It was only a week later, a Tuesday, when Gert rolled over in bed to find Chase sleeping soundly next to her. Reaching toward her nightstand to check the time on her phone she instead saw a text from him: Mind some company?

There was constant sarcasm when it came to Chase and his family, as if a joke could somehow rid the teenage boy of a lifetime of pain. He was so good at pretending that Gert often wondered if the rest of their friends were ever actually fooled. Considering Chase sought her out, she had to reason that there was some truth to her suspicion.

Gert did her best not to wake Chase as she settled back into bed beside him, her phone completely forgotten on her nightstand with him so close. The muscles in his arms rippled as he clutched at the pillow he slept upon. Most of his face was buried in the soft cotton with his mussed hair dominating much of what she saw. A small smile graced his features and for a moment she forgot why he was there in the first place. To say that this was how she had dreamed of having her best friend in her bed would have been more than a lie causing Gert to grapple with the hate and love she had for these nights. He needed her, but not in the way she had always wanted.

~!~

It happened again and again, most of the time with Gert being prepared for Chase's arrival with only the occasional pleasant surprise of waking up with him beside her. She was selfish, she reasoned, considering she craved Chase's late night texts and even looked forward to the nights she heard him on the terrace, his shaky hands reaching for the door to let himself in. But she saw him more, and more importantly, she saw him alone.

Their childhood was marked Pride meetings where their group of core friends was a decision made entirely by the bond shared between each of their parents. Pride had been so busy and successful lately that there wasn't much time outside of meetings for Chase and Gert to ever get together without the others. It was trauma, Gert reminded herself, that allowed Chase to sometimes quite literally run to her. It was agony and things beyond their control that had him seeking refuge in her, with her.

~!~

Anger clouded Chase's vision, shading the home and the events he was running from as he made his way toward the expansive iron gate at the end of his driveway. The sound of the rubber soles of his sneakers hitting the pavement brought everything back into focus. It was no longer flashes of red, black, and white but purple — Gert's favorite color and the color of the pillow he would sleep on if he ever made it to her house. Some nights it was easy; the adrenaline coursing through him like fuel in his bloodstream. Relief helped too, making the feat of scaling the trellis and then pulling himself up onto Gert's balcony a simple one.

Tonight his heart was beating so quickly Chase swore it was vibrating his ears, making both breathing and hearing difficult. He was bleeding too, a fact he was only aware of because he could taste the metal on his tongue. When he wiped at his brow with the sleeve of his zip-up, that was stained too. He only knew of the first punch his father had thrown his way. Everything after that was merely detail; both propeller for and deterrent from his escape. His run had slowed by now, his lungs heavy in his chest as he turned down Gert's street.

Looking down he saw his hands shaking. His knuckles were red and there was a dribble of blood on his grey shirt. The wind his body pushed against turned the stain a rust-color but it was still discernible, just below his chin. Chase didn't have time to inspect the rest of him, though he could only assume what he looked like. All was confirmed when he pushed his way inside Gert's room. The light was on and there was the barely-there sound of music coming from her closet. When she appeared to him, Gert was light on her feet and carrying a hanger-draped blouse she had clearly been admiring. Her smile fell, convincing Chase that maybe the music faded too.

"Chase? Christ!" Gert tossed the shirt aside and went to him, immediately reaching out to touch his forehead. Chase winced, leaning back to reject her advances.

"I...fell," Chase offered. His lips curled, as if to smile. He wondered if it sounded as ridiculous as he assumed it would.

"Bullshit. Who did this to you?"

"Gert, it's—"

"Was it your dad?" she persisted as if he had never said a word.

"It's...can we just—"

"Chase!" Gert nearly shrieked. There was a pronounced crack in her voice, one that hinted at the many hidden parts of her that were also breaking.

Chase knew the tears were next, causing him to finally give in. "Yeah," he nodded, looking to the floor. He didn't elaborate. Even without his words, his presence was enough confirmation. Previously he was terrified and enraged. Still bloodied and bruised, everything about him was softer now. Standing beside Gert in her bedroom was a certain safety he couldn't really describe.

"Is your mom okay?" Gert asked quickly.

Chase blinked back into focus. Gert carried his sweatshirt in her hands and laid it on the chest at the base of her bed. Chase didn't even register her helping him slip out of it but his arms were cold now and that stain on his shirt was even more prominent without anything to hide behind. In a way he felt naked, and the somewhat pitiful look Gert gave him made Chase believe that was more of a possibility than he original realized. "Uh, yeah," he said, taking a step toward her. "He...I was the target tonight, I guess."

"Chase…" Gert was in front of him again, this time with a palm placed to his side while her fingers drifted upward, curling so she could run her knuckles over his lip. "Let me help." Her tone was soft and soothing, the vocal equivalent of a steady inhale through peppermint laced lips.

"What are you going to do?"

"Get you some ice for your face. Maybe get your lip to stop bleeding...see how deep that cut on your forehead is…"

Chase didn't response. Instead he moved slowly, reaching up to blindly feel at the slice Gert referred to and how it cut right through his eyebrow. He was shocked by his own touch, far more than hers, and was just as unsettled to find his fingers covered with blood when he brought them back down. "Shit."

"Why don't you shower?" Gert suggested. "I can throw your stuff in the laundry and—"

"Gert, I just need a place to stay."

"I know. And you can do that. After I fix you," she suggested, now sounding slightly chipper. "I don't want you getting blood in my bed." The smile she had previously forced in an effort to keep him calm seemed genuine now and it only brightened when Chase submitted to her suggestion. With shoulders willingly slumped, he trudged toward the en suite bathroom. Gert watched him go, revelling in the safety of having him here for the night and how he must have felt just as safe with her; there was something about the way he left the bathroom door slightly ajar that brought comfort to both of them. When Gert heard the water turn on, she slipped out into the hallway.

"Oh, Gert! I didn't know you were still up, honey."

Stacey stood at the top of the landing, beaming at her daughter rather unexpectedly. Her constant energy told the same story Gert had been hearing since she was little. It was likely her mother was heading back down to the basement to be with her father where the two would spend most of their night working on projects they never talked about in front of their children.

"Oh, uh, yeah…"

"How are those meds doing? They're not keeping you awake, are they? I know your father and I have been working a lot but—"

"It's fine, mom. I'm fine," Gert insisted, almost curtly. "I'm just going to get some water and then head to bed."

"Alright, sweetie. Was that Molly you were talking to?"

"What?" Gert returned, her voice raised in pitch. "Oh, uh, no…"

"I thought I heard talking."

"No, uh, podcast."

"Oh," Stacey grinned widely. "Wonderful."

"Right, so...water." Gert nodded, her hand still clutching the doorknob as if protecting what was inside. "I'm gonna go get water," she repeated, still motionless.

There was a beat of awkward silence between her and her mother before Stacey finally disappeared down the stairs. Gert was thankful to have the door behind her for support. When she exhaled she did so heavily before quickly darting down the back staircase that led directly into the kitchen. Gert made no apologies for the noise she made there, opening and shutting drawers or dropping items as she rummaged around in the pantry. Just as easily she was heading back up the stairs, her arms now full of items she deemed necessary. She dropped them on her bed just in time to hear the door to the bathroom open. The story of how her mother nearly caught them died on Gert's lips when she saw Chase emerge from the steam saturated room with only a towel on his hips. She swallowed, her eyes wide and her mouth dry.

"Do you have…" His voice trailed off as he looked down, his vision following her trajectory. "Shit…" he said, now looking at the bruise imprinted on his side.

"Yeah, shit," Gert agreed as she once again walked to him. She didn't ask or even hesitate when she was close. Instead she reached out to touch him, her fingertips gentle upon his swollen skin. It was like a constellation, a swirl of indigo and lavender lined with pin-pricks of magenta, just above his hip bone. "Chase...fuck…"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I, uh...didn't see that."

"Does it hurt?"

"Probably," he shrugged. "You had some ibuprofen in the cabinet so I took some."

"Some?" Gert blinked from behind her glasses.

"A few." When Gert didn't seem pleased with that answer, he elaborated. "Five."

"Five? Chase!"

"I can't feel my head! My lip is throbbing. Now I have this...thing! What was I supposed to do?"

"Take a shower! Like I told you! I told you I was going to help!"

Chase sighed and walked away. "Where did you put my stuff?"

Gert sighed too, pushing past Chase to show him where she'd kept the things he'd brought over last week: a bag of toiletries, extra pajamas and even full outfits on the rare chance they overslept and he didn't have time to make it all the way home before school started. She had cleared a drawer for him in her armoire and the way she opened the door and stepped back was a silent invitation for him to help himself.

Gert retreated, falling back onto her bed so she could only hear the rustling of Chase changing. Previously transfixed by the taut lines on Chase's stomach, now all Gert saw was the angry welt his father had gifted him. She wanted to fix him, and she believed that she could, but there was nothing she could do to erase any of this completely. All of this, their time spent together in secret, was temporary.

"How bad does it look?" Chase questioned as he reappeared.

Gert sat up and looked to Chase, who now wore gym shorts and a t-shirt he held up in an effort to continue displaying his bruise. "Horrible."

Chase smirked. "Thanks, I figured."

"C'mere," Gert asked simply. Her voice was small and her posture slight.

Chase was motivated by it, as if it was his turn to build her up. Gert turned around, returning with a bag of ice that she slowly placed to the welt on Chase's side. Instinctively he shied away from the chill, causing both of them to laugh, but Gert's hand soon joined his upon the ice pack, keeping it in place. Then it was a gentle, steady dance of simple steps as Gert steered Chase back toward the bed. Only a second of pressure and years of trust had Chase allowing Gert to lead, first helping him to sit then urging him to lay back on the pillows she propped up for him.

"Hold that there," she ordered, pointing to his abdomen. "I'll need it in a bit but first I need to clean your face."

"I cleaned my face," Chase gave, almost proudly.

"Yeah, I can smell my apricot scrub, genius."

Chase grinned. "Smells better on you."

Gert couldn't help but to smirk, but she hid it behind her inflated sense of authority. She couldn't let him distract her from his own pain. All she'd ever wanted was for Chase to feel and process the things that happened to him. If he could do it anywhere, she hoped he'd find himself comfortable enough to do it by her side.

"This is going to sting."

"What isssssss…" His question turned to a hiss as Gert unapologetically dabbed at his lip with a hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton ball. "Fuck, Gert!"

"What? Do you want this to heal or not?" she asked as she wet another cotton ball in the fizzy substance.

"Of course I do!"

"Aren't you supposed to be a jock? Aren't you used to pain?"

"I wasn't expecting it!"

"What? I warned you!" Gert defended as she now began to apply pressure to the cut above his eye.

"Barely!" he scoffed. "And I'm not a jock. I just...play sports."

"Seems kind of jock-y to me."

"Better than a nerd," Chase tossed back, clearly in jest.

Gert rolled her eyes and for a moment even contemplated donating extra pressure to the cotton pad on his skin. "This nerd is trying to help you so—"

Chase gripped Gert's wrists and brought them away from his face so he could hold her hands in his lap. She was manipulated into sitting on the bed beside him, tending to his wounds in a way that seemed so commonplace for them. "I know. Thank you."

Gert looked away, unable to hold his gaze when she felt so naked beneath his stare. "What did...do I want to know what happened?"

"No, you don't," Chase admitted through a laugh.

"No, I do. I do," Gert repeated as if she'd finally won an argument against herself. "What did...what set him off this time?" She used her pinky finger to place a bit of antibiotic ointment on each of his cuts.

"I skipped practice the other day. I didn't feel well and I was exhausted—"

"Yeah, because you keep making the walk from your house to mine," she teased as she carefully laid a small bandage on the cut on his brow bone.

"That has nothing to do with it," Chase swore, his voice almost begging her to believe him. "He said I'm not smart enough to get a scholarship so I need to try harder with my lacrosse because that the only way a good school would even consider accepting me."

"Chase, that's not true," Gert sighed, clearly devastated.

"Maybe it is. I don't know," he shrugged honestly. "I don't care. All I know is that my mom started to defend me and I stepped between them and the next thing I knew I was on the floor."

"Chase...god..."

"Please don't feel bad for me."

"How can I not?" There it was, the crack before the eventual break, the sound that warned of tears and always made Chase feel so helpless. "I...you're my…"

It hurt to do but Chase smirked. Watching Gert fumble was forever one of his favorite things. She was always so put together, such an active attempt at constant perfection, and yet he felt like he was the only one she yielded for. "Yeah. I know."

"Here," Gert offered, essentially ending the moment with an abrupt reminder of the present. "Keep this there," she gestured to his side where his bruise was now a bright eggplant color under the low temperature of the ice. Gert went around to the other side of the bed and when she returned, she was carrying a bag of chips, a package of oreos, and two large red sports drinks.

"Where did you get all of that?" Chase asked.

"It's my turn to bring snacks to Pride tomorrow."

"You hate this stuff," Chase commented. Even so, his eyes were glossed over in wonder as he reached for the treats and began to dig in.

Gert couldn't help but to smile. She was grateful Chase was so effortlessly pleased because it made it easier to hide her clear amusement. "So? You'll be there, won't you? You always eat all of our food anyway."

"I'm a growing boy," Chase quipped, causing Gert to laugh. "C'mon, come pig out with me."

Gert rolled her eyes. She disappeared into the bathroom and returned without her glasses or the big sweater that had previously swallowed her form. She turned off the lights and crawled into bed beside Chase, returning the smile he flashed her as he simultaneously ate an oreo and swiped through his phone. Gert didn't ask or even hint at what she wanted to do and when her head finally fell into his lap Chase set his phone down and turned his attention to her. His outstretched arm fell over her chest, keeping her close and when the sleeve of oreos was sufficiently depleted he ran his fingers through her hair. Parts of him still stung and the heartbeat he felt earlier, while quieter, still existed heavy in his eardrums but it made sense that this was where he went when he needed to escape his world of chaos. It was not the room or the bed in it that provided him shelter, but the girl that laid upon him, with her too-loud opinions and gorgeous laugh. There was just as much warmth in her smile as there was in the touches she gave when she did her best to heal him, a process she was likely unaware was still happening now.

Gert yawned, causing Chase to do the same. Wordlessly he shifted to turn off the last remaining light in the room. Gert accepted the change, even if it meant leaving him. When the room was cloaked in darkness and Chase settled further down beneath the sheets, he reached for Gert, finding her ready for what he was about to offer: an arm around her shoulders. Gert nestled into his side, even laying her cheek to his chest to hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. She draped her arm over his midsection, using the bruise on the other side as an excuse. She pulled up the cotton and caressed the skin there, feeling its heat beneath her fingers even from all the time it spent dressed in ice.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked, cutting through the moonlight.

Chase nodded, causing his chin to rub against the top of her head. "Yeah. I think so. I am now."

"I think we should tell someone, Chase. This isn't going to get better."

He finally looked to her. "I can't tell anyone, Gert. It'll ruin my life. My mom doesn't work and we'd...it'd be a mess."

"It is a mess, Chase. You all just fake it. Aren't you tired?"

"Exhausted," Chase returned effortlessly, almost causing himself to smile at the irony.

Gert tightened the grip she had upon his neck as she shifted to look up at him. Her fingers ghosted at his nape, caressing the short hairs there. "Aren't you scared?"

"Scared of what?"

"Everything," Gert suggested softly. "Because I am."

"Gert, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Chase! What if something happens?"

"Nothing is going to happen...I'm not going anywhere."

Gert put her chin on his shoulder. "I'm just scared."

"Don't be scared. I'm fine. I'm here. This is good," he assured, lacing his fingers through her own. His thumb worked in overtime, caressing her skin in the way he knew she liked.

Gert could only shake her head. She wiped away a tear before it could fall to his shirt. "You're a terrible liar."

Chase chuckled and kissed her head. "You love it."

It was delicate and lovely and for a moment Gert forgot she was crying. "I love you safe," she whispered, hoping her words mimicked his almost perfect gesture. She never felt like she could give him what he gave her, whatever that was.

"I am safe. With you. I mean that."

Giving up and giving in, Gert nestled back into Chase. "I don't want morning to come. Each time it gets harder…" Her voice trailed off, hoping he understood.

Chase looked at her. His eyes did their best to adjust in the dark where even then they were stunned by her beauty: her round cheeks and those brown eyes that were just as kind as they were vulnerable, especially when not shielded by her glasses. He could barely manage breathing so he nodded instead, swallowing down any emotion that would complicate these nights, and make the mornings Gert referred to disappear. "I think I know what you mean."


A/N: I never said it wasn't a slow burn, friends! I will say that the next chapter picks up a bit. A few of you mentioned wanting to see everyone else and you will! Very soon! But you have to review first :)

I don't make the rules…

Thanks for reading!

x. Elle