Belonging

Be skeptical of their smiles, plated gold

Gerard blinks, his eyes and forehead peaking out from the water. His toes grip the basin at the other side of the tub, cold.

Warmth fills the ache in his heels and shoulders. The wounds had gotten so bad yesterday he felt his heartbeat in them, curled up in Lyn-z's bed like a lost child. The red skin looks like marker against his pale complexion.

Four candles light the bathroom, each sitting on one corner of the tub's rim where it's fixed into the wall. The small flames flicker, three small white wax ones and the other a large lavender-scented mess of purple.

Pushing his hands against the bottom of the tub, Gerard lifts his head up to breathe normally. The bottom of his hair weighs down with the water, half of his face damp from steam but otherwise dry. Gerard's toes slip in.

He can't get his dream of Frank's office out of his mind, the mess of loops and swirls and bumps in dark ink on that page significant to something he can't understand. Was the document real? What was it for? What business did Iero enterprises attend to?

Gerard stares at the bath wall, one arm braced on the side of the tub and holding his head up. The bathroom was gold and yellow like the rest of the house. Tiles expanded up to his right, swirling with different shades of the same color scheme. Brush strokes raise from the wet surface, and Gerard reaches a wet, wrinkly hand up to feel ridges in the paint.

He sees images in them as he stares closer. A handshake; The fingers made with paint that had bled slightly, strokes on either side representing the wrists. On another, a face. Gerard trails his fingers to that one, feeling over the dots that make up the eyes and open mouth. Through the steam he watches, eyes widening as the face curls back without a head. The eyes and mouth melt open painfully wide. Gerard startles, hand jerking back as he can almost hear the tortured scream that would echo through the house.

Footsteps sound outside the door.

He freezes, the image bleeding out from his thought process. Gerard whips his head around, water flicking off the tips of his hair.

The door is locked, the little nob vertical on the door. Knowing that wouldn't stop anyone in this house if they wanted to really get in, he sinks down into the tub.

"Donna?" Gerard looks around frantically, holding his breath and wishing for his father to walk away. He clears his throat, splashing the water.

"What?" He asks, faking annoyance in a high voice. The footsteps walk away and he groans, moving to get out of the tub as fast as he can.

                              *

Gerard lays in bed, his feet and shoulders still healing. His thoughts plague him.

There's a big window in the room, looking out on the front yard. Gerard watches people move below, tiny houses and shops in an odd circle. A small group of people is gathered around one of the larger pine trees at the edge of the forest. He sighs, watching two beats fight about something he doesn't know.

Gerard listens to his father and Bert talking downstairs. He cringes as a hardy laugh makes its way up to the second floor. They sound like a husband and father-in-law on an American sitcom. It makes Gerard sick, laying there with his sore muscles and creaky bones. Fresh out of a coma and alone, not that he would have it any other way.

Gerard looks at the ceiling, staying on his side.

When he could walk more than twenty feet, he was going to find what business Bert had with Frank. Whatever it was, it was something.

Yes, Gerard thinks. Something.

                              *

The tree comes in the next day. Gerard watches omegas and beats alike ruffle to get the tall pine into the house. His mother gleefully runs around it with gold ribbon, wrapping as far as she can reach and then yelling at one of the omegas to fetch her one of the rolling staircases from the library to finish the job. The gold angel on top of almost touches the ceiling with her crown, the tree tall and thick. It sheds pine needles all over the floor in the back section of the den, omegas scurrying to pick them all up individually.

Gold bobbles reflect the room. The shiny orbs can't take up the whole tree because the decorations were brought from LA, where the pack's Christmas tree was always small and modest. Gerard doubts this will be the pack's Christmas tree, nothing about the pack house really held to its name anymore.

He sighs, watching Bert and his parents chatter some more before slipping away and back to Lyn-z's room.

Something. He repeats to himself when the door is closed behind him. I just need something.

            *

I know this chapter was kinda meh, but I have SO MUCH PLANNED IM SO EXCITED OOOOOO.

So anyway, thoughts? Predictions on what's about to go DOWN?

Votes and comments are always appreciated. I'll see you peoples soon!