Slip of a Boy

Title: Slip of a Boy.
Author: Sarah Elizabeth (Karma Killer)
Summary: Set up in chapters, but basically a series of vignettes chronicling the downfall of Billie Joe's marriage and the growth of his relationship with Mike.
Rating: NC-17
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.

Author's Notes: I know the length of chapters has been unbalanced and sporadic. I really can't do anything about that apart from apologizing. To be completely honest I've never been good at this novel-length stuff. I'm more of a one shot writer, but I thought I'd give it another go. Especially since this fandom is...undeniable. Absolutely addicting. So I hope you stay with me and give it a chance.

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Curious Downfall

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"So it's really happening?" Tre asked, the usual glimmer of mischief in his eyes missing at the moment.

"Seems that way," Billie answered softly, still swaying the ballpoint pen over the stark black and white signature area.

"Maybe not the best time to say this...but you know me and appropriate timing..." When Tre's attempt to make Billie Joe smile failed, he found his voice trailing off into the tense air.

Billie Joe looked up at him, silently waiting for him to continue. His expression read nothing.

"...But we, me and Mike I mean, we always thought you two would make it. Picket fence and all that shit."

Billie didn't say anything, so Tre fell back into silence as well. He watched Billie Joe continue to torture himself over the papers. Tre had been there when they arrived, He and Mike both. An intervention had been the original plan, but such an arrival had put a stopper on their schedule. He had half expected Billie Joe to lash out, break something, react at least. But the slender man had accepted them crisply, handling the papers preciously, as if they were the finest of porcelain; or as if they would burn him if he held on to tightly. Tre couldn't decide which.

Maybe the divorce had been a long time coming, maybe it was new flames licking at an old wound. Tre didn't know the ins and outs of the relationship. Of course, Billie Joe had stopped talking about anything personal a long time ago. He had also stopped sharing his lyrics with Tre and Mike, just letting the words flood out of him like the very blood pumping through his veins and then hoarding them like a pack rat.

If only Billie Joe had the bland dexterity of a pack rat; but no. Billie Joe was an emotional timebomb. Mike had put it perfectly once, Tre mused, Billie Joe was 'A luxurious disease of sensation'.

As if on cue, the tall bassist re-entered the room and deposited three cold beers on the table with one hand. Tre took his with the grace of a half-starved wild dog, but Billie Joe merely looked up at the sudden noise. He watched the bottle before him with disinterest, taking time only to note the drop of condensation running down the label.

Tre had about enough at this point. Snatching up the bottle in front of Billie, he placed it to the side so he could look at his bandmate. "Stop torturing yourself and sign the goddamn thing already," he snipped.

This seemed to catch Billie's attention. Mike took a deep breath and waited.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Billie said, the briefest shadow of a sharp glare flitting across his soft features.

"Billie-"

"You can leave too Mike."

The two bandmates shared a look before Tre shook his head and made a withering gesture with his hands. "I can take a hint. This band was over long before it started anyways. You just had to drive us into the ground didn't you?"

"Tre stop," Mike interjected, pushing Tre towards the door as the drummer began to get heated. Billie Joe remained facing away, still sitting at the table. Still holding the papers. He didn't say a word.

"You just had to take us with you!" Tre yelled, fighting against Mike's restraint.

"Stop before you say something you don't mean," Mike said firmly. Pushing Tre into the foyer and opening the door. Tre shrugged off Mike's hold and straightened his jacket. "Your writing's for shit anyways!" he called back to the kitchen where Billie Joe sat. He looked at Mike again before walking through the door. Mike sighed, shutting the door behind him. and turning around to lean his back against the cool wood.

He stared in the direction of the kitchen before he got the nerve to face Billie Joe again. He hadn't moved, not an inch. His knuckles were beginning to turn white from his death grip on the papers.

"You can't do this alone, Billie," Mike murmured, fighting the emotion in his voice. He had to do this carefully.

The smaller man stared at Mike for a good long minute before picking up the pen again. "You don't know what I can do," he snapped, quickly scrawling his name across the final line.

Mike's breathing hitched.

"You don't know me at all," Billie continued, rising with the papers and walking past Mike into the lounge.

"I don't know you?" Mike asked, flabbergasted. "I don't know you after two fucking decades together?"

"You know what you want to know," Billie said, refusing to make eye contact. He flitted across the room like a windup monkey, unable to rest in one place for more than a few seconds.

"I know more than you give me credit for Billie Joe. I know you're scared. I know you're just this little slip of a boy yearning for the care you never had growing up. You're fucking begging for it. No one ever listened, did they?"

Billie Joe ceased his pacing. "You better shut the fuck up, Mike."

"Or what? You want to hit me again? Will that help? Will that make it all better?"

Billie Joe's mouth had opened for verbal retaliation when the doorbell rang, breaking across the room like a foreboding gong.

The two men remained staring at each other across the room, Billie Joe breathing heavily, practically seething with fury. Biting down on his bottom lip, he finally broke his gaze and headed for the door. He swung the barrier open quickly, more than ready to berate the offender on the other side.

"Daddy?"

Billie Joe looked right into Adrienne's eyes and then down at the little voice, the inquisitive one of his eldest son Joey. He knelt on the step, taking the boy into his arms. "Hey sport, how's my boy?"

"Mom took us to the aquarium!" he practically squealed, proudly brandishing a stuffed shark from behind his back. "I see that," Billie said, ruffling Joey's hair fondly.

A movement caught his eye and he found Jakob clinging to Adrienne's leg, hiding half his face behind her knee.

"Hey buddy, come give dad a hug," he encouraged, reaching out for his younger son. But Jakob moved away, concealing himself further behind his mother.

"Jake-"

"I don't really have time for this," Adrienne finally said, folding her arms impatiently.

Billie Joe stood again, taking her in. The same old Adie: t-shirt and jeans. Brown and blonde dreadlocks haphazardly pulled back from her face where a few ringlets fell around her cheeks. She was a sight, as always, but she didn't look tired. She didn't look sad. She looked determined.

"Because your schedule was always so full before," Billie said viciously.

Adrienne sighed, pulling Jakob away from her leg and pushing the small boy towards his father. "Say goodbye to your father," she said sternly, her voice sounding strained for the first time in months.

"We get to stay with grandma!" Joey said enthusiastically, and Billie Joe plastered a lying smile on his face. He tried to approach his younger son again, this time managing to catch Jakob by the wrist. The boy began to pull away but Billie wrapped him up tight in his arms. "I love you Jakob. Don't you forget that," he whispered against his son's hair. "You too Joey, come here." He took both his sons in his arms, and for a moment seemed unwilling to ever let them go.

Adrienne cleared her throat. "Boys, go wait in the car." At the sound of Joey's protests, she pointed wordlessly in the direction of the car. Billie watched dejectedly as Joey took his brother's hand and walked him away.

"I need the papers, Billie."

"Don't do this to me," he said, ignoring her request but clenching the signed papers tightly to his chest.

"You're an unfit guardian. You know that. We all know that, Billie Joe."

"I can work harder," he pleaded, the desperation for his children getting the best of his disintegrating pride.

"You can work yourself into the ground, Billie Joe," she said, shaking her head sadly. "You can work at the studio until sunset, you can work the clubs until dawn. You can work to the bottom of the bottle. You can work the tour until the end of next year."

He was silent as she ran a hand down the side of his face. He didn't even bother to flinch.

"This is for the best," she said, looking at him with pity masked as sentiment. She took the papers from his limp hands, hesitating a moment as they slid so easily from his grip.
Then she walked away.

Billie watched as she got into the car, started the engine and backed down the drive. It brought back memories of all the previous times he had done this very same thing. But back then she was just taking the boys to the park, the grocery store, to school or a play date. Back then she wasn't taking them away.

The tears began to fall as he watched Joey mash his stuffed shark against the backseat window while waving goodbye with his other tiny hand.

Billie Joe collapsed in his own doorway. His knees simply gave out and he sat bonelessly at the threshold, his entire body shaking with sobs.

Mike knelt behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Billie gasped at the sudden sensation and fell back against his best friend. Choosing to completely ignore where they had left off, the smaller man buried his face into Mike's shoulder, desperately gripped handfuls of his shirt, and let his tears soak into the material.

The bassist ran a hand soothingly through Billie's hair, over and over, waiting for the sobs to subside. After a few minutes, Billie Joe finally stilled and became slack in Mike's arms. His words were sudden and cracked against the dryness of his throat.

"Did you mean it?" he asked softly, not moving from Mike's embrace.

"Mean what?" Mike traced a hand down the line of Billie's back through his shirt.

"When you said you'd fix me." Billie shuddered against him.

Mike smiled peacefully. "Yes," he murmured, taking Billie's face in his hands and forcing the smaller man to look at him, "Yes, I did."

"And when you kissed me," Billie sniffed, "did you mean that as well?"

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I don't know if that went exactly as planned, but let me know what you think anyways. Hopefully won't be too long before I pump out another chapter. :D

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