The chemicals are restless in my head...

Sorry this took so long.  I'm not entirely happy with it, the ending especially, but I never am.
It shouldn't be as long before the next chapter.  I'm leaving for Dunkirk Sunday, and I *should* have plenty of time to write while I'm there.  We'll see how it goes.
Enjoy!  <33

I woke up early the next morning, Christmas morning.  I had had very little sleep, but I knew I was awake for the day.  A return to dreamland was not going to happen.  I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked over at Jared.  He was sleeping peacefully, lying on his stomach, his head turned away from me.  I smiled affectionately before slipping quietly out from beneath the sheets.

Once downstairs, I wandered into the kitchen and absentmindedly started a pot of coffee.  It was a good fifteen minutes before I even remembered that it was Christmas.  I looked into the living room and noted the absence of a tree or stockings.  The lack of decorations was something I had been fine with, but at that moment, I missed the lights, the gifts under the tree, and the distinctive smell of pine.  Christmas had been one of the few times of comfort in my life as a child; less screaming in the middle of the night, and something resembling pleasant family meals.

I blinked, forcefully breaking my train of thought, and turned my attention to the gifts for Jared that I had hidden in the closet of the guest bedroom.  I smiled to myself, knowing he would like them.  Re-embracing the holiday, I poured a cup of coffee and walked around the bar stools into the living room.  I dropped into the overstuffed chair and curled into a ball, my hands wrapped around the mug.  I needed a sweatshirt, but I didn’t want to move.  My mind may have been wide awake, but lack of sleep had still left my body exhausted.

I took a sip of the black liquid warming my hands, then tipped my head back against the armrest and stared up at the shutters closed over the windows that separated the bedroom from a view of the living room.  It was still early, but I willed Jared to wake up and come downstairs. 

Bored, I dangled a hand over the edge of the chair.  A few moments later, a wet tongue was licking my fingers.  I giggled and shifted, looking down to find Lucifer laying on his stomach and nudging my hand.  I rubbed his ears and neck before standing, knowing what Lucifer wanted.  I walked to the hall closet and pulled out a thick grey zip-up sweatshirt.   When I returned to the living room, Judas and Lucifer were both waiting by the closed french doors.  They wanted out.

Coffee mug in hand, I followed the dogs into the yard.  The cooler than usual December air was refreshing and helped in waking me up a bit more.  I looked to the lightening sky, half expecting to see storm clouds in the sky.  It was my first Christmas spent somewhere other than Buffalo where I was used to it always snowing in the winter, and the sunlight slowly creeping into the clear sky was an unfamiliar phenomena.  Not wanting to go back inside, I began walking along the wooden fence bordering the yard, examining what Jared had painted over the years.   Some things were recognizable, but many were abstract; things you knew held a meaning for him and him alone.  I was intrigued as I found new but ambiguous glimpses into the mind of the man I loved.

As I came to the end of the fencing, I searched the yard to find Judas and Lucifer to take them back inside.  When I didn’t see them, I looked towards the house.  Much to my surprise, Jared was sitting on the steps that led from the sunroom to the brick patio below, his dogs lounging on the grass in front of him.  I smiled and laughed softly at Jared’s appearance as I walked towards him.  He was in his boxers and had my fuzzy black slippers on his feet.  The only thing covering his bare chest and legs was a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders.  His hair was still a mess, and I was hoping that he would still have his scratchy morning voice. 

Reaching the steps, I lowered myself into his lap and murmured a “Good morning” against his neck.  He laughed lightly and dipped his head, giving me a light kiss.  “What are you doing up?” I asked as he stole my coffee and took a sip.

“I could ask the same of you.”

Morning voice was there.  I smiled childishly to myself before responding.  “I don’t know, just woke up and decided to get up.  Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said, bending to kiss me again, this time for longer.  In a moment of bliss, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close.  He warmly returned the embrace.  “Let’s go inside,” he said, detaching his lips from mine and shivering slightly.

I waited for the dogs to follow us inside before closing the sunroom door and tracking Jared down in the kitchen.  “Whatcha doin’?” I asked curiously, perching on a stool to watch.

“Making breakfast,” he said.

“But it’s early.”

“But I’m hungry.  And you are too.”

“No I’m not,” I said stubbornly.  I usually made it a habit not to eat before 7:00.  The earlier you eat, the earlier you get hungry again, though lord knows I was almost never on a regular eating schedule.

“Yes you are,” Jared persisted.  “I can hear your stomach from here.”

I blushed and crossed my arms over my abdomen.  “Yeah, I guess I didn’t eat much last night.”

“Why not?” he asked, a frown on his face as he handed me the blanket that had previously been wrapped around him.

“Nerves I think.  I didn’t want whatever I ate to come back up if things didn’t go well with your family.”  He shook his head and laughed like I was being ridiculous.  “Don’t laugh, I’m being serious!” I said indignantly.

“Alright, alright.”  He held his hands up in defeat.  “But now you need food,” he said and turned around to begin taking things out of the refrigerator.

“Can I help?”  I offered.

“No no no,” he said laughing.  “I think I can manage waffles on my own, and I want to make breakfast for you.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”  I gave him a peck on the cheek before pouring a second cup of coffee and taking it with me into the music room.  It had been a while since I had played or sang anything, and I was craving piano keys under my fingers or a guitar resting on my lap.

After entering, I closed the door behind me, downed the coffee, and slowly walked the length of the room.  My eyes swept over each and every guitar lined up against the wall, acoustic and electric alike.  My favorite was Jared’s black acoustic, so I lifted it carefully out of its stand, sat cross-legged on the ground, and set it in my lap.  I ran my hand up and down the frets, reintroducing myself to a lost lover.  A giggle escaped my lips as I realized that the only song coming to mind was a religious Christmas song, one I had always loved for the melody but whose words held no meaning.  I shook my head and gave in, placing my fingers on the frets.

What Child is this who, lay to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom Angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and Angels sing;
Haste, haste, to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,
The cross be borne for me, for you.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold and myrrh,
Come peasant, king to own Him;
The King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise a song on high,
The virgin sings her lullaby.
Joy, joy for Christ is born,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.

 “I missed your singing,” he said.

I flinched, surprised to hear his voice.  “Why do I never notice you standing there?”

“Because you lose yourself in the music, even if it is a…Christmas song,” he replied in mock disgust.

“Shouldn’t you be cooking?” I asked, ignoring his tone.

He paused, knowing I had him.  “Yes, but, I couldn’t resist listening.  Sing another?”

“Not right now,” I said shaking my head and getting up from the floor.  “I’m starved.  You said you wanted to make breakfast, now go make it!”  I shooed his stubborn self out of the room and closed the door again before he could say anything, laughing silently to myself.  Victory was mine.

When I was certain Jared wouldn’t be returning, I pulled out a notebook that I had stashed in the corner of the room and sat down in front of the piano.  I opened it to the fourth page and quickly read over what had been written.  It wasn’t written musically on a staff or any version of tab, it was just notebook paper, but I knew what it meant – I had written it myself.  It was chords to a verse of a song that had yet to be written, but a melody to accompany the chords had been floating in and out of my head for the past eight or nine days, and I had to do something about it.

My fingers hit the keys and immediately began messing around, trying to recreate each and every nuance of the notes playing through my head.  Frustration hit almost immediately.  It was a bad habit I had.  I had no patience when it came to creation; I wanted immediate results, instant gratification, and anything less was inconsequential.  My hands dropped from the piano to my lap and balled into fists.  If I could hear what I wanted it to sound like, why was it not translating into music?  I pushed the bench back and stood up, pacing the room.  Every time I neared the door, I could hear Jared making noise in the kitchen and fought the urge to give up, open the door, and enjoy a Belgian waffle or two.  Sure, I was frustrated, but the intelligent part of me knew better, knew the disgruntlement would pass.  Or so I hoped.  I was trying optimism, but optimism didn’t work.  I gave the piano one more try after about fifteen more minutes of pacing, but my determination fizzled out and I gave up.

When I exited the room, I immediately saw Jared.  He was standing in front of the counter, a fork in his hand, and putting on quite a comical display.  He was still wearing his boxers, but there was now a puffy white chef’s hat atop his head and a white apron tied around his neck and waist.  He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, quietly singing and humming to himself, his head tipping from side to side in time with the mystery song playing through his head.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the laughter bubbling up and crept silently into the kitchen until I was standing directly behind him, as close as I could get without touching him.

“Nice hat,” I whispered.

He immediately whirled around, fork aimed for my cheek, and I ducked quickly out of the way.

“You are one crazy motherfucker,” I said laughing.  “You want to stab your girlfriend in the face with a fork?!  She was just admiring your adorable accessories.”

“You scared the hell out of me!  I think it’s a pretty reasonable reaction.”

I rolled my eyes and took a step forward, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my body closely against his.  “Sorry I startled you,” I said, my voice sultry and sweet.

His eyes widened a bit as my words reached his ears.  “Apology accepted,” he whispered as he bent his head towards mine for a kiss.  I smiled and turned my head at the last second, allowing him only a slight brush of lips before abruptly pulling back and leaving him disgruntled.

“Waffles?” I asked, peering around his body to the waffle iron on the counter.

“Yeah, waffles,” he said, the distraction of our almost-kiss fading as the iron threatened to burn the batter waiting inside.  He quickly removed it and placed it on a plate, putting a strawberry and a tiny bit of whip cream on top before handing it to me.  “Enjoy!” he said happily, a wide smile spread across his face, and I did.

- - -

After helping Jared clean up from breakfast and spraying the can of whip cream into my mouth twenty more times than I should have, my mind wandered back to the notebook I had left sitting on the piano.  I knew Jared wanted me to play another song, but I needed him for something else.

“Hey Jare?” I said quietly, turning to face him as he dried the last dish.

“Hmmm.”

I paused and tapped my fingers nervously on the counter.  What I wanted to ask was intimidating.  I admired his musical abilities more than could ever be described and asking for his assistance was something I never thought I would be able to do.  But when he looked up at me, an unnecessary look of concern beginning to form on his face, I went for it.  “Can you help me with something?”  My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah of course, what is it?”  There was worry in his voice.

“Music,” I said after a pause.

His face brightened almost immediately.  “Anything you need love.”

I led him into the music room and closed the door behind us, strictly out of habit.  He sat down on the couch a few feet away from me and I took my place on the piano bench.  “I’ve been trying to write this song…” I began slowly.  “But I don’t know, I just can’t come up with a melody that actually sounds like a melody.  I have chords, but that’s it.”

“What do you need from me?” Jared asked eagerly.

“I…I’m not sure exactly.  Maybe just to listen?  Tell me if you hear something, anything worthwhile?”

‘I’d be happy to,” he said, sitting back on the couch and clasping his hands behind his head, relaxed.

How could he be relaxed?  I was the furthest from relaxed a person could be.  In fact, I may have been at the edge of a nervous breakdown.  But I forced my fingers to touch the smooth ivory keys.  I knew music could calm me down, the process of writing, no matter how frustrating it got.  Because even though it was intimidating, I had help now, and I hoped that was all I needed for me to be productive again.

I played through the chord progression a few times and looked over at him briefly.  He simply nodded in encouragement, so I took a deep breath and, while playing the chords with my left hand, began once again trying to pick out the melody that I could hear as clear as a bell in my head.  I lasted approximately ten minutes before getting completely and utterly flustered.  I slammed my hands onto the keys, stopping the steady chords I had been playing and startling Jared.

“Holy hell girl!”  He was no longer reclined against the back cushions of the couch.  “What happened?”

“It’s not working,” I said, shaking my head.  “This isn’t working, it’s shit.”

“You want to give it a chance?” he asked, indirectly pointing out my lack of patience.

I shot him a miserable look before nodding in apology.

“Did you ever think of making it minor?  A minor instead of A major?  It just sounds too…happy or something.”

“Okay…” I replied, sitting up a little straighter but still uncertain.

“And how about playing the right hand down an octave?  If you’re going to sing what you’re trying to play, which I assume you are…” he said looking to me for assurance, “lower fits your voice better.”

I smiled at him and moved my hand as directed.

“One more thing?” he asked, unsure if this was what I wanted from him or if he was overstepping.

“What?”

“Are you trying to play something that you can hear in your head?”

“How did you know?” I asked surprised.

He just laughed and shook his head.  “Don’t do it.  Make what you’re hearing go away, it’s only holding you back.”

I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it.  “I’ll try…” I said, my voice trailing off as I turned my focus away from Jared and back to the piano.  I closed my eyes and forced my mind to go blank, then once again placed my hands on the keys.  I started slowly, my ears adjusting to the lower octave and focusing only on the notes that each depression of ivory produced. 

I fell into a familiar rhythm quickly, one where progress was made.  I had found two or three phrases that I liked when Jared spoke.

His voice broke into my train of thought, quietly and hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure if he should interrupt.  I fell back into the present and my face lit up immediately.   “That’s it,” he was saying.  “That’s perfect.  Whatever you just played, that was beautiful.”

I got up and threw myself on top of him on the couch.  “Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” I gushed excitedly before pressing my mouth firmly to his.

“You’re welcome,” he said laughing once I had pulled back, sitting up in his lap.  “You’re not done, are you?”

“For now I am.  Now that I have something useable, you can’t hear it again until it’s finished.”

“Awww that’s not fair!” he whined.  “You owe me for helping you.”

“I do?” I asked thoughtfully, my eyes widening.  “How’s this?”  I leaned down, my lips hovering centimeters from his.  His hands had just moved up my back and into my hair and he had pulled me tightly against him when Judas barked outside the door, the noise breaking into the moment and into our solitude.

“Judas!  Be quiet!” we both heard being whispered harshly on the other side of the door.  I looked down at Jared, my eyes instantly widening in fear, my heart racing.  But Jared was laughing.

“Why are you laughing?!  There’s somebody out there!!” I whispered.

“It’s just Shannon,” Jared said, waiting for me to get off of him so we could get up.

“Are you sure?” I whispered, following him to the door and hiding behind him when he opened it.  But he was right.  There was Shannon, rubbing Judas’ ears with Lucifer waiting in line.  I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out from behind Jared and into the living room, flopping down into the overstuffed chair.  “You scared the hell out of me,” I said to Shannon, trying to conceal the laugh in my voice, but it didn’t work.

“Yeah, well, I figured you guys were……busy,” Shannon said looking Jared up and down, clearly amused that Jared was wearing only boxers.

I threw a pillow at Shannon and hit him square in the back of the head.  “Get your mind out of the gutter!” I said when he turned around and gave me a questioning look.  “What are you doing here anyway?”

“What, Jared didn’t tell you?”

“No, Jared didn’t tell her,” Jared interrupted.

Shannon was finding the whole situation entertaining, judging by the barely-contained smile on his face, and it wasn’t that Jared and I weren’t happy to see him.  I knew at least I was; Shannon was like family to me and I was always happy to see family.  But if we hadn’t heard him, he could have overheard some very personal moments between Jared and I, which is something I don’t want to have to live down for the rest of my life.

“Well, I came bearing gifts,” Shannon said motioning towards a large wrapped boxes sitting on the couch.

I glanced over at Jared and he gave me a slight nod.  “In that case, I’ll be right back,” I said and went upstairs to our bedroom to get the gift that Jared and I had collaborated on for Shannon.  It was a stack of five slim boxes, and as I carried them downstairs, I hoped I had put them in the right order when I wrapped them.  Returning to the living room, I set them down beside Shannon and nervously curled back up in the chair. 

The gift was a series of photographs that Jared and I had put together, taken by me at various shows of theirs all across the country.    I was slightly wary of giving photographs to a photographer that I respected and revered, but it had been Jared’s idea and he convinced me that the pictures were good, that it would be okay.  I had developed them in black and white, and then we had taken them to be matted and framed.

As Shannon removed the paper from the first photo, my teeth anxiously found my lip and began chewing violently until I saw a reaction on his face.  A smile appeared on his face and only grew wider as he opened each picture.  The first was of Jared, standing on a speaker at an outdoor concert and leaning down towards the crowd, the microphone extended towards screaming mouths.  The second was of himself, wearing a plain white tank top with their signature white bandanna down around his neck, his arms up and drumsticks raised above his head, an intense look of concentration on his face.  The third photograph was Tomo, coming down from a jump, one foot on the stage and hair flying above his head, his eyes closed.  The fourth was Matt, his eyes focused on his bass, his forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows drew together.   He was partially in silhouette, a spotlight shining behind him.  The fifth and final photo was of the crowd.  The Echelon, Mars Army, and fangirls alike, all with their hands in the air – the family.  It was my favorite of the five.  I had been in that crowd countless times before becoming a part of Jared’s life, and I knew the intensity of the experience and the sense of community you developed when you were there.  And I also knew the fans meant a lot to the guys.

“Did you take these?” Shannon asked, breaking the silence once he had opened and examined all five.

‘Uhm, yeah, I did,” I answered hesitantly, pulling my knees up to my chest.

“Film or digital?”

“Film actually…I prefer it, it’s just not as convenient so I don’t use it often.”

“These are stunning,” Shannon said, glancing back over the prints.  “I love the black and white.”

I didn’t know what to say.  I glanced over at Jared, but he was of no help, beaming like a proud parent due to Shannon’s praise.  He knew I had been apprehensive about it.  “Uh, thanks,” I managed to get out eventually.  “I just thought you might like it.”

“I do, I love it, thank you.  But now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”  I had assumed that the wrapped box sitting on the ottoman had been for Jared.

“Yeah, your turn,” Jared said, stepping over and setting the box in my lap.  There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he delighted in my surprise.  “It’s from both of us,” he explained, motioning to himself and his brother.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Oh of course we did!” Shannon said grinning.  “It’s Christmas!  Besides, when brother comes to me for help, I couldn’t possibly turn him down.”

“What? Help?”

“Just open it!” Jared demanded.  He was clearly excited to see my reaction, so I did as I had been told.

I removed the wrapping paper carefully, and a plain black box was revealed, so I continued and removed the lid.  Inside, wrapped in red tissue paper, was a camera.  “Oh my god,” I said dumbfounded, immediately recognizing it.  “You didn’t.”

“Yes we did,” Jared and Shannon answered in unison, matching grins on their faces.

It was a Nikon D80.  The camera I had been admiring online for a few months.  The camera that costs over $1,000.  “But it’s…expensive,” I said dumbly, looking up at Jared.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shannon said.

“It’s a gift, you’re not supposed to think about the price,” Jared added.  “It was our pleasure, because I can tell by the look on your face, that you love it.”

“I absolutely love it!”  I got up and hugged them both before lifting the beautiful camera out of the box and turning it over in my hands.  “It’s perfect.”

“Alright I’m going to go,” Shannon said, standing up abruptly.  “I’ll see you later bro.  Enjoy the camera Laura.”

“Thanks again Shan.  This is amazing.”

“Don’t mention it,” he responded with a wink before disappearing down the hall and out the front door.

“I give him five pictures and you guys give me a fucking camera?!” I exclaimed and spun around to face Jared.  “What kind of sense does that make!?”

Jared bit back a laugh and tried to answer calmly.  “It makes perfect sense.  You think those pictures mean any less to him than this camera does to you?  You have to stop thinking about price and start thinking about the thought that goes into it.  We knew you’d love the camera, and I knew he’d love the pictures.”

I sighed, realizing he was right.  But it was hard.  I still felt like we should’ve done more for Shannon.  He was family after all.  “Alright fine.  Whatever you say.”

“I have something else for you,” he said slyly.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“Jared!” I whined.  “You already gave me the camera.”

“Yeah, well, that was from both of us.  This is just from me.”

“I don’t want it.”

“I think you do,” he said laughing.

We were interrupted by Jared’s ringing blackberry.  He cursed the phone, kissed me quickly, then ran through the house trying to find it.  I collapsed on the couch on my side and looked at the camera sitting across from me on the ottoman.  I had stopped taking pictures as of late.  I didn’t know why, I just sort of stopped.  But here was my chance to start again.  How could I ever thank them enough?