Gert Yorke's bedroom, like her personality, was eclectic and definitely not typical for a thirteen year old girl. It was a mix of vintage patterns and shabby-chic victorian charm. It matched the home she grew up in, falling in line with all the other rooms full of mismatched things. Her house, unlike those of her friends, was untouched by interior decorators and fancy upgrades. It was symbolic of the family that lived inside: free spirited and makeshift.
Her bed sat in the center of the room. It was large and white and above all else, overwhelmingly inviting regardless of whether it was made or not. Its iron frame was gold but the rest of the furniture in the room, as well as the many door frames, were all painted different bright colors: fuchsia, teal, and mustard being the three original and most prominent. The walls were covered in posters of her favorite bands and crumpled up flyers from rallies and marches she attended in LA. The far wall, the one that stood devoid of interruption save an almost dramatically large circular window, was lit from above with small twinkling lights that shined down on photograph after photograph of Gert and her friends. Snapshots of Molly, Chase, Nico, Alex, Karolina, and Amy in various stages of their lives but always, always together.
But the best part of her room was the set of french doors, where on a cooler summer night they let in the best breeze from over the valley. Or, tonight, they acted as an entry point for a chaos-ridden Chase Stein to tumble in through.
It might as well have been a window with the way Chase made such a clumsy and therefore loud entrance. When he stood he felt more ridiculous than he thought was possible: Gert was sitting up in bed, a book precariously resting on her stomach and her eyes, somewhat irritated, floating to Chase from behind her glasses.
"Can I help you?" she deadpanned.
Chase expelled a heavy sigh, wiping his nervous hands on the jeans he wore. "I, uh…"
But she sensed his worry, an anxiety that overshadowed her own, and she softened, immediately going to him. "Chase?"
"I had to get out of there. I couldn't…"
She stood before him, her book long forgotten on the bed behind her. "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, well..."
"Is it your parents?" She reached out for his hands and held them in her own.
Chase only nodded. "Yeah."
"It's...it's okay. I'm...what do you need? Food? Water?"
Even deep in his own worry, Chase released a scoff of laughter as he rubbed at the back of his head, a clear sign he was formulating a plan. "I'm not a dog, Gert. I just...can I stay here?"
"What?"
"Stay," he said again, as if a reiteration gave the word new meaning.
Gert looked around. "You just came here to...why did you come here?"
"I wanted to see you," he chuckled.
"At midnight?"
"I didn't know where else to go. I thought—"
"No, of course," Gert assured, taking his hand again, this time to drag him toward her large armoire. "Here," she offered, handing him a pair of sweatpants. Chase recognized them well; they were his.
"I wondered where these had gone."
"I never returned them," Gert tried sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. "Remember that day I—"
"Slipped and fell in the mud. Yeah," he laughed — genuinely, for the first time since he had arrived. "I guess you should be happy I always keep extra pants in my gym bag."
Gert smirked. "I guess you should be happy I never gave them back."
"You got anything else of mine in there?" Chase teased, looking around Gert in an attempt to change the subject.
She recognized this tactic well. When talk of his parents came up in conversation and he steered the discussion elsewhere, Gert never seemed to be as distracted as the rest of their friends. Her gaze always lingered on Chase's and without fail he'd pass her a small grin, one meant to placate her until he could later explain how bad things were at home, all before assuring her everything was in control and he was fine. Gert never believed him but she allowed the lies; at least he told her what was going on. He never told anyone else and as far as she was concerned, they had no clue.
In the silence now it made sense that Chase had come to her, she just didn't want to think about what all of it meant. Surely it was a sign that things at home were getting worse for him. Gert did her best to ignore the other possible meaning: he was giving in and he needed her help. She shouldn't have felt so special knowing he only turned to her when things were especially bad with his father, but Gert did anyway. She'd always thought her and Chase had a friendship that transcended all the rest and the chaos of his homelife gave them an outlet to meet and discuss things without feeling guilty for excluding the rest of their friends. Or at least that's what Gert told herself; she wondered what lies Chase was telling himself or if she was merely a player in his game of survival.
"Gert?" Chase had disappeared into her en-suite bathroom but reemerged now, catching Gert off guard.
She wondered what she looked like, her hair in a knot atop her head and her legs extending out from beneath a too-large t-shirt. She spun toward his voice anyway. "Yeah?"
"I, uh, wanted to say thanks for...letting me in."
"Didn't have much of a choice," Gert jested with a small shrug. "I guess I should start locking that door." It was meant to be a joke, one Gert hoped would make Chase smile. Instead he froze, not wanting to correct her sensibility while simultaneously avoiding the undertones he was seeking. "I mean…" She quickly recovered with a step toward him. "I'll leave it open. Or you could just...text me when you're coming over."
"Yeah. Of course."
Gert sighed and padded toward her bed, sensing Chase follow behind. "We have school tomorrow so we should probably get to sleep. Here," she offered, passing him a pillow. Instead of tossing it to the ground in the way she assumed he would, Chase placed the pillow at the end of the bed. "What are you doing?" she smirked.
"I...grabbing a pillow and blanket?"
"Why would you do that? You're...oh, did you want a sleeping bag?"
Chase straightened his posture. "Did you...think I'd sleep in bed with you?"
"I...well...I mean…" As her voice trailed off, Gert felt a flush of embarrassment grace her cheeks. This was Chase. Her Chase. The boy that meant more to her than any other. She didn't know why she was suddenly so nervous, but he seemed to be amused. He crossed his arms and leaned back, waiting for her to finish. "The house has a draft," Gert excused strongly. "The bed would just make more sense. Also one less piece of evidence to discard when you leave in the morning."
He grinned. "Yeah. Definitely." But his smile fell. "Do you think your parents—"
"They don't have to know. And I won't tell them." Gert negated as she slipped beneath the covers.
Chase followed hesitantly. "You never have?"
"You asked me not to, so I didn't. No one knows."
Chase looked away and nodded. "I just thought—"
"You asked me not to, so I didn't," Gert repeated with eyes that plead for him to believe her. "I wouldn't betray your trust like that."
"I know. Thank you."
"Yeah. And with how well Pride has been doing lately, I don't know if it's...well it doesn't matter. You know how Dale and Stacey are. They'd want to intervene and I don't know if it would help. I always thought I'd only say something if you were really in danger and...you're not, right? I mean...he hasn't touched you? God," Gert breathed out, rubbing at her face, "that sounds terrible because I know how he and your mom bicker and you said it got violent that one time but—"
"Hey, it's okay," Chase hushed.
Her hands were in his now, ironically offering her support for situations he had long ago decided not to overthink. There were no easy answers, or any answers, in an abusive household. Things that might diffuse a situation elsewhere could be the catalyst for a brand new war. That's why it was easier for him to run. That's why his best friend's bed on the opposite side of town felt so incredibly safe.
"I just need you to tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? I'll...I don't know how to help, Chase."
He smiled, but before Gert could reciprocate he was leaning over to press a soft kiss to her temple. "Leave your door unlocked," he suggested, causing Gert to scrunch her nose upward in amusement. "Or just let me in next time. Just...this is enough," he gestured, looking around her room.
Gert nodded. "Okay...yeah. Of course." She reached over to her nightstand and turned off the light. The room was cloaked in darkness, making it easier for her to slide down in bed. Chase followed, even mimicking her movements when she turned on her side toward him.
"Why...why were you up?"
"New meds," she explained simply. Like his chaotic homelife, her anxiety and subsequent depression was something Gert only talked about with Chase. It seemed their secrets were secrets to everyone but each other. "The last cycle was garbage so we're trying something new but before we can do that I have to slowly wean myself off of the old meds and on to the new ones. It's miserable but—"
"You okay?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Stacey says I have to keep trying because eventually I'll find something that works and I won't be so annoying all the time."
"You're not annoying."
Gert smiled. "Thanks. But that's definitely how I feel. I...thanks for not saying anything to everyone else. I already feel like a freak—"
"You shouldn't. No one notices. You're just...you. You've always been a bit...high strung."
Gert quirked a brow. "Altogether a tame word choice."
Chase chuckled. "Well you're right. The bed is much more comfortable than the floor. I'm trying not to lose my privileges here."
Gert laughed too. But then the moment stilled, finding her reaching out to lace her fingers through his own. "They're not privileges," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I...I'm glad you came to me Chase. I mean that."
"I'm glad I had somewhere to go."
"I'll always be here for you. You know that right?"
Chase just nodded, causing his cheek to rub against the softened threads of her cotton pillowcase. "Yeah. Same." He swallowed too, making Gert think that maybe he'd say more if he wasn't clearly holding back tears.
A/N: Heyyyyyyyyy! New story! I'm not stopping Ghost Story, I just wanted to post the first chapter of this to see if there was any interest. My plan (unless this blows up) is to finish Ghost Story then come back to this one. This story obviously explores what happened before Amy died, ie. before Runaways. It's kind of a mix of a) what I think happened to create what we now know as canon and b) what my gertchase shipper heart would like to believe was also a possibility. Whereas Ghost Story focuses on Chase helping Gert with her anxiety, the focus here will be Gert helping Chase deal with his father's abuse. Thoughts? Comments? I'd love to hear from everyone!
x. Elle