FUCKER

June 23, 2018 Part 2

5:53pm - Mountain View

Chewing the inside of his mouth was just about all he could do to keep him from losing his mind completely as he sat there with his hands under his ass to stop himself from fidgeting. Looking over the room for the 43rd time, contemplating it. It was nice. Too nice? No... maybe not even nice enough. Nothing below 4 stars. But they weren't kids anymore. Kids who sat on the sticky floor of a 2-star motel room. Maybe 4 stars wasn't enough. Maybe the term 'suite' wasn't enough. Maybe penthouse was the way to go. But Bert couldn't afford that. And for the slightest of moments, he allowed himself to feel insecure about that. Before brushing it off with a chorus of "Fuck capitalism" in his head. If this isn't good enough, then he isn't good enough. And there is no way on this planet that Bert Mccracken isn't good enough. He has to be.

He told himself to play it cool but in actual fact, his heart was pounding in his chest. It had been a while since he felt any kind of anxiety or preparation for bad news. Bad news like all of this was for nothing. The day, the room, the view. He asked himself what the hell he was doing. Every second that went by. Every step he took further to the place he was right now. Speaking to Ali on the phone, for the first time since all this was set into motion, evoked a nauseating feeling of guilt. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have done all this. He's never been the most moralistic man on the planet, but he knows that this is wrong. He's been in the other end of this scenario before and it nearly took his life.

What he wasn't expecting was his phone to start ringing. And for a moment he just eyed the name flashing up on the screen, maybe even too scared to answer the call. But then his better instincts kicked in and he snatched his phone up before even having time to register the soreness in the bones of his hands from sitting on them. Hissing and flexing his fingers when the blood rushes back to his knuckles and fingertips. "H... hello?" He asks more gently than intended.

It was quiet on the other end at first before an even more gentle "Hey." was mumbled back. Bert could almost see the way Gerard was most definitely chewing his lip, so the younger man slid his body down off the bed onto the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, preparing himself for the worst. "What's the view like from your office?" deciding himself that Gerard was still sat there and making peace with the fact that being too scared to take action on his life is a part of who Gerard is and that he had always loved Gerard, just as he is, even when it hurt. Bert knew better than to put any more pressure on the man. Some playful, irritating pressure is fine. But this... this would be overwhelming and push Gerard away even further. Bert knew it all too well. He wouldn't be making the same mistakes as before. And as so many did before, during and after him.

Gerard was quiet, staring out his window not really looking because he already knew all too well what the answer of the question was. "The garden, birds, stone walkways that lead to quiet little spaces."

For some reason that made Bert smile. He was okay with Gerard not coming. Okay with imagining that the man has at least some place where he can feel safe. "You finally have your..." struggling to come up with the word.

"Sure..." Gerard just nods his head with a soft little smile, albeit a slightly sad one. He knew what Bert meant. "On paper anyway." adding a little scoff that made Bert frown because he understood that for someone like Gerard, even his own sanctuary can feel like a prison sometimes.

Bert wrapped his own arm around his knees, breathing slowly and swallowing thickly, trying to keep the pain creeping up into his chest at bay. All these years, in all the little windows of sobriety and every single day since those windows grew wider and wider till finally there are no more beams of alcohol to hide behind, Bert's memory of Gerard's skin is so vivid that right there on the floor of that fancy hotel suite, he could almost see it, almost smell it, feel it. But the tragedy was, that it was always just shy of it all being real. He would have to rely on memory for a time longer. Perhaps for always. Getting this close however would definitely require some form of emotional rehab once again but he would never tell Gerard that.