Current mood:	busy
Current music:	razorlight - america
Entry tags:	lp fic

clandestine - chapter seven
Title : Clandestine
Author : shinobi
Fandom : Linkin Park
Genre : Angst/Drama
Pairing : C/P
Rating : NC17
Summery : [multichapter] This is the tale of six friends and their journey as they follow their dreams and their garage band turns into a crowd rocking monster; drugs, sex, rock and roll and conflicting relationships meet them on their way but will they help them grow or hinder them more?







Many, many thanks to talilov my new, sexah beta < 3 and thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing so far. Enjoy!



[Chapter Seven]






“How are you feeling?”


“Numb. You?”


“I’m not sure,” Mike whispered in response to my question, “I am so sorry.”


I couldn’t seem to find a reply within me so I just lay in silence and stared up at my bedroom ceiling that hadn’t seemed to stop spinning for the last two hours. Mike and I had barely spoken since brushing ourselves off and taking the long walk home to my place. The calm night sky and soft breeze that had brushed through our tired bodies had done little to ease the tension. After sneaking in through my bedroom window like a couple of teenagers and tiptoeing around so as not to wake anyone up I had called Phi and told him Mike wasn’t feeling one hundred percent so we’d decided to call it a night. He’d sounded slightly disappointed but that was the least of my worries and as I lay on my back, freshly showered and clothed in an old T-Shirt and faded pajama pants, I wished that was all my worries were.


Mike fidgeted beside me and I turned to look at his badly cut face. I’d cleaned it up the best I could with shaking hands and a bottle of ointment. I’d spent the first half of the walk home trying to persuade him that a trip to the hospital would be the best thing. He’d flat out refused, so far as to walk off in the opposite direction at one point. I figured, however, that he was hurting a lot more on the inside than he was on the outside. I should have felt so damn angry with him, yet I felt anything but that towards him. Disappointment, confusion, despair even, but no anger.


“What are you thinking?” he asked me.


“Lots of things,” I whispered, “Like, what the hell were you doing back there?”


“I’m sorry.”


“I know you are but that doesn’t answer my question. I need you to be honest.”


“I’ve known him since I was fourteen,” Mike started and I rolled onto my side, facing him to catch his softly spoken words.


“He shacked up with my mom for a while, got her hooked on crack cocaine, got me hooked on weed. When he left my mom, he gave me a contact number and told me I could call him whenever I needed a fix of something. That’s how it’s been ever since. At first he felt sorry for me, gave me the odd joint for free… Then I started sleeping with him, I was on and off for a few years. Then just before I met you and I had the job working tills at the store, he started asking for money instead, which I was pretty relieved about. You know things got bad over Christmas with my mom? Turns out she decided to pay him a visit and told him that I’d be round to settle the money. Guess she forgot to tell me that,” Mike sighed, “When I got up there just now he was off his head. I only wanted a joint or two to get me through the week. He was shouting at me and telling me that I more than owed him and before I knew it he was…” Mike shut his mouth and a lone tear slid down his cheek.


“Ssh,” I soothed, sliding my arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace, “It’s alright. He won’t be hurting you anymore,” I gulped, a sense of panic running through me, “I’m sure of that.”


“I’m so sorry though,” he sobbed, “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen…”


“I know you didn’t,” I whispered, rocking him in my arms, “I know you didn’t. Listen Mike,” I paused and slowly pulled away, keeping my arms around him, “I need you to be honest.”


He nodded his head.


“Did he… did he rape you?”


Mike closed his eyes and nodded his head once more as fresh tears trickled down his bruised face. I felt my heart momentarily stop. Why didn’t I go inside with him? Why did I let him go in the first place? Why was I such a lousy fucking friend who had taken so long to put together the pieces to the puzzle that was Mike Shinoda?


“Are you hurting?” I asked, realising what a pathetically dumb question that was. Of course he was hurting yet contrary to my thoughts, Mike was shaking his head.


“I’m used to it,” he whispered solemnly, opening his eyes and blinking back the tears.


“You mean, he’s done this before?”


“No.”


“Then what?”


“It’s happened before,” he told me.


“Do you mean when you were younger?” I asked, feeling strangely like he was inviting me behind one of the many walls he’d built up so long ago.


“Not just then.”


“Recently?”


He nodded his head before burying himself in my arms.


Oh God.


“Mike?”


“I don’t think I can take anymore,” he whispered.


If there was ever a time in my life when I found myself utterly speechless beyond belief, then this sure as hell was it. I was fumbling for questions, trying to grasp onto coherent words, but Mike had rendered me speechless.


“W… What do you mean?” I finally uttered, my hands gingerly rubbing his back.


“Nothing,” he murmured, visibly clamming up.


“Nothing?” I echoed in disbelief, “Mike, has this happened before or not?”


“Yes.”


A formidable silence followed, enveloping my senses. My best friend of five years was frankly confusing the hell out of me and I wasn’t sure whether he was inviting me to probe the subject further or if I should just let him tell me in his own good time what exactly the traumas he’d kept hidden to himself were. I found myself thankful when his voice bravely carried on.


“He’s always there,” he whispered, “When I close my eyes, he’s there. I used to think that would make him disappear but it doesn’t. So, I open my eyes and there he is, everyfuckingwhere.”


As he paused I felt him shaking but with fear or anger, I wasn’t sure. All I was sure of was that for the first time in what felt like ages, Mike was finally opening up to me again. I gently squeezed his hand reassuringly, as I waited for him to continue.


“He doesn’t mean it,” Mike sighed, “That’s the worst part of it all. He doesn’t mean to hurt me, but that’s all he does.”


“Who?” I whispered, “Who are you talking about?”


Mike shifted uncomfortably beside me, scrunching his eyes up and shaking his head. More tears were spilling from beneath his eyelids, trickling down his cheeks and soaking into the pillowcase beneath his head.


“I… He…” Mike stopped and opened his eyes, “I’m sorry.”


“What? What for?”


“For being like this,” he sighed, sniffing as he released his hand from mine and vigorously wiped his tears away, “For being a wreck.”


“You’re apologising?” I murmured, “That’s ridiculous. You’ve just been -”


“Don’t,” Mike cut in immediately, “I don’t need reminding.”


“You can’t run away from it.”


“You think I don’t realise that?” he scoffed.


“So you’d rather turn away, pretend it’s not happened? And what about that asshole, hey? Are you going to let him get away with it? I swear to God I could have killed that fucking bastard.”


Mike’s eyes grew wide, as did mine. I took a deep breath and let one heavy sigh escape from my lips. I could have killed him. Never in my life had I felt such hatred and ill feeling towards someone. I could have literally smashed his skull into tiny pieces and as I lay back down, trying to slow my breathing, it suddenly panicked me that I very nearly did.


“Sorry,” I whispered, “I shouldn’t have said that.”


“No,” Mike sighed, “It’s true. Sometimes turning away is so much easier than facing the truth though, don’t you think?”


“It is at first. But not in the long run.”


“What if the long run never happens though?”


“What do you mean?”


“Well, what if the thing you’re running away from never catches up with you?”


“It always does.”


“You think?”


“Yeah,” I nodded, “Everything catches up with you in the end. Unless you’re one hell of a cowardly son of a bitch and you, you aren’t that, Mike.”


“I am.”


“Not.”


“I am, Chester,” he told me with an air of certainty.


“Well I don’t think you are,” I sighed as a yawn escaped my lips.


“What time is it?”


“Late,” I yawned again as I craned my neck to look at the clock on the wall, “Half past four. Look are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”


“No,” he shook his head, “I’m fine.”


“You’re not.”


“Like I said, it’s nothing new.”


“And what exactly is that supposed to mean Mike? You keep telling me that and then pushing me away when I question you. I’m trying my hardest here Mike. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.”


“Then give me some time,” he whispered, his voice undoubtedly tinged with fear, “Please Chester?”


“Maybe we should sleep,” I sighed and pulled the covers closer around us.


He didn’t answer as he rolled away, turning his back to me and I wasn’t quite sure what else to say. The sound of cars hurtling down the freeway few and far between diffused my thoughts and as I felt sleep finally tugging at my eyes I couldn’t help but murmur the words that I always seemed to be telling him these days; words that I’d told Josh so very often.


“I’m always here,” I whispered faintly, “Don’t forget it…”



+



My sleep was plagued with nightmares; visions of a bloodied skull as it cracked against wooden floorboards and oozed crimson tinged sticky liquid which, when I lo oked down at my shaking hands, was trickling down my wrists, sliding along the floor and enveloping my body as I collapsed to my knees. Needless to say, I woke up with a start and a pounding sensation deep within my head. I rubbed at my eyes as the onslaught of a migraine began to kick in. I hadn’t had one in ages, in fact, it had been a good few years since my migraines had kept me bed ridden and hiding under my pillow for days on end. I only prayed they weren’t making a comeback.


When I finally woke up properly and my eyes had grown accustomed to the light surrounding me, I was fast to realise that the spot beside me was empty - except for a deep patch of red that had soaked into the sheets where Mike had fallen asleep.


Oh shit.


I scrambled to my feet, shoved on my glasses and found my eyes drawn to the patch of sticky blood once again. I didn’t need to touch it to know that it was still wet. Grabbing a sweater, I was already racing out of my bedroom before I’d even pulled it over my head.


The house was quiet, the bathroom empty. I carried on down the hallway and stepped into the kitchen greeted by the faint smell of bacon that had been cooking a few hours earlier. The clock above the stove was telling me that it was eleven thirty and a note tacked to the fridge said that everyone was out; Dad at work, the others out at the supermarket. I stopped at the sink, running a shaky hand through my hair.


Where the hell was Mike?


It didn’t actually take me that long to find him when I stepped outside onto the veranda and saw Mike in the distance, sitting on a swing at the very bottom of the garden. His back was turned to me as he swung gently back and forth, a cigarette in one hand sending spirals of grey smoke up into the cloudy sky. I needn’t have panicked so much and was busy telling myself that as I crossed the dewy grass and walked over to Mike. He didn’t notice me at first and I stood beside him, watching for a few minutes as he puffed nervously on his cigarette and gazed out onto the houses that sprawled themselves out beneath us.


After a few minutes I cleared my throat, unintentionally causing Mike to jump a little, his eyes wide as he turned to face me.


“Sorry,” I smiled softly, “How are you?”


He shrugged, “I’m alright I guess, you?”


“Worried,” I sighed.


“He… Ed won’t come after you, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s clueless, he’s not into picking fights, as long as he has enough money to buy some dope then he’s no harm.”


“No harm? The guy raped you Mike, he was about to pull a gun on me and actually, he was the least of my worries,” I paused, “Mike I think you should go to the hospital.”


“Chester,” Mike sighed, “There’s no need. Honestly.”


“Well the blood on my bed sheets tells me otherwise.”


Mike paled.


“It won’t take long and they won’t ask too many questions. I’ll take you in, we’ll tell them you were attacked and they’ll check you out. Look, I‘m not asking you to go to the Police or anything.”


“I’m fine,” Mike stopped to take a drag from his cigarette, “I’m just a little sore but it’ll fade after a few days, it always does,” he uttered the last part quietly.


“Please?” I moved in front of him, crouched down on the damp grass and steadied the swing with my hand, “Mike I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t take you,” I told him, “I know for a fact that he wasn’t using protection. Fuck, you could be infected or…”


“I can’t,” Mike shook his head, “I have no money remember?”


“Then I’ll lend you some, write you a cheque…”


“There’s no need Chaz. I mean thanks and everything but,” he paused, “Can we just forget this ever happened?”


“Is that what you do every time something bad happens?”


“I thought you knew me better than yourself,” Mike murmured, barely glancing up at me.


I sighed, not feeling like a response was inside my head and instead chose to gaze at the forlorn form beside me. He stared back for a while then turned his head to the side, absently watching the kid next door who had just appeared from the garage with a ball which he was thumping up and down against the fence.


“This needs to be sorted out,” I sighed again, my hands lacing themselves around the ropes of the swing, “Before you get hurt even more. I love you Mike, that’s why I’m gonna tell you this,” I paused as he finally looked back at me, “I’m here for you, whenever you need me so stop being an asshole and tell me what the fuck is going on.”


Mike shook his head, a wry smile appearing across his face, “Fuck you,” he uttered, “I’m not being an asshole, I’m…”


“What?”


“Forget it,” he hissed, sliding down from the seat of the swing, “Forget everything that happened. It’s insignificant.”


He stood before me, eyes level with mine and I remember thinking ‘fuck this is the first time we’ve ever argued this bad’ but my thoughts were cut short by fact that Mike’s eyes had started to slowly flutter shut and within seconds he had collapsed against the ground.



+



Carrying Mike back inside and laying him down on my bed was no struggle considering the amount of times I’d carried his drunken body before. His eyes fluttered open just as I’d grabbed my cell phone and was keying in 911.


“Ssh,” I whispered, “I’m just ringing an ambulance and…”


“No,” Mike groaned, his hand grabbing onto mine.


“Mike you just fainted and…”


“Please don’t.”


I sighed and reluctantly cleared the digits from my cell phone’s screen before placing it down on my desk.


“I’m fine Chester,” Mike’s voice rattled my thoughts, “I wish you’d believe me.”


“It’s kinda hard to Mike,” I sighed, sitting down beside him and nervously catching his fingers between mine, “When you look like death and all…”


“I’m fine,” Mike repeated, squeezing my hand, “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”


We were interrupted by the shrill tone of the doorbell.


“Well sleep then,” I hushed, placing a kiss on his forehead.


“Chester?”


I paused as I reached the doorway, “Yeah?”


“You won’t tell anyone about any of this will you?”


“No. I promise,” I nodded.


I turned away and padded down the hallway, brushing a hand through my messy hair as I unlocked the front door and opened it to reveal, Brad of all people.


“Hey,” he greeted me.


“Hey.”


“Is Mike here? Only, we were supposed to meet earlier and he never showed. Figured he might be here.”


“Yeah he is,” I paused, “He’s not feeling too good though, he’s sleeping. Come on in though,” I motioned standing aside so he could get in, “Phi’s supposed to be coming in a while; we can work on those songs if you want?”


“Sure,” Brad nodded as I shut the door and left him gazing around the hallway.


It was possibly the third, if only the second time Brad had come around - the last time being when he’d dropped in on Mike without a word - very much the way he was now.


“Uh - go on into my room if you want, just don’t wake him yeah? I need to use the bathroom.”


“Cool,” Brad smiled.


I carried on down the hallway and locked myself in the bathroom for some much needed alone time. Stripping from my nightclothes I filled the bathtub with hot water and poured in some of my favourite pink rose bath foam which I got my mother to buy me in secret. What? I had my masculinity to keep intact. Sure, I was gay as they came and proud of it but I was so without being camp, overusing words such as ‘dahhling’ and ‘babe’ and parading the fact that yes, from time to time I was a little effeminate and a total diva.


By the time I’d soaked myself in pink rose heaven, washed my hair twice and sunk under the water with my eyes closed for several moments it was past midday and the sound of doors opening and incessant chatter told me my mom and the others were back home with their shopping. I dried and slipped into some clean clothes, slinging my pyjamas into the laundry basket before I made my way back into my bedroom.


The sight that greeted me momentarily caught me off guard. Brad Delson, the biggest homophobic loser of them all, sitting cross legged on my bed and stroking Mike’s hair. He had his back to me and was whispering something in Mike’s ear; words I strained to hear as I lingered in the doorway.


“You’ve been avoiding me haven’t you?”


There was a strange edge to Brad’s voice, something eerily sugar soft; something I’d not seen from him before.


“You can’t keep doing this. You know I need you around…”


Shit.


I back pedaled, almost knocking my sister over as I collided with her, knocking the contents of her shopping bag to the floor. A couple of magazines and candy bars rolled across the wooden floor and Brad was quick to jump to his feet, eyes darting toward me and Mel as I helped her pick up the copies of Cosmo and Seventeen that had scattered themselves at my feet.


“Sorry sis,” I smiled.


“S’ok dumbass, you can’t help but be clumsy.”


“Yeah…” I paused as she headed off down the hallway and glanced up at Brad whose icy cold stare was piercing into my eyes.


“Phi called,” Brad suddenly spoke, “He suggested a band practice at his place tonight. He can’t make a get together here, says he’s taking his girl out for lunch…”


Ouch.


“Okay,” I nodded, trying not to feel too dejected by that notion.


“Well, I should get going and all. I’ll see you two later, around seven?”


“Sure.”


There was an edge of awkwardness as Brad brushed past me on his way out and it wasn’t until the door shut behind him that I realised Mike was sitting up with bleary eyes and frowning at me.


“Hey,” I smiled, stepping inside my room, “Feeling any better?”


“Yeah,” he nodded.


“What did Brad want?” I asked, crossing my room and opening the window.


I lit up a cigarette and idly flicked the ash out into the yard.


“He just came by to see if we’d be around Phi’s house later.”


“Right,” I nodded vacantly, “What did he mean exactly?” I asked with a frown as I turned to face Mike.


“…”


“I just heard him asking why you’ve been avoiding him. Don’t tell me, he’s being an awkward and intolerable asshole again?”


Mike smiled softly, “Something like that,” he paused, “We’ve not really spoken since I drank my body weight in alcohol and ended up in hospital.”


“Speaking of, are you sure you don’t want me to take you…”


“No.”


“Fine, fine,” I sighed, “Just don’t come crying to me when you realise you’ve contracted some STI.”


“Chaz, it’s not going to come to that,” Mike hushed me.


“Sorry. I’m just…”


“Worried. I know you are but you needn’t be.”



+




I cooked rice and peas for lunch - about as far as my culinary skills would stretch. Mike and I sat together on the veranda with our bowls, forks clanking against their sides as we watched the day go by and I struggled with myself and tried so hard to keep my mouth closed. But how could I? How could I stay silent after the turmoil that had unfolded in the past twenty four hours. To keep quiet and forget what had happened would do Mike no good. To speak up and talk things over it seemed would only hurt Mike furthermore. I was most certainly going through a bad case of being stuck between a rock and hard place.


It was getting late and after avoiding the concerned looks my Mother had graced my way, Mike and I had resigned to my bedroom once again and we lay like many other times haphazardly across the sheets with various pens and notebooks scattered out in front of us. I’d not had the mindset to actually write anything though and Mike seemed to be sharing a similar vacant expression as he gazed absently at a blank page in his notebook.


I lazily picked it up and flicked through it, my eyes finally stopping on the first page. It contained the first ever song we’d written together, partly in Mike’s neat type; the rest in my scrawled excuse for handwriting. The pen was smudged here and there, the margin scattered with smiley faces and the CND logo. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the palms of my hands, I thought about the lazy summer that the pair of us met and I felt an ache in my heart…




“You’ll just be doing general duties, such as shelf stacking and bag packing for the first few days. We’ll get you trained up on the tills once you’ve settled in. Oh, and here’s another member of the team that you’ll be working with a lot,” The blonde haired lady who had just introduced herself as ‘Pat, the long suffering manager of ‘Pat’s Baskets’’ smiled at me as we stopped in an aisle full of frozen produce. Her more than ample bosom heaved before my eyes the moment her arms gestured to a young guy.


“This is Mike,” she smiled, “He’ll be showing you the ropes,” she paused, “Mike, this is Chester.”


My eyes stared. Standing before me was an incredibly beautiful young man, probably no older than myself, with messy bleached hair and the most amazing ebony coloured eyes. My voice seemed to get lodged in my throat as he held his hand out and I took it, shaking it gently and returning his smile.


“Hey,” Mike smiled, “Welcome to hell.”


Pat whacked him upside the head in a jovial manner before glancing at the white wrist watch on her perma tanned arm.


“Well Michael, you know your duties. I have to be outta here for my hair appointment,” she paused with a wink as she twisted a strand of peroxide induced hair around her pinkie, “Get Chester an apron and show him the ropes. I’ll see you both later…”


She was gone in a flash, almost like a puff of air had whisked her away and all that was left behind was the faint scent of her cheap perfume; something that the fish in the freezer behind me were fast to overpower.


“Well, come out the back and I’ll show you where you need to keep your bag and shit,” Mike nodded, leading me through a maze of aisles housing everything from cereals to magazines to garden tools and condoms.


We finally reached a beat up door, flaked paint hanging loosely off it with a rusted sign that read ‘Staff Only’ nailed to the front. He pushed it open and I was met by a much welcome whoosh of fresh air. Letting the door click shut behind us, he flicked on a light to illuminate a large room filled with rows and rows of boxes which he led me through. Once we’d navigated those, we came to a battered couch beside a fridge and a kettle and then a row of pegs. Mike unhooked a shabby looking apron from one of the pegs, absently kicking open the fire exit door as he did so.


“Here,” he smiled, “It’s Rob’s, who,” he paused, motioning behind the door, “Is incidentally out here on his forth cigarette break of the day.”


“Third you idiot,” A voice retorted from outside, followed by a pale, tall boy who stuck his head around the battered door, “Hey,” he smiled, “Want a smoke?”


“No he doesn’t want a smoke,” Mike chipped in, rolling his eyes at me, “Some of us are actually here to work.


“Oh hail the slave driver,” Rob laughed, “If you ever want smokes buddy then I’m your man,” Rob winked cheekily, “If you however prefer the harder stuff, then Michael here…”


“Yes thank you,” Mike groaned, kicking the door shut, “Sorry about him. Younger brother syndrome or something.”


“He’s… he’s your brother?”


“Oh fuck no,” Mike laughed, passing me the apron, “He just likes to act like it. Annoy the hell out of me.”


“Oh right,” I nodded, tying the apron around my waist.


“You nervous?”


“A little…”


“Don’t be. This job’s a piece of piss.”


I smiled.


“You worked before?

“Sort of,” I murmured.


“Cool,” Mike paused, “You know, I think we’re going to get on,” he grinned.


I couldn’t help but return his smile. I’m not sure if it was because this was the first time I’d stepped outside since Josh had died or because I felt a spark of warmth within me as Mike brushed past me - I just knew that from that day on we were going to share something special.




“Hey. Loser.”


I was jolted from my thoughts by Mike’s voice and the sharp jab of his finger against my ribs. I slowly opened my eyes, rubbing them with the backs of my hands.


“Hmmm?” I asked sleepily.


“You totally spaced out there,” Mike told me.


“I was just thinking.”


“Yeah?” Mike asked, sliding down beside me, “What about?”


“You.”


Mike frowned, “Hmm is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he smiled.


“Totally bad,” I nodded with a smirk.


“So go on, share these bad thoughts,” he paused, “Wait bad as in bad or as in bad?”


“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just thinking about when we first met.”


“Yeah?” Mike smiled, rolling onto his side, “Back in the day huh? When we were young and innocent.”


“Innocent?” I laughed, “When were you ever innocent?!”


“Before I met you. You corrupted me.”


“Oh as if. I think it was the other way around…”


I smiled and closed my eyes. I’d fleetingly forgotten last night’s madness. For a split second had it escaped my mind that I’d almost knocked a stranger unconscious - more so that I’d seen my best friend being raped…


“You know, I’m not really in the mood to go and practice tonight,” I sighed, suddenly overwhelmed by a racing mind and a shaky sensation flowing through my limbs.


“I’m glad you said that,” Mike murmured, distractedly gazing up at the ceiling.


“Okay, how about we get pizza and watch some gay film?” I smiled softly, hoping that in someway this might take Mike’s mind of things.


“Sounds great,” Mike smiled, “As long as you mean gay as in ‘crap’, rather than homosexual. I don’t think I can stomach watching any of your porn…”


“Pssh,” I stuck my tongue out, “I don’t own any…”


Mike smirked and raised his eyebrows because he knew as well as me that that wasn’t entirely true. And then I lay still for a while and stared at him because less than twenty four hours ago he’d been raped and here we were pushing it away and making jokes about gay porn. I swallowed hard and absently wondered how many other times it had been this way. How many other times had I tried to cheer Mike up, let him push his problems away. I was forever trying to help him forget but really, that wasn’t the way to go, was it?



+


I just wanted to make him smile, that’s all. At times like those I sometimes forgot that maybe tears shed because Mike was confiding in me were better than smiles shared because I was trying to make Mike happier. I wish I could’ve been a better friend.


+


TBC...


Please comment with any thoughts, i love feedback =D