Experimental

**Before I post what little of my story I've written, I just want to make it clear that I came on here for criticism. If you feel there is something I should change, or a spelling/ grammar error, whatever, anything you think I can improve on- please, please tell me. thanks :)



Prologue:         

His brother was all he had, his mom was dead, his dad- gone. But his brother had changed. After an experimental surgery gone...weird*, his brother is no longer human- he's a weapon. No emotion, no memory, no mind of his own. Now Oliver has to find a way to get him back...but how? Oliver has to get rid of the doctor before he can even get close to his brother, the only thing he has left. Along the way he meets Eliza, a girl his age that was in the exact same boat. Her older sister/brother fell victim to the same doctor that changed Jason. There was only one difference, Eliza killed her sister/brother in order to protect the rest of the townspeople. Now she's encouraging Oliver to do the same, but can he?

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Oliver sat on a cold metal chair, twiddling his thumbs nervously in his lap. He had refused to sit in the waiting room, and after much arguing, was placed in a small observation room that looked into the O.R. He saw the doctor, the main surgeon, look up at him. The doctor's face immediately went red with rage and Oliver watched as he screamed at his assistants, gesturing wildly at the window. The other's looked down, their cheeks pink with embarrassment. Oliver couldn't hear what they were saying, why the doctor was so mad, but he understood when one of the minor surgeons pulled a dark curtain across the window blocking his view.

Oliver was too worried to be angry, too scared to protest. He returned his gaze to his fast-moving thumbs, stopping once in a while to wipe the tears from his eyes. He repeated his brother's words over and over in his head,

"I'll be fine." He'd said, "I'll be fine."

         The hours were long and agonizing. The doctor finally came to get him, but Oliver was a sputtering mess. The doctor had rested his strong hand on his shoulder, claiming that his brother's surgery had been a complete success, and that he could go home that same day. Still, Oliver couldn't choke out a word. It seemed unusual, a patient being released so soon after surgery, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want them to keep his brother there any longer than necessary, he was all he had left and he wasn't ready to lose him.

         The doctor left his hand on Oliver's shoulder and gently directed him to the recovery room where his brother lay, already awake. Again, it seemed wrong. Shouldn't he still be asleep? Unconscious? That wasn't the only thing that troubled Oliver; it looked as if his brother's eyes had turned silver, when they were once a very pale blue. All worries were wiped away, though, when a familiar grin spread across his brother's face. Oliver couldn't help but smile back, just a little.

He crept closer to the bed and said, "Jason?" He said it quietly, almost whispering it, the smallest hint of uncertainty in his voice. Oliver didn't wait for a reply. As soon as he had asked, he had known. He collapsed, his face buried in Jason's chest, and cried.

         Oliver eventually calmed down and pulled away from his older brother. He dragged a chair to his brother's bedside and stared down at his hands, finding himself unconsciously twiddling his thumbs again.

"I thought you were going to die." he muttered, "like mom, you know? I thought, I thought I was going to lose you too."

A thin smile spread across Jason's lips and he patted his little brother's head.

"I'm fine, just like I promised." Oliver nodded, a faint smile spreading across his pale lips.

         The doctor cleared his throat, breaking the silence. Oliver's smile faded, he hadn't even noticed the doctor there.

"You guys should probably head home now." said the doctor.

Oliver shook his head, "Now? But he's still weak! Look at him! He can't go home yet!"

Jason nodded, "Oliver's right, I need to rest."

The doctor's cool composure was briefly interrupted by frustration. He smoothed his shirt and regained his calm appearance, but he was unable to keep the bitter edge from his voice.

"He'll be fine." He said. He looked at Jason, "You can rest at home."

He quickly left the room, eliminating anymore attempts at a protest.  Jason started to sit up, removing the thin blanket that lay over him. Oliver stared at his brother, startled.

"What are you doing?" He asked, "You need to rest!"

Jason rolled his eyes, "You heard the doctor, I'll be fine." Oliver scowled, but stood, seeing no point in arguing.

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         Oliver woke to the sound of his brother coughing, again. Jason had been coughing up his lungs all night. The first few times Oliver had walked to his brother’s room and tried to help him, but Jason refused his assistance every time. Oliver stared up at the ceiling.  Next time his brother coughed he would help him- whether he wanted help or not. Cough. There it was. Oliver crept to Jason’s door and crossed his arms. “I’m coming in, and I’m going to help you. Got that?” There was another cough and a weak reply, “I’m fine Oliver, go back to sleep. Oliver shook his head and slowly started towards the bed. “I can’t go to sleep, you idiot! Your damn suffering is keeping me up.” Jason chuckled softly, “sorry ‘bout that.”