Chapter Text
If it hadn’t been for the fact they had the same oncologist, Kira would think their new roommate was a vampire. He definitely had the stare of one. And it would explain the grey eyes.
And okay, sure, maybe being a cancer survivor didn’t automatically mean you couldn’t be a vampire too, but why wait until your tumor was gone to become immortal? Personally, Kira thought Gerry seemed like the kind of person who would be more concerned with keeping his long hair than being cancer-free.
Basil thinks he's mafia. Kira doesn't really know enough about British mafias to prove xir wrong.
It’d definitely explain the money, at least.
Anyways, Kira had met Gerry under fairly normal circumstances, if you considered crying your eyes out at a doctor’s office a normal circumstance. It had been one of the only appointments Kira had gone to alone, and they had taken that as an opportunity to freak out about how much their suffering had cost them. And then Gerry had walked up to them and said, voice soft and careful, if they needed an extra roommate, he definitely needed a room.
“I wasn’t planning on staying in America,” Gerry explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It was… a bit of a business trip, you know? But I think it’d be easier to recover with a proper flat.”
Kira had just stared, too depressed to process anything he was saying.
“We don’t have to split the rent,” Gerry added. “I can pay for all of it. Money’s not a problem for me.”
“All of it?” Kira repeated, because yes, Gerry was a strange and mysterious goth towering over them, but he had the same tired eyes as they did, and living rent-free was living rent-free.
“All of it,” Gerry said.
So they shook on it, and he told Kira to call him Gerry. No last name. Just… Gerry. Gerry the strange, quiet goth without a sleep schedule now living in Kira’s apartment.
The point is, Gerry’s kind of weird. And they’re not even talking about the piercings, or the spiked bracelets, or even the uncomfortable amount of eye contact he sometimes makes—if that was weird, then so were they. There was just something going on with him. Kira could tell that much, even if they’re not sure what that something was.
They’re sure he would make a lot more sense in context, but that’s context they don’t have. All Kira knows is that Gerry keeps coming in and out of their apartment at odd hours of the day, and some of that has to be doctor’s appointments and physical therapy because Kira’s pretty sure that he had like, just had surgery, but he’s definitely still leaving more than he should. They get the sense that maybe his tumor had festered long enough that Gerry was a little surprised he had lived through it, but all that apparently hadn’t taught him any lessons in taking care of himself.
He stays up way too late listening to music, too. Kira’s tumor is technically more in their ear than their brain, and even with one working ear, they’ve always liked loud music. It’s not really a problem as long as he turns the volume down when Basil asks, which he does.
But no one who listens to Mastodon that loudly is having a good time that late at night, and Kira has no idea what to do about that. What do you do if your roommate’s obviously depressed, but you’ve only had like, two real conversations? Kira knew plenty about depression—honestly, they’re pretty sure they’re depressed, too—but that doesn’t mean they know the right way to approach a complete stranger about it, which was why Kira had just gotten him some chocolate instead of trying to talk about it. They’re starting to think maybe they should pester him to buy a snake or something, too, since the only time Kira’s seen him awake during the day, it’s been to stare at Kira’s.
Kira loves Sweet Clementine, and loves taking her out of her cage and singing to her, dancing around the apartment as they do, but Gerry’s not really about that. He’s never even asked to hold her. He just pulls up a chair and watches the snake go about her day. Kira’s glad Sweet Clementine is a comfort, even if they don’t really get what his deal is. Like, if he’s lonely, he can just hang out with them, you know? Or Basil, though xe’s admittedly busier than Kira, what with having a real job and all.
Kira asked, once, if Gerry wanted to feed Sweet Clementine, and he’d just stared at Kira, wide-eyed, before quickly retreating back into his room, very audibly slamming his shoulder on the doorframe on the way there.
But he keeps buying Kira and Basil takeout so like, as a roommate, Kira’s definitely had worse.
It’s Basil that first asks Gerry to go shopping with them. Kira knows that xe’s mainly asking to see if Gerry will buy their groceries—which he does—but they’ve both also noticed that Gerry’s idea of groceries is more or less, like, a few cups of ramen in case he doesn’t want to deal with ordering out, sandwich stuff, and some snack food, mostly just different flavors of chips. Kira gets that he’s tired all the time and his sense of balance is terrible, but if Kira doesn’t see Gerry cook himself an actual meal soon, they’re going to force him to binge at least like, three different cooking shows just to make sure he knows something. Kira cannot stand the fact that they might be the best cook out of their roommates. Basil’s smart as hell and knows how to make a lot of great food, but xe is also, unfortunately, constantly burning toast.
“You’re not working, are you?” Kira asks, even though they’re sure the answer is ‘no.’ “So you’ve probably got a lot of time to cook for yourself now, right?”
“Won’t taste as good as takeaway, though,” Gerry tells them.
“Yeah, but you can’t, like, order takeout every day,” Kira says. “It’s expensive! And probably not healthy for you. Also, what if you get stuck inside for a few days and can’t order anything?”
“I’ve got pasta,” Gerry says. “And some frozen meals.”
“Please prove to me that you can cook at least one meal,” Kira begs. “Because I don’t think I can live with you if you don’t.”
For a second, Kira’s wondering if they’ve said too much, and that’s it, they’ve annoyed the nice goth out of living with them, but Gerry just laughs and grabs some frozen chicken.
It takes him a little while to actually get around to cooking it, but when he does, he lets both Kira and Basil try some. He makes some pretty good burritos, even if they are a bit bland.
Basil’s new theory is that Gerry’s related to, like, the Queen. Xe’s aware that they’re being super stereotypical, gosh Kira, but point is, clearly, Gerry’s got more money than he knows what to do with and no job, or any proof that he’s ever had a job, so maybe he’s just, like, the child of a duke or something.
Kira hates that that kind of makes sense, except if Gerry was that rich, he wouldn’t have to be living with them and Basil. His standards would be too high. Maybe he just won the lotto or something. Did they have the lotto in England? Whatever. Not important. Kira just thinks Gerry has too much empathy about their whole money situation to have been born rich, but Basil thinks that maybe he got cut off from the family fund for a while or something. Like, not to speculate about his personal life or anything, but he was obviously gay. A lot of parents, Basil’s included, had a problem with stuff like that.
Kira thinks they might be getting a little too obsessed with this. Also, Gerry’s nonbinary. Of course he was obviously gay.
“You know what?” Kira says. “Maybe we should just talk to him instead of writing out his whole tragic backstory.”
But that turns out to be a bigger problem than expected. Kira can’t tell if Gerry’s an open book that doesn’t realize how vague he is, or if he just doesn’t want to talk about himself. Kira would totally back off if he didn’t want to answer, but the thing is, he does, and he doesn’t seem mad, so that’s got to count for something, right?
Except he is soooo vague.
Kira asks him what he did for a living, and Gerry says, “find people, mostly,” and doesn’t elaborate. Basil takes this as a point for xir mafia theory, but also Gerry admits to inheriting most of his money, which means Basil’s British heir theory has some weight, too. And after a lot of questions without answers, Gerry mentions working with books, maybe at a used bookstore. It was hard to tell exactly what it sold, from how he described it. Kira takes this as evidence for their vampire theory, because they’re not sure what else to do with that fact.
Kira’s girlfriend Mae says that they’re both getting too obsessed, but Kira doesn’t think that’s their fault. Kira’s been taking less shifts than usual thanks to their tumor, which means they’ve been getting a lot of time to observe Gerry at home. A part of them feels like they have to watch him, though they have no idea why. The only thing to really notice is that he still hasn’t stopped staring at Sweet Clementine. Eventually, Kira gets tired of watching him watch their snake, and lifts her out of her cage.
“Want to hold her?” Kira asks. Gerry’s eyes go wide and for a second, Kira thinks he’s going to run back to his room.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” he says, hands shaking. Gerry’s hands always shake, but this, Kira knows, is a different kind of tremor.
“You won’t,” Kira promises. They bring Sweet Clementine closer to Gerry’s arms. “She knows how she wants to be held. You just have to make sure you’re ready.”
Gerry’s lip quivers. He throws off his jacket and holds out an arm.
“I’m ready,” he says. He doesn’t sound sure, but that’s okay. Kira’s not going to let him drop her.
Kira touches Gerry’s arm and lets Sweet Clementine climb from them to Gerry. He smiles at the snake as she curls around his arm.
“Getting comfortable, miss?” he asks her. Kira lets out a quiet giggle.
“You can hold her anytime, you know,” Kira says. “You’re not going to bother her. She’s a corn snake. They’re a pretty chill breed.”
“I wasn’t sure she’d want me,” Gerry says, but it’s quiet enough that Kira wonders if they should pretend they didn’t hear.
He looks peaceful, holding Sweet Clementine. Vulnerable, maybe, but that might just be because Kira hadn’t realized how burnt his skin was. The burns themself don’t look too bad, honestly. Kira might not have noticed if they weren’t watching a snake crawl up his arm. But that didn’t change the fact that there were just so many of them. What kind of life did Gerry lead, for it to have given him so many scars? And after all that, how could he still look at Sweet Clementine like she was the only thing in the world?
Kira’s getting the sense that being with Sweet Clementine is making Gerry feel a bit better. He’s starting to actually stay awake longer during the day, at least. Kira’s starting to see him when they come home, walking around with Sweet Clementine wrapped around him, though he always looks guilty when he realizes that Kira’s noticed. Kira doesn’t know what to do with that, so every time he spots them, Kira points a finger Gerry’s direction and demands he serenade her. He always does. Kira wonders how many times they need to make him sing “Sweet Caroline” before he accidentally says Clementine instead. Still, it’s nice.
Aside from the time they spend staring at Gerry, Kira has a fairly normal life. They go to work. They’ve got too many bills piling up not to.
They smile a lot at people they hate. Then ask people to repeat themselves far too much. They do some exercises that their doctor promised would help their balance, but don’t do enough to convince themself that it might change anything. Then Kira goes to temple, and prays. They pray for Gerry, too, but they don’t know his family name, so it doesn’t feel like a proper prayer. Kira’s not sure it matters. He’s probably not Jewish, anyways, but he deserved someone to have someone looking out for him.
And then Kira goes home and hangs out with Basil, who’s still trying to decide what Gerry’s deal is. Kira’s ear rings as they listen to Basil go on about what weird thing Gerry’s done today.
“I think he’s looking for someone,” Basil says. “Said something about clowns.”
“Clowns?” Kira repeats. “Gerry?”
“He said they’re dangerous,” Basil confirms.
“Clowns?” Kira says again.
“He’s worried about a circus,” Basil says. Xe’s fully aware of how ridiculous this sounds. “Says we shouldn’t go to any for the next year or so.”
“I wasn’t planning on it!” Kira says, wondering how the hell Gerry managed to piss off, apparently, every single clown.
And then Gerry starts getting really weird.
Kira’s starting to think that maybe clowns are really dangerous or something, because he’ll be gone for, like, a full week before they see him again, and when they do, he’ll be wandering around the apartment with this haunted look in his eyes. And then Basil wakes Kira up at, like, 5 AM to get rid of some beer Gerry bought. They don’t need to ask why. Bars are pretty much the only thing Pittsburgh has going for it, and they both know what kind of trouble that brings.
“I don’t think he’s drinking them,” Basil says, voice softer than a whisper. “But he just… he keeps staring. It’s making me nervous.”
That was Gerry, alright. No action, all observation. Just a pair of sad eyes, waiting to be told what to do.
Which is why they’re going to tell him what to do. Just this once.
Mae’s coming by for a movie marathon, and Kira insists that Gerry has to join them, because Basil’s going to watch too, so it’d be weird if Gerry spent the whole time in his room.
“Also, you have to meet my girlfriend, because she’s the coolest person I know and I genuinely feel bad for everyone who hasn’t met her,” Kira adds.
“Well,” Gerry says. “I guess I have to meet your girlfriend.”
They watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, because that’s been on Kira’s mind for some reason. Gerry thinks it’s hilarious. He also thinks it’s terrible.
He thinks it's funny how all vampires are evil except, like, the one guy who’s also Buffy’s love interest.
“All men are evil,” Mae says wisely. “Except the hot ones.”
“It’s a good show,” Kira defends, mainly because they had loved it as a kid. “An okay show. A show with good moments.”
Mae smiles at Kira and very lovingly places a hand on their shoulder.
“You just like that there’s lesbians,” Mae says.
“You know me,” Kira admits, sighing.
“There’s better shows out there with lesbians,” Gerry says, amused.
“Ah, but if we were watching a good show, I’d be too distracted to paint your nails,” Mae says. Gerry blinks.
“My nails?” he repeats.
“I want to try nail art,” Mae says. “Let me paint skulls on your nails. Or eyes, I guess, if that’s your thing.”
Gerry considers this.
“Do both,” he says, thrusting out his hand. There’s nail polish already on it, but it’s so chipped, it’s barely noticeable.
“I definitely get what you’re saying about the vampires, though,” Kira says as Mae uncaps her nail polish. “They’re all just kind of a bunch of jerks.”
“True to life,” Gerry says, far too seriously.
“Have you met a vampire?” Kira asks. “Like, for real? Because you seem pretty sure of that. Did you date a vampire? Was he a bad boyfriend?”
“I have too much sense to date a vampire,” Gerry scoffs. Kira and Basil look at each other, delighted.
“I would date a vampire,” Basil says.
“You would not,” Gerry tells xir.
“I would,” Basil insists. “They want my blood. I want their body. It’s perfect.”
Gerry’s look of disgust is priceless.
“Go be gay for vampires in from a better show,” Mae tells xir.
“I’m going to date the entire cast of True Blood,” Basil declares. Mae stops painting Gerry’s nails to shoot xir a dirty look.
“Don’t say things you can’t take back,” Mae warns. Then, to Gerry, “Once this dries, I’ll paint eyes on your middle fingers.”
“You understand me,” Gerry tells her.
“I understand goth,” Mae says.
They only end up finishing a couple episodes, because Gerry keeps distracting them. It turns out that he has a lot of opinions and not just about vampires. He also has a lot of opinions on demons, voodoo as a concept (misunderstood) and as a plot device (no one who used it as one actually knew what it was), prophecies, man-eating creatures, and librarians with too much knowledge about the supernatural.
Kira and Basil are overjoyed to hear all of his thoughts. Kira considers the possibility that maybe Gerry’s just weird because he’s an author or something. As a musician, Kira could confirm that sometimes artists were just like that.
“What would you change if you were writing this?” Kira asks, as Mae starts carefully painting a skull on Gerry’s pinkie.
“No monster/human romance,” Gerry says. It’s so immediate. He really hates vampires. “I mean, this one’s especially bad, but you can’t date something that wants to eat you.”
“I mean, they’re still people,” Basil says. “It’s not like they have no choice. Well, it depends on the show, I guess, but people become vegetarians all the time. Why can’t vampires?”
“No, no,” Mae insists. “He’s right. It’s a clear power imbalance.”
“I wouldn’t be able to date a vampire,” Kira says. “They wouldn’t be able to step foot into a synagogue. I don’t know how I’d cope.”
“Do Jewish vampires burn when they visit a temple?”
“Oh, no, we just turn them away. You’re not supposed to have dead bodies inside.”
So. Here’s how Buffy would go, if Gerry wrote it:
If a vampire’s unique because he has a soul, you have to make a bigger deal about it. Like, if all vampires are evil because they don’t have souls, fine. But being evil is more than just being kind of a jerk who needs blood to survive. Also, why does being a vampire change your personality? Evil people can still care about books. Bloodlust doesn’t mean that Spike suddenly can’t read. Let him write a poem about killing people. At least that would be a nice change from all Angel’s emo shit. And, oh yeah, if no vampires can feel, and Angel suddenly does; he shouldn’t like it. Extending your life like that is painful, and a little bit of guilt isn’t going to cut it. Angel should know he’s a walking corpse. Should feel it with every breath he doesn’t need to take. You want to make him a tortured soul? Make him a tortured soul.
And Buffy! What kind of secret organization expects an untrained teenager to fight for them? At least have someone scoping her out and making sure she takes karate classes before the whole Slayer thing takes effect. Yeah, sure, she was a cheerleader, so she was getting exercise, but did she even know how to throw a punch? If their organization isn’t smart enough to figure that out, then frankly, they don’t have any right to act like they could save the world. They were supposed to be able to track potential Slayers, weren’t they? So why couldn’t they actually do something about it, instead of just walking up to a teenager and going “Surprise! You’ve got a destiny you never asked for! Now it’s time for this group of adults to force you to risk your life for them!” and that’s not even going into all the terrible shit the writers put in, like, the fact that an immortal vampire was interested in a teenager and—you know what? Gerry’s getting way too heated about this, he thinks he’s going to go lay down.
Kira vows to find Gerry a good vampire show as an apology. On the bright side, though, his nails look great.
Mae: hello darling i have an unfortunate discovery to burden you with
Kira: ???
Mae: i have heard two different stories about a tall goth fending off an unknowable terror in the middle of the night and am just realizing that they may have been your roommate
Kira: okay screenshotted that sentence to send to basil & xes calling gerry our local goth cryptid and is begging to know more
Kira: continue
Mae: ok so you remember my cool coworker
Kira: yeah yeah the gay one
Mae: yeah her
Mae: she bought a book from a used bookstore and said it gave her messed up dreams and made her feel like bugs were talking to her. anyways long story short, tall goth burned the book for her, told her that she needed to spend more time with her friends and suddenly she was like, cured.
Mae: oh also i think she smelled rot everywhere? or the book was rotting in her hands? something weird like that
Kira: and let me guess she told you because she saw he was goth and assumed youd know him?
Mae: well. was she wrong.
Mae: anyways she mostly just told me because she wanted to thank him. she said she felt really helpless before he found her and thought i could help her find him again
Kira: well i’ll pass the message along. to him and basil
Kira: gerry says she can thank him by stocking up on bug spray
Mae: ffghjkl;
Mae: and basil?
Kira:
[screenshot of a conversation that reads:
Basil: bugs???? why were BUGS talking to someone? HOW were they talking to someone? what kind of buzzing do you have to hear to assume its about YOU??
Basil: wait no thats not even the weirdest part of what happened to her that she just saw gerry burn a book and went “oh, okay, everything’s good now! nightmare over!!”
Kira: its the inherent comfort in knowing someone with pretty eyeliner is looking out for you]
Mae: yeah, sounds about right
Hanukkah's coming up.
Or, December is, at least. Kira thinks it’s a pity Gerry wasn’t healthy enough to actually do anything on Halloween, because if this is what he looked like on a normal day, Kira really wanted to see him go all out. At least there was always Purim.
For now, though, Kira’s buying potatoes. They weren’t great at making latkes but the point of the holiday wasn’t to be good at things. It was to do the best with what you had. And what Kira had was a lot of spirit, some oil, and so many potatoes.
“Hanukkah’s about celebrating that we had enough stuff left over after we won a war with people trying to kill us,” Basil explains to Gerry. He had admitted to knowing near nothing about the holiday, which just means that Kira and Basil have the opportunity to explain it to him. He also seemed kind of excited at the prospect of them going a week with a constant source of fire in their house.
“Except, like, we had that stuff because G-d provided it for us. Which was real cool of them. So now we eat donuts. Gerry, buy us donuts.”
“Sure,” Gerry says. “What kind?”
“It’s not just that,” Kira interrupts. “Also, they have to be jelly. That’s the rule. But, uh. The story of Hanukkah’s that we started fighting to make sure we could still practice our religion, you know? We spent a lot of time hiding and praying in secret, and then we fought a war. And won! But we used up all of our oil, and we needed that. Because you have to keep the lights in the temples lit. And if you can’t even do that after all you fought, then what’s it for? But G-d knows we were fighting. So the oil lasts.”
Gerry stares at Kira. They look away, feeling surprisingly awkward. A trip to the supermarket was probably not the best time to start going on about how much they love being Jewish.
“And that,” Basil adds, sweeping xir arms out in a dramatic gesture. “Is the miracle of Hanukkah.”
“And here I thought it was an excuse to get presents,” Gerry says. He’s joking, but Kira can see the curiosity in his eyes. Maybe he’s not asking any questions, but Kira can see he’s interested.
“Depends on the person, really,” Kira says. “It’s not even a major holiday, and Purim’s more for gift-giving, anyways—oh, you’d like that one, there’s a lot of shouting. And, you know, espionage.”
“Personally,” Basil says. “I think if Christians get gifts this time of the year, then we, the very obviously cooler religion, deserve some too.”
“Sound logic,” Gerry agrees.
“Well, in that case, I want a new guitar,” Kira says.
Gerry falls over while they’re cooking.
Like, full out, smashes his body into the ground, and knocks a chair across the room.
“Dude,” Kira says, helping him up. “Did your legs give out or something?”
“Not my legs,” Gerry groans. Kira can feel his heartbeat through where they grabbed his wrist. It’s beating way too fast. Gerry pushes Kira away and tries to adjust himself on the ground. “It’s just… the heat’s been bothering me lately, I don’t know why. Stood too long, maybe.”
“Is your wrist okay?” Basil asks, turning off the stove. “It looks a little… dislocated.”
“It is,” Gerry confirms. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I can fix that. It’s fine.”
Kira winces.
“Hey, Gerry?” Kira says. “I think it kind of sounds like you need to go to a doctor.”
“I don’t,” Gerry says. Kira had been expecting some pushback, but not the fear in his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” Kira says. “But it kind of sounds like your body isn’t.”
“It’s always been like this,” Gerry insists. He sounds out of breath. “The falling’s new, but I know how to deal with dislocations. And it’s only been two months since my surgery, and I was… I was pretty far gone. I’m just. Still recovering. That’s all.”
Until now, Kira hadn’t realized how slow Gerry moved. Before, they would say he seemed intimidating. The slowness had never seemed like it came from exhaustion or poor health and instead, made him seem like a shark circling the water—or at the very least, a roaming zombie. Now, watching him gasp for breath as he carefully climbs into a chair, all Kira can see is an injured fawn limping towards comfort.
“Have you passed out before?” Kira asks slowly.
“I didn’t pass out,” Gerry insists. “Just got a bit dizzy. It happens.”
“Are you still going to physical therapy?” Basil asks. Xe hands Gerry a glass of water. “Cuz this sounds like something you should tell them.”
“They…,” Gerry pauses to drain the glass. “Thought it might be POTS. But it’s fine. I’m drinking water. Eating salt. I don’t need any more doctors.”
He definitely was not drinking enough water. But he was eating a lot of pickles. Kira had assumed he was just on spiro or something, because that was why Mae ate pickles, and it was the only reason Kira could think of that would make someone want to drink pickle juice, which they had seen Gerry do several times.
“Oh man,” Basil says. “You sure you’re drinking enough water for that?”
“I am,” Gerry insists.
“What’s POTS?” Kira asks.
“It’s kind of just like, your nervous system getting messed up?” Basil says. “Some people just develop it because bodies like to give you fun surprises, but since it has to do with blood flow to the brain, it can kind of just happen if you get a serious injury, or a major surgery. Basically what happens is it gets super hard to do too much exercise, or to stand up suddenly, or keep standing. You know, anything that deals with blood flow.”
“Oh,” Kira says. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Not a lot of people have,” Basil says. “I just know because I’m cool, and having arthritis means I hear about a lot of other chronic illnesses. Kira, you probably don’t have to worry about it. You’d have to be kind of unlucky to get it, even if you did get surgery.”
Kira and Basil both slowly turn back to Gerry. He doesn’t look happy.
“You should probably go to a doctor,” Basil tells him.
“I should do a lot of things,” Gerry says.
“Yeah,” Basil agrees. “But you really should go see a doctor.”
“You know, we could come with you,” Kira adds. “You don’t have to go alone just because you’re an adult.”
“You’d come with me?” Gerry says, and Kira can tell from his frown that what he’s really asking is why?
“Sure,” Kira says. “We’re roommates. That means we’re best friends. And I show up when my friends need support.”
“And everyone needs someone to yell at a doctor for them, just in case they don’t believe you,” Basil adds. “It’s an important part of any doctor’s visit.”
“I can definitely yell at a doctor for you,” Kira agrees.
“Oh,” Gerry says. “Thanks.”
“I know you probably don’t have a lot of friends in America,” Kira adds. “But you’ll always have us. So if you need, like, anything…”
Gerry gives them a sad smile.
“Not just in America,” he says. “Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”
Kira nods, and tries not to think too hard about what he’s saying. Was that why he had stayed in America? Because the location of his recovery wouldn’t matter since there was no one at home who’d help him along with it? Kira’s parents didn’t live in Pittsburgh, and they knew that every day, it was something their parents felt guilty about. That their child was too far away for them to help. But they did help. Kira called them every weekend, no matter what, and every conversation they had made them feel loved. Kira doesn’t think they've ever seen Gerry call anyone.
Or, no, that wasn’t true.
There had been someone, in the beginning. But whoever they were, they had never answered. Gerry had never seemed surprised by that, just… resigned.
“You’ll look into it, then?” Basil asks.
“I’ll think about it,” Gerry says. It’s good enough for now. “Can you get my wrist brace?”
“Oh, shit, yeah of course,” Kira says, and they’re already scrambling to Gerry’s room. They find Gerry’s wrist splint hiding behind his pillows, of all places and watch with morbid fascination as he sets his wrist back into place. Then Kira goes back to making latkes, because Gerry insists he’s fine, and he doesn’t want to ruin their plans just because he had a little spill.
When they’re done, Gerry asks if he can eat his with ketchup, and it takes all of Kira’s energy not to go into a rant, right there. It’s not his fault he doesn’t understand. Kira’s just kind of an applesauce purist, which is why they shoot Basil a death glare when xe takes out the sour cream.
A few days later, Gerry calls his doctor and sets up an appointment. In the meantime, though, it’s still Hanukkah, so Kira makes Gerry light the candles.
“Really?” Gerry asks.
“You’ve been watching us do this,” Kira tells him. “Let’s see how much you’ve picked up.”
“Also you keep making jokes about setting things on fire, so we want to give you a healthier outlet,” Basil adds. Gerry laughs at that.
“How do you know I’m joking?” Gerry asks.
“Wishful thinking,” Kira says. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. You just seemed interested. I thought you could give it a shot.”
Gerry tilts his head.
“I guess I am,” he admits. “My mum was kind of Christian, but she was more into… well, she was more occult. Liked thinking of herself as the village witch. I learned a lot about monsters, but not so much about anything out there that’d actually want to help. And you both look really happy, when you do this. Not really something I associate with rituals. So I guess the whole thing’s kind of new to me.”
“Well, if you want to learn more, you can always ask,” Basil says. “Personally, I’ve always really liked Hanukkah, even if it’s not a really big deal. When I was a kid, my parents always sent me to bed before the candles burnt down, so I never actually knew how long the flames lasted. It was fun to pretend they could have been burning all night.”
“Sounds nice,” Gerry says.
“But it’s not something you’ve felt, is it?” Basil asks. Gerry shakes his head.
“The last time that I thought something was going to burn forever, I ended up in A&E,” Gerry says, gesturing to some of his burn scars. Basil winces, but Kira can’t stop themself from laughing. Gerry grins.
“So you’re not too big on being ‘kind of Christian,’ I’m guessing,” Kira says.
“Not the kind Mum was, for sure,” Gerry tells them. He considers it, for a moment, then glances down at the eye tattoos on his hands. “I think I’m an Atheist.”
“Well, hey,” Kira says, fully aware he was making some joke they didn’t understand. “That’s fine, too. Everyone needs a shabbos goy.”
Before Kira knows it, the holidays are over, and they're back on track for the mafia theory, because Basil saw Gerry getting lunch with the scariest woman alive and an older man. Both English, too, and the woman even had a scar over one eye. Basil hadn’t heard what Gerry had said, but the woman had given him a thick pile of cash as a result and smiled. Then they noticed Basil, who was heading back to work after getting xirself a coffee and had just wanted to say hi to Gerry. The way the woman stared made Basil’s blood run cold. Like the only reason she hadn’t started hunting xir for sport was because she wasn’t sure xe’d be worth the effort. Then Gerry turned, too, and smiled. Like he knew this too, and would make sure that wouldn’t happen. Then he turned back to the woman.
“That’s no one,” Gerry said, voice cold. “A roommate. None of your concern.”
“Bit softer than some of your regular crowd,” the old man commented.
“And unaware,” Gerry agreed. “Unmarked. No one you’d be interested in.”
The woman laughed at that.
“Suppose not,” she agreed. “We’ll keep in touch.”
And then they left.
“You don’t want to know them,” Gerry said, before Basil could ask.
“Yeah, probably,” Basil agreed. Xe had no idea what else to say. “I… are you doing okay?”
Gerry blinked.
“Of course,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
So, Basil says. Gerry was definitely raised by the mob. That was the only explanation why he was so chill about whatever the hell that was.
“I think he’s in some really deep shit, Kira,” Basil tells them. Xe looks genuinely terrified. “Maybe it’s not the mob, but… Those weren’t good people. They were dangerous. And they trusted Gerry. That’s… not a good sign.”
“He’s not bad,” Kira insists. “Not our Gerry.”
“When did he become our Gerry?” Basil asks with a laugh. “Yeah, he’s our friend, but that doesn’t mean we know him.”
Kira knew enough, though. Knew that he was tired and sad and trying his best to survive, just like them. Knew that he loved snakes and metal and had very specific tastes in literature. What else was there to know? The past? Kira rarely asked their friends about their lives, before Kira was in it. They didn’t like thinking about their own past, so what gave them the right pry into anyone else’s? All they needed was the context for who their friends were now. Whatever else happened wasn’t their business. Kira had met Basil in high school, and they had been xir only friend. They weren’t interested in finding out what things were like for Basil, before Kira had taken it upon themself to scare off xir bullies and let xir stay over when xe fought with xir parents. It wasn’t like they couldn’t guess. You could learn a lot about someone from how they came into your life, and from asking the right questions. “Are you dangerous?” is not the right question to ask Gerry. “Are you in a gang?” is even worse. The right questions were, “Are you safe? Is everyone you talk to so full of sharp edges? Is it lonely, living like that? Is that why you came here? Was it really a coincidence we met? Do you want my company, or do you just need to hold my snake?”
Because the thing about Gerry is, he’s the only one who gets it.
Kira doesn’t know a lot of people with cancer. Doesn’t know a lot of people who have survived a brain tumor, of all things. And they know they’re lucky. Acoustic neuromatic tumors are rarely deadly, and they grow slow. But that just means Kira has to keep waiting. The tumor’s too small for surgery, but it’s big enough for chemo. And chemo doesn’t just make Kira feel tired. It makes them feel small. Even if their tumor isn’t growing that fast, Kira can feel it’s still hungry. It’s eating up all their money and free time and the pressure of it all makes Kira feel like they’re about to choke.
They know, logically, that they’ll probably be fine, but sometimes they have dreams where their tumor keeps growing until it squeezes against Kira’s skin. They close their eyes, and they can feel it grow down from their skull, turning their body into a garden of tumors and pain, taking up space that should have been for Kira , and stretching them out until the only thing they can do is retreat into a corner of a skin that used to belong to them.
The fact that it’s all in their head doesn’t make them feel much better. Like, obviously it’s in their head. Most of Kira’s problems were. That doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt.
Kira asks Gerry about the people Basil saw him with, because they promised Basil they would, but they don’t bring up the money exchanged.
“They were looking for something. Needed help finding it,” Gerry says. Then, “Don’t find them. They’re nothing but trouble.”
“But it’s fine for you?” Kira asks. Gerry smiles.
“I’m nothing but trouble, too,” he says.
The year ends without much recognition.
Basil’s invited to a party, but blows it off to have a movie marathon with Mae, Kira, and Gerry. Originally, the plan was that they were all supposed to be movies from the past year, but Gerry says he hasn’t watched any movies all year so he just picks a comedy from a couple years back. Kira had not expected Gerry to enjoy comedies, but judging from the way he zoned out during Mae’s pick, Kira thinks he just might find them a bit more unpredictable than horror.
Also, Basil resolves to start learning Ladino. Mae’s New Year’s resolution is just to get more hijab pins, which is the kind of resolution Mae always makes. She says she refuses to let the way the world turns decide how she spends her time, so she doesn’t make resolutions as much as she does make a to-do list.
Gerry seems to like that approach. He says his hair is finally long enough to dye, so first chance he gets, he’s dying it black.
Personally, Kira thinks they’ve suffered too much to make any kind of resolution, so they don’t even bother, but Kira really commends Gerry on his dedication to his aesthetic. Even though Kira would describe themself as a punk, chemo had made it hard for them to work up the energy to DIY any of their clothes lately, or to fix their undercut. The last patch they sewed onto anything was a beanie they bought for Gerry, and that had only been because he had told them he refused to be in any picture until his hair was mullet-length, at least. Kira understood the feeling, and hoped the hairclips they had attached helped.
Point is, punk definitely isn’t dead, but they do have cancer, so punk’s tired as hell, and that’s not great for creativity. Gerry though, will wear eyeliner no matter how badly he fucks it up. Same with lipstick. Basil says it makes him look really hot, which Kira will not comment on, but they do appreciate that kind of commitment. Even if he does also definitely sleep in his make-up sometimes, which can’t be good for his skin.
Gerry says the hair dye isn’t really about aesthetics, though. He says if his hair isn’t black, he doesn’t look like himself. Or, no, that’d be too normal for Gerry. Kira would get it if he’d just said it made him feel like himself. Hair dye was great for their own dysphoria. But what he says is that his hair isn’t his, if it’s not black.
“You didn’t have to wait, you know,” Kira tells him, as they watch him dye his hair in the bathroom sink. “You could have bought a wig while your hair was growing back.”
Gerry shrugs.
“Didn’t think it’d help,” he says. His shirt’s off, so Kira can see a full row of tattoos down his back, and on his shoulder blades. All eyes. Of course.
“Hey, what’s the deal with the eyes?” Kira asks suddenly. “You have them tattooed everywhere, or…”
“Just the joints,” Gerry says. “That’s the only place they need to be.”
He doesn’t elaborate.
Cool. Good talk.
“That sounds kind of culty,” Basil says when Kira tells xir.
“You think?”
“Well, he’s weird about religion, and he’s got a lot of tattoos with a very clear meaning that he doesn’t want to tell us,” Basil says, counting off on xir fingers. “Even if he hadn’t described his mom as occult, we know he has really strong opinions about the supernatural, which a lot of weird Christians do. Also, he won’t tell us anything about his family, but they haven’t shown up to help him even though he had cancer. He still hasn’t even told us his last name! And the only people we’ve seen him hang out with are ones he thinks are ‘too dangerous’ for us. Maybe they’re just all former cult members, but they’re not as… deprogrammed as him.”
Kira considers this.
“He is very weird,” they say. “Being raised in a cult would probably be super bad for your social skills.”
Basil nods furiously.
“Maybe he just has a lot of money because he sued them or something,” xe says. “You can sue cults, right? Oh man, we’ve been going about this all wrong. Gerry’s probably super normal, all things considered.”
“Does that mean, we should like… show him how to actually be normal?” Kira asks. “You know, so he has the option, if he wants it.”
“Do we know how to be normal?”
“We definitely know more than him.”
“Fair enough,” Basil says. Xe thinks for a moment. “We should take him to a museum. That’s pretty normal. Do you think he’d like that robot one?”
“Everyone wants to learn about robots, Basil,” Kira says.
Kira is certain that what they’ve entered is their apartment, but it looks wrong. The halls are too sharp, and the wallpaper too bright. There’s something… moving in the walls. Some kind of symbol, fluttering just outside of Kira’s line of sight. They don’t try to look closer. They don’t want to know. They keep walking. The closer Kira goes to Gerry’s room, the worse it gets, and by the time they reach his door, the pounding in their head is too loud for them to even think of knocking.
But Gerry’s door is open. He’s talking to someone with a laugh that sounds like a stuttering CD.
“I know this is a long shot,” Gerry says. “But they always ask about family history, and I think you’re the only thing I can ask.”
“I’m afraid Eric Delano never felt the need to give out his medical history,” the voice says. It sounds amused. It sounds like a car screeching to a stop. Kira walks closer.
“Of course,” Gerry says. A sigh. “Well. Thanks anyway.”
The thing Gerry’s talking to is person-shaped, but it’s not a person. It’s longer than Gerry and shorter than Kira and its smile is filled with angles but its long blond hair is soft and thick, like a dog, or maybe a rug.
Gerry turns to Kira and jumps off his bed.
“Shit,” he says. He turns back to his friend. “Go. They can’t handle something like you.”
A door closes. The apartment returns to normal.
Gerry claps a hand on Kira’s shoulder. It would feel incredibly reassuring, if Kira hadn’t just seen Gerry talking to something that defied reality. Was Gerry like that, too? Was that why the people he knew looked so much like red flags? Because Gerry was too dangerous for that to matter?
“Hey,” he says. “You doing alright? You don’t have to worry about Michael, it’s just a bit—”
“Hot chocolate,” Kira says suddenly. They’re already walking back towards the kitchen.
“Uh, what?”
“It’s a good day for hot chocolate,” Kira continues. “Nice and chilly. Do you want some? I think we have a couple different kinds, actually.”
“Michael won’t hurt you,” Gerry says, more firmly. “I just needed to ask it a question. I wouldn’t have let it come inside if I knew you were coming back so soon, but I promise it won’t come back.”
Kira sets a mug down on the table and sighs.
“Why would a monster know your family history?” they ask.
“Michael knew my dad,” Gerry says, as if that explained anything. “I was hoping that’d be enough.”
“There’s no one else you can ask?” Kira asks. “Just… that?”
Gerry looks down.
“No one that would answer,” he admits. “I tried before, but she…”
Gerry trails off, shoulders hunched.
“Do you want hot chocolate?” Kira asks. They had nothing else to offer.
Gerry just shrugs. Kira takes that as a confirmation and starts heating up milk.
“You were buried, weren’t you?” Gerry asks. He takes a seat as Kira looks for their mix. Kira pauses.
“Trapped, more like it,” they admit. They’ll never forget the pressure of the hollowed tree their father had to break them out of. They could barely raise their hands enough to scratch at the bark, and what little they could do had been all for nothing. All they could do was wait and cry as their father left to get a bat. An axe would have freed them faster, but of course Kira’s father hadn’t wanted to hurt them, even if Kira had begged and pleaded for escape. “It—it was suffocating. I was with my family. We were near these woods, but I wandered off, and… Well, short version, a tree ate me.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Gerry says. “It doesn’t always help, to have someone else know.”
“I never told anyone because I wasn’t sure if they’d understand,” Kira says. “But you…”
They turn to look at Gerry, trying not to look too hopeful. Whatever they thought they wanted, whatever they thought they needed —it wasn’t Gerry’s responsibility to give it to them. Kira’s trauma wasn’t Gerry’s problem. He had enough on his plate without Kira dumping on more.
“I understand,” Gerry says. He smiles at them. “And I know it’s not going to come back for you. You’re stronger now.”
“I don’t feel strong,” Kira mutters.
“You’ve found your anchors,” Gerry says. “Most people, when they go through that, they crawl out of the dirt and leave the forest. But you planted yourself. If they can’t dig up your roots, then they can’t bury you.”
“You’re making it sound so easy,” Kira tells him. They let out a laugh. It comes out more frantic than they had been hoping for. “I was a mess for years after it happened. I just… I don’t know, one day I realized I was tired of being scared, so I started celebrating Tu B’Shevat. That’s, uh—Earth day. I think I shook the entire time, but I wanted—I needed to remember that what I saw wasn’t all there was.”
“And you survived,” Gerry says. Kira shrugs. They hadn’t really seen another option.
“Is that what you came here for?” They ask. “To America, I mean. To save people like me? Dig us out of the dirt?”
“You’ve never needed me to save you,” Gerry says. Kira laughs at that. Of course they did. Maybe he hadn’t saved them from the trees, but they had needed him all the same. Gerry moving in had made everything feel more balanced, somehow. Kira thinks their apartment was meant to have three people. Sure, he hadn’t done anything, but Kira liked Gerry. He was the weirdest person they had ever met, without a doubt, but also one of the nicest. He made them feel safe. Like there was someone watching out for them. Gerry’s presence brought them a strange sort of clarity.
“So what is Michael, anyways?” they ask. “Your weird demon uncle?”
Gerry laughs at that.
“Close enough, I guess,” he says. “It won’t hurt you because it knows you’re with me, but that doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous. It’s really dangerous. You see anything like it, you get as far away as you can. Best way to save yourself is to avoid getting spotted.”
“That’s not what you do, though,” Kira says. “Avoid it, I mean.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Gerry says. “But you do. Ignorance isn’t always safer, but you’re less likely to meet something that wants to kill you if you don’t go looking for it.”
Kira hums. They pour the hot chocolate into two mugs and add in whip cream to both.
“You don’t have to tell me anything else, if you don’t want to,” Kira says, handing Gerry his mug. They wouldn’t ask, not if he didn’t want to answer. Wouldn’t ask why Gerry didn’t think he had a choice, why he went looking for things that might kill him. They had questioned enough, when they had been choked. If the world could warp itself into a prison for Kira to be trapped in, how could that world be something they trusted? Something they believed in? And how could they love a G-d, who had made the world in their image?
It had taken them years to find something that looked like a satisfying answer. What would they gain from knowing more? A new fear, on top of their already ridiculous amount of claustrophobia? The smell of dirt still makes them feel sick. Kira is sure there is a right way to ask, but they’re not sure it’s worth it. There’s only one thing they want, honestly, and that’s the guarantee of safety.
“Just… How would I escape?” Kira asks. “If it happened again?”
“Remember that there’s someone who wants you back,” Gerry says.
“Oh,” Kira says. “I can do that. That’s easy.”
It might be the easiest thing anyone’s ever asked of them, honestly. Kira knows their parents would miss them, if they disappeared again. Basil and Mae, too. Maybe even their coworkers. And their entire synagogue had searched for them, when it had happened. Kira’s sure their new temple would do the same.
Was this what Gerry had meant about roots? They hadn’t thought they were doing anything special. It was just… they had gotten lost. And that meant they wanted to make the path a little clearer, so it wouldn’t happen again. Not to them, and not to anyone else, either.
“I think I just want to keep believing that the world is good,” Kira says. “Maybe it won’t make me safe, but it’ll make me happy.”
Gerry doesn’t tell them that they’re wrong. Doesn’t say that the world is full of tragedy, and that ignoring that meant Kira was foolish, or naive, or anything else Kira had expected. Instead, he takes a sip of his hot chocolate.
“Be happy,” he tells them. “I’ll keep you safe.”
He’s staring at them with far too much eye contact. Like he can see every path Kira’s going to take in life, and he knows how to avoid all the dead ends. And not just dead ends—whatever map Gerry had, it saw the cracks in the road, too. Every rock that could make them trip, every flower poking out of the sidewalk—he could see it all.
So if Gerry says he can keep them safe, Kira believes him. Of course Kira believes him.
And they don’t look up the name Eric Delano.
It’s not really their business, anyways.