Pretty Bird

I had begged Holly for a good 20 minutes on the phone before she finally gave me the number to the rehab in Wales Blake was staying at. She told me it was unnecessary for me to know, that he would call me when he was ready. They say that meth is one of the worst drugs to detox from; it can take weeks of feeling absolutely terrible. Luckily for Blake, he had only been using the drug for a few months, and he was young. This meant that his body had a higher chance of returning to normal faster. Dopamine, the chemical in the brain that crystal meth messes with, can actually take years and years to be completely restored and function normally in the body. Blake would always be a meth addict, but he could learn to control it. He could never break his chemical dependence, but he could break his mental and emotional dependence.

I may had gotten the number, but I knew not to call him right away. He had only been there for 4 days, so he was definitely going through withdrawals. Christmas was days away though, and I wanted to make sure he at least got word that I had called him on that day. Blake was the brother I never had, the family I always wanted, the support system I thought I could rely on forever. My love for him was different than my love for Oliver, but it was still there, no matter what he did or who his girlfriend was or what he did to me. I know he didn't mean it. It was the meth talking, the meth acting, the meth taking over. All I could do was pray to God he got better.

The ceilings were low in Oliver and my flat, but we still managed to get a Christmas tree in there all the same. We barely decorated it though, seeing as though we were going to spend the actual Christmas festivities at Ian and Carol's, along with Tom and Caroline. We had just went out and purchased some colorful Christmas lights, and a few ornaments, the only ones that weren't tacky that we could find. Since all of the presents were under Oliver's parent's tree, we just let the bottom of our tree go bare, which wasn't too bad after all. It's not like Christmas was about the presents for me anyways; Oliver was the present. Blake in rehab was an amazing present. Having a new family of band members and band families was the biggest, most amazing present I could ever hope for. I had all I needed.

Unfortunately, Oliver didn't have everything he needed. Ever since the day with Aubrey in the snow, he had been talking more and more about 'our future.' He never did anything creepy, but he just would always bring up whether he would want sons or daughters more, what he would teach them how to do, how he would buy them everything they wanted for Christmas. He usually did this late at night, right before bed, when we were all cuddled up together on the couch watching ridiculous reality television. So, when he did it when we were walking up the steps to Ian and Carol's house on Christmas Eve, I was completely blindsided.

"I've decided something." Oliver said out of the blue, just as our black car pulled up into the drive of Ian and Carol's.

"And what's that?" I asked, smiling genuinely.

"I've decided I can't decide." He beamed as if he made complete sense. He turned the car off, taking the keys out of the ignition. However, he didn't open his door and step out of the car; just turned to me in his seat, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh really? Have you been talking to the Cheshire cat?" I giggled, remembering Oliver pouting the night before when I made him watch Alice and Wonderland with me.

"No!" He huffed, faking exasperation. "I've decided I don't know which I would like better, a boy or a girl."

"Well," I felt my stomach sink just a little bit, my mind desperately trying to find a way out of the conversation before it got too far. "Tom's having a girl, so the decision has been made for you, Sykes."

"No," He gripped my hand tighter, giving me a squeeze. "I mean, our kids. The kids we have...I have, with you. Think about it." He rested his head back on the headrest, still looking at me. "We can move out of the flat, maybe buy a house out here with more room, more bedrooms, a bigger garden. And we can go to Mum and Dad's every weekend for dinner and they'll play with their cousin and with Aubrey and we can have our own little family. Our own thing going on."

"Oh god," I whispered, just staring blankly at him. "Please don't tell me you want to be all suburban now too."

Oliver was unphased, clearly not aware of my obvious disliking to this subject. "Well, it's the best place to raise kids. Kids need space, and good schools."

"I like our flat. It's close to everything we need. Good bars, Tesco, nightlife. We have everything we need right there."

"Well," He tried to explain, as if I was 3 years old. "We needed those things when we bought the place, but we don't even go drinking anymore, Christian. We don't do any of that. And there are markets out here too."

"Oliver," I opened my car door, and got out. He followed, still staring at me like everything was A-OK. "What if I don't want that? What if I just want to be with you? What if I want to go on more tours with you, what if I want to just focus on my job, on my friends? What if I don't want to be in the suburbs and end up having to drive a van!?" I didn't realize by the end I was yelling, but Oliver's cringing shoulders and blindsided expression let me know I was.

"We wont get a van!" He said back, trying to smile weakly at me. He always did that, tried to make me laugh to avoid confrontation.

"It's not about a van!" I slammed the car door shut, and brought my arms across my chest. "I'm not the mothering type, Oliver! I'm a good friend, a good graphic designer, a good girlfriend, but I can't take care of anything! I don't want kids! I'm sorry I haven't said it to you all this time, but I don't! And I'm sorry!"

Oliver just ignored me at first, closing his car door too and walking up the driveway.

"Are you not going to say anything!?" I screeched, stomping my foot down on the concrete, fuming.

He just stopped in his tracks, before slowly turning around to face me. "Christian, just shut up, please."

"What!? Shut up!?" I was taken aback at first, my mind completely halted, as if I had been slapped in the face.

"You don't know what you're talking about. You're just confused."

Before I could even realize what was happening, I found myself right in front of Oliver, our bodies not a foot apart. "I'm confused?" My voice came out strained and smooth, the anger building up inside of me on overdrive.

He just sighed, and turned on his heel. "Can we just go inside?" He grabbed my wrist, and began pulling me up the drive and to their doorstep.

"No! God damnit Oliver! No!" I screamed, shaking my arm violently, trying to shake off his grip. Finally, I managed to get him off, making him stop again and turn to me.

His expression turned cold too, obviously getting the better of him too. "For fuck's sakes!" He groaned as he brought his hands up to his face, smoothing out his fringe. "Christian, just get in the fucking house!"

"No! We need to talk about this!" I stamped my foot on the drive again, my boot sliding a little on the thin layer of ice.

"No, we don't. You're being so fucking ridiculous right now, I wish you could hear yourself."

"Why, because I don't want you to knock me up and then go to fucking Japan and shit for 10 months out of the year!? No, Oliver, you're the one whose fucking ridiculous!"

He was mad now, really mad. "You can be so fucking selfish sometimes, you know." He glared, taking a step back. "It's not all about you, you know. Everyone goes out of their way to do shit for you, and you just take it."

"Yeah, Oliver? Who?" I retorted quickly, rolling my eyes.

"Me! I do!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

"That's called love! Love is all about sacrificing!"

"What have you sacrificed for me?" He spat, his lips curling into a sneer. "Tell me, please!"

I just stared at him, my mind flying through thoughts at a million miles per hour.

"See! You can't name one thing!" He laughed, turning towards the front door. "Just get the fuck inside, please. It's cold. They're expecting us."

"So what?" I asked, making him turn around again, rolling his eyes.

"What?"

"Is me having kids with you against my will supposed to be my big sacrifice in this relationship? Is that how I'm supposed to show my love or something?"

"No! For fuck's sakes, why does it have to be some kind of settling of the score with you!? I do so much shit, Christian! And now I want one thing and its like the end of the fucking world! Who got you that ring, Christian? Who took you all over Europe? Who introduced you to their friends and their parents and did all of this for you!?"

"You know what, Oliver?" I turned, walking back down the drive. "You're right. You can have it all back."

I didn't hear his feet catch up to mine until I was 3/4 of the way down the drive, about to turn onto the sidewalk. "What the fuck are you doing!?" He called, jogging to catch up to me.

"Well if I'm such a fucking burden to you, I'll just go somewhere else!" I screamed, quickening my pace.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He yelled back, taking a grip on my wrist and spinning my around to where we were facing each other yet again.

"That's what you said!" I yelled back, my arm unable to break his grip on my wrist this time. "You said that!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" He repeated, speaking softly. "You take everything so fucking personal. I didn't mean it that way."

I just stared up at him, completely exasperated. "Whatever, Oliver. I'm letting you win. Just leave me alone, please?"

"Just come inside. Let's just go inside, spend Christmas Eve with them like we said we would, and then we can go home and talk shit out." He lowered the tone of his voice too, but still gripped my wrist tight. "Come on." He said, turning around and leading me back up the drive to their doorway.

I stayed silent, completely exasperated. What was worse was the fact that Oliver was right; his parents were expecting us. And we had to do our best to put on the happy faces.

______________________________

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. I felt as if we had almost turned into Tom and Caroline, doing the whole 'not touching not speaking' thing, while Ian and Carol talked on and on about past Christmases and how excited they were for the holidays. Oliver of course somehow always misses the memo about the whole 'awkward' thing, and proceeded to put on his happy face just fine, joking and laughing and even giving wedding details. It was different though, because like I said, we didn't touch at all. Normally I would receive a loving kiss on the cheek, a hand squeeze, or something. No one noticed though, which made me breathe a high sigh of relief. Last thing the Sykes family needed was yet another brother with relationship problems.

Caroline was acting like her normal self, being the attention whore she is. Tom and I would just give each other knowing glances, something showing frustrations, while other times just rolling our eyes at some of the things she said.

After dinner, Oliver, Tom, Caroline and I all decided to sit in the living room together, the night winding down after the massive meal.

"So," Oliver said after sharing a joke with his brother. Caroline and I laughed along too, but halfheartedly. "Chris and I have a question to ask you guys."

"What's up?" Tom smiled, leaning back into the couch, obviously comfortable. Caroline sat next to him indian style on the couch, one of her hands resting on her big stomach.

"You don't have to answer now, in fact we want you to think about it. It's a huge decision." Oliver said again, his hand resting on my knee, our first contact of the night. I guess he wanted to provide a united front to Tom and Caroline. I just sighed silently to myself, bracing myself for yet another outburst. This time, from Caroline.

"What is it!?" Tom said as he laughed, smiling wide at us. "Why are you being so weird?"

"Well..." Oliver started finally, taking a deep breath. "Christian and I were thinking about how hard its going to be for you two with the baby. You know, getting up on your feet and all?"

Caroline was quick to speak first, even though Tom's mouth was open, about to reply. "We are doing fine, actually. Perfectly fine. Aren't we, Thomas?"

Tom's eyes went blank, as if I could almost physically see his stomach drop inside of him. "Uh..."

"We are." Caroline turned to Oliver and me, smiling. "We don't need your help. But thank you."

"Wait," Tom stuttered, regaining composure. "Let's hear what they have to say."

Oliver took another breath, obviously wishing he could retrace his steps and never have brought this up. "Well, we thought it might be good if we could raise her..." He winced, as if he expected Caroline to beat the shit out of him right then and there.

Instead, there was a long, awkward silence.

"You what?" Caroline spat, the anger obvious in her voice.

Oliver looked at his brother with pleading eyes. "We just think it would be the best thing, at least for at first. Until you two figure things out."

Tom looked at me with big eyes, obviously expecting my opinion. "Yeah," I faked, trying to smile reassuringly. "You guys can't live here forever. You'll need some time to at least move out, establish yourselves and all. A baby would complicate everything."

Tom seemed to buy it, placing his hand on Caroline's knee. "Hold on," He tried to reason. "Maybe they're right."

"You want to give our baby away!" Caroline turned to him, screeching.

"No I don't! Oliver is not going anywhere!" Tom explained, trying to calm her. "Besides, it could be just for a little while."

"No!" She pouted, as if she was some overgrown 4 year old. "I don't wanna!"

"Caroline," Oliver said, brushing his fringe out of his face. "We just want what's best for her."

"Her parents are what's best! She's my baby!" She rolled her eyes, before giving first Tom and then Oliver vicious glares. "I knew you were planning something!"

"What? No we weren't!" Tom exclaimed, looking at Oliver with worry written all across his face.

"You don't want this baby, Thomas!" She moaned, bringing her face into her hands. "You wanna give her away! Forget about her!"

"You could come see her whenever you want." I stuttered out, my shoulders cringing at the idea of Caroline being inside my house.

"But it's not the same!" She exclaimed, her face coming out of her hands to glare at me.

"Like I said," Oliver said slowly, trying his best to choose his words carefully. "Just think about it. We just wanted to give you guys an option."

"Well, thanks, but no thanks. My baby is mine." Caroline huffed, glaring at Oliver.

"We'll think about it." Tom said directly after her, nodding at Oliver and I. He then turned to Caroline. "We'll think about it."