Five Senses
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,951
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,951
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Green Day. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 3
Title: Five Senses
Author: Sarah Elizabeth (Karma Killer)
Summary: After an accident, Billie Joe is rendered blind.
Rating: R (possibly NC-17 later)
Pairing(s): Billie Joe/Mike Dirnt
Feedback: desired.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the arrangement of words. Completely non-profit and completely hormonal.
-
Chapter 3
-
Billie Joe didn't wake up again for a long time.
But Mike stayed by his side all through the night and the following morning. Tre had poked his head in around 6am to inform Mike that he was taking Adrienne home and that she would return to visit him later that day.
Tre didn't bother saying when he would be back. Mike didn't bother asking. He was starting to feel as though he was the only one who would be able to carry this...
...burden?
Since when had Billie Joe become a burden? Billie was a genius. A musical god. A best friend and a decent husband. Again, Mike found himself at a breaking point. The frustration and anger just kept building until the bassist felt he couldn't take it any longer.
And then he'd look across the bed, the huge ivory bed completely swallowing Billie Joe's seemingly serene form, and he would convince himself to let the fury go. He had to be the rock this time. However unfair and unprecedented the hand Billie Joe had been dealt was.
As promised, the frazzled female nurse had returned within the hour to re-apply Billie's blood-stained head bandaging. Although, this time, she had come back with a much more gentle composure. She looked at Mike with a sad expression, and then to Billie Joe with one of pity. Mike wasn't sure if he liked that or not.
Billie Joe was not to be pitied, in the bassist's opinion. He was to be adored and idolized and lusted after. Pity was not worthy of him.
Such thoughts were swept up as the nurse had bustled by with her supplies, persuading Mike to back away from the bed's edge at least for a few minutes so she could do her job properly.
Billie Joe didn't wake up during the entire procedure, which instead of comforting Mike, only served to alarm him further. The nurse was forced to insist that his extended slumber was a good sign, that he was being equipped with the rest and repair time his body needed to cope with the trauma it had experienced.
"Give it time," she said firmly.
Mike still worried and his stress was pushed over the line as he had watched her unwrap the old bandages. He couldn't stifle the gasp that rose in his throat when he saw what lay beneath the worn fabric.
Billie Joe's eyes were closed. By the looks of them, Mike feared they would never re-open. Each lid seemed sealed shut by a thick line of scarring and dried blood. The fragile flesh of the lids was marred by a sea of tiny red scratches. The numerous injuries had caused the entire area around each eye to become purple with swelling, as if Billie Joe had suffered some bad luck with two pop flies in the outfield.
"Oh they'll open. No doubt about that. They'll open when they're good and ready." The nurse's sudden voice caused Mike to choke down a fresh sob rising from his chest. "They wont look the same though," she added, "You know that right?"
She was giving Mike that look again; that sad piteous expression. Mike nodded in an answer but was unable to stop the dread washing over him at such a thought. He couldn't picture Billie Joe without those fascinatingly vibrant hazel eyes.
He didn't want to.
Mike had looked away as the nurse finished wrapping the fresh gauze around Billie's eyes. He was holding his breath as she secured the bandaging at the back of his head with a clip. Mike hated knowing that whether or not the bandages were there, Billie Joe was in darkness, and that he would be for the rest of his life.
He felt the fury returning, especially when the orderly gave him another one of those looks before recollecting her things and quietly exiting the room.
Mike pulled back his chair and resumed his place by Billie Joe's side. He fought the urge to hold that freezing hand again; he didn't want to wake the smaller man. For one, he needed the rest, and for another thing, Mike was still afraid of how Billie would react once he was lucid. If one judged by Mike's earlier encounter, Billie Joe's next confrontation would not go over too well.
The bassist reclined in the chair, grimacing as he felt the muscles in his neck and back attempt to readjust. He had been awake for quite a long time; awake and sitting.
Waiting.
Mike was tired of waiting. His eyes were no doubt bloodshot and rivaling the circles of Billie Joe's. He immediately made a mental note to never compare his sufferings to Billie Joe's again. It just seemed horribly immoral.
Billie Joe always used to say that because he had money, that people would never understand his real problems, that they wouldn't be able to see past the monetary value of what he did. Now Billie Joe would really be alone.
Around noon, Mike couldn't take the small dark room anymore, it was beginning to suffocate him. He figured a coffee break was well overdue and exited the room quietly. He made sure the door slipped shut softly and made his was down the corridor. now bustling with life despite the sterile depressing undertones of the entire facility.
He approached the coffee vending machine skeptically, having prior knowledge and experience of the horrors that await you in hospital food. However, an energy boost was necessary, so he found him self reluctantly filling a white paper cup with the unsavory muddy substance.
Two prestigious-looking young male doctors in long white coats passed by and Mike found himself ducking his head slightly out of their view. He caught a brief segment of their conversation and wished he hadn't.
"Yeah, 203, the hotshot celebrity."
"Blinded?"
"Optical nerve damage. He's in the permanent dark," muttered one of the doctors, pasting a nauseating smirk across his face.
"That should knock him down a few rungs. Teach him the real meaning of alienation," the second doctor snickered nastily.
The front of the doctor's lab coat was stained in coffee before Mike even registered what he had done. When it finally clicked, he found himself utterly seething. It took everything in him not to knock the snide practitioner's jaw off his face. He decided that given his celebrity, and the incredibly public surroundings that vicious rhetoric would have to suffice.
"It's good to know that our loved ones are in such considerate hands," he spat, tossing the now-empty cup at the other doctor. He strode back down the corridor before the two dumbstruck men could even get a word out of their gaping mouths.
When he arrived back at Billie Joe's door he was surprised to hear lowered voices from inside. He could barely make out the muffled tones, but was able to determine that Billie was apparently awake again.
"...want to go home," he heard Billie whimper.
"Soon, you'll come home soon." The other voice belonged to Adrienne and was surprisingly gentle and soothing.
"You been here all day, man?" Tre's sudden inquiry nearly caused Mike to jump out of his skin. "Christ, go home. get some sleep," he added and stood up from the chair he had been inhabiting the night before.
"Yeah," Mike said, still startled. He cleared his throat. "I probably should," he murmured, although leaving Billie Joe's side was the last thing on his mind entirely. "How is she?" he asked Tre, referring to Adrienne.
"She's ok I guess. But fuck did she cry last night. I didn't think she'd ever stop," Tre said ruefully and Mike nodded.
Something about visiting Billie Joe with Adrienne and Tre present seemed somewhat unappealing so he made the conscious decision to take Tre's advice and attempt some form of relaxation, if it was at all possible.
"Tell him I was here...and that I'll see him later tonight," he requested.
"Sure man," Tre answered, turning the knob of Billie's door slowly. "Get some rest, ok?" he added before stepping into the darkened room.
Mike caught a fleeting glance of Adrienne perched on the end of Billie's bed. Sighing, he turned on his heel and started his way back home.
-
Author's Note: I know I'm taking this slowly, and that it's annoying the hell out of some of you, but I think in the end you will all thank me for it because it will be a better story. I'm taking my time to think everything through and to understand my characters and their motives better, so I hope it will show through in the value of the story. Again, Thank you for all your kind reviews. They are what keep me writing!
Side Note: I've actually been writing this thing in the dark! Shutting my own blinds and only using the computer light. I find it really sets the mood and allows me to write the story more accurately. It's just a quirk I've developed for this story that I thought I'd share, lol.
Author: Sarah Elizabeth (Karma Killer)
Summary: After an accident, Billie Joe is rendered blind.
Rating: R (possibly NC-17 later)
Pairing(s): Billie Joe/Mike Dirnt
Feedback: desired.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the arrangement of words. Completely non-profit and completely hormonal.
-
Chapter 3
-
Billie Joe didn't wake up again for a long time.
But Mike stayed by his side all through the night and the following morning. Tre had poked his head in around 6am to inform Mike that he was taking Adrienne home and that she would return to visit him later that day.
Tre didn't bother saying when he would be back. Mike didn't bother asking. He was starting to feel as though he was the only one who would be able to carry this...
...burden?
Since when had Billie Joe become a burden? Billie was a genius. A musical god. A best friend and a decent husband. Again, Mike found himself at a breaking point. The frustration and anger just kept building until the bassist felt he couldn't take it any longer.
And then he'd look across the bed, the huge ivory bed completely swallowing Billie Joe's seemingly serene form, and he would convince himself to let the fury go. He had to be the rock this time. However unfair and unprecedented the hand Billie Joe had been dealt was.
As promised, the frazzled female nurse had returned within the hour to re-apply Billie's blood-stained head bandaging. Although, this time, she had come back with a much more gentle composure. She looked at Mike with a sad expression, and then to Billie Joe with one of pity. Mike wasn't sure if he liked that or not.
Billie Joe was not to be pitied, in the bassist's opinion. He was to be adored and idolized and lusted after. Pity was not worthy of him.
Such thoughts were swept up as the nurse had bustled by with her supplies, persuading Mike to back away from the bed's edge at least for a few minutes so she could do her job properly.
Billie Joe didn't wake up during the entire procedure, which instead of comforting Mike, only served to alarm him further. The nurse was forced to insist that his extended slumber was a good sign, that he was being equipped with the rest and repair time his body needed to cope with the trauma it had experienced.
"Give it time," she said firmly.
Mike still worried and his stress was pushed over the line as he had watched her unwrap the old bandages. He couldn't stifle the gasp that rose in his throat when he saw what lay beneath the worn fabric.
Billie Joe's eyes were closed. By the looks of them, Mike feared they would never re-open. Each lid seemed sealed shut by a thick line of scarring and dried blood. The fragile flesh of the lids was marred by a sea of tiny red scratches. The numerous injuries had caused the entire area around each eye to become purple with swelling, as if Billie Joe had suffered some bad luck with two pop flies in the outfield.
"Oh they'll open. No doubt about that. They'll open when they're good and ready." The nurse's sudden voice caused Mike to choke down a fresh sob rising from his chest. "They wont look the same though," she added, "You know that right?"
She was giving Mike that look again; that sad piteous expression. Mike nodded in an answer but was unable to stop the dread washing over him at such a thought. He couldn't picture Billie Joe without those fascinatingly vibrant hazel eyes.
He didn't want to.
Mike had looked away as the nurse finished wrapping the fresh gauze around Billie's eyes. He was holding his breath as she secured the bandaging at the back of his head with a clip. Mike hated knowing that whether or not the bandages were there, Billie Joe was in darkness, and that he would be for the rest of his life.
He felt the fury returning, especially when the orderly gave him another one of those looks before recollecting her things and quietly exiting the room.
Mike pulled back his chair and resumed his place by Billie Joe's side. He fought the urge to hold that freezing hand again; he didn't want to wake the smaller man. For one, he needed the rest, and for another thing, Mike was still afraid of how Billie would react once he was lucid. If one judged by Mike's earlier encounter, Billie Joe's next confrontation would not go over too well.
The bassist reclined in the chair, grimacing as he felt the muscles in his neck and back attempt to readjust. He had been awake for quite a long time; awake and sitting.
Waiting.
Mike was tired of waiting. His eyes were no doubt bloodshot and rivaling the circles of Billie Joe's. He immediately made a mental note to never compare his sufferings to Billie Joe's again. It just seemed horribly immoral.
Billie Joe always used to say that because he had money, that people would never understand his real problems, that they wouldn't be able to see past the monetary value of what he did. Now Billie Joe would really be alone.
Around noon, Mike couldn't take the small dark room anymore, it was beginning to suffocate him. He figured a coffee break was well overdue and exited the room quietly. He made sure the door slipped shut softly and made his was down the corridor. now bustling with life despite the sterile depressing undertones of the entire facility.
He approached the coffee vending machine skeptically, having prior knowledge and experience of the horrors that await you in hospital food. However, an energy boost was necessary, so he found him self reluctantly filling a white paper cup with the unsavory muddy substance.
Two prestigious-looking young male doctors in long white coats passed by and Mike found himself ducking his head slightly out of their view. He caught a brief segment of their conversation and wished he hadn't.
"Yeah, 203, the hotshot celebrity."
"Blinded?"
"Optical nerve damage. He's in the permanent dark," muttered one of the doctors, pasting a nauseating smirk across his face.
"That should knock him down a few rungs. Teach him the real meaning of alienation," the second doctor snickered nastily.
The front of the doctor's lab coat was stained in coffee before Mike even registered what he had done. When it finally clicked, he found himself utterly seething. It took everything in him not to knock the snide practitioner's jaw off his face. He decided that given his celebrity, and the incredibly public surroundings that vicious rhetoric would have to suffice.
"It's good to know that our loved ones are in such considerate hands," he spat, tossing the now-empty cup at the other doctor. He strode back down the corridor before the two dumbstruck men could even get a word out of their gaping mouths.
When he arrived back at Billie Joe's door he was surprised to hear lowered voices from inside. He could barely make out the muffled tones, but was able to determine that Billie was apparently awake again.
"...want to go home," he heard Billie whimper.
"Soon, you'll come home soon." The other voice belonged to Adrienne and was surprisingly gentle and soothing.
"You been here all day, man?" Tre's sudden inquiry nearly caused Mike to jump out of his skin. "Christ, go home. get some sleep," he added and stood up from the chair he had been inhabiting the night before.
"Yeah," Mike said, still startled. He cleared his throat. "I probably should," he murmured, although leaving Billie Joe's side was the last thing on his mind entirely. "How is she?" he asked Tre, referring to Adrienne.
"She's ok I guess. But fuck did she cry last night. I didn't think she'd ever stop," Tre said ruefully and Mike nodded.
Something about visiting Billie Joe with Adrienne and Tre present seemed somewhat unappealing so he made the conscious decision to take Tre's advice and attempt some form of relaxation, if it was at all possible.
"Tell him I was here...and that I'll see him later tonight," he requested.
"Sure man," Tre answered, turning the knob of Billie's door slowly. "Get some rest, ok?" he added before stepping into the darkened room.
Mike caught a fleeting glance of Adrienne perched on the end of Billie's bed. Sighing, he turned on his heel and started his way back home.
-
Author's Note: I know I'm taking this slowly, and that it's annoying the hell out of some of you, but I think in the end you will all thank me for it because it will be a better story. I'm taking my time to think everything through and to understand my characters and their motives better, so I hope it will show through in the value of the story. Again, Thank you for all your kind reviews. They are what keep me writing!
Side Note: I've actually been writing this thing in the dark! Shutting my own blinds and only using the computer light. I find it really sets the mood and allows me to write the story more accurately. It's just a quirk I've developed for this story that I thought I'd share, lol.