Pretty Bird

I woke up in arms.

Oliver's arms, thank God. My mind was completely hazy, completely unable to form a coherent thought. All I could do was groan softly, and shift in his arms. He shifted as well, pulling my body up and closer up his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. Then, I heard the television on, the soft murmurs of the actor's voices filling the airwaves inside our living room.

I didn't say anything, just opened my eyes, the dull yellow light of the table lamp emitting a dusky glow. It had to be late; the sky was pitch black, void of moonlight. I turned my head up to look at Oliver, his eyes gazing right back down at mine.

"Wake up, Sleepyhead." He whispered, his lip ring catching the light momentarily as he smiled gently at me.

"What happened?" I whispered, closing my eyes again and resting back against his chest.

"Lots happened." He replied, his tone matching my whisper. "You've been asleep all day."

"No, no I haven't. I was at the intervention."

"Yeah, that was at 10 this morning. Matt brought you here." Oliver explained, his hand unwrapping itself from me in order to grab the remote and turn off the television. "You were a complete mess."

"I was? What? Matt? Nicholls?" My mind raced backwards, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. "I just remember yelling at Blake."

"You yelled at him alright." Oliver laughed softly, kissing the top of my head gently, his arms gripping tighter. "Yelled him right into Wales."

"What!?" My voice was still tired, but I couldn't hide my emotion. "He went? To rehab?" A huge smile appeared on my face as I opened my eyes again and turned to look at Oliver.

"He did. He went on the plane."

I couldn't suppress a childish giggle that erupted from my chest, my body turning, Oliver's and my bodies now stomach to stomach, his hands wrapped loosely around my back. "He's gonna get better, Oliver..."

He just smiled slightly, studying my face. "I hope so, Chris."

The television was off and neither of us spoke, but the silence was soft and comfortable, my mind instantly eased. "Matt brought me here? What happened?"

"Well," Oliver took a deep breath, as if preparing for a long story. "Apparently you were showing signs of a panic attack the entire time, and Lee told Matt to keep an eye on you."

"Lee can always pick up one everything." I interrupted, remembering my hitched breathing and my water glass shaking in my trembling hands.

"I know." Oliver said, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "Anyways, so during the actual thing, Blake starting yelling at you, and surprisingly, you yelled back." Oliver smirked at me, raising his eyebrows. "Wish I could have seen that happen."

I just rolled my eyes, but inwardly, the whole idea that I actually snapped at someone really did take a second to sink into my mind.

"Well, you yelled back, and you actually pushed Blake. You pushed him into a wall, and Matt had to reach out and hold you back, you lunged at him a second time once he hit the wall."

"I went crazy." I whispered, my eyes trailing off to stare at the hard wood flooring pattern.

"He needed it, Christian." Oliver explained, placing his hand gently under my chin and turning my face up back towards his. "I think that's what made him go. I think he needed that reality check."

I just nodded, trying to let the idea settle well in my mind. "And?"

"Well, you passed out. As Matt was holding you back. You probably overwhelmed yourself. You were probably hyperventilating, and when you exerted all that energy screaming and crying and all, your brain probably couldn't handle it. You just fell right back against Matt, good thing he was holding onto you tight."

"Oh, God..." I instantly blushed, feeling intense embarrassment. "I passed out? On someone?!"

Oliver just laughed, and nodded. "So Matt took you here, where I had thankfully just gotten home, and you've been asleep ever since."

"Wow..." I let the story sink in, before turning back to Oliver's comforting gaze. "What did you do today?"

Oliver just shrugged. "Went into work for only a few hours, and then picked up Tom, and...." He let the and sit on his tongue for a while as I stared up at him, impatient. I hated it when he stalled. "Bought the suits. For the wedding." He grinned huge, as his eyes tried to gage my reaction.

"You did?!" I beamed too, making him smile 5 times bigger.

He nodded, squeezing me gently again. "Still need Matt's measurements, but yeah. They're ordered."

"So it's all coming together..." I breathed, kissing him on the lips softly. I pulled away, before resting my head on his chest.

"Mrs. Oliver Scott Sykes." He smiled into the kiss, and rested his head back onto the armrest of the couch.

"I think everything might just be okay..." I said finally, my mind calming down for the first time in months. "Blake might be okay, me and you, we're okay, and now just Baby Sykes and all...But I think that will work out too..."

"I told you it would." He said, and I could hear the 'I told you so' smirk in his words.

"And you don't break promises." I giggled, closing my eyes once again. Being in Oliver's arms always made me feel safe and comfortable anyways, like everything was going to be okay. But, this time I felt like things really were. Everything was coming together.

_________________________________________

December marked Caroline's 5th month of pregnancy. Ironically, she was due in April, only a few weeks after the wedding. December also marked the last full month Oliver would be home before going back on tour, this time in Japan, and then in America. He would take two weeks off for the wedding and for Tom's baby, and then it would be back out on the road again until September. Part of me really loved having this 4 month break, having him around every single day for the most part, but the other part of me was starting to get selfish. I grew to be used to him with me, which would have never happened if he had just been here for a month, and then gone again.

So much has happened, as well. I had really begun to rely on him for such emotional support, and now he was going to go. But, I was still going to stay. And the problems were not going to go away.

The CD was changing inside the stereo, leaving the house awkwardly quiet when the doorbell rang. I hurried to shut off the music, and then answered the door.

"Hi, Christian."

I didn't even have to ask Tom to know what happened, he looked incredibly miserable already. "Come in." I directed to him, taking a packed duffel bag out of his hand.

He stepped in, scuffling his shoes against the welcome mat, loosing all the extra water before he stepped inside. He still looked soaked though, all the way up to his knees, the denim there considerably darker than the dry jeans covering his thighs. He shrugged off his coat, and shook it out outside the door before hanging it on the coat rack. I just watched him, his wet hair flicking tiny drops of water around the entryway with every movement he made. Finally, I took my eyes off of him, and set his bag against the couch.

He smiled weakly at me once all his outer wear was off, and sat down gingerly on the couch. "Is it alright if I stay for the night?"

I nodded, matching his weak smile. "Of course, Tom. You're always welcome."

"Where's Oli?" He asked, looking around as he took off his socks.

"Shower. Once he's out, you should take one. You don't want to catch cold."

He nodded, leaning back into the couch. "The snow is brutal this year."

I looked out the window, the flurry winter skies dropping small puffs of snow onto the already white ground.

I sat down next to him, his eyes downcast, focusing on the floor. "So..." I started, not really sure how to approach the situation.

"We aren't broken up." Tom beat me to it, muttering under a heavy breath. "We just fought...a lot. Mum made me leave."

"Carol did?" I asked, brushing a piece of hair out of my face. Tom was still looking down, as if the pattern in the wood was the most interesting thing in the world.

He nodded slowly, and shrugged. "I'm not mad about that. Caroline has no place to go anyways. She's basically moved into my room...I've had to find a new place for all my skating stuff."

"It'll be worse when the baby comes."

"Aye, it will." He agreed, finally looking at me. His eyes were dry this time, but still showed an incredible amount of pain.

"What happened?" I asked, just as Oliver burst into the living room, in boxers and a tight t-shirt. Tom's gaze instantly turned up to his brother's.

"Tom?" Oliver asked, drying his hair with a small towel in his hands. "You get kicked out?"

Tom nodded, pointing to his duffel bag. "Christian said it's fine if I stayed for the night."

"Well, of course." Oliver nodded, sitting down on the loveseat. "Did you do it?"

"Do what? Break up with her?" Tom shook his head, some stray water in his hair getting on my shirt. "No, I didnt."

"Then what?" I asked again, pushing it out of him slowly.

Tom just shrugged again. "It's all just bullshit."

I opened my mouth again to speak, but he started again.

"I told her I wasn't sure if I wanted to be with her. And she started screaming, and crying, and talking about how much stress this is for the baby and how 'her child' is going to be at a disadvantage because her parents aren't together, and I was just like 'uh...'..." He looked up at Oliver and then at me, as if checking to see if he still had our attention. He of course did. "And I was actually going to do it, to break up with her. But, she laid down on the bed all curled up sobbing crying about how much she loves me and how much she hates her life and how her love for me is the only thing keeping her alive."

"What the fuck?" Oliver remarked, cracking his knuckles subconsciously.

"She's crazy." I half reminded Oliver, rolling my eyes at him.

"Well, long story short," Tom continued again. "She told me she would kill herself, and the baby if I broke up with her. And I was screaming at her and I got mad, so Carol sent me here. Caroline has been blowing up my phone though; I think I have 13 unread texts."

"You can't go back tonight." I said firmly, as he took his cell phone out of his back pocket and showed me the blinking light, signaling he had an unread text or a missed call. "Both of you need space."

He nodded, and set his phone on the coffee table. "It's on silent, and I have no desire to talk to her. Tonight, anyways."

Oliver was surprisingly quiet, just looking down at the phone and then at his brother. He nodded softly, before standing up from the couch. "It's late." He decided, straightening his boxers out as he stood up.

Tom nodded, and turned to me. "Do you have any blankets and the like?"

"Oh, right. Of course." I smiled weakly, half running to the closet, pulling out the thickest blanket we owned and a pillow. "There's more in the closet if you get cold. I know this room doesn't have the best insulation."

Tom nodded, taking the blanket and pillow out of my arms. "Thank you. I mean it."

I just smiled, Oliver wrapping a skinny arm around my waist. "Goodnight, Baby Sykes."

He nodded, before laying down, the pillow under his head and the blanket covering his body, pulled all the way up to his chin.

Oliver pulled me into the bedroom, but instantly released me as the door shut, collapsing onto the bed, face down.

"Oliver?" I asked, obviously confused. He just laid there unresponsive as I started to strip out of my clothes, and into one of Oliver's t-shirts, my normal sleeping clothes.

"It's fucking sad, isn't it?" He finally mumbled, his face pressed into the comforter.

I sighed, sitting next to him, my hand on his back. "Of course it is."

"You know love, I was thinking..." He turned onto his back, resting his head on his hands.

"What?" I asked, our gazes locking together. His eyes were deep and dark, the color of coffee with a golden rim around the outside.

"I don't think Tom is going to be able to take care of this baby. And we cant let it go with Caroline."

I nodded, the images of Caroline trying to raise a kid making the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up.

"I was thinking..." Oliver said again, trying to approach the subject as slowly as possible, trying to gage my reactions. "What if we took care of her?"

I didn't say anything, just laid back onto the bed, so both of us were lying face up next to each other. "Like, raise Tom's baby?"

"Well, no..." He explained, taking a breath. "She'll be Tom's daughter, but I mean, he's young. He'll probably need lots of help, especially in the beginning. And then we can see if we want kids. It's a win-win situation."

"Oliver," I sighed, turning onto my side, so I was facing him. My hand began absent mindedly tracing small circles and swirls on his stomach. "I'm not really into the idea of having loads of kids, especially while you're out around the world touring. I'm not exactly good mother material. I mean, look at my mother. She's not exactly the best role model."

Oliver cringed at the thought of my mom. "But you never know. I mean, look at me and Aubrey. She took right to me. And I thought I'd be terrible with kids. And you know, you did smile a lot when you were holding her."

I just stayed silent, trying to remember if I looked any different that day at Lee's party.

"Let's just try it, love. We'll ask Tom and see what he says, and if he says yes, we'll give it a go. At least we'll be helping him out, if we decide the whole kids thing isn't for us."

I just nodded, and curled into his body, resting my head against his chest. The familiar feeling of his arms wrapped around me came next, along with the feeling of Oliver's gentle breathing up and down under my head. "Alright. We can ask."