How We Got Here

Disclaimer: Never owned them, never happened. Most unfortunately. ::cries::

A/N: Billie 'quotes' song lyrics in this chapter. They're mine. I own them.

P.S. I got a lot of reviews with condolenses about me getting therapy. While they are greatly appreciated and made me realize there is still empathy in the world, I elected to get therapy. Just thought I'd mention that. Thanks for the sympathy, though.

How We Got Here (or Time of Your Life)

Chapter Ten: Giving Up the Lie

It's something unpredictable
But in the end it's right

Billie's POV

"And this boy has two moms!" Joey said on the ride home from his new school. "And then we went to the park and learned about trees!"

Mike squeezed my leg and I smiled at him. "Is your teacher nice?"

"Yeah. He lets us listen to music during school." He's bouncing in his seat. "I got a note." He hands it to Mike.

"School carnival thing on Saturday." he tells me.

"Can we go, Dad?"

"Yeah, kid. We'll go." I know I've got the world's stupidest grin on my face. Joey didn't even want me at his concerts before. He hated when Mike and I went into his school together.

"I've got homework. But I don't know how to do the math. It's factions."

"Fractions, buddy." Mike says. "Well help you with it after we get the pictures done, all right?"

"Pictures? What pictures?"

"We're getting family pictures done today. I told you that last night." I see him shrug in the rearview mirror.

Mike told me about this guy who's completely flaming and about fifty. I guess he took pictures of Madonna naked or something and of that model Twiggy who's thinner tan fuck. (She had her clothes on though. And I don't think she's that thin anymore.) Now he's just a studio photographer. A really expensive studio photographer.

"Actually, Joey, you shuld bring it in. All you kids are getting shots done and--"

"Shots?" Jakob asks, bottom lip trembling.

"I meant pictures." I tell him. Damn, I've been in this business too long. "You're all getting pictures, so you'll have time to get some of it done."

Mike's POV

Jakob's screaming, Stella's lifting her skirt over her head, Billie Joe's hyperventilating, and I'm help Joey with fractions. Everything's perfect. Can't wait to see this family picture.

We got one done around Christmas for cards. Billie had gum in his hair, I had marker on my cheek (blame Tre, not the kids), Joey was turning purple from holding his breath ("Don't worry, Mike. I did that all the time when I was a kid." Thanks Billie.). Jakob was crying and Stella was eating her hair.

Addie framed it. Billie autographed it.

"Jakob Danger, stop it." Billie begs. "It's just a picture. We'll get ice cream if you just stop screaming."

Jakob halts midscream. Who says you can't bribe your kids?

"Stella, honey, put your dress down."

Billie's POV

"Well, I think that went better than last time." I say. "At least I don't have to cut my hair again."

"Ice cream!"

"Yeah, Jakob. I'm looking for a Dairy Queen." Mike points and I turn left. After I park, we herd the kids inside.

"I want chocolate." Joey says.

"Chocolate what?" Mike asks, grabbing Stella before she takes off.

"Chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup." I ruffle his hair. "Da-ad."

"Jo-seph." I say in the same pouty voice. I scoop Jakob into a hug. "And what do you want, punk?"

"Nanner split."

"Okay." Mike walks up to the cashier chick. "I need a hot fudge sundae with chocolate ice cream, a small Oreo blizzard, a large Snicks blizzard and . . ." He looks at me.

"And a banana split. No strawberries on that, extra chocolate. And a large cookie dough Blizzard."

"I'm 'llergic to stawberries." Jakob tells the girl.

She grins. "Aren't you the cut little flirt." Her tongue's pierced. "That's $15.62."

Mike pays her and we wait for the food while Jakob continues to talk to the girl. She can't be over sixteen. When she hands us the food, she lowers her voice. "Look, I could get in deep sh--" She looks at the kids. "Well, deep you know for this, but . . ." She slides a napkin and a pen across the counter. "Please? I love your CDs."

"Sweet kid." Mike says after we get our own kids into a booth.

"Yeah." I had Jakob a spoon with Mike helps Stella with her ice cream.

Taking the kids to get ice cream in good clothes probably wasn't the best idea. Neither was taking the BMW. Or deciding the swimming pool was the same as a bath.

"I love you Billie Joe." Mike says later, pulling me in for a kiss.

That's not too bad of an idea.

---

I hate my shrink. Is it my fault? Do I just magnetically drift toward fucking quacks?

He made me go through the entire rape out loud today.

". . . and then he fucked the hell out of me! What the fuck do you want me to say?!" I idn't care that I was yelling. My hands were fists. I was terrified I'd have an attack and my stupid doctor would be the one who had to calm me down.

Mike had asked me to do one more session. He told me I didn't have to, but he'd really like it if I went. Manipulative bastard. God, I love him.

"Billie, breathe." Dr. Whatshisname says. Something with an 'L', right? "Billie what happened is not your fault."

"I KNOW THAT! Don't you think I sit up every night and tell myself that? And that if I wasn't drunk or stoned or if I was taller or if I had screamed louder . . ."

"You didn't fail." He's calm and I fucking hate him for that.

And I hear music in my head. I hear lines in my head. I can't hear the doctor. Everything's blurry.

In a world without empathy
I just want some sympathy
Why can't you give it to me?

"No! I don't want sympathy." I'm suffocating. I'm drawning in air. I yank the door open. I'm breathing too fast. Shallow breaths that don't let any air into my lungs.

Mike's POV

I saw him fall. He tripped and got up. He's having an attack. I get up, hands on the side of his face. "Breathe. Billie, deep breaths. 1 . . . 2 . . . 3."

The doctor is moving down the hallway as Billie's breathing slows. "Is he all right?"

"Three months." I glare at him. "Three months since it's been that bad. I hope you fucking rot!"

"Mike, stop it. Let's go." billie grabs my arm and pulls me out the door. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to find another doctor, Billie." I fucking promised him it would help. I lied.

"I'm going to."

Billie's POV

It's just good to talk. I can't tell Mike everything. I'll just leave the rape out next time. No one needs to know about that anymore. I'm going to forget it. No more 14ths, no more freaking out during rough sex. It's over. I'm burying it.

Mike's POV

It's a lunch neither one of us wants, but we eat so we don't have to talk. Billie's drinking wine like there's no tomorrow even though he hates wine.

"Billie, do you want to tell me what--"

"He made me talk about things I didn't want to talk about. Drop it."

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think he's drinking too much. It's only one and we've gone through three bottles of wine. Well, he's gone through three bottles of wine. One of us should be sober during the drive home.

"Mike, when did you fall in love with me?" he asks.

"When I was twelve." The waiter comes over with the check and I hand him my Visa.

It never fails to impress me how Billie can become completely sober in seconds. "Since you were twelve?"

I smile. "I didn't know it was love, Billie. I didn't know what it was." I lower my voice. "The first time I beat off it was to you."

He smiles slowly. "It scared the hell out of me the first time I did that."

"Because of the bi thing?

"Because of your face." He laughs and grabs my hand. "I still beat off to you, Mike."

For something so obscene, it's pretty damn romantic.

Billie's POV

We dind't mean for it to happen. To be honest, I can't believe this didn't happen sooner. Mike and I weren't exactly great at hiding our public displays of affection.

There were a few rumours, but there always are. We never denied them. Actually, Tre once said Mike and I couldn't keep our hands off of each other. Kind of ironic how you can tell the truth and people dismiss it.

***FLASHBACK***

"Tre, I need to talk to you." Mike didn't know I was doing this. Not that he told me not to, we just hadn't discussed it.

"What's up?" We were on the bus. Mike was crashed in a bed. Mine, actually.

"Well, the thing is, Mike and I--"

"Have secretly been screwing for the past few months while I advert my eyes and pretend not to notice the sounds coming from your room?" He laughs and lights up a cigarette.

"You knew?" I croak out.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Billie, I knew. I've known since August." He puts on a falsetto voice. "'Oh, Mike, right there. Oh, yes.'" His voice returns to normal. "Don't scream out people's names if you don't want anyone else to hear, Billie."

I have a tinge of pink on my cheeks. "Do you care?"

"No." He kind of shrugs as he said it. "I knew you were bi and I didn't care then. It's cool."

The door opens and Mike emerges from the back of the bus, yawning and running a hand through his hair. "What's up?"

"Tre knows." I tell him.

"Yeah?" Mike asks.

"Yeah." Tre said. "And I just told Billie I don't care. Just don't fuck on my bed or anything."

Typical Tre.

"So, are you guys going to tell the fans or do an interview or say it at a concert, or what?"

Mike and I exchange glances. "Look, we don't want the band to take a fall for this. I mean, if it were just me and Mike . . . but it's all three of us. You don't need to take a fall for us, Tre. We'll keep it quiet."

"Don't be stupid." Tre's got a really weird look on his face like he thinks we're really stupid or something. "Better to go down swinging for something like that than some other bullshit like a bad record the critics don't like."

"We're not telling." Mike says.

"Fine."

But that night Tre went out and bought three baseball bats and left one in each of our bunks. 'For when you decide to go down swinging.'

He's never been sentimental. I still have that bat.

***END FLASHBACK***

Jakob's birthday. Cake, ice cream. A nicer resteraunt, but one that does the whole candles in the cake thing. It's just us. He'll have a birthday party this weekend. We're waiting for food and the kids are eating appetizers while Mike and I try and get Stella to stop writing all over the table. (You know, those crayons they give to kids to colour the menu with?)

We're waiting for the food and Mike and I are holding hands over the table. We're all laughing at Joey. He's telling some joke and he can't remember the punch line, so he keeps making them up. Plus, he's got this smudge of ketchup on his right cheek. Jakob keeps poking it. My kids are so fucked up.

And then suddenly there's a reporter there with a camera and there's a huge blinding flash of light and Mike and I are all too aware that we've got our hands linked on top of the table. He's kissed me at least five times since we've been here. "Shit."

"Billie Joe, Mike? Is it true that you are involved in a more than friendly relationship?" They seem to be oblivious to the fact that we're out with our kids, that they're asking these questions in front of our kids.

And I look at Joey. He's confused. I keep telling him there's nothing wrong with Mike and me being together and that there's nothing wrong with guys being with guys or girls being with girls. I keep telling him all this and I won't tell a reporter that we're married. Because I'm afraid. Yeah, I'm afraid the band will take a hit for it, but I'm more afraid of a reaction. Which is weird for me because I usually don't give a shit.

But Joey's just looking at me, eyes huge and confused. And I-I can't do it. I can't lie. I can't send him mixed messages anymore. I've got to quit being such a damn hypocrite.

Mike looks at me and gives me a small nod. He knows what I'm thinking and he's sick of it, too. "Time to get out the baseball bats." he says as I turn to the reporter.

"Yes."

Her eyes widen. She didn't expect that answer. I don't think she expected an answer at all.

"Mike and I have been together since last March. We're married."

Tre's POV

I was flipping through the channels looking for something when I say Mike and Billie with the kids on some entertainment channel.

Billie looks straight at the camera. "Mike and I have been together since March. We're married."

Thank God! I was wondering when they'd get the fuck over this whole 'bad for the band' shit and actually say something.

Score!

---

Okay. I'm doing the prolouge and then I'm ready to start Part 2 of this Series.