"Misha!" Tristan almost sobbed, "I'm alright already, stop fussing!"
To the child's admonishment, Misha lowered his head and pursed his lips, obviously not convinced. He looked like he was being wronged, and Tristan was at a loss for words. Not only did Misha clearly not believe him one bit, but he was also pulling the puppy-eyed card! However, it was hard to blame Misha for his stubbornness. Everyone could read him like an open book, painfully aware of what he was thinking. It seemed to be something along those lines: How could the boy be fine and dandy when he'd been discharged from the hospital only a few days ago?! How could he recover so fast after brain surgery? There was no way it was that simple!
In short, it didn't work in Misha's book, regardless of what others said, including the doctor. So what if the operation went well? It was still a brain surgery! If it were up to him, he'd have put Tristan on a restbed for half a year. Maybe a year, just to be sure. Honestly, he was afraid that some unseen wound would open inside the boy's skull because of a wrong move, and that it would start to bleed profusely until it led to permanent damage or worse yet, death.
It was a risk he didn't want to take!
Needless to say, Misha's fear was unfounded, and his understanding of the brain surgery Tristan went through was poor. Yes, the surgeon opened his skull, but no, he didn't cut through the brain tissue to remove the tumor. Given where it had been located, he didn't need to: all he had to do was push things around a bit. Of course, it wasn't something natural for a brain to experience, and it would have been better if it hadn't, but it hadn't been damaged. They had given him enough rest time for the few broken blood vessels to close, and as long as he didn't exert himself too much over the next few weeks, which was a precautionary measure, he was good to go.
Unfortunately, no matter how much Tristan tried to explain this to Misha, the young man was deaf to his words. He kept on behaving like an overprotective mother hen, barely allowing him to do anything. Even getting up to fetch a glass of water by himself was forbidden: Misha would do it for him. The boy was not allowed to move an inch from the couch, period!
"Just give up," Gabriel whispered in his little brother's ear when Misha turned around to run into the kitchen, bearing the mission to get a hold of some snacks. "He's going to calm down at some point. Be patient."
By their side, Jake nodded. He had experienced Misha's idea of caregiving a few years back, and although he felt some pity for his little brother, he also knew that Misha's attention was heartwarming for the person on the receiving end. It could get annoying at times, if not oppressive, but no one had it in them to tell him that it was enough, not when they knew that the shadow of his sister's and mother's death in the first timeline still loomed over him. They could tell that this overbearing tendency, when one of them fell ill or injured themselves, was over the top. However, they also knew why. It was always better to see Misha fluttering around than breaking down due to stress or trauma.
"Oh, by the way," Masha said, lying on the rug with her head resting on Yuki's thighs. Since her parents weren't at home, she wouldn't miss the opportunity to be lovey-dovey with the nurse. "When is our next appointment, Jake? It's been a while, no?"
A grunt was the man's answer. He had been able to avoid going to the hotel with Masha lately because Angela was too overwhelmed by her youngest son's health to care about him. But now that Tristan was out of the hospital, it would be hard to keep pushing it off. Angela wanted him to meet regularly with Gabriel's girlfriend, at least once a month. Apparently, a one-time deal wasn't enough to build up a compelling file on the 'cheating bitch' and get her under her thumb, as if the recording she had of her son and Masha wasn't enough, as well as the recording of her and Yuki. She needed more material. Right. If anything, Angela only wanted to torment the poor girl, although she was unaware that her son and Masha weren't doing anything other than strolling through their phones or working on files in the hotel room. Nothing was happening behind the closed doors. There never was, and there never would.
"Why did you have to remind me?" Jake clicked his tongue. "It's a rare day off, and I wanted to enjoy it for once."
"Then get rid of your goddamn report!" Misha clicked his tongue as he put down a basket filled with pastries on the low table. "Derek has been teaching me how to bake them at work lately. They should be good!"
"Really?" Stephan suspiciously eyed the good-smelling croissants, hesitating. "You sure you haven't put worms into them?"
"Come on, I'm not a kid anymore!"
"You never were a kid inside, as far as I know," Gabriel pointed out as he stretched a hand to take a jam doughnut, avoiding the muffins. "I still have nightmares about it from time to time."
"It's proof that my prank was memorable, no?"
"A little too much, if you ask me."
"Anyway!" Masha brought the subject back on track. "Do we still have to do it? It's been years! And it's starting to get on my nerves. I went to spend the little free time I have with Yuki, not you!"
"Because you think I want to spend mine with you?"
Masha wrinkled her nose in response. She seemed more annoyed than usual and somewhat even stressed. It cued Misha that something was amiss. In all honesty, he hadn't been paying much attention to his sister lately, with everything that had been going on. His mind had either been preoccupied by Tristan or by Gabriel, and multitasking had never been his forte. Guilt sprang in his guts at the thought. Even if they were both officially adults now, he didn't want to grow apart from his sister, like many siblings did once they reached adulthood and went on with their own lives. Thinking about it, they could barely meet as Masha was busy with her job as a security guard in a hospital, which wasn't even the hospital where Tristan had been hospitalized. She was working long-hour shifts that rarely fit with his schedule, and it was only now that he realized they mostly met like this, in a group, despite living under the same roof. Not that it was necessarily bad, but…
"Is something bothering you, Sis'?"
"What? No, nothing."
"Are you sure…?"
His sister opened her mouth only to close it without saying anything. After rewinding time, Misha had promised himself that he would never let what happened happen again and had been carefully observing his sister in this life. The discreet twitching at the corner of her eye was a clear indicator that something was bothering her. Or more accurately, that she was hiding something from him. He had learned to see the signs, and he didn't plan on letting it slide. Pushing his sister to talk wasn't something he'd call proper, but the last time he hadn't, he had found her dead in the bath. He didn't want a repeat of that. Not ever again.
"Masha," he started, crouching to pinch her cheeks and pull on the tender skin, "If you don't want me to hide anything from you, then you gotta do the same. What's been bothering you?"
"It's nothing worth worrying about," she grumbled, slapping her brother's naughty hands away before rubbing her sore cheeks. However, Misha's stubborn gaze told her he wouldn't let the matter go. She could either lie or tell the truth, and she hesitated a moment. She didn't want to bring that up, aware of the shadows that had constantly been gripping at her brother since his return to the past. But hiding it wouldn't be good, either. So, she took a deep breath and sighed, "I met Camille at the hospital a few days back, and she's kinda been following me around. It's getting annoying."
Misha froze, fury almost instantly boiling in the pit of his stomach. Just as he was about to lash out, Jake let out a scoff, drawing people's attention. He glanced coldly at Masha, who responded with an annoyed grunt. It was no wonder she had asked about the hotel meetings, then. He had thought Masha had finally let go of the matter, but it seemed like she wanted to pester him about it once again. Not like he knew much about it to begin with, anyway.
"You should stay clear of this vulture."
"I'm trying!" Masha snapped back. "I don't know what the heck happened to her, but she's not getting the memo. I told her to fuck off, yet she insists on talking to me, acting all meek and coy, and urgh! Her behavior's so disgusting, I've got goosebumps. I can't even kick her out of the hospital 'cause she's coming as a patient, and everyone's telling me to be the better adult and endure the crazy girl's sweet talk. It's not like I can scream on the rooftop that she's my ex!"
While Masha was pulling her hair out in despair, gasping in anger as she was running out of breath, Gabriel eyed his elder brother. He squinted before asking:
"Do you have any idea why she's back in the picture?"
"And why should I?"
Gabriel didn't say anything, but the look on his face spoke volumes. It was loud enough for Jake to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. Right, he hadn't really written the specifics of Masha's death in his diary. Or it'd be more accurate to say, his suspicions. He did his best to drive her away from Masha in his second life for a reason, after all, and Gabriel wasn't dumb enough to forget that little detail.