Laval, Montreal

May 9th, 2008

Bouvier Residence

8 AM

Pierre yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he wandered into the kitchen of his parents’ house. Louise Bouvier glanced over from the stove where she had several rashers of bacon sizzling in a pan. A soft smile played on her lips as she watched her youngest son sink onto a chair at the table.

“Mmm, that smells nice, Mom.” He stretched, scratching at his cheek. Then rubbed at his eyes again, feeling a slight itch.

Louise noticed and frowned faintly. “Pierre, if you’ve got sore eyes you should use some drops...”

Pierre blinked. “Nah...I’ll be right, Mom. What’re you cooking?”

She grinned. “What do I usually cook on your birthday?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Bacon...as long as you leave the fat on.”

Louise clicked her tongue in mock disapproval.

He stood and walked over to stand behind her wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing gently. “Thanks, Mom...no one in the world cooks bacon as well as you do.”

“Oh, you. Flattery won’t make it cook faster...”

Pierre just smiled, but then grimaced as his eyes began to water slightly. He rubbed his knuckle into the corner of his eye. “Merde...Mom, maybe I will use some drops...where are they?”

Louise shot her son a worried look. “In the fridge, door shelf.”

He went to the fridge and pulled the door open, just happening to catch his reflection in the stainless steel surface. His eyes flashed red before going back to their normal deep brown hue.

He blinked hard just managing to stifle his surprised gasp. What the...? I think I need more sleep...

He had only been home one day from touring with his band; and he was exhausted. That had to explain why he had just seen that flash of colour. Shaking his head, he found the small bottle of saline drops and headed for the bathroom.

The door was locked; he banged on it sharply. “Jay. Get your ass outta there...” Pierre growled. A sudden flash of pain shot through his head, between his eyes. He groaned, clutching at his forehead. “Fuck...”

“Language, son.” Rèal was walking past at that moment. He forgot his reprimand a moment later when he saw the pained expression on his youngest son’s face. “Pierre? You alright?”

Pierre rubbed at his eyes furiously. “Uh...” He looked up at his father and almost instantly, a wave of cinnamon assaulted his nostrils. He frowned.

“Son?”

Pierre muttered an ‘I’m okay’ under his breath and rushed down the hall to his room. Rèal stared after him then shook his head and made for the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Pierre shut himself in his room leaning back against the door. Breathing deeply he glanced toward the body length mirror on the wall. Meeting the bemused stare his reflection was giving, he took several long breaths.

“Merde...what is wrong with me?” He smeared a hand over his face. His eyes were beginning to sting. Uncapping the bottle, he tilted his head back and squeezed a drop into the corner of his left eye. Big mistake.

Searing pain jolted him and he sank to the floor grasping at his face, moaning. “Tabernac...” Squeezing his eyelids together, he tried to massage the pain away, but that just made it worse. “Fuck...”

The pain was intensifying; his temples throbbed. Curling up on the floor, he buried his head against his knees trying to stave off the wave of white-hot pain that surged behind his eyes. It felt like a burning hot poker shoved right between his eyes into his brain.

Make it stop…make it stop…

What sounded like water whooshing through a pipe filled his ears at that instant and he groaned because all it did was increase the stabbing pain even more.

“Turn the fucking shower off!” He moaned clutching at his hair, pulling at it hard, even though he knew that was a pretty stupid thing to do.

The door to his room slammed open and Jay banged in with a scowl on his face. “What the hell is your problem, fuck’tard?” He halted when he saw his younger brother curled in a foetal position on the floor. “What are you doing down there?”

Pierre didn’t move, but absently noted that the whooshing had gotten louder. He clamped his hands over his ears and almost whimpered a response. “Make it stop…”

Jay frowned tilting his head. “Uh…make what stop?”

Pierre groaned, weakly. “The water…it’s rushing through my skull…make it stop…”

“What the fuck are you on about?” He stepped closer and nudged his brother with his left foot. “Get up off the floor…”

Pierre growled low.

Jay backed off. “Jeeze bro…” He frowned noticing sweat glistening on his younger sibling’s skin. “Uh…are you okay?”

Pierre snarled in reply, “What the fuck does it look like?”

Jay grimaced at his tone. “No need to bite my head off…”

“Sorry…” He pushed up carefully from the floor, holding his palm to his forehead. “Need an aspirin…my head feels like it’s gonna explode…”

His brother snorted. “Been partying?”

Pierre shot a baleful glare his way. “No. Got back from tour yesterday…just fucking tired…”

Jay nodded and moved out of his brother’s way. “Yeh…well there’s a full pack of aspirin in the bathroom…”

Pierre nodded and stumbled out of his room, the whooshing in his ears now thrumming deep in his body. Making his way into the bathroom, he managed to get to the vanity, but that was as far as he got before the room suddenly appeared to jerk and everything went black.

Toronto

Same time

Sunlight streamed down onto the pavement where two men slouched at a cab rank watching the early morning traffic move along at a snail’s pace.

These two men were like chalk and cheese. One, leaning against the railing that separated the cabstand from the road, was smallish with shorn dark hair, a piercing in his left nostril and soft brown eyes that darted nervously up and down the street. Tattoos of faces adorned his right arm that dangled over the railing.

The other man, much larger than the first, stood propped against a lamp pole. Ink covered the powerful arms that were folded across a broad chest. His expression was concealed behind a pair of dark aviator shades.

“Shadows, sir...” The smaller male mumbled half under his breath as he kept scanning the street, face tilted slightly upwards.

What the fuck is it now, Christ? Shadows shot a hard look at the smaller man as he leaned over the railing nostrils flaring slightly.

They were waiting outside a hotel for the rest of their gang to surface so they could head to the nearby venue: Avenged Sevenfold, their public face, was to play several shows in Toronto before embarking on a cross Canada tour.

Christ glanced at his master with a slightly confused expression on his face. “Someone’s hit puberty and not liking it very much…”

Shadows sneered. No one fucking likes it, Johnny. You try being a fucking vamp at puberty…

Johnny Christ winced at his tone. “I don’t think I want to…going wolf is bad enough…”

The larger male just snorted and looked out across the quiet street. Johnny shifted his weight shoving his hands into his pockets, glancing sideways at the man beside him.

Shadows met his look and cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?” His physical voice was deep, raspy, an ever-deadly undertone lacing through his words.

Johnny swallowed hard. “You didn’t ask me who it was…”

Shadows laughed. “Why should I? It’s probably just some random that you caught a whiff of down the street somewhere…” His laughter stopped when he saw a haunted light flash in the smaller man’s eyes. “What? Christ?”

Johnny tore his eyes away, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “It’s coming from Montreal…”

Shadows’ brow furrowed. “What? So?”

Johnny massaged his temples. “The scent’s strong, Matt...”

Shadows growled. “Don’t call me that…”

“Sorry, sir…”

He grunted. “So. Tell me. Who is it?”

Johnny bit his lip. “You remember…her?”

“Who?” Shadows turned his head to look at the smaller man, sliding his shades down the bridge of his nose, eyes narrowed warningly.

Johnny shivered and rubbed at his arms glancing across to the entrance of the hotel, wishing the guys would hurry up.

Shadows gave a low growl. Who, Christ? Remember, who?

The younger male exhaled harshly. “Serena.”

Shadows looked away the muscles in his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth. That whore...

“She wasn’t-”

Don’t. She dared to defy me.

“It was a long time ago...”

“Twenty-nine years...not such a long time, considering,” Shadows bit out harshly. He looked across the street once more. “She was pregnant.”

Johnny nodded slowly, thinking out loud. “She brought her unborn child...here...to Canada...”

Shadows blinked suddenly realising what he was driving at. His lip curled savagely. “Her son...” He’s reached that age...

Johnny bobbed his head up and down in the affirmative. “Yes sir.”

Shadows cast a cold, calculated look his way. “You have contacts in Montreal City.” It wasn’t a question. Johnny slipped a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, nodding slowly as he removed one and lit up.

His master frowned pinching his bottom lip absently. “Get in touch with them. Find the source...I wanther son.” Shadows looked toward the hotel lips pressed together in a severe line. Our son... MY son...

Johnny nodded slowly then went back to scanning the street, smoke streaming from his mouth as he sucked at his cigarette.

“Hey, fuckers!”

Johnny perked up and looked back over his shoulder; a tall lanky figure swaggered toward them, clutching a steaming cup of coffee.

Shadows’ wrinkled his nose as he pulled out of his thoughts and nodded to the figure. “Rev…are the others even bothering to show?”

The Rev smirked and tilted his head just as there was a soft pop and the two remaining gang members, both adorned with colourful tatts and matching scowls, appeared.

Shadows growled glancing across the street. You shouldn’t be doing that here…people might see…

“Ah, don’t get your knickers in a knot, Matt.” The one who spoke had flickering green eyes; they shifted shades from deep emerald to light hazel depending on his mood. Snakebite piercings adorned his bottom lip, which he sucked on lightly watching for their leader’s reaction.

Shadows glowered at him. “Shut up, V. And don’t call me that.”

“Jeeze, what crawled up your ass and died?” The other gang member, sporting a cocked fedora, smirked cruelly.

Shadows looked at him. “I’ll explain later, Syn. We need to get to the arena.”

Synyster Gates grunted. “I don’t see why we even bother with this fucking charade…”

The Rev laughed. “Because it’s a fucking ball…”

Shadows smirked, rolling his eyes behind his shades. “Syn, it’s just a front…and Jimmy’s right, it isfun.” He turned to Johnny who’d moved a little closer to his side. The larger male stroked the back of his head almost tenderly. “And pup here has a good time…”

“Oh, yeah…and of course you give a shit what the dog likes.” Synyster sneered menacingly, shooting a brutal stare at the smaller man. Johnny shrank back.

Shadows snarled. Lay off, Gates. He’s mine…remember that.

Fedora-wearing male backed off and nodded. “Of course.” He muttered under his breath, “If I’d had my way…”

Shadows shot a dangerous look at him then swung around from the lamppost and began walking away. Johnny trotted along behind him, holding his body tense not daring to look back as the others trailed behind, silent and watchful.

Notes

Thank you Kanda :D