


Each and Every One

by Fingertips of Rose



Category: Underland Chronicles
Genre: Angst, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2014-07-10 11:00:13
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,175
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10323615/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5062240/Fingertips-of-Rose
Summary: Leaving the Underland has proved much more troublesome for Gregor than originally anticipated. Being happy is difficult and forgetting about it is impossible, especially when one of its inhabitants decides that they're going to pay you an extended stay. This takes place after Gregor and the Code of Claw. Rated T for recollection of the war.





	1. Chapter 1

After leaving the Underland for the last time, things were mostly okay. His mother was still tired and needed help doing things. His father struggled too. The medicines from the Underland were helping and both of them stayed at a stable place. Lizzie was nervous and didn't speak much. Gregor knew she missed her code-breaking friends. Boots seemed confused. She continued to ask for Temp. It upset everyone to hear her bring up the Underland. They didn't let it show.

Gregor himself though? He decided it didn't really matter how he felt. He pushed away any thoughts of his friends from the Underland. He pushed away his thoughts in general most of the time. His family needed him to be strong. Thinking about the people he knew, thinking about anything at all was too much of a distraction.

Within the first few weeks of being home, his parents began to fight. Maybe it wasn't a_ fight_, just more of an argument. It was the argument that determined where they would live. His mother wanted to move in with her brother in Virginia and his father wanted to stay. Gregor ever so quietly agreed with his father. How on earth would his recovering parents fare if they uprooted their family, yet again? He would have asked Lizzie what she thought, but he didn't want to upset her more than she already seemed to be.

As much as Gregor wanted to get involved, he figured it wouldn't matter what he thought in the end. He shut himself in his room. Or, at least, he tried to. The lack of door on his wall sort of kept that from happening. He was forced to listen to the words of his parents. They were never mean words. They just annoyed him with their inability to see their lives for what they really were.

They argued for days about it. Gregor wanted to scream at them to just shut up. "For the love of all that's good in the world, would you both just shut up?" He would think. He wouldn't say that though. Why were they arguing in the first place? "No matter where we go, I'll hate it. Lizzie will hate it too. They're lying to themselves if they think it'll be better in either place." He thought bitterly. He would never say that aloud either. It'd hurt his mother's feelings terribly. His father would be disappointed too.

He still couldn't understand them. How on earth would their grandmother be able to move to Virginia? She was in the hospital! His mother should be in the hospital too. Well, maybe. She was getting better. But his grandmother sure wasn't!

Still, the arguments continued. Until finally, one strangely quiet night, his mother stood in his doorway after putting Boots and Lizzie down for bed. Her face looked like she was forcing it to be emotionless. She was doing a fairly good job of it. Gregor was becoming somewhat of an expert on that particular skill.

"Gregor, I'm going to just ask you now. Do you want to stay in New York or go to Virginia?"

He stared at her for a moment and shook his head. He wasn't expecting that question. "Whatever will make you happy?" He replied with a bit of shake in his voice. He hadn't meant to make it sound like a question. His mother frowned at him.

"Gregor, please give me a straight answer." Gregor ran a finger down a particularly prominent scar on his arm as he pondered the question. He couldn't remember what particularly caused the scar though.

"I don't think Virginia is a possibility, Mom." He whispered, trying to be kind, but honest. It was difficult being nice and honest at the same time. That's why he was beginning to think that lying was better. Her face stayed stony.

"Why do you think that?" She asked quietly, too gently. Her tone irritated him.

"It just isn't!" He snapped. Only after he had shouted did he remember that Boots would be sleeping. Lizzie would be lying awake to listen. "It just isn't." He repeated with a more calm tone to his voice. "Grandma is sick and she's not getting better. She can't go to Virginia like that. There's no way! You're still sick and if you have a relapse and we can't go back to the Underland for them to help you, what are we going to do?" He was rambling now, but he didn't care. He'd avoided the subject long enough. "Lizzie can't handle being jostled around even more, and you're crazy if you think Boots is just going to forget. And I'm not forgetting either! How could you expect me to forget? Remember what Lizzie told us? 'Ripred says that if you run from things that scare you they just chase you', so why do you keep trying to run?" His voice cracked on the end, but he refused to cry. His mother's hand reached for his. He resisted the urge to pull away from her.

"Thank you for telling me the truth, baby. I'll tell your father what you think." She patted his hair in a way that used to comfort him. He wasn't sure what comforted him now. She squeezed his hand for a second and then backed out the door.

He was already starting to regret his snap at her. It was cruel and childish. Some of those things had needed to be said though.

Even though he slipped up moments ago, he was learning to hide behind a mask. If Luxa could hide her feelings, he could do it too. Mimicking her wasn't as hard as it once seemed to be.

There were unintelligible whispers that came from the kitchen that lay just down the hall. Gregor couldn't decide if he wanted to know what the two of them were saying or not. In a moment, he decided that he didn't, and stayed in his room.

After a few hours, the talking died down to a silence. He didn't like silence anymore. The lights in the apartment were shut off and his parents retreated to their bedroom. He sat in the darkness of his bedroom, not bothering to try to get to sleep. Sleep rarely came so easily anymore.

After that night, no one spoke of moving again.


	2. Chapter 2

School was pure agony. Sitting still for long periods of time had begun to make Gregor excruciatingly paranoid. The feeling of being watched, of always needing to be alert intensified greatly. He pulled through it as best he could with what he had. He focused on trying to keep the other students and teachers from noticing his acute discomfort.

His time outside of school was mostly spent alone in his room. Staring outside the window seemed more fun than trying to play outside with Lizzie and Boots. After a while the girls had stopped asking him to take them out. Even Gregor knew this was unlike him to act so carelessly toward his family. He wanted to help, he really did. It was impossible though. Staying away was for the best. He'd just end up hurting them.

Also, he couldn't play with his sisters, because honestly just being outside had begun to make him nervous, always looking over his shoulder, anticipating something. It was difficult for him to admit to himself that he was anticipating attacks from rats. Reminding himself of the peace in Regalia helped little. Thinking of the city just made things worse.

The months of November to April were blurry. Looking back, he remembered almost nothing of any events that happened during them. His lessons in school were fuzzy. It was like he was wearing glasses that were too strong of a prescription. It was like he was underwater. He couldn't breathe or hear or even think.

Winter had blended into spring. It was almost as if one day he woke up from one of his brief naps and all the snow had gone.

Things were steadily getting worse. When he tried to sleep for longer than a few moments at a time, he had the infamous nightmares of falling. New additions to his library of dreams included the war, the rats, Luxa, and Ares. The latter two were somehow the most terrifying.

So he stopped sleeping regularly. His family worried, but he was readily prepared to assure them he was fine. That is, when he wasn't hiding from them. Hiding was better for both him and them. He feared most was snapping at them of all people. Things were definitely getting much worse.

Perhaps he was not as fine as he pretended to be.

Perhaps he was not fine at all.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the very last week in May when his mom patted the cushion next to her as she sat alone on their old, ratty couch.

He had been in the kitchen drinking his fourth cup of water in a row. His dad had put his hand on Gregor's shoulder and held his hand out for the green cup. This was not an uncommon happening. Suddenly he found himself back in the trying quest for the Prophecy of Blood and the fierce thirst he felt while on the journey returned. "Your mother wants to talk to you in the living room." Gregor's dad informed him gently.

They all spoke gently to him now. Lizzie tried her best to avoid making him jump. Even Boots seemed to understand. They spoke in almost whispers when he was in the room. In some ways, Gregor appreciated it. In other ways, it irritated him.

Gregor robotically handed him the cup and shuffled toward the living room. The linoleum on the kitchen floor twisted and swirled in his vision. Gregor squeezed his eyes shut. That was a bad idea, he decided, after he ran into the door frame. That would leave a bruise. His mother looked panicked when he opened his eyes, but Gregor simply shrugged and rubbed his forehead absently

He sat down, unsure of how to react to this; usually they just tip-toed around him, trying not to make things worse. He felt guilty about it when he wasn't in 'one of his moods' as his mother called them. He didn't know what 'one of his moods' was. To, him, he was always in 'one of his moods'.

"Gregor, sweetie, I know you've been having a hard time lately, and I'm sorry." She rubbed his shoulder as she spoke. "Your father and I think that maybe it's time for you to take a break."

Gregor's eyebrows furrowed dramatically. "Take a break from what?"

"According to some of your teachers, you don't seem to do well in school. Your grades are decent, but they tell me you look unhappy." They probably said something more than that, but it seemed that she didn't want to upset him. She bit her lip as if it was painful for her too. Gregor clenched his jaw. He tasted something salty in his mouth. He'd bitten into his cheek in distress. He thought he had been getting better at this, at hiding his emotions. "We thought you could end the year early, maybe spend some time at home? It would just be for May and June."

The idea of not going to school didn't upset Gregor. It seemed like his mom was expecting one of his 'fits' as she called them. But he just nodded, smiled and said, "Okay, Mom. If you think that's what's best, I'll take a break."

His mom smiled at him and he smiled harder in return. "I think I'm going to take a nap." He lied. After a second he realized that it was a terrible lie. His parents knew he could barely sleep at night. They would certainly doubt his ability to take a nap in the afternoon.

But his mother nodded as if it made sense. Gregor rose and dragged his feet to his room. As he turned the corner into the storage space, he heard "Unpredictable," come from his mother's mouth. His father made a sound of agreement.

"Do they forget how small this apartment is?" He wondered as he laid his head on his pillow. This seemed to be his new favorite activity; staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was fairly safe. He couldn't get hurt by staring at the ceiling.

He reached over to his dresser to pick up the small object that always sat there.

Turning it over in his hands, the little plastic bat never failed to make Gregor forget whatever was on his mind. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was debatable.


End file.
