Pretty Bird

Welcome to The Jungle: Take Two- The Sykes Dinner Table, yet again. It was the same seating arrangement as last time, my left hand being held in Oliver's right as we sat next to each other, our fingers dancing together under the dinner table, out of view. I was still sitting across from Tom, whose normally brilliant blue eyes were now muted and more grey than baby blue. They were so expressive, too. Normally, I could tell with just a look if he was happy, upset, or frustrated. That night, though, he just looked tired, completely exhausted. Caroline, on the other hand, actually had that mysterious 'pregnant glow', her skin shining under the dining room chandelier, her eyes sparkling and expressive. Tom was right; she was big now, almost unable to push her chair in. Ian and Carol still didn't seem too pleased about it, Carol constantly giving Caroline tiny disapproving glares throughout the dinner. This time, the table really was like the jungle. There were no cute stories being told about Oliver or Tom as babies, or any happy chatter about Drop Dead or the weather. Everyone was silent, commenting on the food every now and then, giving small smiles to people who they happened to stare at a little too long.

"Tom." Carol addressed her youngest son as she swallowed a sip of water. "Are you excited about Germany, then?" She looked at Caroline and scowled. She then turned to Oliver, and scowled as well. I just looked down at my empty plate, trying to focus on anything but the ridiculous amount of awkward, nervous tension.

"I think it'll be fun." Tom replied, looking down in his lap. Unlike Oliver and I, both of Tom's hands were in his lap, his whole body separate from Caroline's.

"I can't believe this." Caroline spat, her eyes narrowing at Oliver. "I am pregnant, Tom. And you're leaving."

I looked over at Oliver, who's eyes were set on Tom's face, trying to map out his facial expressions. I just squeezed his hand a little, but he didn't notice. His facial expression still appeared to be set in stone.

"Well, its not like you're due tomorrow or anything." Tom shrugged, his eyes still downcast, as if avoiding Caroline at all costs.

"But what if something happens! What if the baby gets sick! What if I die in my sleep! Tom, what if I die!?" She screeched at the end, even Ian cringing at the high pitched tones she reached.

"He has to go." Oliver's hand broke away from mine, both of his hands slamming down on the table. The dinnerware shivered from the impact, the drinks sloshing around in the cups. "It's for business."

Caroline just stared, her huge eyes set on Oliver as if he was some kind of demon. "If something happens, it'll be your fault, Oli."

Oliver's hands left the table, slipping down to his sides again. I was too scared to hold his right hand again. All I did was look up at Tom, who was looking completely down, his head in his hands as his elbows rested on the table.

"It's a done issue, alright?" Tom groaned, his chair scooting out from the table. "I'm incredibly tired."

"Well," Caroline rolled her eyes, grabbing Tom's wrist as he stood up, stopping him from leaving the table. "Tom and I have an announcement to make."

'Please not marriage. Please not marriage. Please not marriage.' read on everyone's faces. I tried to decipher Tom's facial expression again, but his eyes were downcast, now focused on Caroline, who still had a firm grip around his wrist. He finally looked up at his mother, who's facial expression was still set into a half scowl, half frown.

"We," She smiled, the attention now all focused on her. "We went to the doctors a few day's ago, for the check up. And," She beamed, giving everyone at the table a once over with her bright eyes. "We're having a girl. A little girl."

Carol's expression instantly softened, the inner grandmother finally emerging in front of my eyes for the first time. "Oh, that's lovely!" She beamed back at Caroline, who seemed to have some euphoric look on her face. "A little girl."

"That's cute." Oliver commented, his eyes stone cold on Caroline still. She ignored him however, turning her attention to Carol.

"I was so excited! I had told Tom to not want a boy or a girl more than the other but secretly I've been wanting a daughter more! They're fun to dress up and to have a friend around always and just do girly things..."

Her voice trailed off, my attentions no longer focused on her obnoxious banter. What I did notice, was Caroline's grip around Tom's wrist loosen and eventually drop, her hands now clasped together as she spoke to Carol about baby things. As soon as he was no longer held captive, Tom took a deep, heavy breath, before fading away from the dinner table, unnoticed as if he was a ghost.

I turned to Oliver, who had also noticed Tom's departure, even though no one else besides myself seemed to. He turned to me, squeezing my hand gently, before nodding his head to his father, and excusing himself from the table. I smiled weakly at Ian, and turned to face Carol and Caroline again, even though my mind was completely blocking out their shallow conversation. All I really could catch were little bits of the conversation; talk of a pink nursery, pigtails, and baby names they both liked. It was if Carol had selective amnesia, forgetting the epic breakdown Caroline had before dinner when Oliver broke the news that Tom was going to Germany with us.

I stared blankly at them for a while, my mind obviously wandering towards what Oliver and Tom were doing. I couldn't get Tom's facial expressions out of my mind. I had never seen anyone look so completely miserable. Just a few months ago, he was his normal self; quiet, but happy. He liked his cameras, partying with his big brother, and touring with the band as Matt's drum tech. Now though, it was as if he had been reduced to just the shell of what he used to be. He hadn't taken a photograph in weeks, or been to any of the band's 'get togethers', except for that one at Lee's months before.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I felt my chair scoot out from under me, and both Carol and Caroline's eyes look at me.

"Bathroom." I managed to say, my hands pressing on the table, supporting my weight as I sat up. Caroline just gave me a weird look, as if there was something on my face. Carol smiled weakly, before turning back to Caroline, the conversation continuing. I walked into the hallway, stopping at the stairwell that descended down into Oliver's old room. When I heard no voices, I decided that my best bet was Tom's room; the attic. I climbed the first set of stairs to the second level quickly, my feet only touching each step for seconds, as I was trying to be light, and quick. I didn't want Ian and Carol to know I was traipsing around their house. When i reached the attic stairs though, my feet all of a sudden felt incredibly heavy, as if my shoes weighed 5 tons each. I reached out, and gripped the hand rail firmly, before taking the first step. There was a tiny creaking noise as I lifted myself up, my ears straining to hear their voices. I heard whispers on the other side of the stairs, and shadows moving against the wall. When I reached a few more steps up, the conversation was much more audible.

"You have a kid, Tom! You are being so selfish right now!" I had heard Oliver yell at Tom many times before, usually about trivial things though. This time, his voice sounded as sharp as a razor, as hard as nails.

"I just cant, Oli. I thought you'd understand. I just cant do it anymore!"

"Think about your baby! Your daughter!" I saw Oliver's shadow, his hands reaching up to his face before letting his fingers rake through his hair. He let out a deep exhalation, before his hands fell, and crossed over his chest.

"I know, Oli. I've thought about all of it." Tom whispered, his voice sounding tiny and wounded. Even his shadow was small, hunched over as he sat on his bed, his elbows resting on his knees as his head pointed down to the floor, his eyes clearly downcast. "But think about it. It has to be worse to have two parents together who hate each other, than just two separate parents."

"But what if things get better? What if you're just stressed. I mean, Caroline's only halfway pregnant. She still has like, a million weeks to go, right? Things can always get better."

As if Tom had been possessed, he shot up from the bed, his hands shooting up to his face, Oliver scooting back reflexively. "They aren't going to get fucking better! I've been feeling like shit for months, Oliver! Months!"

There was complete silence as Tom sighed, and sat back down on the bed. Oliver was still standing there, watching his brother, his hands now shoved into the pockets of his tight jeans. All of a sudden, the step underneath me creaked, and both Oliver and Tom's head turned, expecting someone to come up the stairs. I felt my body tense up and freeze, as if I was a deer caught in headlights. Very slowly, I felt my legs move up, taking the next step, and the next, until I was standing in the attic, my shadow on the wall now along with Oliver and Tom's.

"We thought you were her." Oliver whispered, taking a step back and sitting in Tom's desk chair.

I just looked at him, trying to give him an adequate response without actually speaking. I then turned to Tom who had taken up his original spot on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. I sighed, and sat next to him on the bed, my arm wrapped around him as I brought him close. He sighed too, trying to hold back tears, even though a few stray ones began sliding down his cheeks. His body slumped into mine, his arm wrapped around my body. He was close, his head resting on my shoulder, as his breathing became more and more hitched.

"I can't do it anymore, Christian. I can't just take it."

"I know, Baby Sykes. I know."

______________________________________

It had been an entire week since that awkward, melodramatic dinner at Oliver's parent's. It meant a new ultrasound picture, coming with a bonus gift: a card, made of pink card stock paper, proclaiming 'Its A Girl!' in shiny yellow letters. Inside, was the picture of the ultrasound, all secured in with a checkered pink ribbon. We set it on the fridge next to the others, Oliver kissing my neck gently as his hands wrapped around my waist from behind. With his kiss, I finally let the excitement of the news set in, instead of the worry about Tom's situation. There had been no epic freak outs since then, so I assumed Tom hadn't said anything to Caroline.

Besides the new ultrasound pictures, the suitcases had also made their way into the bedroom from out of the closet. Oliver and I had only enjoyed the grounded lifestyle for a few months, and were now forced back out into the world of travel. I always told Oliver when we were finally finished traveling, that I would gag if I ever saw another airplane again. He would just laugh, kissing me on my temple, before reminding me that lots of people wished to be jet setters. This time though, I did feel my gag reflex twitching deep in my throat when I saw our plane tickets, a direct flight from London to Berlin.

I was actually packing, taking clothes that had come fresh out of the dryer and folding them into the suitcase when I had sent Oliver out. He left to go to the store real quick to pick up more laundry detergent, so we could finish packing. One of the many rules I had learned from touring with Oliver and a bunch of other dirty boys was that none of them consistently washed their clothes. In order to ensure Oliver's cleanliness, I made sure all of his clothes were clean before leaving.

So, I was more than shocked to hear the doorbell ring as I was in the middle of folding a pair of jeans. Oliver had his house keys; they were connected to the car keys. And its not like we were expecting anyone, either. One of my major causes of anxiety back in high school was actually answering the door when I wasn't expecting anyone. I remember actually hiding away from windows and doors, just in case the person ringing the doorbell looked around and saw me inside, and really wanted to be let in. I was also that way about the telephone, which is one of the reasons I always had Oliver answer the house phone when it rang. He just accepted it, making it his second nature to answer the phone whenever the annoying ringing ruined the peace and quiet inside.

I set the pair of jeans down, and walked into the living room, opening the front door as my mind went through the checklist of possibilities of people who would drop by unexpectedly. My mind instantly flickered to Tom, but the person who I opened the door too was definitely someone older...and taller.

"Curtis?" I opened the door further, letting him step inside. "It's barely 40 degrees outside, what are you doing taking a walk?" I watched as he slipped his shoes off by the front door, and flipped his hair out of his face.

"Alena stole my wallet." He said matter of factly, as if it was the most normal, simple thing in the world. "And your place is the closest to their's."

You know how in old cartoons, all the little character's jaws would literally drop to the floor, exposing all of their teeth and their tongue and all that? If I was a cartoon, I would have looked like that as his words processed inside my brain.

He just shrugged, walking further into the living room. "Can I use your phone? I need to call Holly and get a ride."

I shook myself out of my shock, and walked into the kitchen, retrieving the phone for him. "What the hell happened?"

"I was over there, waiting for Blake," He started, his hair falling into his eyes again. "He was supposed to meet me at his house, and we would go to mine. He doesn't know where I live and all..." He trailed, his hand moving up to tuck his fringe out of his face. "But he never came. I ended up falling asleep, and when I woke up, Alena was gone and so was my wallet."

"So you're sure she took it?" I asked, sitting on the armrest of the loveseat. My mouth was still slightly agape, the story still sinking in.

"Where else would it had gone? I had like, 100 pounds in there. I was supposed to go to Tesco and buy the dinner ingredients."

"Oh god," I said under my breath, my eyes averting to the floor before focusing on Curtis again. "She probably bought drugs, you know."

Curtis nodded, staring at the house phone in his hands. "Both her and Blake are scaring the shit out of me now. I just wanted to get Blake out of there, even for an evening. He needs a good dinner."

"Do you know what they're doing?" I asked, sliding down to where I was actually sitting on the couch.

Curtis shrugged, looking back up at me. "I still just buy my weed from him, but I know...I know Alena has been into meth for a long time apparently. She has a deal with some big time dealer where she gets hits for free. She got Blake into it. And now Blake is trying to start selling and all. He really needs help. He needs to clean up, bad. Alena was the worst decision he ever made."

"Oh my god..." I whispered, my eyes focused on my hands in my lap. In my head, I knew this was probably what was going on, but to hear someone else, especially someone like Curtis who Blake still trusted say it was still completely devastating. I felt my vision blur for a second, and my hands begin to shake. My breathing began to become ragged and short, as all of the oxygen was rapidly being sucked out of the room. Out of instinct, I felt my hands instantly grab the area of skin between my thumbs and index fingers, that stupid calming pressure point.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5....

"Christian?"

Curtis' voice instantly snapped me out, the room becoming clear around me once again and my breathing beginning to even out and stabilize.

"Christian, Blake needs an intervention. And we need to set it up. He needs help."