Through All the Dust

I scooched around a man with a bag, smiling falsely at him while he brushed his stupid duffel against my ribs. As I sunk into the narrow seat, I groaned. I hated when strangers touched me.
“Have you good trip to the bathroom?” Lauren giggled, handing me a cup of gingerale she’d requested from the stewardess on my behalf.
“Let me tell you, puking up your soul into a toilet flying thousands of feet in the air…not such an easy feat.”
She snickered, shaking her head at me as I happily downed the entire cup of carbonation in one go. I settled into the back of the seat and tried to fight off the rapturous nausea. I wondered what everyone was up to on the buses far below us.
Lauren and I were on our way to Canada, land of the ice and snow. I didn’t know if it snowed in Montreal in October but I seriously hoped it did not. I was not adequately prepared for Winter and hadn’t packed a bag accordingly.
There was only an hour left of our flight and the anxiousness was starting to eat at me. I was worried for Brian, knowing full well how absolutely devastated he must have been when he woke up in the morning. Tonight was the first of many shows to come with Jimmy…without The Rev. I don’t think anything could have prepared us for the weight of that revelation.
After a rather blunt and callous conversation with my husband, I knew I couldn’t delay. I paid a hefty fee to switch Lauren and my flights and we hopped on the earliest flight out of Austin. It had been a long day of traveling, with two layovers already under our belts as we crossed over the U.S. border into the land of free healthcare.
“Do you think they’re alright?” Lauren asked me quietly.
I knew who she meant but I didn’t know how to answer. Of course they weren’t alright. But they were troopers and I was sure they were powering each other through. I was glad Brian wasn’t alone, despite how very lonely I knew he must have felt. If I’d felt the void left by Jimmy’s wake on my own tour, there was no way it wasn’t crushing each and every member of Avenged. All I wanted to do was to be there.
“They’ll make it through,” I said awkwardly.
“Will we?” she asked me glumly, tracing the flecks in my irises with her own.
I half-smiled, trying to be reassuring, “Yeah…I think so.”
“Are you going to tell Brian today?” she moved onto happier things.
In the week since I’d discovered my body’s betrayal, things had mellowed out. I’d kept it from Brian, figuring it was probably best revealed in person than over the phone. It was an unnaturally sentimental move on my part, but I needed to see his reaction. I needed to gauge his level of impending doom.
I’d come, mostly, to terms with my newfound state. Lauren had been chipping away at the fear until it was a crumb of the mountain it had started out as. I was slowly growing with excitement, eager to get on with things. We’d lied our way into a hospital one night, faking symptoms of appendicitis in order to conjure up some blood work and an ultrasound. It worked like a charm. There was no time to wait until I could return to California and see my own doctor for confirmation; I’d needed instant validation.
And I’d received it.
They guessed I was roughly eight weeks along, but told me I’d need to follow up with my own physician to get the required dating ultrasound booked. It went straight over my head but Lauren seemed to understand—so, I let her take the wheel. I was out of my element, Lauren was responsible to the core.
“No,” I answered slowly.
“What?” she snapped. “Why not? It’s already been a week, Blair!”
I gnawed at my lip like liver, “Today is about Brian…I don’t want to confuse that. He needs to be sad today—it isn’t like I want him to be…but he needs to be. And if I tell him now, even if he’s happy, it’s just going to confuse his man brain.”
She laughed quietly, “I guess that makes sense.”
“I don’t know much about humans,” I told her. “But I know a lot about Brian. It can wait another day.”
“He’s going to be so thrilled,” she beamed, turning her attention to the window by her side. “Life is good.”
I tuned her out with the strategic use of my iPod, channeling all things Oingo Boingo and Mr. Bungle—in honor of Jimmy and of our friendship.
I pretended that life was different, and that Jimmy was waiting for me at the other end of the line. I imagined his bouncing body, his twitching fingers, and that infectious grin. I closed my eyes to pretend that we’d be together later that night, screaming the words to our favourite songs into each other’s faces. We’d laugh and push at one another, desperately and hopelessly in love with the other’s energy. I missed my friend so much that it physically hurt.
I wrapped my fingers around the fabric hanging over the baby’s bodily nest, and found myself hoping for a girl.
I could name it James.
But I wondered if I could seriously bring myself to call anyone but Jimmy by that name…Would it mean something if I didn’t name the baby after him, though? I caught myself getting too far ahead. I still had to break the news to Brian—and survive the night without Jimmy.
I wondered what Jim would have had to say about the whole thing. He would have been beaming with happiness, of that I was sure. He would have swept me off my feet and carried me around, declaring that I was in too precious of a state to walk. That was just who he was….but I’d never get to live it. I’d never get to tell him or see him hold my child. My kid would grow up without Uncle Jimmy…and that pained me down to my very foundation.
Maybe I wouldn’t have Jimmy, but I’d always have Owen. And my kid would have Owen…which was undeniably the next best thing to The Rev himself.
I pulled out my phone, loading up the gallery to peruse and ultimately use to further my masochistic train of depression. I had to scroll way back to find original pictures of Jimmy. There were a few I’d forgotten about, and a couple that made me laugh out loud. His crookedly straight smile, the way his nose was crinkle when he got excited…I smiled to myself, for the first time feeling comfort in the grief. To lose him was to know him, and for that I could never be anything but grateful.
The jog down memory lane had eaten up the duration of the flight, and I tucked it back into the past as we gathered up our belongings and followed the cattle off the plane. We waited for our bags, making idle chit chat about how exactly the baggage was moved around. Like it mattered.
We hailed a cab and directed him to the hotel we knew the guys we staying within. We were several hours early, but decided surprises were more fun than sticking to a schedule. I just hoped that I wasn’t met with a broody, angry Brian—I wasn’t sure I could handle it. But I told myself that however he was feeling was totally justified, and that I’d just have to be supportive.
“Matt’s in room 316,” Lauren told me, checking her phone for the confirmation text she’d received from him yesterday.
“Brian’s in 319,” I told her.
She nodded, “Let’s go find them and then I’ll come back down to check in.”
“Whatever you want, Lo,” I shrugged.
She sighed loudly, “I just want to get to them, you know? Make sure they’re okay.”
“I know,” I concurred, linking my arm with hers as we made our way through the lobby and into the elevator.
We were quiet with reflection as we rode up to the third floor and stepped out. I scanned the metal sign bolted to the wall and then pointed to my left, “This way.”
Our eyes scrolled through the room numbers as we moved down the hall. Finally, we came to 316.
“What if no one’s here?” she asked me softly.
I shrugged, tapping my knuckles against the heavy door, “One way to find out.”
After a few seconds, the door swung open. Matt’s hazel eyes lit up at the sight of us stragglers, looking admittedly pathetic with our bags at our feet. I hoped I didn’t look as exhausted as I felt.
“What the fuck?” he grinned, pulling us both into his big arms. “We were just arguing over who had to go get you guys!”
“That’s nice,” I teased, letting Matt’s grip squeeze me.
“Who is it?” Zach hollered from someone behind my hunky friend.
Matt called over his shoulder, “The women!”
In a flash, I was being sandwiched between Zach and Johnny. Their tattooed arms grabbed at mine as we all fell into a relieved group hug. Fuck it was nice to see them.
“So?” I asked, peering over their heads from the tips of my toes. “Where’s my husband?”
“In his room,” Zach told me from within Lauren’s hair. “Sulking no doubt.”
Matt frowned, “We tried to get him to be with us…He wasn’t having it.”
“Sounds like Brian,” I sighed. “I’m going to go attend to that…You’re good here, Lo?”
She nodded happily, wiping at her joyful tears, “I’m good.”
I waved and took a step toward Brian’s door but Matt’s voice calling my name stopped me. As I turned, I found myself being pulled into his chest once more. I was stiff at first but quickly melted, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding on like he was the last piece of my life left.
“I’m so fucking glad to see you,” he said into my black hair. “It’s been way too long.”
I smiled, giving him one firm squeeze before letting him go, “I’m glad to see you too, Matty.”
“Get Brian back to himself, would ya?” he smirked, waving sheepishly as he retreated back into his own room.
I planted my feet outside of Brian’s door, preparing myself for the wrath of Haner I was sure would fly my way. I reminded myself that it wasn’t my fault—and he wouldn’t mean any of the nasty shit he would inevitably say to me. Brian could be a real son of a bitch when he figured he was down and out. I’d barely survived his grief after Jimmy died…and I imagined he wouldn’t be much kinder today.
With a few taps on the door, I waited.
My husband pulled the door open, looking tired and aloof. It took him a second to realize who was before him—and he grabbed onto me with a need I hadn’t felt in a while.
We stood in the hallway, holding onto each other in fear of letting go. I let my fingers dig into his back as he planted desperate kisses on my neck. This wasn’t the welcome I was expecting, but I was so god damn relieved.
“What are you doing here?” he finally asked me, surprise ringing supreme through his voice.
“I needed to see you,” I said simply.
He pulled me into his hotel room and immediately began to tidy. I pretended not to notice the concerning amount of empty bottles laying haphazardly around the room. Now was not the time to criticize his coping skills.
“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he smiled at me over his shoulder. “Even more than I remembered.”
I smirked, “Don’t flatter me, Haner. It’s been a long morning.”
He nodded, “For me too.”
“You know what we should do, right?”
“Get rip-roaring wasted?” he suggested with a grin.
I shook my head, “No. We should take a fucking nap.”
He laughed, surveying my seriousness before switching on the light bulb in his pretty head, “Sleep through today?”
“Mhm.”
“I could get into sleeping through the day.”
With a wave of my arm, I grinned, “Well, get in here then!”
He happily climbed into the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me as close into him as I could get. For the first time in nearly two months, I felt completely at ease. It was like coming home.
“It’s going to be a rough night,” my said quietly from behind me.
I frowned to myself, “We’ll get through it.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I’ll be fine now that you’re here…I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”
“Me too, Bri,” I smiled, cozying even further into him and letting my eyes flutter with fatigue.
We just had to make it one more night…We had to let ourselves get bruised and beaten with the severing of Avenged from The Rev. We had to let the storm brew and kick us with its rain…Just for one more night.
And then maybe we could move on…move forward…I could come clean about what our futures now looked like. Maybe I could help to heal him.
One more night and then I could tell him he was going to be a father.

Notes

We're almost finished this story...This installment of this story, anyway.

Sad.

xx