"What?" fat tears fill the brunette's eyes as the regular doctor sighs, even he was disappointed at the results. "What do you mean chemo didn't work? I spend all my money on that! You said he'd get better and now you're trying to convince me he's going to die?!" Brad hisses aggressively.
"Bradley, I am very disappointed by the results, in the past couple months of tristans' chemotherapy I came to get to know the both of you and I myself am saddened that the medicine didn't work. If you want, I can call his family but--"
"No, no. I can do it all. Just.. is this really it?" Brad gulps, biting his bottom lip while praying that this was a dream.
The doctor nods. "Tristan has about one month to live," the doctor repeats.
Brad closes his eyes, letting the tears slowly make their way down his cheeks. "But I don't want my Tristan to die," Brad whimpers, and the doctor unexpectedly stands up from his desk and hugs the small crying boy.
"I know it's unprofessional to hug you, however, I feel so bad. Tristan is a great kid, you were lucky to meet him."
"He — he can't die!" Brad stutters, before letting out all his emotions into the doctor's coat. In other words, he was crying until he ran out of tears. "He—he just can't.."
