A Stepbrothers Desire

This is a work of fiction - names and places are elements of fiction.

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A Stepbrother's Desire - Josh and Tyson 80

When you top a top like Josh, he doesn't give you a lot of demands about how he wants things. He expects you to bring it to him, to give him what you want, what he deserves. He is such an immaculate lover, he throws himself into the "role" so to speak. He follows your lead, bending and stretching his body to your will. I love how he does this. Yes, I'm the smaller guy but I feel like a man, his man, when I'm going to love him. The way he kisses, he pulls you into him rather than putting himself on you. His eyes are softer than when he tops. He might smile. After stroking me to a full hardon, he sucks me. Only Josh knows how to suck my dick. Tristan has done a good job as both know I don't like a messy, sloppy blow, with gagging and what not. Just clamp down on me and give a gentle motion. I will get so close to cumming I think I might pop. I lift Josh's legs. He can't lift and spread like I do, he's not as limber. I push his legs straight back and I dive into his ass. He will be wet when I'm finished eating him. I enter him and he will put his arms around me. His legs will close in on my sides. I will leave that part of me inside him he asked for. That bit of my soul.

The Gala was going to be stunning. Julia and Perry arrived first, taking the train from the airport to our condo. Josh and I literally waited at the lobby door for them. Perry was dragging a big suitcase in one hand and Julia in the other, pulling both across the road. Perry threw himself into Josh's arms and Julia fell into mine. From what I could tell, they were a match made in heaven. Upstairs, Perry and Josh fell into deep conversation over drinks in the kitchen. Julia and I had drinks on the balcony.

"Julia, I can't believe you're here. I'm so glad. I know Bryce will be ecstatic to see you." She smiled but then frowned.

"I'm so homesick sometimes. You know?" she said, quietly.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing's wrong but it's just not exactly what I had in mind. We bounce from city to city while he does these big gigs. I don't have much to do. I miss my family and well, the family life."

"I can probably understand that but it's the way his life is going to be until he settles down with one orchestra," I offered.

"I know and don't get me wrong. I love Perry, I mean deeply. He is the absolute best man. But Ty, I had hoped for a nice house, friends, clubs, a job. I have nothing, except him."

"Have you considered taking a break? Maybe coming home for a while?"

"I have but not just yet. We are going to be in Dallas for a few weeks then off to Toronto. After the first of the year, I will think on it some more."

"Do what you need to do, Julia. You are young and you need to get certain things done that, you know, young people do."

"I know that's right," she said with a giggle.

"How is Tristan? I'm so worried..." and the door burst open and there stood Bryce Chatley, in his "man of the hour" fashion.

"Bryce!" I yelled in surprise.

"Bryce," Julia whispered. With a whimper, she plunged her face into his chest. I smiled and didn't interrupt the moment.

It was early afternoon but we had to get ready. Josh would drive Julia and Perry over to the apartment over the store and return. Bryce was settling into our guest room. We would meet Tristan at the event. There was no getting in his way today.

Dressed in our tuxedos, we met the limo out front and rode together to the Capital Club where the Ball Room awaited us. The line of cars was impressive. For those who were not aware of the event, I'm sure they were wondering what spectacular thing was going on.

The room was astonishing. Red and green and gold trim, tables with beautiful bouquets of flowers. A stage and runway though the middle for the fashion display. Bars on each end of the room. And Tristan standing there, like a regal statute. But not for long because he was engulfed by Bryce, Julia, Perry. My parents came through the door. Mom was dressed in a gorgeous dark green gown, her slightly graying hair pulled back in a long ponytail. If she had to grow old, she would do so as graciously as possible. Mayor Bartley entered with her husband. A long line of people entered and marveled at the ambience. Dresses and tuxedos filled the room. From there, I didn't know who was who. I just knew that drinks were in order.

Tristan followed me to the bar.

"You ready babe?" I asked, ordering champagne for us all, except for Tristan. He was not taking alcohol.

He nodded but couldn't say much. "I hope it's the night of all nights, Ty. Thank you for your help."

"You don't thank me. You just tell me where you need me next!" I said.

"Don't worry about that!" he laughed. I couldn't help but notice that he was wearing some light make up and I knew he was trying to cover the diminished pigmentation in his skin. The products suggested by the Spa had helped but not really. Still, he was amazing in his black tux and burgundy bow tie and I forgot to ask him about the gold studs he had in his shirt.

I had just started a conversation with Bryce when I was hugely surprised to be tapped on the shoulder by Cassandra Farmer, Josh's executive assistant from his office. I was really surprised.

"C-C-Cassandra," I stammered. She was usually so evil and saber-toothed, I didn't feel this was the night to endure her wrath. "How are you? I'm very surpr..."

"Surprised, I know!" she barked with a laugh. "Cappy and I bought tickets. Yep, he and I came together.. I just had to. I know you all think I'm a total bitch and I don't care if you do. But Ty, what you all are involved with, it's important. Really," she said, swinging her long curly hard over her shoulder.

"Well, thanks. I appreciate you saying that. Josh and I just volunteer but it's Tristan's baby."

"I know, and he's another amazing little fucker. You know he prances by my desk like I'm not even there! I mean you think I could strike some fear in him?" I laughed.

"While I stumble by it in terrible fear!" and she cracked up laughing. She took me by the arm and we walked to the bar.

"Cosmo, please!" she requested of the waiter. "Ty, I'm not going to get into this but I need you to know." She leaned in very close to my ear. "I lost my stepbrother because of shitty parents. Like, I carry that fucking grief on my shoulder. And you all, well, I wish..."

"What do you mean, you lost?"

"He's no longer with us and that was his choice." I was stunned.

"Cassandra, why didn't I know that before? I am so sorry!"

"It was a few years ago and I have moved on. But the more I see and hear about what goes on and how that agency is helping these boys, the more I feel inclined...I want to help. I know I act like a bitch but that's an act, Ty. I need to get involved. How do I..."

"Let's talk about that next week. Drinks or dinner. Does Josh know?"

"Absolutely not. I would never tell something like that in the office."

"It may be time for you to do so," I said.

I had a lot of meandering to do but finally caught up with Josh and Perry. We were at a table with our parents and Bryce. The fashion show breezed through with fashions presented by Macy's, Neiman Marcus, and Fitzhugh Boutique. Josh and I had to slip out so that we could do our "old/young" theme, as if we were really old. Tristan arranged this so that we would have some stage time. I knew his game. I had a cute fellow with blonde hair, Tristan was paired with Mason and Josh had the little one. The little one was a skinny, pale boy, named Elijah, who Josh had the soft spot for. His mother had "rented" him out a few times to some men to make money for her drug habit. When she overdosed and died, he had no place to go. And this is the kind of shit that goes on out there. He was a good student and very lively, but subject to bullies. In fact, one boy at the agency was seriously called down for doing just that. Josh gave him a death stare one night at the Thursday dinner that I'm sure set him on edge.

I don't think it was just that Josh was attracted to the fairer boys like me. I think he felt like he had a responsibility to use his strength and maturity to protect them. They did the cutest routine with a spin at the end and everyone applauded. Well, all three of us got standing ovations.

The tables were cleared after dinner and they disappeared very quickly. I was impressed how things ran. Josh and I got cornered by Mayor Bartley who was aggravated that she hadn't gotten time with Tristan but he was a man in motion. She desperately wanted to talk "shop" with him because she was considering him for a committee role in her administration.

"No catching up with him tonight," I told her. "But, Mayor Bartley, a certain skirt has come in to my downtown store and somehow it reminded me of you. Perhaps you ought to stop by," and I gave her a wink.

"Is it really nice?" she asked in a curious whisper.

"Yes ma'am. Its very "one of a kind," I told her. She raised her eyebrows in excitement.

"Perhaps this week, I'll find a late lunch," and she breezed away with a commissioner from the police department in tow. The truth was, in my pursuit for the perfect vintage Versace collection, I came across the skirt and she will love it. I'm not using any women's fashions for the collection but I can fetch a good price for it. In the meantime, she's good and distracted now.

Then, Josh, Perry, and I caught up with Tristan, who was at the bar drinking a tomato juice.

"Tomato juice?" asked Bryce.

"Yes, it's quite delicious you goof!" barked Tristan.

"Growwwwl," said Bryce and he put an arm around Tristan. "You drink whatever you want, stud. I have never attended anything so fabulous as tonight!"

"Thanks, Bryce. I appreciate you coming, despite the cost of the tickets," Tristan said with a smile.

"Thank mom and dad for that! And speaking of, I saw your parents. They were pretty chatty with me."

"Yeah, they said they really wanted to come, to learn what it was all about. I was flattered." I just continued listening but knew I was about to drag Tristan off to get ready for his presentation song. If tonight went like practice yesterday, he was in great voice. Everybody was going to be thrilled until a very familiar voice spoke from the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen," quipped a light voice with a french accent. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention!" the voice said more firmly and I turned to the stage and saw Marcue Marcel standing there, dressed in a tux of his own.

"What's he doing up there?" I asked.

"Ty, is there something going on?" asked Josh.

"I don't know!" I said in desperation.

"Ladies and gentleman, I present to you the Metro Boys Choir! And the curtain opened and there stood none other than the twelve boys from Hills and Dales!

"What the!"

"Shh" said Tristan. "I'm interested!" Marcue sat down to the grand piano and laid into the first chords. Mason started it.

"I close my eyes and I can see, the world that's waiting up for me, that I call my own."

Everyone applauded.

"How did they do this without me? What were they thinking?" I asked.

"Quiet, Ty," said Tristan. Josh came over and stood by me.

The second boy started, "Through the dark, through the door, through where no one's been before, but it feels like home.

Then all of them, "They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy. They can say, they can say I've lost my mind. I don't care, I don't care, so call me crazy. We can live in a world that we design!" The harmony was good. Their tone was very exceptional. Tristan didn't move. In fact, the whole ballroom was a stand still. No drinks were pouring at the bars. The waiters were still. Mayor Bartley stood with an empty glass in her hand and her mouth was open and unmoving. Senators and politicians were poised, as if the entertainment were for them directly.

"Cause every night I lie in bed, The brightest colors fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake, I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see, a million dreams is all it's gonna take. Oh a million dreams for the world we're gonna make."

Tristan's mother slipped behind him and he leaned back against her as she put her arms around him. It made me feel warm inside. Mom and dad came to Josh and me. Our whole group seemed to huddle so close. Honestly, as water streamed down my face, I thought those days were gone, left behind by a bunch of high school kids. And here, as grown up, as friends all in love with each other, watching these kids stand up there so bravely... I looked at Josh and my dad.

"The circle of life," whispered Bill.

"There's a house we can build, every room inside is filled, with things from far away."

Another soloboy, "The special things I compile, each one there to make you smile, on a rainy day!"

The full choir, "They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy. They can say, they can say I've lost my mind. I don't care, I don't care, so call me crazy. We can live in a world that we design!"

That song ended with "For the world we're gonna make!" and their fists were raised high and Marcue stood from the piano and the crowd in the ballroom roared and clapped. A lot of things happened instantly.

"Damn! They just branded themselves!" barked Josh. "They just created a brand! Look at the numbers!" and the donation dashboard was climbing. They were going over the goal tonight thanks to that little performance.

Tristan broke away and started forward.

"Tristan, what about your song?" I screamed.

"Forget it! I'm not competing with that!" he responded pointing to the boys.

"Tristan! Oh Tristan!" shouted the Mayor making a run for him. He put up a hand toward her to stop her attack causing Josh and Mom to crack up laughing, doubtful that had happened to Mayor Bartley before. Tristan walked up onto the stage and fell into the boys. They reached for him, they put hands on him. They all clung to each other.

"Good heavens," said Mom. "That's as good as it gets," she said quietly. She looked at Josh and me, and Mrs. Lane was standing there. "This is far more involved that I could have known," she said. "Tristan has definitely raised the bar."

"Imagine how his father and I feel. Rather slight, comparatively speaking," said Mrs. Lane.

"Ladies and gentlemen," announced Tristan into the microphone. Everyone got quiet. "I had a song prepared for you but you can bet it ran off when it heard these guys!" and everyone applauded again. "I want to welcome to you my world, where you and I just got the surprise of our lives but a great way to introduce you to the amazing things these kids are capable of, in a world where dreams..." and he choked. Josh started toward the front. Bryce and I followed.

Tristan took some deep breaths and I knew he was short on air. I could feel it in him. "Metrics are hard to substantiate. Is a dozen boys enough to say we have a problem? Would we be more deserving of your contributions if there were twenty? Do percentages increasing or decreasing guide us to understand what progress looks like? I don't know how to convey in good detail what we've created in a short period of time but I want to see, want us all to see, an organization that is ready for what's to come!" More applause.

"We have partnered with Fit, a youth organization who brings sports, athletics and exercise to kids separated from usual environments. We have partnered with Spirit who brings music and art. Our own Marcue Marcel from the French Embassy was supposed to teach a "little" music and instead has created a boys choir that will be wholly in demand through Easter I suspect!" Applause. "And now we are considering a venture with Youth in Flight, led by a well known leader in our community, Mr. Jimmy Frazier."

Something clicked in me. I looked at Josh and he nodded. So that's why Jimmy was here. He has a similar organization outside the city and he and Tristan are planning, what? A merger?

"Ladies and gentlemen, this work does not come cheap but the results...you cannot put a price tag on these kid's happiness and success BUT that's the world I intend to make," and he set the microphone down and turned to the boys and nodded. I might never forget that sight for as long as I live. I was about to choke on my own tongue while Josh and Bryce were glassy-eyed to say the least.

Coming home at 2 am was much later than Josh and I were used to. Bryce slid off to the guest room quietly as none of us could communicate on what a night we had just experienced. Josh had talked with Tristan and if other fundraisers did like tonight, the agency would become self-funded, meaning, Tristan's tax shelter would be broken and another endeavor would have to be created. Well, it would be a long time before that but Josh was intent on monitoring the situation. Tristan had done what few trusts had. He had created a financial opportunity to reduce taxes but had created a world of good that would easily give him a role and prestige all at the same time. It was a marvel.

I crawled into the bed, and cuddled into Josh's arm.

"Was that amazing or am I dreaming?"

"Never experienced anything like it," Josh said. "But on top of it, I was so glad some of our friends were here. I didn't realize how much I missed them," he said.

"Perry?" I said.

"And Bryce. I'm worried about him. Why is he still alone?"

"I know what you mean but he has to fix this himself. He needs to draw a line in the sand!" I said. "And Cassandra!" I barked.

"Ok, that is another story, one that she and I are going to discuss next week. How dare she leave out the important stuff and stick us with that brazen attitude!" Josh laughed.

"And Marcue is going to catch his share of Hell," I replied. "He did all that with the guys and didn't tell me?"

"I suspect your little boy-crush did that for you as much as they did for Tristan. Don't be too hard on him. He's rather good on the piano!" Josh said.

The next day, we met for Brunch at Nico's Bistro. I had been dying for Nico's breakfast which was an amazing place. Reservations were required weeks in advance. Bryce, Perry, and Julia were meeting Tristan, Josh, and me. All of us had arrived and were seated when I asked where Tristan was.

"Text him," said Josh.

"I did earlier," I said.

"Call him!" I dialed Tristan's number and it went to voicemail. I shrugged my shoulders. Josh froze. "I'll go," I said. I left the restaurant and hopped the train over to Tristan's. I let myself into the lobby and rode the elevator up. I knocked on Tristan's door and he didn't answer. I presumed he went home the night before but he may have gone back to his parent's hotel. He was with his parents when we left. I let myself in.

"Tristan," I whispered. There was no answer. I became afraid. "Trisan!" I said louder. With no response came the beating of my heart. "Oh dear God," I said to myself. I wandered back to his bedroom and was surprised to see him lying there on the bed, still in his tux pants and shirt which was unbuttoned, not moving.

"Tristan," I said.

"What?"

"Why didn't you answer me? What are you doing?" He shook his head as if leaving a trance.

"Ty! What are you doing here?" he said in a surprised but more vibrant voice.

"You didn't come to brunch, you didn't text and you didn't answer my call!" I snapped. "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry," he said and he rolled onto his side, away from me. I sat on the bed.

"Tristan, what's the matter? Do you feel sick?" I put my hand on his side. He didn't seem to be struggling. His body began to quiver. He started to cry.

"Oh Tristan," I whined, crawling in beside him. "Don't cry. It was a perfect night. Everything you imagined," I whispered.

"I know," and with sobs and violent trembles, "and one I will not live to see again!" and his body tightened into a ball. My heart burst.

"You've been lying here all night thinking like that? Seriously? You can't think like that." I tightened my arms around him for a minute as he cried. Then I got up and he asked where I was going. I took my clothes off then I laid him flat and took his pants and shirt off. He just lay there as if he were helpless.

"Where did you get these studs?" I asked, laying them carefully on the dresser.

"They were my granddad's. 14 carat gold," he said. "I was afraid I would never get to wear them."

"Oh you wore them last night," I laughed. "Stunning, just like you," I said. When he was undressed I crawled into the bed. He tried to roll away from me again and this time I pulled him to me. I got my arm under him and pulled him to my side. He put his head on my shoulder as his sobs died away.

"Sleep, baby. You need to rest." I began to sing, "Every night I lie in bed, the brightest colors fill my head, a million dreams are keeping me awake..." My own body began to tremble as I fought to keep away my own tears. I felt his breathing relax and a hiss escape his lips. He was asleep, and I couldn't imagine how exhausted he must've been. I couldn't process this thought, the notion that he would not be around for another gala. This was not a place I could get to voluntarily. There are monsters on TV, there are terrible people in real life, situations that would defy the human mind's ability to comprehend. Losing Tristan, yeah, not a place I dared to go. And those thoughts crept into my mind. Why him? Why not me? Why not one of those bad people? Why him! If he had needed a transfusion or a donated kidney or something, I would be the first in line to offer even if I was not a match. If there was one thing or stroke or spell or curse, anything I could do, I would've done it. Instead he got something so terrible nobody could do much at all. What fucking luck is that? I looked upward, wondering if there was a heave up there? Let somebody do a bit of good and you strike them down.

Josh had warned me to stay away from this. It was a dangerous place with no answers, no exits, and no sanity.

Christmas passed quietly. Josh and I took a few days and visited the parents then we stayed through New Year's at a cabin in the mountains. It was a getaway that we needed. We traveled the river and climbed a small mountain. Well that mountain thought it was something until I climbed on top of Josh. Not sure the mountain had witnessed that before. And it was cold to boot! Tristan stayed behind despite Josh's wishes that he come with us. He had a Christmas party for the boys which Marcue was intent on helping with since there wasn't much for him at the Embassy except Christmas parties with the Embassy staff.

January was a tough month. First, Josh was in a car accident. It scared me but he was ok. His driver was sideswiped by a transfer trailer truck on the interstate on the way to a meeting. The vehicle overturned but Josh only got some cuts and bruises and a distinct but cool black eye. Mom, in her mayoral role, had a tough time with the waste management union. It seems that the efforts agreed to by her predecessor came back to haunt them when the director of waste management held a press conference without Mom's approval stating that waste management was presenting certain requests to the administration and that a possible strike was looming.

She was furious and at another press conference, she indicated that the city was not going to be held hostage with garbage piled up on the streets and that the streets would be clean and the trash would be picked up. Then things elevated when she hinted that she had contacted the governor and was willing to bring in a third party agency to pick up the trash. Then, in a press conference someone in the crowd threw an empty soup can at her, clipping her in the head, with her security throwing himself across the stage, knocking over the podium. She sustained a small cut but she was ok and very upset by the whole event.

I sat by Josh at the kitchen bar having a glass of wine.

"I'm sorry, Josh."

"She didn't deserve that," he said, looking into the deep red color of the wine. "You know she went back to her office and probably cried."

"She ran for the job, Josh. Things happen and she accepts that. She will bounce back. I'm certain of it."

"Still, Ty," he said with a whimper, "that's my mom." I knew instantly what he was feeling. They're just politicians when they are on the stage. People would call her names like bitch and cunt because she was a strong woman in power. But in reality, she was the lady the other ladies leaned on for support and advice. She was a mother to two sons for whom she made grilled cheese sandwiches on snow days and who had to keep their distance because of the life they live together. She loved her husband and was good to him. She was, all in all, human.

Tristan worked to coordinate the merger of agencies but he was running out of steam. I was keeping my eye on my stores and had to let Josh work with him on the business move. The finances made sense because they didn't have the kind of funding or fundraising capability Hills and Dales had and Tristan's foundation would be able to supplement along with the fundraising opportunities. The merged organization would be called "We Found YOUth." Dr. Riley would continue to head up the psychological and behavioral teams while Jimmy's team would lead education and social fitness. A larger building was under renovation to house up to forty teens. I was terrified Tristan had taken too much on but he was like a bulldozer, until the day...that day came.

We all found ourselves sitting by his hospital bed. He was out of oxygen, his blood count was low, kidneys were threatening to shut down. His heart was skipping beats. I didn't know what was to come and I was afraid. A doctor, a young man, absolutely gorgeous with a fit body and thick black hair came into Tristan's room and did an examination. He conducted light conversation but checked a number of pressure points on Tristan's body, vitals, lifted arms and legs. He made me nervous.

"Sorry Doctor, we are not familiar with you," said Josh in a friendly tone.

"You will be, I promise you. You will know me better soon enough!" he quipped and stormed out of the room.

"I know who he is," Tristan stuttered. "He was promised to me a week ago. Whatever he wants, Josh, give it to him," and Tristan went back to sleep.

"I don't know what that's all about but it better not be some witch doctor shit!" Josh hissed.

The next day, they had Tristan and Josh come to the Oncology department. They rolled Tristan in a wheelchair. Josh asked if I could be present and the doctors agreed as they had to adhere to HIPPA rules.

"So, Mr. Lane. Things are a bit rough," the doctor said. The new doctor, the good looking one, sat and smiled. He was pissing me off as the smug look was disconcerting.

"Yeah," Tristan said. "I guess it is. Did Dr. Kimball find what he was looking for?" Tristan asked.

"Do you know what's going on, Tristan?" asked Josh. Tristan nodded. "Why haven't I heard about this before?" Josh demanded.

"Because Josh!" Tristan shouted. "This is a decision I have to make and I needed to be sold on it before I sold it to you!" I flinched at the level of aggression Tristan displayed. So did Josh. He looked so shocked I had to laugh.

"He is correct," said Dr. Kareem. "As you are aware, Doctor Kimball has specialized in a rare treatment that addresses the lifeform or certain tumors. One of the problems we have had treating this tumor is that it has had a life of its own. It has taken your veins, your blood, has attached itself like a host, grown and developed. We could not remove it because it wouldn't be a tumor to just let go. Dr, Kimball, why don't you proceed?" suggested Dr. Kareem. Josh was trembling just a bit. I was curious.

"We have the ability to kill it, maybe only put the thing to sleep. If it responds in a desired manner, it would more than likely lessen its hold on your organs. We would then go in and remove it," he said, crossing his arms in a satisfactory manner.

Tristan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Like removing an alien," he said with a mild attempt at humor.

"Very much so," said Dr. Kimball in a low growl.

"The risks?" asked Josh.

"Ah yes, the lawyer, the risk manager," replied Dr. Kimball.

"His friend!" I barked.

"Yes, I understand more than you know. I am fully aware of the care and attention you give Tristan. I am fully aware of the life he leads and of how many people are relying on him for good lives. When I read his story, I couldn't get here fast enough so believe me when I tell you, I want to save him." I bit my lip as I now wanted to hug this doctor. I would definitely suck his cock if he would save Tristan. Just save him and I would do anything! Josh gave me a squinted-eye look and he was reading my mind. "Bastard!" I thought. I can't even get away with a sleazy thought.

"The greatest risk, as is the case in most surgeries, especially one where the candidate is as weak as Tristan, is putting him to sleep. It's that simple. We can accomplish most anything in a live environment but once we put someone under anesthesia, we lose certain control. In this instance, I'm looking at a very brief time to insert the needle and pump"the juice" into that tumor. If the juice works, I would need a more substantial time to perform the surgical removal. While he is asleep, his vitals will be highly compromised. Most of these risks are manageable. There is that little percentage everyone has to be aware of and, of course, accept."

"Basically," interrupted Dr. Kareem, "our team would be on standby for the immediate disposition of the tumor once our reports are conclusive that the tumor died or went dormant. I'm comfortable with the situation," said Dr. Kareem.

"I am too," said Tristan.

"But Tristan," said Josh.

"It's my last option, Josh! What do you suggest I do?" and Josh became very quiet.

"Please forgive, Mr. Warner. Tristan's determination is unmatched compared to previous candidates. And I will say, with a certain degree of regret, his options are few if any." replied Dr. Kimball.

"Success rates?" asked Josh.

"Eighty-two percent," said Dr. Kimball. "We have successfully removed two smaller tumors in other individuals and a significant portion of a third. That was a different kind of tumor and it was on the brain. We have a chest cavity to work with here which broadens our opportunity for success."

"Failure?" asked Josh.

"The only failure would be for the tumor not to respond to the injection. That being the case, there would be no surgery. The potential for Tristan to, well, expire during surgery is slightly higher than someone otherwise healthy. He would be closely monitored and remember, this is not a surgery for repair. It's a removal requiring much less time."

Neither Josh nor I slept a wink that night. We googled everything under the sun not finding much on the subject but lots on Dr. Kimball. Tristan slept like a baby. Josh had to accept that while he did hold power of attorney which would become executorship if Tristan passed, Tristan was deemed fit to make his own decisions and this was his to make.

And thus the process began. Three days later, Tristan went in and experienced the terrible pain of having a long needle inserted into his body which would remain in place for more than 15 minutes. He was not put to sleep for this as he agreed to take the brunt of it awake.

Josh and I paced the halls, acting like it was taking forever. After lunch, Dr. Kimball came out to us and informed us the procedure was completed. We needed to go home and rest. It would be until the next day before they had results.

Tristan's parents and our parents came up and we went to dinner. Tristan had advised his parents to hang back until the operation was decided upon. The injection was the easy part. We didn't want to talk about how painful that must've been but the doctor had eluded to us that Tristan was a "shark in the water" and his determination, again, was unmatched. Still, at my last glance of Tristan, he looked so small, so colorless, like a young, unfed boy. I prayed to a God that I wasn't sure wanted to hear from me.

We all waited in the waiting room of the hospital the next day. Josh and Dr. Lane chatted politely while Mrs. Lane held my hand. Mom had to get back home because having resolved the waste management crisis, was on a packed agenda with school board elections approaching. She hugged Josh and me so tightly and we knew she was with us in spirit. Mayor Bartley had texted me three times. I told her she would be the first to hear when I heard. The boys at the agency were, according to Dr. Riley, the quietest and on the best behavior he had ever witnessed. Josh had Perry and Bryce pestering him. I had offered to set up Command Central and run the communications but Josh told me that was a bad idea if things didn't go as intended.

Just before lunch, and just before I almost fainted from hunger, Dr. Kimball walked into the waiting room with Dr. Kareem behind him. He greeted each one of us personally, shook our hands, smiled at us. Then he took a step back and announced, "the witch is dead!" and I almost had a bowel movement in my pants thinking he was referring to Tristan!

"The tumor, that is," causing me to let out a deep breath. "The tumor has responded as we hoped. It is dying a slow death and that puts us in a certain place," said Dr. Kimball.

"As the tumor dies, it has the ability to become toxic," clarified Dr. Kareem. "Time is of the essence so we will begin surgical prep immediately."

"Consider this the best news!" said Dr. Kimball. "Now go home. We won't be finished with this until late into the night."

"Can we see him?" I asked.

"No, he is in a germ free environment being provided ample oxygen and hydration. This surgery will be completed with the utmost caution," and Dr. Kimball shook our hands again and stormed away.

"Doctors!" I said, causing Dr. and Mrs. Lane to laugh. I think we all felt a bit of stress relief. I sent a general text to everyone in the "need to know" list that simply said, "Death to the tumor! Surgery underway!"

I would learn later how many people would freeze in their place where they stood, the boys that would "high-five" each other, Julia would drop a tear, Mayor Bartley who would shout "God be praised!" in the middle of a cabinet meeting. Even my father my let out an audible sigh of relief as he knows, always knew, what my friendship with Tristan was made of. My father had reached out to me on a very quiet note and I never talked about it to anyone because he was concerned for me. He knew that losing my mother at an early age, then losing Gigi, who had been a primary support to me all of my life, and the possibility of losing Tristan, my dearest friend, coupled with my emotional tendencies, he wanted to be sure I "kept feet to the ground and eyes ahead." I appreciated his effort, very much so. But with this, it was what it was and I would do what I was capable of doing which was dangerous. Either forge ahead or get stuck in the ditch.

Josh and I, being unable to sleep, and being delirious in exhaustion, experienced one of the better fucks we had had in a while. The bit of energy I found thinking of Tristan being a strong, fit, brilliant guy again caused me to shoot clean over Josh's head and onto a painting that hung over the sofa.

"Can we leave that for memory sakes?" I asked Josh.

"Absolutely!" he screamed in laughter.

We were dressed and pressed and headed to the hospital the next morning. It was again before lunch when Dr. Kareen invited us and Tristan's parents to a conference room. Dr. Kimball sat quietly as we entered.

"Friends," said Dr. Kareem and my heart began to sink. This was not a good way to start what was supposed to be a joyous conversation.

"As you are aware, Tristan's tumor responded as we hoped and began to die away shortly after receiving the radiation chemical. Also, you are aware the tumor started its retreat giving us the indication that surgery was likely and necessary."

"But?" shouted Josh.

"Tristan's body, while fit for the procedure, has pulled back all of its resources as a response to the surgery. He is now in a coma," and he left that hanging in the air.

"A coma?" said Dr. Lane.

"Vegetable?" asked Mrs. Lane. Dr. Lane looked at her with animosity.

"No, he is simply in a coma, meaning he is not cognizant of his surroundings. A coma may be a short term response or a long term one. We do not know at this point. We can tell you..."

"I can tell you," said Dr. Kimball, "Tristan is cancer free. We got it out of him. All we need for him to do is to wake up and that is totally up to him. There's nothing we can do until he's ready."

Josh and I looked at each other.

"What now?" I asked.

"I guess we're in a waiting game," he said as he bent his head forward and pinched his eyes, which would appear overly dramatic but everyone must remember, this isn't just my friend. Josh has cared about him like nobody else and he's a son to these people. I would have to be tolerant of letting other people express their feelings and grief. Josh would remind me, at home and in private, that this is not over. Tristan is not done. Yet.

Text from Marcue. "How is the news from Mr Tristan". I sighed not knowing how to answer.