Dying Wish

"Yes," I replied, and I was.

When I was clean Theresa helped to dry me and then I attacked the growth on my face. I cleaned my teeth and then looked around, wondering what to expect now. I must have looked hopeful, but Theresa was dressed again.

"Get dressed first," she said firmly, "then we talk, and then we can take up where we just left off." I nodded and she walked out of the bathroom.

She had a fresh coffee when I got back to the lounge, and I sat down and took a drink of my juice. Then I told her everything. I told her about the consciousness when I died, which was something I had never mentioned to anyone. I told her about seeing the spots, and rationalising them. I told her how I had seen her spot shrink and I told her that I could no longer see any spots at all on anyone. She listened, and then she smiled.

"I believe you," she said, "there is no other explanation." I nodded, relieved.

"Edgar," she said in a sultry voice, "take me to bed."

This time we stripped each other hurriedly. We should have taken our time, but I think we both needed it badly. Naked we fell onto the bed, and we kissed and I wriggled around until I could feel the heat from her pussy against my cock.

"Got a condom?" she asked, and my face fell as I saw my dream flying away due to the lack of a rubber.

"It's OK," she said, "I have."

Then I had to let her out from under me, and she went and got it from her bag. She handed it to me.

"Uh... how..." I stuttered. I was a virgin, and I had never had the need to learn how to put one on before. Theresa giggled, shrugged, and between us we managed to get it over my rigid cock. Finally I was once again over her, my cock nudging against her entrance. I looked at Theresa.

"Fuck me Edgar," she said and I pushed forward. Then she helped me to line it up properly, I pushed again, and my virginity was gone.

The sensations were exquisite. It was tight, it was hot, and I could feel her body moving under me as I quickly built up speed.

"Oh, yeah," she gasped, but then I felt my orgasm suddenly hit and I shuddered as I came.

I looked down, embarrassed that I had shot so quickly, and the dark clouds of depression prepared to return.

"First time?" Theresa asked gently, and I nodded slowly.

"Don't worry, it's always quick the first time, you'll last longer next time."

Next time? There was going to be next time? I looked up hopefully, and I suddenly realised that I had my colours back. I could see the small red dot in her breast, and I reached my hand towards it. Theresa looked at me hopefully, and I smiled and nodded.

"It's back," I said and once again we felt the spark arcing between us as I clasped her breast. Once again I felt my energy flow into her and I watched as the red spot shrank down to nothing. Then the flow stopped. Theresa looked at me hopefully and I smiled.

"Gone," I said. She grinned and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring my mouth.

"Do you need to rest?" she asked and I resisted. I knew I needed to rest, but I also wanted to fuck.

"Don't worry," she reassured me, "I'll be here when you wake up, and we'll see what we can do about your stamina." I fell asleep.

I woke to an amazing feeling and I looked down to see my hard cock engulfed in Theresa's mouth. She felt me move and her smouldering dark eyes looked up towards me. Even with her mouth full I could tell she was grinning.

"Wow," I gasped, and she continued for a short while and then moved away. I moaned in frustration, but she returned with another condom.

"How many...?" I started to ask, but she interrupted me.

"Enough," she replied firmly, and then she rolled the condom on, moved above me, held my cock so it was pointing up, and then she lowered herself slowly onto it.

The second time we took it a bit slower and I lasted a bit longer. We kept the cowgirl going for a while, and then switched to doggy style when Theresa's legs got tired. I loved the sensation of being inside Theresa, and not too much later I felt myself coming again. When that happened I got my colour back again, even though I hadn't noticed before then that I had lost it.

I visualized my gift as being sort of battery powered. If I expended my energy by curing the cancer, I discharged the battery, and then I lost both the power to see the cancer, and the power to cure the cancer. For some reason I recharged my battery by having sex. It was weird, but that seemed to be how it worked. Things were really looking up, not only could I do the impossible, but I had a damn good reason to have a lot of sex too. That has to be the ultimate dream for an eighteen year old boy.

We used four condoms over the course of the day, and we were lying in my bed when I heard the car in the driveway. Looking at the clock I was amazed to see it was seven thirty already. My parents were home.

"The folks?" Theresa asked, and I grimaced and nodded.

"You go down there now and I'll be down in five," she said.

I heard my father calling me repeatedly as I got dressed, and each time he did I could hear the frustration growing in his voice. It looked like it was going to be one of those nights.

"Hi Dad, hi Mum," I said cheerfully as I walked into the lounge, and then I saw a third person in the room. He was an older man who was wearing a worn tweed jacket that made him look like a teacher from an old movie. He was balding on the top but wore his remaining hair quite long. I groaned inwardly. Psychologist, I guessed.

"Edgar, this is Doctor Fellow," Mum said, "he's come to see what can be done about your, er depression." She forced a smile. I saw the red spots on both of her breasts, and knew I had to address that quickly, but first I had to get rid of the doctor.

I decided to take the bull by the horns as it were, and I strode over to the startled doctor, and shook his hand firmly.

"I'm sorry to waste your time Doctor Fellow," I said, "but I no longer have any problems."

"Oh... er... I'm sure..." The doctor was looking at my parents desperately. I guess they must have told him about my apathy, and about my unkempt appearance. The youth he saw just didn't match the description he had been given.

Then Theresa made an appearance, and she had that 'just fucked' rumpled glow that some women get. Her hair was in disarray and her blouse was buttoned up wrong. I loved it.

"Edgar?" My mother asked looking at Theresa.

"Mum, Dad, Doctor Fellowes, this is Theresa my... um..." I stalled. What were we? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Lovers? Friends with benefits?

"Friend," Theresa said, and then she came over and kissed me and looked over at my parents.

"Nice to meet you, but I have to go, I'm late," she said, "See you tomorrow Edgar." And with that she breezed out. It was nice to see my parents stunned into silence for once.

"It's OK," I reassured them, rubbing a bit of salt into the wound, "we are using protection." My dad choked on something and coughed a lot.

My dad insisted that the doctor should still have a good long chat with me, but I could see the doctor felt there was nothing wrong. Eventually he left, telling my father he would ring him in the morning. After he went there was a long, uncomfortable silence.

"It's nice to see you, um, happy again," Mum finally said and Dad nodded. I wondered how the hell I was going to deal with the next bit, and I decided I would just go with it.

"Mum," I said, "can I ask you something?" She looked unsure, probably expecting an attack on them bringing in the moth-eaten doctor.

"Oh, sure," she finally said.

"When did you last have a breast examination?" I asked.

"What?" my Dad growled.

I tried to explain it, but you can imagine how well that went down. Five minutes later my parents had decided that I was insane. I was struggling to say anything without them shooting me down before I even finished the sentence. I finally found what I thought was the best answer.

"Mum," I asked, "can I go in to work with you tomorrow?"

"Why?" She asked. Mum was one of the head pathologists working at the nearby Empathy public hospital, and I thought my plan was brilliant.

"I want you to take me up to the cancer ward," I said, "and get a nurse who knows the patients to come with us. I will tell you what sort of cancer each patient has, and more or less how advanced it is. If I can do that will you at least take the test?"

"Don't waste your time," my father advised scornfully, but Mum stared at me.

"You really believe this don't you?" she said.

"I do."

"Then yes," she said, "the test that you propose is impossible, so it will only show that your imagination has got the better of you."

I smiled.

I rang Theresa and told her I would be at the hospital in the morning, and she said she would come over and visit later. Then I had an early night, I wanted to be well rested.

I slept well, feeling more relaxed than I had been for a long time. I wanted to show people what I could do, but I didn't really spend a lot of time thinking about how people would react, except for seeing me as some sort of superstar.

"This is Greta Ferguson," Sally said, as we walked past a single room. Sally was the oncology nurse who was accompanying us on the unusual rounds. As agreed we walked out of earshot before I replied.

"Lung cancer," I said, "right lung, quite advanced." Sally shook her head, wrote something down and we kept going.

"Ron Harper, bed one and Fergus McKenzie, bed two," Sally said, and we walked.

"Prostate cancer, very early stages and I guess the all over glow is blood cancer? I haven't seen many of them so I can't tell you how advanced." Sally wrote.

We stood aside as a bed was wheeled past, and there was a child in it.

"Shit," I muttered.

"What?" Sally asked.

"That kid, brain tumour about here," I said, pointing to a place on my head, "and it is getting real bad. Can't you do something?"

Sally shook her head.

"Inoperable," she replied, "it would kill him."

"I could fix that in less than a week," I said quietly, and a man behind me, who I hadn't seen, gasped.

"Really?" he asked, his desperation clear.

"Don't listen to him," my mother said, "he is delusional." It was the first time she had spoken since we started seeing the patients. The man looked devastated.

"Wait," Sally said, and she turned to me. "How did you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?" I responded.

"All those people, how did you know exactly what cancer they had, and how bad it was?"

"I see it," I said simply.

"Probably got a list from somewhere and memorised it", my mother said cynically.

"No," Sally said, "I had two patients moved, and I gave the wrong names. If he was going off a list they would have been wrong."

"You had better keep your end of the bargain," I said to my shocked mother, "today."

"What?" Sally asked, but I just shook my head.

"Can you really help Timothy?" the man asked desperately.

"I believe so." I replied.

"What is involved?" was his next question.

"I need to touch the skin closest to the cancer with my hand for about ten minutes," I said, but after that I will be very drained, and I will need to rest."

"What harm can it do?" the man asked Sally.

"Hi Timothy," I said, "My name is Edgar. I am going to touch your head, and it will give you a small zap, OK?"

"Will it help me?" the boy asked in a plaintive voice.

"I hope so," I replied. I had agreed not to build up his hopes.

"OK."

I moved my hand to the position just above the tumour, and pressed my palm against his head. I felt the same shock that I had with Theresa, and then I felt the energy flowing. I watched as the angry red spot faded in colour, and eventually it also reduced a small bit in size. I had planned to stop before I was completely drained, but I could see how badly Timothy needed the relief, so I kept going until my energy ran out. Eventually my hand dropped away.

"About ten percent," I mumbled, and then I collapsed.

I woke up in a hospital bed, and there was a blonde nurse watching me.

"You're awake," she observed with a grin.

"How long?" I asked.

"Almost two hours, you gave us quite a scare." I nodded.

"How is Timothy?"

"Happier than we have seen him for weeks," she said, "but I'm not supposed to tell you that."

"Thanks," I said.

"Can you really see cancer?" she asked, obviously struggling to believe what she had seen herself.

"Not after my energy has been drained like that," I said, "I have to... er... recharge."

"How do you that?"

"It's sort of a personal thing," I replied. She nodded, and pressed the nurse call button. Within moments Sally was there.

"That was amazing," Sally said, not dragging anything out. "Timothy had just had a brain scan when you saw him, and after you did what you did he got some of his coordination back. So I sent him for another scan and the reduction in the size of the tumour between the scans is just under nine percent." I nodded. I had seen it.

"Can you really get rid of it entirely?" she asked eagerly. She had seen the evidence, and now she was a believer.

"Yes, but it will take quite a few... er... treatments?" I wasn't sure what to call them.

"When can you do the next one?" she asked, "can it be today?"

"It would have to be in a few hours' time," I said, "I have something I have to do before I can do it again."

"Oh," Sally looked disappointed.

"He says it is like recharging," the other nurse added, and I nodded.

"Can we help with something?" Sally asked her eyes ablaze with enthusiasm.

"It's a really personal thing," I said.

"Oh..." Sally's phone chirped, interrupting her train of thought and she looked at it and frowned.

"I've got to go, um... see you later?"

"Yeah," I agreed, and she left at the closest thing to a run that you are likely to see in a hospital.

"So," the other nurse said, "you have to go and do this personal thing?" She grinned.

"Yeah," I said.

"Do you do it alone?" she asked stretching the last word.

"Well no, I have a friend..."

"Oh, a girlfriend?" she said, moving her hands over her chest and accenting the breasts.

"Well," I said hesitantly, "she is a girl but we aren't really..." I was struggling to explain a relationship that was only in its very early stages.

"Ah," the nurse said knowingly, "friends with benefits." I shrugged. I didn't really know.

"So what you are saying," the nurse said huskily, "is that you recharge with sex." She ran her fingers up my arm.

"Um, yes," I said nervously. She licked her lips suggestively.

"Does it have to be her specifically?" she asked, and I gulped.

"I... don't know," I managed to say.

"Edgar, have you ever fantasised about fucking a nurse?" she asked as her hand dropped to my lap and clasped my hardening cock. I groaned.

We had to make it a quickie, because neither of us wanted to get caught. She had a condom, and she certainly knew how to put it on while sucking me into her mouth. After a few moments of that she stood me up and then lifted her short white uniform up and lay on the bed with her legs hanging off it. She was wearing pink cotton panties, which she quickly pulled aside to show me her smooth pussy. She told me to fuck her, and fuck her I did. We were trying to keep quiet, but I could tell she was seriously holding back. She was grunting and mewing softly as my cock pumped in and out of her tight pussy, and I am sure that in less public circumstances she would have been howling. We went at it quickly, and I guess it would have been only five of six minutes after we started when I came. I fell onto the nurse, and kissed her properly for the first time.

"What's your name," I asked as I panted from exertion, and we both broke into laughter. Our priorities had not been normal.

"Lorraine," she said, "but my friends call me Lozza." I smiled.

"Thanks Lozza," I said, "we can go and see to Timothy now." She smiled.

"Any time," she said, and this time I smiled.

"I might just take you up on that," I suggested.

"I really hope you do."

Sally was surprised when we said I was ready to do another treatment. She looked at Lozza with an expression that said she would be demanding details later, Lozza just grinned, and I wondered what was going on there. When we got back to Timothy's room the word had obviously spread around the ward, and there were more people wanting to watch what happened than there was space for. I only made two demands during the arguments about who got to stay and who went. The first was that it would be hospital staff only. I didn't want other patients or their families seeing how simple the process was; because I knew I wouldn't be able to help them all. The second was that Timothy's father was to be there right next to him. I was surprised that anyone would even question that, but one idiot did.

"Mister Edgar," Timothy said as I prepared to do the next treatment, "I feel much better now, thanks to you." I smiled; this was precisely what I had wished for.

"That's good," I said, "now let's see if we can do a little bit more."

Again I watched the tumour, and this time it started shrinking right away. I was hoping to halve the size this time, but again I ran out of energy before I got there. I reduced it by about forty percent I guessed, and then I collapsed again.

When I woke up I was in my bed at home, and Theresa was beside it.

"How are you sleepy head?" she asked, and I was suddenly overwhelmed by guilt.

"Good..." I said hesitantly. "Um, Theresa, I..." She leaned down and kissed me.

"I know that you did two treatments today, so you must have done it with someone else," she said. "Did you use a condom?"

"Yes."

"Good, then I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"That kid's cancer would be much worse now if you hadn't done it with someone to reload," she said, "and by using a condom you haven't put me at risk. Tonight and tomorrow I am going to be right here with you, and then I am going away for a week with Ellie, my best friend, to celebrate my cure. I have a lot to thank you for, but I think we both need to spend some time apart to think about our relationship. But for the moment, if you are looking to cure someone, do whatever you need to, as long as it is safe."

"Can we...?" I started to ask and Theresa smiled.

"After dinner," she replied, "your parents are waiting."

It was an extremely strained dinner, and I was very relieved that Theresa was there as a guest. My mother had fulfilled her end of the deal, but having seen my demonstration she was obviously very frightened at the prospect that I might actually be right, and that she might actually have cancer. She was trying very hard to find reasons that explained how I could be wrong.

My father was obviously mad at me for making my mother unhappy, and mad at her for going along with my suggestion, which then made her unhappy. His main concern was that mum being unhappy made him unhappy. He always related everything back to how it was bad for him, and in this case he showed no outward concern for Mum's health.

On the other hand I was elated at the results I had managed to achieve with Timothy, happy that now there were people who believed me, and pretty tired too after the day's events.

Like my father I wasn't concerned about Mum's health, but unlike him that was because I knew I would be able to cure her. As we ate dinner one very uncomfortable penny dropped. If mum did have breast cancer then to treat her I would have to touch her breasts. I suddenly wondered how all four of us who were present would cope with that.

"Don't be silly," Theresa admonished when I brought that up later when we were alone. "You are now effectively a doctor, and a doctor has to touch all sorts of people in all sorts of places. It isn't sexual, it's medical. Are you going to refuse to treat a man with testicular cancer because you are afraid to touch another man's balls?"