Elements of a Selfish Desire

"Hepato....cell-" double pierced lips struggled with repeating the words he had just heard. Partially because half of one of the terms was unfamiliar, the other half was because he recognized the second word. Carcinoma.

"Hepatocellular carcinoma," Brian repeated with both the ease and disdain of someone who had said and heard the term one too many times. "It's liver cancer, Zack. I've got fucking liver cancer."

"You can't. You're too young. Maybe it's a misdiagnosis. You need a--" he sputtered out as the older man cut him off to finish his sentence.

"Second opinion? I've gotten one, along with a third and fourth. They all said the same thing. The only thing they’re not entirely sure of is how advanced it is. The consensus is somewhere between stage three and four." He said begrudgingly.

"No. I don't accept that!" The rhythm snapped out of sheer terror and disbelief. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. Right?

You were right, Zack. All along. Even Vengeance’s words were tinged with regret.

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be. I don't want these last couple years to be filled with denial and false hope."

"Couple years?!" Twice pierced lips screeched. "People can live 10 or 20 years with it! I know I’ve read that somewhere!"

"If they find out early, if they didn't have a genetic tendency, if they didn't risk drinking-- drinking accelerates it-- and hell, I've drank like a fish for damn near 20 years. Not to mention I had a genetic disposition, I blew off all the warning signs, I didn't find out early. I blew it, Zack. One chance to live and I shot it to hell. Thanks dad, Jagermeister, Jack Daniels, and Captain Morgan," a sarcastic laugh left him as he looked down to play with his hands now.

Time seemed to standstill in this moment, and it certainly wasn’t of his doing. He needed time to think, time to process. From the outside looking in, whirling around and storming away from the bed side of your best friend who just revealed he was terminally ill seemed callous, but until one was in the situation, they didn’t have a clue what they’d do. Zack had to leave. He was so charged he wanted to murder someone; angry wasn’t the word. Rageful? Definitely sounded serene to how he felt. Brian would understand his departure, or at least he would eventually. If the rhythm didn’t find a place to be alone, something bad was going to happen. He wasn’t sure what, but now that he was increasingly more aware of his power and capabilities, he knew that whatever he did out of sheer mind-blowing fury could potentially have devastating results. That was the last thing anyone needed, let alone him or Brian.

His mind raced to everything he remembered ever reading, seeing, or hearing about cancer and its life draining effects on the human body, not to mention the mind and spirit. The biggest thing that was incensing him was the fact he had somehow known all along. He had a premonition for the longest time that cancer was his opponent. He was not skilled in the art of healing, nor did he know anyone who was outside of conventional medicine. By the sounds of it, Brian was already outside of the realm where treatment could really help him.

Brian. Cancer. Terminally ill.

Those words did not belong together, and they certainly didn’t sound right in the same sentence.

Stop pacing.

He was now outside in the courtyard of the extensive hospital campus, furiously wearing a path in a small patch of grass near the fountain. To any onlookers, he probably looked deranged. In all honesty, he felt like he may be approaching that state.

Zack, you’re nauseating me.

“That makes two of us,” he grumbled lowly and lifted a hand to tear through his hair recklessly.

It mild out today and a gentle breeze washed over the city, but as the guitarist’s blood boiled, his temperature steadily climbed along with his blood pressure. He felt almost manic in the moment. He had never experienced this volume of thoughts before, let alone the increasing level of absolute calamity being unleashed in his mind. This man was his best friend! He was his musical other half! How in the world could he do life without him? Ten years ago, he couldn’t see life without Jimmy. Now the universe was set on taking another brother away from him?

His body was suddenly thrown forward from within and his arms instinctively threw themselves out to break his fall. Thankfully and painfully he landed on readied hands and not so prepared knees. A sharp groan left him as Vengeance violently stepped out into the broad daylight of the mid-morning sun.

Without warning, his other half promptly wretched forward and his mouth opened to allow a most disturbing display of neon orange bile to douse the ground between them.

“Vengeance, what the hell are you doing?” as unimpressed as he was about how unauthoritative and languid the accusation came out, he pushed himself to stand in opposition to the unsolicited appearance.

I’m not a genie in a bottle, I can come and go as I please. The vicious retort did little to help matters, but Zack never was one to be able to hide his emotions overly well.

“Not in the mood right now. What do you want?” his expression slowly soured and he began raking his tongue against his teeth in displeasure.

You rattled me like an arachnophobe shaking up a can of bug spray, you’d puke too if I did that to you.

“Ugh, I can taste that.”

Try choking on it first-hand. Now, since I’m out here, are you going to let me speak? Or would you prefer to continue standing here feeling crazy for talking to someone that does not exist to everyone else?

With a sigh, he gave the command, “Speak.” A flick of his fingers allowed their conversation to be heard only by the two of them just in case any smokers were out and about this morning.

“I know you don’t want to hear the fact that you knew it was cancer.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” he nearly snapped, but remembered their agreement. While he wasn’t 100% sure that Vengeance was on his side, he was a man of his word. And of course, there was the fact that he was the only one he really had to talk to outside of his mentor.

“We don’t have a great deal of time to lament over circumstances and bruised egos, so let’s save time. I’m ignoring the fact that you’re snippy, and you can chalk up my irritation to indigestion. Let’s also get out of the way the fact that you, as a human, can do absolutely nothing about his diagnosis.”

“You say that like I can do something about it being a hybrid,” he grumbled lowly.

“Did we lose ground over the weekend? Zack, I’m not your enemy. I’m the one who’s been helping you rediscover who you are and how to harness your capabilities, remember? I am you, you are me, and for all intents and purposes, we are one. I know that you knew deep down that it was cancer, and don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been contemplating.”

Now darkly glowing eyes of jade locked on mirrored pools of the same and he was quiet for a moment. This was true, they were one, in whatever sense.

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying to figure out what to do since I realized it, too?”

“Yeah?” he said skeptically; not necessarily in the way that he thought Vengeance didn’t try to figure out a solution, but that he was able to think of much anything at all. “And what have you come up with?”

“Same as you.” The challenge in his tone and response was clear, and he didn’t backdown.

Zack forced himself to swallow around a lump that was beginning to form in his throat. He was suddenly parched, and thought nothing of producing a bottle of water in his hand to satisfy that. It was hard for him to think about what conclusion he’d come to when contemplating what to do if when Brian confirmed he was terminally ill. It was a difficult thought to wrap his mind around, it was painful, and to be quite honest, it was completely petrifying. The fact that Vengeance’s head was in the same space was definitely not comforting.

“I can’t do that.” Was all he knew to say.

“You have to,” his projected self said firmly with a taught cross of his arms over his chest, his jaw set tightly now. “You don’t have a choice.”

“FUCK!” he thundered so loudly that the ground around them shook, and some loose rocks tumbled over by the large water fountain. If he had the presence of mind in that moment, he would have been frightened by his own power. Instead, all he could do was pant against the tightness in his chest now. Inked fingers ripped through his hair and he began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His breathing became jagged, his lungs ached, and the sheer rage and hatred coursed through his veins like it was his life’s blood now. Blood that he’d be willing to spill if it meant it could save his friend. Any way but this.