Chapter Text
He had never managed to clean the stain. The one Mom did when she found out about the black nail polish, years ago, throwing the bottle on the wooden floor. Using nail polish remover would have meant risking for the tiny bottle of remover to be found too. Gerard had refused to make her angrier. He already had been such a bad boy, hiding some girl's makeup in his room... He was lucky his Mom was such a forgiving woman.
The young man was looking at it pensively, eyes away from the old Bible he was supposed to be reading. He should not have been so unfocused, really. Mom liked to test him after reading sessions. And Gerard loved to make her proud, seeing the corner of her eyes crinkle as she gave him one of her rare smiles, making Gerard feel like a proper human being, for once. Someone worthy of his parents' love.
After a while, the stain slowly disappeared, his vision getting blurry. Gerard shook his head slightly, focusing back on the old, yellowish pages of his Bible. It was secondhand, just like every single thing in his possession. Mom refused to participate to the corruption of the modern-world, taking Gerard thrifting once per year, in September, before the beginning of school. Now that he was twenty-two, he was simply sharing his closet with Dad. After all, they almost wore the same size. Dad's clothes were just a bit too tight for this eldest son.
The young man sighed. If he was not able to memorize the words, Mom would be mad. He bit his lip, his clammy hands flattening the book, in a desperate attempt to make the words less blurry.
'Gerard, Michael!' Mother's voice called, at the bottom of the stairs.
Gerard made eye contact with the lamb sculpted on his alarm clock. He had been sitting two hours already. He got up quickly, giving Mikey a slight smile when he saw him. His brother smiled back. He seemed more confident than Gerard. The eldest simply hoped his brother would answer all of Mom's questions, so she would not notice how distracted Gerard had been all afternoon.
He followed Mikey down the stairs, their two chairs already withdrawn.
The questioning began.
Mom's questions were not simple. They were sharp, precise. Every single word had to be ingrained in the brothers' minds.
Mikey was better at it than Gerard. At only seventeen years old, Mikey was the town's smartest kid.
Gerard let him answer the first questions, eyes on the table, avoiding to look at Mom.
'Gerard?'
As always, his strategy had not worked for long. Mom was smart, smarter than he would ever be. He swallowed his saliva, meeting her eyes.
'Yes, Mom?'
He attempted a smile. She did not give it back, her index pushing her glasses higher on her nose.
'The tree. Tell me more about it.'
It was the fig tree parabole. One of the verses Gerard knew almost by heart. He felt tears of relief welling in his eyes, blinking quickly to make them go away.
'It... It was a fig tree, Mom. Jesus was starving, and it was completely empty when he arrived.'
'So what happened?'
Mikey opened his mouth to answer, but Mom gave him a side eye, shushing him almost immediatly.
'Let your brother answer, Michael.'
'Yes, Mom.'
Mikey lowered his eyes, hands perfectly folded on his lap.
'He cursed the tree, Mom.' Gerard said, trying to keep his voice steady.
'Why did he curse the tree?'
The older man started to fidget with the tablecloth, his fingers entering the lace, careful not to break any thread.
'Because it did not have any fruit.'
'Why did he curse the tree?' Mom said again, narrowing her eyes.
Gerard took a panicked breath, trying to think fast. He knew this verse almost by heart. What he did not know, was what Mom thought of it.
'Because it would not give anymore fruit, Gerard. Because it was useless. Do you know how to interpret it?'
'When...When something is godless, when it stops following the words of God... It is not worth anything anymore.'
Mom widened her eyes, giving him a pleased smile. Gerard instantly felt his body relax, a smile appearing on his lips. Mom was proud. Mom was not mad at him.
'Yes, Gerard, you smart boy. When something is not serving God anymore, it's better to get rid of it. Like you did when we realized these comicbooks aunt Velma offered you at Christmas were not godly. Or...'
She searched under her seat, dropping a CD on the table. A black CD, with a skull on it. It was facing her, preventing Gerard from making out the name on the front.
Although Gerard had never seen it in his life, he gulped, refusing to meet his mother's eyes.
Next to him, Mikey was still standing straight. He was perfectly still, his eyes on Mom.
Gerard saw him starting to fidget with the tablecloth too.
'I found this... Satan worshipping music under your bed, Michael.'
Mom's voice was cold.
Gerard could not help but feel better once Mikey's name was in Mom's mouth. She knew it was not Gerard. She knew Gerard had been a good boy. She was still happy with him.
'It's a friend's, I'm just keeping it safe for him.' Mikey lied through his teeth.
Mikey had always been a good liar, but Gerard knew when he was not telling the truth.
'I don't have any device to listen to it.'
Another lie. Mikey was fearless.
'I don't want any...rock n'roll music in my house, Michael.'
'I'm sorry, Mom. I'll give it back to my friend tomorrow.'
Mom let out a humorless laugh. She shook her head no.
'I'll throw it out. Tell your friend that he is actively corrupting his soul. Which is something I won't let my children do.'
She got up, Mikey copying her. He knew what was to come. They all did.
'Which is why I'll let you retreat and think about it.'
'Mom, please, it was not mine...'
Mikey's voice got high-pitched as he followed her to their basement. She shook her head. Trying to discuss her punishments with her was useless.
'It does not matter, Michael. You let Satan enter our household. I need to make sure you understand how dangerous it was...'
'Mom, I understand, trust me...'
She opened the door, Mikey's eyes filling up with tears. He was terrified of the basement.
Gerard understood. He was too, avoiding it even when he was alone in the house.
'I'll open the door tomorrow morning.' She said in a softer voice. 'Five pages.'
'Five? But Mom...'
'Six if you don't go downstairs, now.'
He left, giving up on the idea of negociating with her.
Five pages, filled with Bible verses proving that he had sinned. Mom would read them, and make him redo it if she was not satisfied.
Gerard shivered. One page was already hard to fill, but five would take Mikey hours, hunched over the small candle Mom allowed them to light.
Mom closed the door behind Mikey, locking it.
She then turned to Gerard, ruffling his hair affectionately.
'You've been a good boy.' She said to him. 'Help me with dinner, now.'
'Yes, Mom.' Gerard answered, unable to prevent his proud smile.