Trees (Brian/Vinnie)
They are in Seattle when it happens, as far as Vinnie remembers. It is somewhere North Western, anyways-- raining predictably, mountains and trees lining the outskirts of the city. Vinnie’s face is flushed red from the cold, water dripping into his eyes, warmed from sitting in wait atop his forehead. It seems like a good idea at the time, or at least a safe one. There are trees everywhere, tall and impressive, and the idea is tempting enough: climb a tree.
Consequences aside, he does quite well, considering the rain. It’s wet and it’s slippery, and he only slips once. Unfortunately, it’s that one time that really gets him.
Vinnie manages to escape with only a minor scratch, spanning his bicep, and looking nasty and red and bleeding in short, erratic bursts. He laughs it off, because it doesn’t hurt-- his arm is numb from the cold and the rain and he’s happy enough and fuelled by enough adrenalin. Everything seems fine; merriment abounds.
A few weeks later, they’re somewhere warm-- if Vinnie had to guess, he would say California-- and the scrape is healing. The skin is still angry and pink, but it is no longer open. It’s in California that Vinnie notices the bump. There is something hard and protruding beneath that tender, red flesh. And it’s itchy
This is where everything starts to get blurry and confusing, and where Vinnie loses track of where they are, and how long he has been scratching at his arm. What he does know, is that eventually he breaks the skin open via his short fingernails, but nothing bleeds. Beneath the skin, is something; Vinnie can’t figure out what it is, but it is dark and rough and suspicious.
They’re on tour, hopping from city to city, so Vinnie just shrugs it off. He figures he’ll have it checked out when he gets back home. It’s weird, yeah, but it doesn’t seem imperative that he have it looked at immediately.
But the skin never closes back up, and the thing underneath appears to be getting bigger. Vinnie takes to wearing long sleeved shirts, and no one is quick to question anything.
Brian is the first one to notice it. It’s mid morning, and they’re sitting in the bus, waiting out time and eating junk food. Jesse is off talking to fans, and Garrett is still sleeping.
“What the fuck is that?” Brian asks, pressing one cheese-coated finger against the protuberance beneath Vinnie’s sleeve. The shirt is white, and Brian leaves behind an orange streak.
Something irrational and previously dormant in Vinnie’s mind makes him turn to Brian defensively, and say, “Nothing.” And this he can’t explain, because there is something growing out of his arm and it is a fact he ought to mention. Then he thinks that Brian might find it sketchy, and he might make Vinnie go to a clinic or a doctor, and, somehow, this idea is terrifying to Vinnie.
And then no one else suspects anything, as far as Vinnie can tell, and Brian doesn't bring it up again-- although Vinnie catches the concerned glances he throws. It slips Vinnie's mind. He continues to wear long sleeves, and it’s nothing but fashion, and his arm is no longer itchy, so he has not a thing to worry about.
Then a problem arises, in that the suspicious bulge on Vinnie’s arm doesn’t go away. In fact, it keeps growing, and at a quickening pace. It gets quite large and quite noticeable, and Vinnie cannot keep his hands away from it. The protrusion isn’t itchy or irritated, but it’s all Vinnie can think about. It’s while he’s kneading at it with his fingers that he’s hit with a strange sense of familiarity. This lump on Vinnie’s arm, it feels suspiciously like bark.
Vinnie’s mind makes a flashback to Seattle, and where and how he got the injury that spurred all of this. It seems bizarre and illogical and impossible, but Vinnie thinks, yeah, okay, he’s growing a tree. In Vinnie’s mind, this is entirely plausible, and kind of cool.
Nothing but relief fills Vinnie’s thoughts when they finish touring, and it has nothing to do with rest. The sapling is growing large and suspicious, and Vinnie is finding it increasingly difficult to hide. The last thing he dreams of it getting rid of it. This tree that is growing out of him, it’s part of him, like an extra appendage. He’s just as attached to it emotionally as he is physically.
The only problem is how severely it distorts his tattoos.
Vinnie holes himself up in his apartment, watching the tree grow. He waters it daily. It takes up his life; he begins neglecting to eat, and to sleep. The realisation of what people would think inspires a fit of anxiety, because there’s no way-- none-- that he will get rid of it.
This panic returns when Jesse calls him, tells him they have song writing to do and a record to prepare for and shows to prepare for. By this point, the plant on Vinnie’s arm is large enough that it weighs him down, and there would be no possible method of hiding it.
A history of watching bad television programmes about lumberjacks has taught Vinnie a few things about conifers. If he cuts it right, it’ll just grow back, especially since his extra appendage appears to be growing at a much quicker rate than natural pine trees.
As it turns out, this tree really is part of Vinnie, because when he saws against it, it hurts. He’s using a carving knife-- because it’s the closest thing he has to a saw-- and it’s difficult to utilize. This is like chopping off a limb, the equivalent of willingly severing your leg. But he does it, and he doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed of the tears that slip past his eyes.
There isn’t any blood, thankfully, and it looks perfectly normal when Vinnie shows up to meet his band mates in a navy, long-sleeved shirt. There is no visible bump, but he can see Brian looking for one. When Brian discovers that there is nothing to be seen, he is visibly relieved. Vinnie catches this, and barely feels a twinge of guilt.
A stump is left behind after Vinnie cuts off his vegetative growth. It’s raised a few millimetres above the level of Vinnie’s skin, and is ragged and uneven due to Vinnie’s lack of proficiency with a knife. A new sapling begins growing out of this stump. When this tree becomes too large to hide, Vinnie has no choice but to saw it off. He cries once again.
This cycle continues onwards, and then suddenly Brand New are off playing shows again, and Vinnie is spending entirely too much time around his band mates. In order to keep Brian from getting suspicious, Vinnie begins severing the tree on a daily basis, to ensure it cannot grow large enough for Brian to notice.
What Brian does notice is that Vinnie is acting strange and stretched in a way he’d previously only seen from Jesse. He gets the feeling something is wrong, but he waits it out, watches Vinnie more closely, and stays quiet.
Vinnie feels confident that he is getting away with his daily amputations, and that his secret is being kept perfectly secret, and so maybe he allows himself slip up and get lazy, leaving the growth to extend for a few days at a stretch. This habit is what clues Brian into what is happening.
He knows.
Even with this knowledge secure in Brian’s mind and constantly on Brian’s mind, it takes him quite a while to approach Vinnie. He is constantly looking for something to prove his suspicions wrong, but nothing ever comes. If anything, the opposite is true.
“I know,” Brian says, and he doesn’t give any further explanation, because Vinnie recognises exactly what he is talking about, even if he feigns ignorance. Vinnie’s eyes are wide with a panic that makes it all too obvious that he understands.
Brian motions his head toward Vinnie’s arm, and Vinnie clenches his jaw in response.
“What do you know?” Vinnie questions, voice thick with malice and resistance. In the back of his head, he knows exactly how strange he sounds, and how strange he is acting.
“Hey, no,” Brian responds, slow and soft, like he’s speaking to a wild animal, which he almost is, if Vinnie’s behaviour is anything to go by. “I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there.” His eyes are open wide, boring into Vinnie in some attempt to get his point across.
“Oh, right.”
“It’s a tree.” And this gets Vinnie’s attention, leaves him with his mouth gaping.
This confirmation of Brian’s suspicions gives him the courage he needs to lift up his pant leg. He isn’t wearing socks-- a decision he made in anticipation of his confrontation with Vinnie-- and beneath the cover of his jeans is a stump. It’s lighter and thinner than Vinnie’s, probably deciduous, but it is still a stump. Brian has a tree growing out of his ankle.
Vinnie wants nothing more than to hug Brian right then. His heart swells up and his stomach feels sick, but he pins it down as a good thing. Vinnie isn’t alone in this; he has Brian, and all is well. He envisions a future of unconventional plant care, and spending hours just talking about their trees, gushing and discussing. When he opens his mouth to explain, and to begin, all that he manages to spit out is a stunned and amazed “Wow.”
Brian smiles shyly and crookedly, and gaiety abounds.