waiting for you now
Title: Brutal Love [10]
Author: Molly
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Summary: “Enough is enough, Pritchard, and you better get your story straight, before I walk out the fuckin' door until you do.”
Previous Parts: located here
"I wish Daddy was here to tuck me in too.”
Billie smiled sadly at his daughter, as he pulled the blankets up to her chin and snuck Shamu in underneath. “Me too, honey. I'm sure he's wishing the same thing.”
Despite his sugar-coated reassurance for Olivia, inside, his stomach was in coils. Mike hadn't responded to his voicemail, and while Billie was more than frustrated with him for lying, he was also starting to get a bit worried. It was most unlike Mike to stay out all day without even a text, and thoughts of car accidents, muggings, and various other, more impossible circumstances popped into his head. Billie Joe had to battle them all afternoon and into the evening, distracting his daughter with her favorite cartoons, pizza, and a game of tag in the backyard. It took his mind from all of the bad thoughts, as well, and sometimes he wondered if that's what children were designed to do for their parents.
They had already finished her bedtime reading-the fourth chapter of the second Harry Potter book, because Billie insisted on starting her on his favorite series early-and he'd already sang Olivia her goodnight song. But after he kissed her forehead and stood to leave, Olivia's little hand reached out and snagged on his t-shirt.
“Mommy. . .?” She drawled, a question in her voice. Billie sat back down on the edge of her bed promptly, and once he had, she began, “I wanted to ask you something. . .”
Unsure of where this could be heading, Billie's brow furrowed as he swept her hair away from her face. “Ask away, Liv.”
“Well. . . today in school, we talked about families. I got to share that you and Daddy play music and we got to go to all kinds of places so you guys could play for other people. . . Like you told me you do.”
He nodded. “That's right, love. That's what Daddy and I do, with Uncle Tre.”
“Yeah. . . but then Eric-he's a boy in my class-he asked me what your names were. So I told him. And he said Billie was a boys name. And I said yeah.” Olivia's face was twisted in thought, her mouth skewed to the side, and her big blue eyes full of innocent confusion. “Eric said that his mommy was a girl, and everybody else did too. I tried to ask Mrs. Connelly, but I didn't know what my question was, I guess. . .”
Sighing, he offered Olivia another small smile. Billie had expected she would ask this eventually; in some ways, he was surprised it had taken this long. “I think what you want to know, is why you have a boy mommy when your classmates have girl mommies. Right?”
She nodded earnestly. “I don't get it.”
“Well. . . most mommies are girls because more girls are able to have babies. There aren't very many boys who can have babies. And boys can only have babies if they have relationships with other boys. ” He leaned over her, propping his elbow up on the mattress space to the left of her, the thumb of his other hand stroking at her soft cheek. “I didn't know I could have babies until I found out I was gonna have you. And you know what?”
“What?” Olivia asked, giggling a little when her mom kissed her nose.
“I'm the luckiest boy in the world, because I got to have you.”
This made her grin widely. Olivia glanced down, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her blanket, and when she looked back up, there were still tell-tale signs of curiosity on her face. “So I call you Mommy, because I came from your tummy, right?”
“That's right,” Billie replied with a nod. “Your daddy and I thought about having you call us both daddy, but we decided it might be confusing. . . and anyway, I'm proud to be your mommy. Being a mommy is my favorite thing to be in the whole world.”
“So, does that mean boys can't get married to other boys?”
He furrowed his eyebrows again. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because you and Daddy aren't married. I think all the kids in my class have married mommies and daddies.”
“Well. . . boys can get married to boys. And girls can get married to girls.” Billie Joe scratched awkwardly at the back of his head, having only a shrug to offer. “Daddy and I just aren't married because we decided we don't need to be. You don't have to be married to be family. Really, Olivia, marriage is just a piece of paper. It's okay to be married, but it's also okay to not be married.”
She nodded slowly, seeming to absorb all of the new information Billie was giving her. Olivia's questioning eyes found his again. “So, you don't have to be married to have a baby?”
Before he could answer, another voice answered, coming from behind, “No, but you better be married before you have a baby, Olivia Danger,” Mike said, voice as jokingly firm as the finger he wagged at her, “and that better not be for another forty years.”
“Daddy!” She cried, giggling, untangling herself from her covers to jump to her feet on the mattress, returning the hug Mike gave her with enthusiasm. “You came home to tuck me in!”
“Of course I did,” he murmured into her hair, voice suddenly soft and tender, “sorry I'm a little late, sweetheart.”
“It's okay, Mommy was just telling me all about boy mommies and how come you guys aren't married.” Olivia collapsed back onto her bed, folding her legs Indian-style with an expectant look on her face. “So you guys won't ever get married?”
“Well--” Mike glanced at his boyfriend, who, despite his benign expression, held a storm of anger in his green eyes. He swallowed before continuing, “We don't ever say 'never', remember, Liv?”
She nodded, satisfied, as once again, a thoughtful look crossed her young features. “So, how do babies get into mommies tummies in the first place?”
“Okay, I think you've reached your question limit for the night,” Billie said quickly, scooping her up by the armpits to deposit her back underneath the blankets. Blood was already rushing to his head as a physical reaction to Mike's sudden appearance, and he didn't want any other reasons to feel light-headed at the moment. Billie Joe could only hope she would forget her latest inquiry by morning. “It is definitely past your bedtime, sweetie.”
“Aw, okay. . .” Olivia mumbled dejectedly, hugging and kissing her mother back. When Mike took his turn for another hug, she whispered, “Thanks for coming home, Daddy.”
“You bet, Livybug,” he whispered back, somewhat choked, and kissed her a little more zealously than he usually did. “Sleep tight, angel.”
“Goodnight, Liv,” Billie said as they headed for the doorway, switching off the overhead light so only her nightlight glowed from beside her bed. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Olivia replied, voice already slipping into the depths of sleepiness, as she turned on her side with Shamu clutched in her arms.
Once the door had been shut, and their daughter was shielded from whatever would occur between her parents, he did not so much as look at Mike. Billie knew that if he did, he would be tempted to start cursing at him right away, and he knew they needed to get a safe distance away from Olivia before he did. Without a word, he marched down the stairs, his fingertips all but buzzing with his simmering anger.
Mike followed, almost reluctantly, like a child that was just told he was being punished. His own body felt weak; his t-shirt was still damp from sweat and his own heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest, it was racing so fast. They ended up in the studio, in the basement, where they always went when they were about to have it out-where Olivia wouldn't hear them.
Billie Joe ended up in the middle of the studio floor, hands on hips as he slowly stepped to face his boyfriend. In the corner of his eye, he could see see the yellow notepad, a reminder of the song he had written with Mike in mind just a few hours ago. Shaking his head, Billie finally issued the expletive he'd been dying to say since he had realized Mike's presence in Olivia's room, and his voice dangerously soft, he murmured, “What the fuck is going on with you?”
The bassist took in a shaky breath, raising his palms in a useless, half-surrender. “I should have called. I-I know, I fucked up, Billie.”
“Jesus Christ, Mike, I shouldn't have to find out from Tre that you lied to me. I shouldn't have to leave you voicemails like the one I left you, and I shouldn't have to lie to Livy about where the fuck her father is.” His words came out in a rush, like Mike had pricked his lungs with a needle and allowed all of the nasty thoughts to escape. “I want to know what the hell is going on, because you've been acting strange for days now. Enough is enough, Pritchard, and you better get your story straight, before I walk out the fuckin' door until you do.”
God, Mike had forgotten what a spitfire Billie Joe could be when he was angry. They didn't argue often-maybe once a year, and usually over something trivial. He dared to step a little closer, because he could see Billie trembling, as he himself was. “Okay. I'm sorry I lied, but Bill, I-I didn't know how to tell you. . .”
“Just fucking tell me, Mike,” Billie said in exasperation, “we have always agreed to tell each other the truth, no matter what it is. That's why I'm so damn angry, Mike, there's no good reason to lie me.”
“I didn't-I didn't want to tell you if it was nothing. If there was no point to upset you.”
“Well, I'm upset, Mike,” he said, using his boyfriend's name over and over again, as he always did when he was angry with him. “So like it or not, you have to fucking tell me.”
The bassist didn't say anything at first, and the silence allowed Billie Joe to notice just how anguished his boyfriend appeared. Some of his initial frustration ebbed away to make room for some fear, and with his hands on his hips, he shuffled a little closer. Mike's mouth was opening and closing, gaping like a fish, as he obviously struggled to bring whatever he was hiding to some kind of verbal fruition; again, Mike was never one to have a way with words-unless he was really pissed, then all bets were off-especially not on the spot, but the look in his blue eyes was more than troubled. It was something Billie had never quite seen in his boyfriend before, and suddenly, he was moved with an urge to hug Mike, but he didn't. He was too damn scared himself.
“Mike,” Billie said again, voice considerably gentler than it was only a minute or two ago, and he had to tilt his head, to catch Mike's eyes again when the bassist dropped them in an ongoing attempt to collect himself. “Mike, you can tell me anything. That's been true for almost thirty goddamn years, babe. Nothing is too big for us.”
Another wave of anxiety seemed to wash over Mike at Billie Joe's choice of words, and after a quiet gasp, he rubbed his face with his sweaty palms, and then let his words go in a steady, robotic stream, “Our last day in Hawaii I was pissing blood. It freaked me out, but I didn't want to say anything. I figured it was just a bladder infection or something, which is why I didn't want to have sex. On Monday, I went to my GP, and she tested me and said I didn't have an infection. She said I had to get an MRI of my kidneys and liver, and she set it up for today. That's where I went this morning. The scans showed I masses on my liver and shadows on my kidneys. She said they could be cysts, or they could be tumors. She said I have to have a biopsy done right away. Tomorrow.”
It felt like all of the air had been sucked from the room. Whatever he had been expecting-if he really did ever have a clue-it wasn't this, and Billie's body seemed to deflate, his tense shoulders sagging under the weight of Mike's confession. He could feel every pulse of his heart, reverberating in his skull, felt it pound from his stomach to his fingertips, and his mouth ran completely dry as a lump built, slowly, in his throat. Hands shaking, Billie covered them both over his mouth to muffle his breathless curse, “Jesus Christ.”
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Mike panted, stepping closer; he held ups his hands like he wanted to touch his boyfriend, but he didn't. He was afraid that, if he did, he would collapse into a million useless pieces. “I didn't want to worry you if it was nothing, didn't want Olivia to think anything was wrong, and I shouldn't have lied, God, I'm so sorry.” Mike wiped away the cold sweat on his forehead, as he forced the tears down with a loud swallow. “After the doctors, I just ran, ran all over San Francisco until my legs gave out and all I wanted was you and Livy, and-and--”
Despite his best efforts, Mike was breaking down, and Billie Joe stopped hesitating and rushed forward to crush him in a suffocating embrace, and Mike hugged him back, clutching him like a life preserver, as they both allowed themselves to finally cry, in the oh so very familiar comfort of each other's shoulders. As the pent up emotions surged out of him like a persistent flood, Mike muttered apologies into Billie's neck, for lying, for not coming home, for everything, and Billie shushed him, in between wet kisses from Mike's collarbone, to his stubbled cheek, to his lips, his tattooed fingers entwined into Mike's coarse brown hair so tightly that his knuckles burned white.
“Stop, stop, Mike, stop.” Billie Joe touched Mike's trembling bottom lip with his thumb, shaking his head, and croaked, “It doesn't fucking matter, I'm sorry I got so mad at you-I didn't know what to think, I--”
“I should have told you,” Mike insisted, sniffing and still hiccuping for breath every few seconds. His wide eyes stared into Billie's, hating the fear that he had put there. “If the situation were reversed, I would have been just as pissed.”
Billie framed his boyfriend's face in between his hands, fingertips swiping away the small tears scattered over his impossibly tall cheekbones. His stomach flip-flopped, as his heart was overwhelmed with affection for his oldest friend, and he kissed him, hard, on the mouth. “It could be nothing, you know. It could just be shadows, or they could be benign tumors. This could all be just a bad dream,” Billie Joe whispered, his voice cracking as he continued, “but even if it isn't, we'll get through it. We'll be all right. Everything's gonna be all right.”
They lapsed into another tearful embrace, and they stayed there, in the middle of the basement studio, for a very long time, locked into each other, until there were no tears left to cry.
Author: Molly
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Summary: “Enough is enough, Pritchard, and you better get your story straight, before I walk out the fuckin' door until you do.”
Previous Parts: located here
"I wish Daddy was here to tuck me in too.”
Billie smiled sadly at his daughter, as he pulled the blankets up to her chin and snuck Shamu in underneath. “Me too, honey. I'm sure he's wishing the same thing.”
Despite his sugar-coated reassurance for Olivia, inside, his stomach was in coils. Mike hadn't responded to his voicemail, and while Billie was more than frustrated with him for lying, he was also starting to get a bit worried. It was most unlike Mike to stay out all day without even a text, and thoughts of car accidents, muggings, and various other, more impossible circumstances popped into his head. Billie Joe had to battle them all afternoon and into the evening, distracting his daughter with her favorite cartoons, pizza, and a game of tag in the backyard. It took his mind from all of the bad thoughts, as well, and sometimes he wondered if that's what children were designed to do for their parents.
They had already finished her bedtime reading-the fourth chapter of the second Harry Potter book, because Billie insisted on starting her on his favorite series early-and he'd already sang Olivia her goodnight song. But after he kissed her forehead and stood to leave, Olivia's little hand reached out and snagged on his t-shirt.
“Mommy. . .?” She drawled, a question in her voice. Billie sat back down on the edge of her bed promptly, and once he had, she began, “I wanted to ask you something. . .”
Unsure of where this could be heading, Billie's brow furrowed as he swept her hair away from her face. “Ask away, Liv.”
“Well. . . today in school, we talked about families. I got to share that you and Daddy play music and we got to go to all kinds of places so you guys could play for other people. . . Like you told me you do.”
He nodded. “That's right, love. That's what Daddy and I do, with Uncle Tre.”
“Yeah. . . but then Eric-he's a boy in my class-he asked me what your names were. So I told him. And he said Billie was a boys name. And I said yeah.” Olivia's face was twisted in thought, her mouth skewed to the side, and her big blue eyes full of innocent confusion. “Eric said that his mommy was a girl, and everybody else did too. I tried to ask Mrs. Connelly, but I didn't know what my question was, I guess. . .”
Sighing, he offered Olivia another small smile. Billie had expected she would ask this eventually; in some ways, he was surprised it had taken this long. “I think what you want to know, is why you have a boy mommy when your classmates have girl mommies. Right?”
She nodded earnestly. “I don't get it.”
“Well. . . most mommies are girls because more girls are able to have babies. There aren't very many boys who can have babies. And boys can only have babies if they have relationships with other boys. ” He leaned over her, propping his elbow up on the mattress space to the left of her, the thumb of his other hand stroking at her soft cheek. “I didn't know I could have babies until I found out I was gonna have you. And you know what?”
“What?” Olivia asked, giggling a little when her mom kissed her nose.
“I'm the luckiest boy in the world, because I got to have you.”
This made her grin widely. Olivia glanced down, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her blanket, and when she looked back up, there were still tell-tale signs of curiosity on her face. “So I call you Mommy, because I came from your tummy, right?”
“That's right,” Billie replied with a nod. “Your daddy and I thought about having you call us both daddy, but we decided it might be confusing. . . and anyway, I'm proud to be your mommy. Being a mommy is my favorite thing to be in the whole world.”
“So, does that mean boys can't get married to other boys?”
He furrowed his eyebrows again. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because you and Daddy aren't married. I think all the kids in my class have married mommies and daddies.”
“Well. . . boys can get married to boys. And girls can get married to girls.” Billie Joe scratched awkwardly at the back of his head, having only a shrug to offer. “Daddy and I just aren't married because we decided we don't need to be. You don't have to be married to be family. Really, Olivia, marriage is just a piece of paper. It's okay to be married, but it's also okay to not be married.”
She nodded slowly, seeming to absorb all of the new information Billie was giving her. Olivia's questioning eyes found his again. “So, you don't have to be married to have a baby?”
Before he could answer, another voice answered, coming from behind, “No, but you better be married before you have a baby, Olivia Danger,” Mike said, voice as jokingly firm as the finger he wagged at her, “and that better not be for another forty years.”
“Daddy!” She cried, giggling, untangling herself from her covers to jump to her feet on the mattress, returning the hug Mike gave her with enthusiasm. “You came home to tuck me in!”
“Of course I did,” he murmured into her hair, voice suddenly soft and tender, “sorry I'm a little late, sweetheart.”
“It's okay, Mommy was just telling me all about boy mommies and how come you guys aren't married.” Olivia collapsed back onto her bed, folding her legs Indian-style with an expectant look on her face. “So you guys won't ever get married?”
“Well--” Mike glanced at his boyfriend, who, despite his benign expression, held a storm of anger in his green eyes. He swallowed before continuing, “We don't ever say 'never', remember, Liv?”
She nodded, satisfied, as once again, a thoughtful look crossed her young features. “So, how do babies get into mommies tummies in the first place?”
“Okay, I think you've reached your question limit for the night,” Billie said quickly, scooping her up by the armpits to deposit her back underneath the blankets. Blood was already rushing to his head as a physical reaction to Mike's sudden appearance, and he didn't want any other reasons to feel light-headed at the moment. Billie Joe could only hope she would forget her latest inquiry by morning. “It is definitely past your bedtime, sweetie.”
“Aw, okay. . .” Olivia mumbled dejectedly, hugging and kissing her mother back. When Mike took his turn for another hug, she whispered, “Thanks for coming home, Daddy.”
“You bet, Livybug,” he whispered back, somewhat choked, and kissed her a little more zealously than he usually did. “Sleep tight, angel.”
“Goodnight, Liv,” Billie said as they headed for the doorway, switching off the overhead light so only her nightlight glowed from beside her bed. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Olivia replied, voice already slipping into the depths of sleepiness, as she turned on her side with Shamu clutched in her arms.
Once the door had been shut, and their daughter was shielded from whatever would occur between her parents, he did not so much as look at Mike. Billie knew that if he did, he would be tempted to start cursing at him right away, and he knew they needed to get a safe distance away from Olivia before he did. Without a word, he marched down the stairs, his fingertips all but buzzing with his simmering anger.
Mike followed, almost reluctantly, like a child that was just told he was being punished. His own body felt weak; his t-shirt was still damp from sweat and his own heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest, it was racing so fast. They ended up in the studio, in the basement, where they always went when they were about to have it out-where Olivia wouldn't hear them.
Billie Joe ended up in the middle of the studio floor, hands on hips as he slowly stepped to face his boyfriend. In the corner of his eye, he could see see the yellow notepad, a reminder of the song he had written with Mike in mind just a few hours ago. Shaking his head, Billie finally issued the expletive he'd been dying to say since he had realized Mike's presence in Olivia's room, and his voice dangerously soft, he murmured, “What the fuck is going on with you?”
The bassist took in a shaky breath, raising his palms in a useless, half-surrender. “I should have called. I-I know, I fucked up, Billie.”
“Jesus Christ, Mike, I shouldn't have to find out from Tre that you lied to me. I shouldn't have to leave you voicemails like the one I left you, and I shouldn't have to lie to Livy about where the fuck her father is.” His words came out in a rush, like Mike had pricked his lungs with a needle and allowed all of the nasty thoughts to escape. “I want to know what the hell is going on, because you've been acting strange for days now. Enough is enough, Pritchard, and you better get your story straight, before I walk out the fuckin' door until you do.”
God, Mike had forgotten what a spitfire Billie Joe could be when he was angry. They didn't argue often-maybe once a year, and usually over something trivial. He dared to step a little closer, because he could see Billie trembling, as he himself was. “Okay. I'm sorry I lied, but Bill, I-I didn't know how to tell you. . .”
“Just fucking tell me, Mike,” Billie said in exasperation, “we have always agreed to tell each other the truth, no matter what it is. That's why I'm so damn angry, Mike, there's no good reason to lie me.”
“I didn't-I didn't want to tell you if it was nothing. If there was no point to upset you.”
“Well, I'm upset, Mike,” he said, using his boyfriend's name over and over again, as he always did when he was angry with him. “So like it or not, you have to fucking tell me.”
The bassist didn't say anything at first, and the silence allowed Billie Joe to notice just how anguished his boyfriend appeared. Some of his initial frustration ebbed away to make room for some fear, and with his hands on his hips, he shuffled a little closer. Mike's mouth was opening and closing, gaping like a fish, as he obviously struggled to bring whatever he was hiding to some kind of verbal fruition; again, Mike was never one to have a way with words-unless he was really pissed, then all bets were off-especially not on the spot, but the look in his blue eyes was more than troubled. It was something Billie had never quite seen in his boyfriend before, and suddenly, he was moved with an urge to hug Mike, but he didn't. He was too damn scared himself.
“Mike,” Billie said again, voice considerably gentler than it was only a minute or two ago, and he had to tilt his head, to catch Mike's eyes again when the bassist dropped them in an ongoing attempt to collect himself. “Mike, you can tell me anything. That's been true for almost thirty goddamn years, babe. Nothing is too big for us.”
Another wave of anxiety seemed to wash over Mike at Billie Joe's choice of words, and after a quiet gasp, he rubbed his face with his sweaty palms, and then let his words go in a steady, robotic stream, “Our last day in Hawaii I was pissing blood. It freaked me out, but I didn't want to say anything. I figured it was just a bladder infection or something, which is why I didn't want to have sex. On Monday, I went to my GP, and she tested me and said I didn't have an infection. She said I had to get an MRI of my kidneys and liver, and she set it up for today. That's where I went this morning. The scans showed I masses on my liver and shadows on my kidneys. She said they could be cysts, or they could be tumors. She said I have to have a biopsy done right away. Tomorrow.”
It felt like all of the air had been sucked from the room. Whatever he had been expecting-if he really did ever have a clue-it wasn't this, and Billie's body seemed to deflate, his tense shoulders sagging under the weight of Mike's confession. He could feel every pulse of his heart, reverberating in his skull, felt it pound from his stomach to his fingertips, and his mouth ran completely dry as a lump built, slowly, in his throat. Hands shaking, Billie covered them both over his mouth to muffle his breathless curse, “Jesus Christ.”
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Mike panted, stepping closer; he held ups his hands like he wanted to touch his boyfriend, but he didn't. He was afraid that, if he did, he would collapse into a million useless pieces. “I didn't want to worry you if it was nothing, didn't want Olivia to think anything was wrong, and I shouldn't have lied, God, I'm so sorry.” Mike wiped away the cold sweat on his forehead, as he forced the tears down with a loud swallow. “After the doctors, I just ran, ran all over San Francisco until my legs gave out and all I wanted was you and Livy, and-and--”
Despite his best efforts, Mike was breaking down, and Billie Joe stopped hesitating and rushed forward to crush him in a suffocating embrace, and Mike hugged him back, clutching him like a life preserver, as they both allowed themselves to finally cry, in the oh so very familiar comfort of each other's shoulders. As the pent up emotions surged out of him like a persistent flood, Mike muttered apologies into Billie's neck, for lying, for not coming home, for everything, and Billie shushed him, in between wet kisses from Mike's collarbone, to his stubbled cheek, to his lips, his tattooed fingers entwined into Mike's coarse brown hair so tightly that his knuckles burned white.
“Stop, stop, Mike, stop.” Billie Joe touched Mike's trembling bottom lip with his thumb, shaking his head, and croaked, “It doesn't fucking matter, I'm sorry I got so mad at you-I didn't know what to think, I--”
“I should have told you,” Mike insisted, sniffing and still hiccuping for breath every few seconds. His wide eyes stared into Billie's, hating the fear that he had put there. “If the situation were reversed, I would have been just as pissed.”
Billie framed his boyfriend's face in between his hands, fingertips swiping away the small tears scattered over his impossibly tall cheekbones. His stomach flip-flopped, as his heart was overwhelmed with affection for his oldest friend, and he kissed him, hard, on the mouth. “It could be nothing, you know. It could just be shadows, or they could be benign tumors. This could all be just a bad dream,” Billie Joe whispered, his voice cracking as he continued, “but even if it isn't, we'll get through it. We'll be all right. Everything's gonna be all right.”
They lapsed into another tearful embrace, and they stayed there, in the middle of the basement studio, for a very long time, locked into each other, until there were no tears left to cry.