Ink

The only time Gerard could be free of his confines (that made him sound like a nudist) was when he was alone in his basement. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his gloves were shucked off. He was free to unbutton his shirt as far as he pleased and he could take off his socks, although he didn't, because he hated walking barefoot. A sketchbook was sitting on his drawn up knees, pencil dancing across it swiftly. His pillow and sheets were shoved to the side so he could sit against the wall on a reasonably flat surface.

He was so engrossed in his drawing that he didn't hear Mikey open the door and stick his head through. "Gee," he called quietly, a small frown on his face, "it's time."

Panic flew through Gerard. Not only did he know what those words meant, but he knew exactly what they entailed. It always happened the same way, every time. The same disgusted look, the same disappointment and anger on his father's face, the same fear in Mikey's eyes when he was ordered to go to his room and "stay there". It was all a vicious cycle, a cycle he cowered from at every moment.

He swallowed. "Okay, Mikey," he said, standing and rolling his sleeves down, "I'll be right up." He grabbed his gloves from the floor and started buttoning his shirt to the collar.

Mikey lingered for a few moments before saying, "Love you, big brother."

A smile crept onto Gerard's face, sad and small. "Love you too, little brother."

Mikey thumped back up the stairs, leaving Gerard to ready himself. For a moment, he entertained the idea of called Frank over and having him crawl through the basement window, to comfort him when this was all said and done, but he dismissed the idea quickly. Frank had other things to do today, he knew that. His mom needed help running a bake sale at the community center. Besides, Gerard could handle this on his own just as well as he could with Frank there. He was a tough nut to crack.

With a heavy sigh, Gerard followed Mikey's path up the stairs and into the living room, where he found his brother sitting quietly in one of the two armchairs in the living room. His father was sitting next to a rather pretty woman, with curly red hair and grassy eyes, freckles sprinkled over her nose, as if a baker had dusted powder over a cake. She had intelligent eyes and a friendly smile. So far, she was Gerard's favorite out of many.

He took a seat in the vacant chair across from them and politely kept silent. He learned over the years that he should not speak to these women unless he was spoken to, and he should only answer in curt sentences that gave away little of the events that took place in the household. Gerard wanted desperately to tell the woman, to get her away from his father, so she wouldn't have to live in fear as they did.

The woman's smile brightened considerably when she analyzed the boys. "Oh, it's so nice to finally meet you boys! Your father's told me so much about you. You must be Mikey," she reached out and shook his bony hand, "and you must be Gerard." Gerard grinned hesitantly at her, returning her gentle grip. She eyed his gloves. "My name is Christi. So, what is it that your father said you need to show me, Gerard?"

Silence blanketed the room. Gerard swallowed harshly, tugging slightly at his glove. His father nodded at him. "Um, yeah. I, uh, I have a um, disorder, sort of, I guess. It's, er,--" He sighed and pulled his gloves off, much like he did for Frank, and rolled up his sleeves.

Christi gasped and reached out to touch his fingers, retracting them before she could when she remembered her manners. "Can I...?" Gerard nodded slowly. Christi reached out again and gently touched his fingers, tracing the lines delicately. "How?" she asked.

His dad spoke before Gerard could. "We're not sure, sweetie. He's a freak of nature."

Christi's head snapped around sharply. "Johnathan!" she snapped, clutching Gerard's hand in a soothing manner. "How dare you say that about one of your own children!" She looked back at Gerard, speaking softly. "What is this?"

"Ink," Gerard muttered after a moment of stunned silence. This was turning out starkly different from how it usually went. Instead of uncomfortable silences and stares, there was a woman scolding his father for speaking lowly of him and actually asking about his condition, almost as if she wanted to understand it. This was a most pleasant surprise.

Mikey was typing away at his phone, looking up at the scene before him momentarily before typing again. His were wide, just as shocked as Gerard was. Gerard didn't know who he was texting, but it made him smile. He had a few ideas as to who it could be.

"So," said Christi, breaking Gerard from his thoughts, "care to tell me about it?" Seeing Gerard's perplexed expression, she quickly elaborated, "I'm the Chief of Medicine at my hospital. If I know more about this, maybe I could help you?"

"No one's been able to in my seven years at the local hospital; how could you?" he asked, suddenly skeptical.

She shrugged. "I don't know, but there's a possibility." She smiled reassuringly and sat back on the sofa.

So Gerard did. The two sat on the couch for hours, discussing the ink running through his veins. Futile treatments were suggested, discussions about his inner workings were exchanged, and ideas were passed around. His father grumbled and left quickly, but Mikey stayed, watching and listening to his brother intently. He wanted to help Gerard as much as Christi seemed to, but, since he knew he couldn't supply anything useful, he used his presents as moral support and informer to whoever he was texting.

Christi sighed when she realized it was almost ten. "Sorry we didn't think of anything, Gerard. I need to head home though; my cat has probably destroyed my house by now."

Gerard smiled genuinely, the dark veins in his eyes standing out against the white sharply and suddenly at the action, highlighting the iris nicely, much like Christi's eyeliner did for herself. All was forgiven.

As Gerard went to bed that night, with only one new darkening bruise from his father, he smiled again, looking forward to gushing to Frank about it the next day. He would be so happy that Gerard found another friend in someone he thought would hate him.

And then he went to sleep.

Smiling.