FicWad

Seven months later...

Rhythmic bass pumped through the veins of each body in a crowd of hundreds making a perimeter around SOMAs music and nightclub. The line threaded through a small overpass between retail businesses and a smoking corridor along the other side, but made an impenetrable force around the building and feeding off the sound like fiendish creatures.
Giants wearing yellow security t-shirts stood bicep to bicep at the entrance next to the ticket window which traded cash for golden stubs at lightning speed. They patted each patron down the sides and up their inseams before allowing them through the gates where the dark swallowed them. The club's energy teemed with excitement and the opening act began warming up.
Around the back of the venue, the smoking corridor could not contain the die hard fans pushing against the security railings. They strained to glimpse a familiar face, find a break in security, and just make their experience special from the kid next to them. Bouncers repeatedly fished out the persistent rebels, and threw them back into the crowd, keeping a firm guard on the tour buses behind them.
Frank, dressed for the show in his unassuming street clothes, a black and striped yellow half-sleeved shirt, teased the excitable crowd by darting between buses, fitting between roadies and then skimming by the barricades. He scribbled autographs for a few squealing girls until their frenzy became too much and security shooed him away.
Shots of pre-show adrenaline electrified his veins. Bouncing off the balls of his feet, he pranked the stage hands, sliding equipment into slightly askew positions, and changing dressing room assignments backstage. He couldn't seem to find enough things to amuse himself and fill the time before the show, energy coursing through his jittery fingers.
"Oi, Frankie!"
"Eh, Maximillian! What's happenin' big man?" Frank popped up next to a beast three times his size, and wrapped both arms around its midsection, straining foolishly to lift him. "What have you been eating, lumberjack?" Max's chest shuddered against his cheek as he chuckled which sounded more like a Packard chugging to life.
"Oh, y'know midgets like yourself."
"Motherfucker-" His fist bounced off Max's eye level bicep.
Although he didn't notice at first, Frank caught the sheepish eye of a dark young woman standing patiently behind the guard’s back. Max graciously stepped aside, and took her hand delicately pulling her forward into the undulating lights.
"And who is this here?"
"Frankie, this is Calyx. She's a local gal, and a good friend of mine who came out to see ya'll." He flashed a friendly boyish smile that made her blush immediately, suddenly nervous about the introduction.
"Ah, hey, how y'doin'?" It was difficult to find her voice, or hear his for that matter through the static and voluminous noise surrounding them, but she seemed very intent on speaking with him. Her hand lingered in his so that his attention stayed with her dark brown eyes, although distractions milled all around them. He kept glancing behind his shoulder, but always politely returning to face her.
"Really great, it's awesome to finally meet you. I've been waiting for this show for months."
"Ah, thanks, that's really nice of you to say."
"How have you been enjoying San Diego? Have you gotten to see the city at all?"
"A little. We got to walk around the hotel, but most of our shows are back to back so unfortunately we have to leave tonight to hit L.A. by tomorrow afternoon."
"That must be exhausting, but then again- touring, that must be fun,"
"Oh, it is, it's my dream come true!"
"And now you're playing the infamous SOMA, did you know anyone who is anyone got their real start on this main stage?" He laughed an infectious childlike laugh that oddly complimented his naturally deep and scratchy speaking voice.
"I know! A step up from a fucking basement in New Jersey, right? Sweet sunshine!" A vaguely familiar young man appeared from the main stage at Frank's shoulder; large bass guitar slung over his shoulder, and whispered something into his ear. From what he told him, Frank's attention clearly severed. "Its showtime! Where are you watchin' from?'
She felt a moment's hesitation to allow him to leave.
"Hey, would there be a chance, I was hoping I could talk to Ger-" He barely heard her, automatically leaning in her give her a hug goodbye. At first it was a brisk departure, but in the dark space between them something caught his attention. He held her at arm’s length, examining her belly between them protruding firm and round.
"Well-" It caught him by surprise. "How can you watch a rock show like that?" She laughed as if it was a joke, although she felt slightly amiss by it. Typically she loved shows at SOMA, where her only motive was the music but tonight it was something else. "Maxi!?" The Packard appeared from where he stood nearby watching the change over between sets. "You should watch from the side stage." Max placed a protective hand on her shoulder and assured him he would protect his delicate friend.
Calyx hugged Frank gratefully one more time, and sheepishly allowed him to roughly handle her belly. He chuckled innocently, and bounded off after the young man in glasses who handed him a strapped guitar. The house lights went dark and she was steered to a safe place behind the amplifiers. She couldn't tell the difference between her heart beating and the thump thump of the drums, but the anxiousness began in her legs and soon had her jumping with the roaring crowd below.
Electricity boomed thunderously from the amps on stage almost making it difficult to breathe. Calyx placed a protective hand on her stomach as an unnatural fluttering within began to make her nauseous. She cooed under her breath, moving her hand in circles, and the discomfort settled.
She heard Gerard reaching the stage before she actually saw the back of his shaggy black head. Again the fluttering started, but the excitement in her veins overruled it. Things were very different since she found out she was pregnant, and although finding out about the show was a rare chance at a normal night, the fear and trepidation about what she had to confront was terrifying.
The show was a great distraction though. All the men, but especially Gerard, were magnetic running the entire length of the stage, spinning, jumping, and punching to the music. He was more than charismatic, it evolved beyond a show, between him and the kids moshing in the crowd it was more like a séance. She was hypnotized and not the only one.
She fed off the sound of his voice, the twang of Frank's guitar, and couldn't get enough of the energy. It was like an orgasm building but teasing right at the peak. It was infecting the boys as well, Gerard and Frank playfully grabbing each other and kissed once during the show to the crowd’s enthusiasm. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.
The punch of the last song hit painfully and everyone was sad to hear it fade, chanting into the reverberation for more more more, but the band had nothing else to give. Trash, sweat, and blood littered the stage like the remains of a thorough lashing. It was all very satisfying.
The first minutes after the show were disorienting, everyone milling this way and that, and the fluorescent glare of the illuminated club looked peculiar. It wasn't the same place moments before. It wasn't until Max had his plate sized mitt on her shoulder to guide her back stage that she realized her aimlessness. The moment he did, anxiety and a pit churning nervousness that wasn't the baby started up within her. If it wasn't for Max's firm grip hooked onto her jostling between bodies and forms her jellied feet wouldn't have been able to support her.
They emerged through a heavy velvet divide and found the real show. To call it chaos would be to underestimate the controlled fury of man. Bodies piled on couches, crashed into tables and chairs, and stacked against walls making the horde almost impenetrable. There was an epicenter where people focused towards the back of the room and around the headlining bands.
Frank had managed to pull himself onto their drummer, Bob's, shoulders and was reaching to pull the 'congratulations' banners and posters off the filthy brick wall. It felt safe behind Max, her human wall, but it felt like the fear was beginning to remove her senses the closer she got to what, she knew, would be the turning point in her life.
"Throw a fucking trench coat on this guy and he could be my twin, eh?" Max declared, smacking Frank's hunched back, earning chuckles all around. Despite Frank being on Bob's shoulders, he was surprisingly only a foot taller than Max's head. "Although, I'd still be the good looking one." The wall of his shoulder admitted her like a gate, and although he turned to converse with Bob and Frank, Calyx’s attention snared across from them. All their voices fell away to background babble, and she focused only on Gerard’s pale round face streaked by his clammy hair, electric none the less. He puffed absently on a cigarette, respectfully leaning in and attempting to hear what people shouted at him.
It must have been akin to your ears burning, or the pull you feel when you catch someone’s eye across the room. She couldn’t break her gaze, and just as she opened her mouth to call out to him, his eyes took notice causing her to jump in her skin. He leaned in expectantly waiting for the words she choked on; instead she offered her hand shyly. His grip was smooth, warm, and unusually steady- at least to her surprise she thought, for someone who performed the show she had just seen.
Lost for words, she flashed him a nervous smile which illuminated the light bulb above his head. He nearly coughed on his cigarette but managed to hold onto it loosely with his lips, “Cal?” He clamped on her hand, and quickly pulled her into a warm sweaty hug. His breath was hot on against her cheek. “Oh my god, how are you? It’s so good to see you!”
"I'm great. You guys were fucking awesome out there!"
"Thank you, I'm so glad you're here. You have to come out with us tonight after this so we can catch up properly."
"Totally. Um, actually, can we get a chance to-?"
"What was that? Sorry, it's so fucking crazy in here." Someone shouted his name and he looked up shortly to wave his cigarette at them, "Hey, Louie! Sorry, what'd you just say?" She tried again to ask but this time hesitation caught her tongue. "Sorry I'm so gross right now!"
"No, no! It's okay," In fact, she actually enjoyed clinging to his shirt as the crowd undulated around them, he felt solid and grounded against her.
"It's really good to see you, Cal, I've thought about you a lot."
"So have I." She replied idly, whether or not he heard. However, it was time for truth to impatiently interject. The bodies around them swelled, and an individual jostled her shoulder pushing her firmer against Gerard. Her eyes, focused on his, read the clear surprise of realization dawn over his face as she felt his warm palm against the swell of her belly between them. He mouthed a curse and looked down, gently holding her at a half-arm's length and examining the mound directly. Conscious of his gaze, she rested a protective hand on their delicate ward. He was suddenly overwhelmed and pushed his dripping bangs out of his face again silently mouthing the curse again. "Can we get out of here?"
He nodded dumbly, now the one unable to speak. His speared tongue stung with the metallic taste of shock. Courage failed but necessity controlled her limbs as she took his hand in hers firmly, afraid if she relinquished it he would dissipate into the brick collage behind him. An invisible umbilical yanked at his navel, and he followed her weaving shoulders unable to hear the questions and calls following him. For Gerard reality consisted of anxiety and fear filling his mind, Calyx's anonymous back and the sensation of his hands gripping her broad sloping hips, and protruding womb from behind, knowing nestled in his hands was his own incubating kin and he sensed the affectionate warmth of it there.

Gerard had been pondering the swirling contents of his coffee for a tedious amount of time, only braving to peek up at her hand which traveled across the concavity beneath her black Bad Religion t-shirt. Calyx looked like any modern woman, youthful for her mid-twenties, more understated than usual without the majority of visible tattoos he was aware existed beneath her clothes. He read her placid face and couldn't find any hidden intentions, or contradicting expressions. In fact, although his memory of her was brief and faded he felt as if he recognized the playful way she smirked to hide the anxiety brewing beneath her skin. Her expression cracked from time to time to hide the sad pull to her eyes, the worry lines around the corners and her brow. He could feel himself making the same creases, but his heart also pounded out the tin inside his chest making an indelible racket.
"We always seen to have these kinds of moments, don't we?"
"I guess we do." He cringed at the idiocy of the statement, feeling like it was inappropriately devoid of sentiment. "I mean, I agree but I don't think we have to. At least we seem to work through them. I don't know what I mean." He surrendered and began raking his fingers through his hair, and trying to pin it behind his ears. She seemed amused by the tick, watching his hands until he gave up securing it.
"I don't blame you. Believe me; I've gone over this conversation a thousand times, planning it out word for word."
"And?"
"And what?"
"How did it go?" The smirk appeared again, defending her expression against a frown that bit at the corners of her lips.
"Awkwardly?" It was easier to laugh then, and the air lightened. A young waitress appeared at Calyx's elbow clutching three scrap filled plates.
"Can I get ya'll anything, or are ya'll sticking with coffee?"
"I'm good. Cal, anything, my treat?" Gerard offered.
"No, no I'm okay. Thank you."
"You sure, you're eating for two?"
"That expression is such a bullshit excuse, it's really more like one and a third, if he lets me have an appetite at all." Gerard choked on his coffee, catching himself respectably.
"I-it's a boy?" She looked down longingly, not noticing as the waitress slip away quietly. She bit her lip.
"Actually, I have no idea. The doctor offered to tell me three months ago, but I didn't want to know. She keeps trying to hook me into asking, but I don't know if I want to know. I still don't know what I'm really going to do about him. But I also couldn't keep calling him an 'It', and just guessing by the acrobatics-" At that moment, as if on cue, she furrowed her brow and exhaled slowly, automatically going pale as if she was about to be sick. She pushed firmly on the right side of her stomach, making small circles and continuing to breathe.
"Are you okay?" He sat on the edge of his seat, wrestling with himself if coming to her side would be too forward. He had no doubt that Calyx was being honest, the child was his, he could sense it like a magnetism in his own stomach attracted to hers, but common sense and human boundaries were short circuiting any impulse he felt.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Like I said, I am just guessing, but, if it is a 'he', he does this all the time. I was barely in my second trimester when the little bugger began playing tricks on me." The nausea slowly faded and she stopped pushing back on the intruder, but continued the slow smoothing circles. "Then again," She continued. "The doctor's told my mother that I was to be a boy until the day I was born, and surprise! Good thing she didn't buy into the whole blue and pink thing, guess I won't either just in case." Calyx was beginning to relax and speak more clearly, but noticed a silence growing between them again. Gerard watched her solemnly, his expressive face drawn tight into a serious frown. Her heart sunk feeling she had spoken too freely. She wasn't aware of how he was feeling about the situation, and she quickly chided her carelessness. "Gerard?"
"Cal, I'm so sorry." He spoke plainly.
"W-what do you mean? For what, this?" Her breath snared as he swung his chair around the table next to hers, and softly pulled her hand towards him. She was keenly aware of his rough fingers tracing the lining of her sensitive palm; it sent a nervous shiver up her spine.
"F-for not being there, for you I mean. Not being there the first time you heard his heartbeat, every time you had to wait in a hospital room alone, being home alone not knowing where I was, or even just-" He sighed, pushing forth afraid if he stopped he would lose all momentum. "I'm sorry I didn't know he existed." Tears stung at her eyes and nose sharply. He stole her breath away, speaking so plainly and truthfully. For the first time all night, the baby was still and she momentarily unaware of its presence. Gerard wasn't just speaking to a fearful mother-to-be, he was talking to a frightened young girl who had felt alone her entire life, and now not only was someone sympathizing with that pain but was apologizing for it. It was almost too much for her to bear. A few thick tears swelled over her lashes and fell down her cheeks. He kindly wiped them away with his thumbs, letting his palms warm her face. She relaxed into his touch, feeling small but comfortably cradled.
"Thank you." Suddenly, with that meek thanks Gerard felt a surge of protectiveness, mind keen and racing with idea after explosive idea. He felt he reached her, really touched her, but was also now aware of the real situation at hand. A new anxiety began to fill him, that of a father and man preserving his own in a way he had never felt. It exhilarated him to the point of jumping up excitedly.
"Calyx!" His change of tone obviously surprised her.
"W-what is it?" Testosterone pumped through him the way it did when he stepped on stage. He felt like a one man wrecking ball, unable to be contained, unable to be denied. He had only felt this decisive once in his life before, one September years ago, but even then didn't have the same sense of immediacy. Calyx was fearful of this abrupt change in him, but also intrigued. She caught herself laughing despite the alarm.
"Cal, I need you to do something with me!" He suddenly declared, leaning closely and taking both her hands so she couldn't turn away.
"Gerard, I'm not marrying you." She meant it like a joke, but could see it affect him. However, nothing could stop the freight of confidence charging at her.
"That's fine, no; you have to come with me."
"Where?" She asked flatly.
"No, I need you to come with me tonight, on the road. I'm not leaving you behind." All the color drained from her face.
"What the fuck?"
"Come with me." He tried again, this time calmer but just as assertive. His eyes didn't waiver. "I can't get out of the tour we have in front of us, but that doesn't mean you can't come along. I'll work it out any way I can, but I'm not letting you face this alone anymore. I'm going to be there for this baby and for you."
"B-but, holy shit, you can't just throw this at a person. Yeah, I want you there, I'd love for you to be a part of this with me, but don't feel like you have to-"
"Cal-" He interjected. "Caly, I'm serious. I won't be able to go on out there, knowing I've left you to deal with this on your own. I'll work it out any way I can, I just need you to say you'll do it. Look, my only break is more than four months from now, meaning-" For the first time, he put his hand on the bulge of her stomach consciously. "I would miss everything. Look, I know this is weird but that doesn't really change things. I'd be lying if I even pretended it did."
She took a moment, mind wheeling, and just stared at his hand. Although it was against her skin, she considered the swell of her belly to be an independent entity from herself and his touch felt disembodied in a peculiar way. She felt disconnected, but also guided instinctively. A voice within her blew any thought that attempted to connect with her circuitry of reason. Unable to circumvent the insanity of it all, reacting on a do-now-ask-later mentality, and reaching up to grab a hold of his hand for stability, she agreed.
She didn't have the slightest clue what she agreed to. The vague prospect of it all was disorienting, but the sheer exhilaration, the plain excitement of the adventure ahead was too infectious. She couldn't help thinking that the situation, one that she rehearsed again and again over several months went better than she even could have imagined.