind. Making a scene certainly wouldn't help him meet with the boy. It wasn't until Angela agreed to leave and go downstairs with Gulnas to drink a cup of coffee that he was permitted to come inside. The moment he got the go-ahead, he rushed to Tristan's bed without a regard for others. He barely noticed Jake leave to allow Gabriel to come in, too.
"Tristan!" Misha cried out before almost falling head first, the sight before him startling him to the point where he lost footing. "What happened to your hair?!"
"Oh, that," the boy chuckled, seemingly amused by Misha's shocked look. "I didn't want to have a bald spot right above my forehead, so I asked them to shave everything. The location would have been too obvious, and I wouldn't have been able to hide it no matter how I styled my hair. And you know, I'm too young to have a bald spot, so shaved head it is! I rock the style, don't I?"
"Right," Misha stuttered before giving the child a thumbs-up. "You look handsome!"
The plain-as-day lie drew a laugh out of the boy. He had seen himself in the mirror, and he knew this style of hairstyle did not suit him at all. He looked somewhat gaunt, and his skull didn't exactly have a particularly pretty shape. He was a lot cuter with hair, especially since his was fluffy and curly. Well, it'd grow back in a few months. He just had to be patient until then. For now, the bandage served as a good distraction.
"Sit, sit!" Tristan patted his bed, inviting Misha to climb next to him. "I don't know if Gabriel told you, but the operation was a huge success! I admit it was a little strange to stay awake and discuss while they played in my brain, but since I've seen the whole process, I can tell you that the surgeon did his job well. My nervous system seems to be intact since I've been able to follow their directives throughout the surgery, and according to the doctor, the tumor doesn't appear to have damaged anything. I'm still in bed only because they want to keep me under observation for a few days, just in case. It's better to be cautious than sorry, as they say."
"So, there's no more tumor?"
"Yes, I'm tumor-free!"
"You really are…?"
"Misha," Tristan smiled brightly, his eyes curving into beautiful crescent-moon shapes. "Happy birthday."
Only then did the reality crash, and Misha came to accept it. The boy wouldn't change. Or at least, his personality wouldn't go through a drastic turnaround as he grew up. Puberty would, of course, still hit, but he shouldn't lose his ability to feel emotion and his empathy. All of a sudden, it was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and Misha regained the ability to breathe freely. The relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and he let himself fall on his back on the bed, his legs dangling.
Tristan was going to be alright. He wouldn't lose him.
"How are you feeling?" Gabriel asked as he pulled a chair closer to Tristan's bed, his eyes still clouded by a hint of worry.
"Incredibly well! I'm just really relieved I'd be fine and won't cause troubles for you later on," Tristan shyly answered, scratching his cheek. But before Gabriel could either reply or comfort him, or even probe further, the boy continued in a rushed manner, "And I have a birthday gift for you, Misha!"
"A gift?" Misha propped himself on his elbows, looking at Tristan with uncertainty. "The only gift I needed was a successful surgery."
"Are you sure?" The boy's smile grew mischievous as he rummaged through a bag by his side. He took out two tickets and handed them to Misha before beckoning Gabriel to come closer, which his brother obediently did. A moment later, Tristan stuck a bow atop his head, proudly puffing out his chest as he stared at his artwork. "Ta-da! It's a weekend-long vacation for two at an inn with a spa and a panorama of relaxing things to do. Grab Gabriel, go there tonight, and spend a wonderful weekend. You both need to rest, and I think some alone time will do you good. And don't worry! Stephan has already given his permission. He said not to come back to work until those horrible dark circles are gone, or you'll scare the customers."
Misha was stunned, frozen in place as he looked at the tickets in his hands. Too many things were happening at the same time. And his brain struggled to process the events.
"But, you…"
"Don't you dare!" Tristan cut him short, and Misha was so startled by the firm tone that his whole body stiffened. "I'm fine now, and I don't want you to spend your whole birthday at my bedside. If you do, it'll make me feel guilty, you know? I already feel bad enough for putting you through so many emotions; I want you to at least get something out of the few hours left. It's your special day, not mine. And we both know how long you've been waiting for it, so don't waste it."
Not knowing how to respond, Misha blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, still trying to delay, "I don't know what excuse to give to my mom, though…?"
"You don't?" Gabriel laughed softly, replacing the bow on his head that had started to slide off to the side, threatening to fall. He had already figured out his role in his little brother's gift. "I'm sure Vanessa will be more than willing to cover for you if you tell her you're going to spend the weekend with me. It's your eighteenth birthday, and it wouldn't be strange for you to go out with your friends and get wasted. You just need to cross the border to Quebec, and you can drink your ass off. It's only an hour and a half's ride, and since you'll need someone to be your driver, it gives us the perfect excuse for me to accompany you since Masha is working all weekend. It'd also reassure your mother."
Moreover, both Dereck and Vanessa had their birthdays earlier in the year, and they were thus already adults and could accompany Misha on a drunken quest in Quebec. Partying in bars wasn't yet something they could do in Ontario, as the legal age was nineteen, one year more than in Quebec. Vanessa had been whining about how unfair that was, making her the perfect accomplice. Gulnas had even hinted to them that taking advantage of their proximity to Quebec to make the most of Misha's eighteenth birthday wouldn't be such a bad idea. It was better to do stupid stuff when young rather than old. Or so she said.
"But there's one thing I'm curious about," Gabriel cocked an eyebrow, staring at his little brother with a knowing gaze as he let Misha mull over the idea, although he already knew what the answer would be. "How did you get the money to buy these?"
"I don't have any money, but Jake has," Tristan shrugged. "I forgot to say that it's a gift from both Jake and me. But I'm the one who did the research, called places, and made the reservation!"
Searching for the ideal gift had been the perfect distraction, keeping him from depressing thoughts. It had also been fun to share his thoughts with Jake and exchange ideas. Before Misha's birthday, Tristan could never have guessed how thrilling it could be to prepare a gift. He only hoped Misha would be as excited to receive his present. However, Misha was still wearing the face of a lost child, and Tristan began to feel nervous.
"You don't like it…?"
"No, it's not that," Misha shook his head. "I'm just overwhelmed. I'm still trying to sort out my emotions. You know, I was so afraid to lose you today that now that everything is resolving itself toward a happy ending, I don't know what to do. Too many good things are happening at once, and it honestly feels a little scary. Can my birthday really be this perfect…? I'm not dreaming, am I?"
As an answer, Gabriel bent over and pinched Misha's cheek hard.
"Does that hurt?"
"Yes, yes, it hurts! Gosh, I get it, I'm not dreaming!" Misha rubbed his painful cheek, resentfully glaring at Gabriel before focusing his attention back on Tristan. He chuckled as he gently stroked the tickets with his thumb, "You know me well, don't you? I really wanted to spend some, well, some quality time with Gabriel for my birthday."
"I don't think I can take all the credit. It was written all over your face these past few weeks," Tristan smiled teasingly, while Gabriel averted his eyes, refusing to meet Misha's troubled gaze. Don't tell him… Could it have been unconscious? Did Misha genuinely not know how he had been looking at him all this time…? If that were the case, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.