Welcome to Trevisan International, you've reached the Chief Technical Officer's line, how may I help you? Pause. One moment please.

There is a buzz through the intercom on Adam's desk, and despite the fact that he can hear his assistant through the walls, he sighs and presses the button. "What? I'm a little busy. With Jon on vacation again, I'm once again doing the job of three fucking people so this better be important, Leanne."

I'm so sorry Mr. Trevisan, but there is some one on the line about your brother's taxes?

"Oh for fucks sake, send it through." Adam knew he had told Jon to get his own taxes done before he went on his trip with his sort of girlfriend, but of course once again Adam had to cover for his brother. He had to do what his younger brother should have already done. The intercom clicked off, and the phone rang a moment after with the call put through, but when Adam picked up the phone, there was no one on the other line.

Frustrated at his time being wasted, he slammed the receiver back down and went back to the paperwork on his desk, which seemed to somehow double when he wasn't looking. That was odd, but not completely unexpected. They still hadn't hired a new Chief Financial Officer, so Adam was still doing that work, as well as his own job, and now that of Jon's job as Chief Executive Officer. Why was it that Jon felt he could go and travel whenever the fuck he wanted? Didn't he know that he had to work like the rest of them? Was Adam really the only responsible Trevisan these days?

Sighing, Adam rubbed his eyes, sitting at his desk with eyes closed for a moment, and when he opened them up, there was another large pile of paper on his desk. At this rate, he'd never get all this paperwork done, but he had to try. The phone rang again, and Adam answered it to once again find no one else was on the other end. As he hung up the phone, he saw boxes piled at his office door.

Confused, he walked over to the boxes to find they were filled with more paperwork, and when he went to go yell at his assistant, she wasn't at her desk. Instead there was even more paperwork and boxes at her desk, more things to do. Adam picked up one of the boxes and turned to go back into his office to find it was completely covered, floor to ceiling with paperwork. But sitting in the middle of it was someone he never thought he'd see again.

His father, Stephen Trevisan. The man who used to run Trevisan International, but died suddenly, causing Adam to cut his USAF career short, and return home to Boston. "Dad?" He asked, setting down the box he was carrying on a large pile of paperwork. He couldn't even see his desk anymore, all he saw were boxes and piles of paper, his father sitting in the center of it.

What a disaster this company has become, Adam. I'm very disappointed in you, his father said, and it cut straight to Adam's core - he had wanted to make his father proud, he wanted to prove he could be what the company needed, but now he wasn't so sure. You let your brother run this company to the ground, you're not working hard enough, look at all you've done. Look at your office! You can't even stay on top of your paperwork. What type of executive are you?

"All of this just appeared! I work a hell of a lot harder than Jon does, I carry this company! If I left, this company would fall to the ground!" Adam protested, growing angry, and his father laughed.

Your brother doesn't seem to think so. Jonathan has been able to get a social life, while he leaves all the work for you. Because you won't leave. Your life is cleaning up his messes, Adam. You're not good for anything else. If there was something else Adam wanted to say to his deceased father, he didn't get the chance, as the man disappeared, and Adam was left alone with a large pile of paperwork.

But he couldn't let all this paperwork sit here. He had to do it. He had a duty to the company, he had to be the one doing his job, he had to keep the company afloat. This was all that mattered; the life of a workaholic was a lonely one but that was the path he had decided on. Someone had to decide the future of the family business. Someone had to decide the path the family went.

He started in on the paperwork, and every time he thought he was making a dent, more appeared. It kept happening, and two hours in, Adam was getting frustrated. This was when he got more visitors.

It was Jon and Tess, but they looked slightly older. There were children running around the office too, using the larger than life piles of paper as slides and playing in them as if they were a pile of leaves. "Stop that! You're ruining everything!" Adam screamed at hte unknown children, and Jon yelled at his brother.

Is that any way to treat your nieces and nephews? They will run this company one day! Jon said and Tess stayed silent but looked proud of...her husband? Did they get married? When did that happen? Adam looked at his own hands but saw nothing, and Jon laughed. Don't worry, you're married to the job. You always would be.

Adam narrowed his eyes and glared. "What the hell are you talking about? And these...children will not run the company, I am next in line."

Not anymore you're not, Jon replied, grinning, The board met and we decided to vote you out. You're just a glorified accountant now, because child number ten, Jon said, as he rested a hand on Tess' stomach, and Tess grinned, Will be running this company. Not you.

"What? That's fucking bullshit! I demand to see the board!" Adam screamed and the nine children running around all went Oh, Uncle Adam said a bad word! Adam, angry, started for one of the children, but they all disappeared just as suddenly as they appeared, the only sound left was Jon's laughing at his brother's misfortune.

The paperwork was more than before now, and there was very little room for Adam to move. He couldn't get out, he couldn't get away. He took a step back, walking into a rather large pile behind him, and it started an avalanche of files and boxes falling on top of him, the weight of everything crushing him so he couldn't breathe, he couldn't scream. Everything went black.

Suddenly, Adam found himself in a white room, with a solitary black coffin in the center of it. There were no doors in the room, there were no windows. Just four white walls, and a black coffin in the middle of it. Hesitant, he walked towards it, though he could only guess what was inside. As he got closer, there was a piece of white paper on top of the coffin.

Here lies Adam Trevisan.
Work was his life, and so work was his death.
He will not be missed.

He crunched up the paper in his hand, and pulled up the top of the coffin, and he saw himself as an old man, lying dead in the coffin. He looked like he had died having not lived a fulfilled life, there was no mark of a wedding ring, and from the look of it, no one was mourning him.

Adam leaned in closer to get a better look.

The dead older version of himself had the eyes snap open and he snapped his arms up towards Adam. The dead Adam's hands grasped tightly around the alive Adam's neck and started to squeeze tight. This is all your fault. Look what you did to me! No friends, no family, no love, no respect. I'm nothing, and now you will be nothing too!

It shouldn't be this hard to fight a dead version of yourself, but Adam struggled. He couldn't get the hands off his neck, and try as he did, it didn't matter. It was too little too late, and he was soon strangled to death.

---

He woke up gasping for air, his own hand moving to his neck to make sure nothing was squeezing around it, and once Adam realized that he was okay, he took long steady breaths in and out to make sure he was breathing. He sat in the dark of his bedroom for a little while before he turned on the light, relieved to find himself alone, with no paperwork, files, boxes, or dead relatives around him. There were no little versions of his brother running around and annoying him (Which was a blessing in and of itself for now).

Resting against the headboard, Adam continued to breathe in deep, filling his lungs with the air he had felt had been taken from him and once he was calm enough, he tried to wrap his mind around everything. He didn't have to look at a clock to know he had been sleeping for far too long, and that he didn't mean to be out that long. He could tell by how his body felt, by how exhausted his muscles felt. As if he had run a marathon, but he knew he hadn't, that wasn't for a few weeks.

He wasn't sure what the dream was supposed to mean, at least all the moving parts. But he understood that maybe he was working a bit too much. But he had to, he didn't have a choice, and he knew that. In a way, he knew he was quite possibly doomed to live out the nightmare he just had, but when everyone else he knew wouldn't step up to the plate, he had to take charge.

But, maybe a break once in a while wouldn't hurt. Of course he wouldn't let anyone know about that, because he was a man doomed to repeat mistakes.

It was the Trevisan way.