Five Senses
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,961
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,961
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 5
Title: Five Senses
Author: Sarah Elizabeth (Karma Killer)
Summary: After an accident, Billie Joe is rendered blind.
Rating: R (possibly NC-17 later)
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mike Dirnt
Feedback: desired.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the arrangement of words. Completely non-profit and completely hormonal.
-
Chapter 5
-
His life seemed to have fallen prey to a vicious cycle in and out between hazy consciousness. Mike was starting to confuse where the days were beginning and where they were coming to a close.
When he woke this time, it was more disconcerting than ever. Instead of the quiet, albeit tension-filled room he had dozed off in, he was suddenly amidst what appeared to be a muffled frenzy of sorts.
He had barely opened his eyes before his ears were assaulted with a multitude of dulled voices, some familiar, others not. He rubbed at the back of his neck, now sore from the rigid recline of the hospital chair and sat up, blinking, somewhat bewildered, about the suddenly noisy surroundings.
Almost immediately upon regaining full lucidity, Mike recognized the sharp burn of the camera flash and was out of his chair in seconds, confronting the intruder.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing in here?" Mike spat into his face.
"The public has a right to know!" the journalist shouted as Mike ripped the offending camera from the man's puny grasp. He threw the camera across the floor, watching in satisfaction as it shattered into a multitude of plastic and glass.
"They have a right to know," the balding man said more quietly. Mike detected a certain fear in him as he pushed his too-large glasses back up on the bridge of his nose.
Smirking, Mike took the stumpy little photographer by his shirt lapels and lifted him off the ground, pushing him back towards the door.
"They have a right to know who stole that little girl's life!" he shouted, irate once more and flinging a pointed hand accusingly toward Billie Joe's bed.
The man's furious words stopped Mike for a moment, and he looked down at the feeble man in his grasp.
"What are you talking about?" he asked. When he refused to answer and pasted a sneer on his face, Mike got the door open and flung the pestering journalist out into a sea of people that had apparently gathered overnight outside Billie Joe's hospital room. Many were taking pictures, holding out photos of the band to him with pens clutched in their hands. Some had left flowers it seemed, much of which had been trampled under the feet of hormonal teenagers, and some were screaming at the mere sight of him.
It was sickening, all of it.
A minimal wave of relief washed over the bassist as he caught sight of the three security officers attempting to keep things under control while at the same time calling for assistance. They stood between Mike and the mob, desperately fending off fans and the cutthroat media alike.
A more in depth glace around the corridor led Mike to Adrienne and Tre in the far corner, behind the front desk. They seemed to be speaking nervously with the personnel who was dialing up her phone and nodding to them patiently.
After a few moments of speaking with the nurse, who was now cradling the receiver on one shoulder, Adrienne's hand flew to her mouth and Mike knew instantly that nothing good was about to come his way. Her eyes met his across the crowded mass and she began shaking her head in a mixture of sorrow and disbelief.
Mike turned his gaze from her heartbreaking expression and abandoned the screeching public, backing his way into Billie Joe's dimmed room once again. He shut the door behind him, thankful to block out the grating voices and incessant crackling of camera bulbs.
"Oh god."
Mike's head whipped toward the anguished sound. Billie Joe was awake.
"Oh god, I've killer her," he wailed, sitting up far too fast in his condition. Mike flew to the side of his bed and took Billie Joe's cold shaking hands in his own.
"Calm down," he whispered soothingly to his best friend. "We don't know anything for sure."
"You heard him!" Billie Joe cried, his disposition becoming more and more panicked as the seconds ticked by.
"He was just some tabloid fuck with a camera, Billie Joe, it doesn't mean anything."
Nothing Mike said seemed to make any difference. The smaller man continued to shake, so deeply that he was causing Mike's hands to tremble with his own. The bassist squeezed them, trying to slow their palpitations.
After a long silence, Billie Joe opened his mouth to speak again. His already hoarse voice was so lowered that Mike could scarcely make out his words.
"I saw her," he said. He slight frame was unmoving, completely rigid; his head facing out straight in front of him. The sight was somewhat eerie.
"What do you mean?" Mike asked, swallowing a lump of trepidation down his throat.
"Right before...before we hit. I saw her face in the window."
Mike ran the back of his palm over the side of Billie Joe's face. "It's not your fault," he murmured, despite the sick feeling in his stomach.
The smaller man simply shook his head stubbornly and sniffed. The sound broke Mike into pieces.
"She was so little," Billie whispered into the air. "So young."
Mike bit his lip so hard he feared he was drawing blood from the innocent appendage. "Please stop," Mike begged.
"Stop what?" Billie Joe asked, taking his hands from Mike's. He curled them into his own shaking lap.
"Stop blaming yourself."
Billie turned to face him, as if he would if he could actually see Mike. The bassist could practically imagine the defiant gleam that would be in those eyes. "There's no one else to blame," he said as if it were a matter-of-fact ordeal.
"There were two cars, Billie Joe. Two. Not one."
"Yeah, I can add Mike," Billie spat venomously.
"Then add this up in your puny fucking brain. It's. Not. Your. Fault."
Another silence lapsed over the two men and they were left to listen to the repetitive heart monitor's beep filling the room. It would be an understatement to say that Mike was growing incredibly tired of that sound.
Somehow, despite their brief quarrel, Billie's hand had found its way back into Mikes and was threading through his fingers. The touch was feather light and fragile, hesitant almost.
"She had a red ribbon in her hair," Billie Joe said softly. "I don't...I don't remember much else about her. It all happened so fast. One minute I'm...and the next..." he trailed off a moment, seeming to collect his bearings before continuing. "Just that ribbon. So vibrant...like a ruby."
Mike didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply did not respond to it all.
"Mike?" Billie Joe asked, his voice feeble and childlike.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," Billie said slowly. Mike didn't have to ask what for. He already knew.
-
Yeah so, Hi! Haha. I've been MIA for awhile, I know. Same excuses, blah blah blah. That coupled with laziness led me to not updating for so long. My apologies and I hope you enjoyed. I know this one was kind of short, but it just seemed appropriate to end the chapter where I did. And yes, I promise an actual plot will start occurring soon. :D
Author: Sarah Elizabeth (Karma Killer)
Summary: After an accident, Billie Joe is rendered blind.
Rating: R (possibly NC-17 later)
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mike Dirnt
Feedback: desired.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the arrangement of words. Completely non-profit and completely hormonal.
-
Chapter 5
-
His life seemed to have fallen prey to a vicious cycle in and out between hazy consciousness. Mike was starting to confuse where the days were beginning and where they were coming to a close.
When he woke this time, it was more disconcerting than ever. Instead of the quiet, albeit tension-filled room he had dozed off in, he was suddenly amidst what appeared to be a muffled frenzy of sorts.
He had barely opened his eyes before his ears were assaulted with a multitude of dulled voices, some familiar, others not. He rubbed at the back of his neck, now sore from the rigid recline of the hospital chair and sat up, blinking, somewhat bewildered, about the suddenly noisy surroundings.
Almost immediately upon regaining full lucidity, Mike recognized the sharp burn of the camera flash and was out of his chair in seconds, confronting the intruder.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing in here?" Mike spat into his face.
"The public has a right to know!" the journalist shouted as Mike ripped the offending camera from the man's puny grasp. He threw the camera across the floor, watching in satisfaction as it shattered into a multitude of plastic and glass.
"They have a right to know," the balding man said more quietly. Mike detected a certain fear in him as he pushed his too-large glasses back up on the bridge of his nose.
Smirking, Mike took the stumpy little photographer by his shirt lapels and lifted him off the ground, pushing him back towards the door.
"They have a right to know who stole that little girl's life!" he shouted, irate once more and flinging a pointed hand accusingly toward Billie Joe's bed.
The man's furious words stopped Mike for a moment, and he looked down at the feeble man in his grasp.
"What are you talking about?" he asked. When he refused to answer and pasted a sneer on his face, Mike got the door open and flung the pestering journalist out into a sea of people that had apparently gathered overnight outside Billie Joe's hospital room. Many were taking pictures, holding out photos of the band to him with pens clutched in their hands. Some had left flowers it seemed, much of which had been trampled under the feet of hormonal teenagers, and some were screaming at the mere sight of him.
It was sickening, all of it.
A minimal wave of relief washed over the bassist as he caught sight of the three security officers attempting to keep things under control while at the same time calling for assistance. They stood between Mike and the mob, desperately fending off fans and the cutthroat media alike.
A more in depth glace around the corridor led Mike to Adrienne and Tre in the far corner, behind the front desk. They seemed to be speaking nervously with the personnel who was dialing up her phone and nodding to them patiently.
After a few moments of speaking with the nurse, who was now cradling the receiver on one shoulder, Adrienne's hand flew to her mouth and Mike knew instantly that nothing good was about to come his way. Her eyes met his across the crowded mass and she began shaking her head in a mixture of sorrow and disbelief.
Mike turned his gaze from her heartbreaking expression and abandoned the screeching public, backing his way into Billie Joe's dimmed room once again. He shut the door behind him, thankful to block out the grating voices and incessant crackling of camera bulbs.
"Oh god."
Mike's head whipped toward the anguished sound. Billie Joe was awake.
"Oh god, I've killer her," he wailed, sitting up far too fast in his condition. Mike flew to the side of his bed and took Billie Joe's cold shaking hands in his own.
"Calm down," he whispered soothingly to his best friend. "We don't know anything for sure."
"You heard him!" Billie Joe cried, his disposition becoming more and more panicked as the seconds ticked by.
"He was just some tabloid fuck with a camera, Billie Joe, it doesn't mean anything."
Nothing Mike said seemed to make any difference. The smaller man continued to shake, so deeply that he was causing Mike's hands to tremble with his own. The bassist squeezed them, trying to slow their palpitations.
After a long silence, Billie Joe opened his mouth to speak again. His already hoarse voice was so lowered that Mike could scarcely make out his words.
"I saw her," he said. He slight frame was unmoving, completely rigid; his head facing out straight in front of him. The sight was somewhat eerie.
"What do you mean?" Mike asked, swallowing a lump of trepidation down his throat.
"Right before...before we hit. I saw her face in the window."
Mike ran the back of his palm over the side of Billie Joe's face. "It's not your fault," he murmured, despite the sick feeling in his stomach.
The smaller man simply shook his head stubbornly and sniffed. The sound broke Mike into pieces.
"She was so little," Billie whispered into the air. "So young."
Mike bit his lip so hard he feared he was drawing blood from the innocent appendage. "Please stop," Mike begged.
"Stop what?" Billie Joe asked, taking his hands from Mike's. He curled them into his own shaking lap.
"Stop blaming yourself."
Billie turned to face him, as if he would if he could actually see Mike. The bassist could practically imagine the defiant gleam that would be in those eyes. "There's no one else to blame," he said as if it were a matter-of-fact ordeal.
"There were two cars, Billie Joe. Two. Not one."
"Yeah, I can add Mike," Billie spat venomously.
"Then add this up in your puny fucking brain. It's. Not. Your. Fault."
Another silence lapsed over the two men and they were left to listen to the repetitive heart monitor's beep filling the room. It would be an understatement to say that Mike was growing incredibly tired of that sound.
Somehow, despite their brief quarrel, Billie's hand had found its way back into Mikes and was threading through his fingers. The touch was feather light and fragile, hesitant almost.
"She had a red ribbon in her hair," Billie Joe said softly. "I don't...I don't remember much else about her. It all happened so fast. One minute I'm...and the next..." he trailed off a moment, seeming to collect his bearings before continuing. "Just that ribbon. So vibrant...like a ruby."
Mike didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply did not respond to it all.
"Mike?" Billie Joe asked, his voice feeble and childlike.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," Billie said slowly. Mike didn't have to ask what for. He already knew.
-
Yeah so, Hi! Haha. I've been MIA for awhile, I know. Same excuses, blah blah blah. That coupled with laziness led me to not updating for so long. My apologies and I hope you enjoyed. I know this one was kind of short, but it just seemed appropriate to end the chapter where I did. And yes, I promise an actual plot will start occurring soon. :D