How We Got Here

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. This never happened. I am making no money. The song "Time of Your Life" is property of Green Day.

How We Got Here (or Time of Your Life)

Chapter Nine: I'm Going to Kill You, Tre

For what it's worth,
It was worth all the while.

Billie's POV

"Did you have to get a shot?" Jakob asks, looking up from the TV.

"Dad, you got a rash on your neck." Joey says.

My hand goes up to the hickey as Tre snickers. "Shut up." He doesn't.

"Allergic reaction, Billie Joe?"

"You're going to hell, Cool." Stupid fucking smirk.

"Not in front of the kids, Dad."

"I fucking hate you."

---

The microwave. You can't start a fire in a microwave, can you? TV dinners. I don't even want to know what drugs the guy who invented these nasty things was doing.

Three minutes on high. I go out back to smoke a cigarette. When I open the microwave, it's a colorful mess. Fucker exploded. "How the hell . . ."

"You're supposed to take the plastic off, Billie." Tre says.

I shake my head to clear it. "Hand me the phone. What kind of pizza you want?"

Speed dial five. Pepperoni, Hawaiin (kill me), and vegetarian. Tre's pantomiming a microwave exploding. "I hope you die painfully . . . no, not you."

Five minutes later I'm carrying the microwave out the front door to throw it into the trash can. "What happened?" Stella asks.

"It's dead." Stupid fucking son-of-a-bitch microwave. It's going to burn in microwave hell.

"You know, we could probably hock that on e-bay. Billie Joe Armstrong's microwave."

I'm going to kill Tre.

The kids are going thorugh the DVDs when I come back in. "Dad, what's 'Reamers'?"

What the fuck? Mike and I keep all our porn in our closet. Wait, that doesn't have a picture, does it? Thank God.

Tre's laughing so hard he's crying as I take the DVD and set it on top of the entertainment center.

Mike finds me rummaging through the hall closet a few minutes later. "What are you looking for?"

"Doesn't Joey have a baseball bat?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why?" He yawns.

"I'm going to kill Tre."

Mike just smiles and kisses the top of my head. "I love you, Billie Joe."

I burst into tears."

Mike's POV

What the fuck? "Billie Joe?" I turn him so he's facing me.

He throws his arms around me and starts bawling into my shoulder. "I killed the microwave."

"O-Okay." I start to stroke his hair, a bit freaked out. "We'll get a new one tomorrow." Do guys get PMS?

"I killed the microwave." he says again. "It's in hell."

"Billie Joe!"

"I'm a murderer!"

Jesus fucking Christ. "Billie, I think you need a sedative."

"Fuck that." He stands up straight and wipes his eyes. "I need a beer."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Billie." But I'm talking to air.

Billie's POV

What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm bawling over a microwave. That's not normal.

Tre comes into the kitchen bearing pizza, the kids close behind him. "No gun?"

"The plates are behind you." Mike tells Tre, coming into the kitchen. "And he was looking for a baseball bat."

"Baseball bat? I'm proud of you, Billie Joe."

Plates. Napkins. Forks. Beer. My sanity . . . oh, wait. Can't find that. I'm not so sure it was there to being with.

"Dad, what'd you do to the microwave?" Can't get anything past a six-year-old. I'm losing my touch.

"It exploded."

"Cool! Can I make it explode next time?"

I grin. Damn, do I love my kids. "Tell you what. After supper I'll dig it out of the trashcan and we'll beat the shit out of it with a baseball bat, okay?" I ruffle his hair as he breaks into a huge grin.

Mike kisses me on his way to the backyard.

"Anger management?" Tre asks.

"I'd go to prison for killing you." I open another beer. "Besides, what better way to bond with my son that to beat the shit out of something?"

"Shit." Jakob says.

Tre's eyes widen. Mike's head appears int he kitchen, his cigarette halfway to his lips. I hide a laugh and pick Jakob up. "You can't say that, punk. Not a good word."

"But you say it. On your songs and now."

"Grown ups say those words somethings. Kids don't."

Tre holds his hand half an inch over my head. "You must be this tall to swear."

"Blow me." I snap. I look at Jakob. "Don't say that either. Your mother would kill me."

He kisses my cheek. "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, sport." I pickup his plate and walk into the living room. "Let's get you some grub."

I st him down at the coffee table and cut his disgusting pineapple infested pizza into pieces. Then I do the same to Stella's.

I wonder if pizza sauce comes out of velvet. I don't know why Mike insists on dressing her up like a doll. She just ruins her clothes. We've already thrown out four dresses and she's been here two days. Before she leaves I'm going to get her a pair of jeans.

Austin Powers. They probably shouldn't be watching this. Oh, fuck it. They won't understand it anyway. Sure enough . . .

"Dad, what's 'horny' mean?" "You really want to kiss someone."

"What's 'randy'?" "It's a boy's name."

"Daddy, why'd she take her dress of?" "Okay, time to switch movies."

"Da-ad."

I hit stop on the remote. "Don't 'dad' me. Go pick a kid's movie."

"I don't wanna watch a kid's movie. They all suck."

"Stop whining or we'll just turn the TV off."

He throws his fork on the floor. "Fine! You're stupid!" He runs up the stairs and I follow him.

"Joseph!" The bathroom door slams and locks.

Jesus. I try to turn the doorknob, but it obviously won't turn. "Joseph Marciano Armstrong! You open this door right now!"

"No. Go away."

"I'm not fucking kidding, Joseph. You're grounded for a month if you don't unlock this door." I try throwing my shoulder against the door but it's heavy as fuck.

"You can't ground me if you can't get it."

Tre and Mike come running up the stairs, Tre with a paper clip. He unbends it and puts it in the keyhole. He's going to pick the lock. I'm going to have a fucking attack if it takes much longer.

Something clicks and Tre slowly pushes the door open. Joey's red in the face. "Room. Now, Joseph." I look at Mike. "I need a screwdriver."

I follow Joey into his room. "You're grounded. No TV, no radio, no computer."

"How long?"

"I don't know! Joey, you can't lock yourself in the bathroom just because I told you 'no'. You could have cracked your skull or something and I wouldn't have been able to get in." I'm shaking. I don't know if it's from anger or worry. "And no backtalking."

"You let me do it to that lady at school."

"She was a fucking idiot!" I take a deep breath. "You're right. I let you backtalk. I probably shouldn't have."

Mike comes in with a screwdriver. "Billie . . . he's six."

"I know." I walk over to Joeys door and start taking the screws out of the knob. I hate doing this. It's his room. It's his space. But he could lock the door and there could be a fire.

"What are you doing?" Joey asks.

"Taking your doorknob out."

"What? You can't do that!"

"Watch me."

He's crying. I can't hear it, but I know he is. Joey's really good at those silent tears.

"I hate you."

I freeze. "What did you say?"

"I fucking hate you."

"Watch your mouth."

"Billie, go." It's Mike. "Billie, go to our room. I'll do this and then I'll be in."

No. Don't make me leave. He might take it back.

"Billie, now."

I go to our room, scream, throw a lamp, and start crying. First Joey didn't want me to kiss him on the mouth anymore. Then he didn't want me to play our songs when I put him to bed. (Addie started that when he was little so he could hear my voice when I was on tour.) Now . . . this.

I can't stop crying. Mike comes in and drops the doorknob. Then he pulls me off the floor and leads me to the bathroom. I don't remember anytime he's ever undressed me without sex being involved. He turns the water on and takes his own clothes off, then helps me into the bathtub. It's the size of a fucking hot tub, I swear.

He washes my hair, then my body. We don't talk and I stopped crying sometime during all this, I just don't know when.

He kisses my cheek. "Billie, Joey didn't mean that. He was just pissed."

"I don't think he loves me anymore."

"He's growing up, Billie Joe."

"He's six."

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

---

I went back downstairs fifteen minutes later. Tre had some movie in and was cutting another slice of pizza for Stella.

"Where'd you learn to pick locks?" I ask, sitting down. Jakob crawls into my lap.

Tre shrugged. "My sister taught me when I was a kid."

I kiss the top of Jakob's head and ruffle his hair. "Thanks."

"No problem."

I guess that's the thing with Tre. You're an inch away from wringing his neck and then he redeems himself.

Lucky son of a bitch.

I hear Joey yell and I'm halfway up the stairs when Mike grabs my arm. "He's punching a pillow. It's okay."

The clock says it's 9:45. "Stella, Jakob. Why don't you guys finish eating and then we'll put you to bed?"

"I'm done." Jakob comes over to me, face and hands covered in pizza sauce. I pick him up, letting him get pizza sauce all over my shirt and face when he kisses me.

"Let's get you cleaned up." I carry him into the kitchen and set him down on the counter. "You made a mess out of yourself, didn't you?"

"You got's it on you, too, Daddy."

I tickle him. "That's because I picked up a little punk covered in pizza sauce." He giggles and I attack his face with a washcloth. I let him get most of it off his hands, then clean off what's between his fingers. Then I let him wash off my face.

"All done." he says.

I pull my shirt off so I can carry him upstairs without recoating him in sauce.

I help him change into Spiderman pajams and set his stereo to play 'Jesus of Suburbia'. "Okay, squirt. Under the covers."

He crawls into bed and I pull the quilt up. "Love you, Daddy. Hug and kiss." I pull him into a hug and feel his hands around my neck. We kiss and then he snuggles into his blankets.

Mike knocks on the doorframe. "I'm putting Stella to bed."

Jakob sits up. "Mike, hug and kiss."

Mikes smiles, gives Jakob a hug, and kisses the top of his head. "'Night, Jakob."

"'Night."

I stand up and ruffle Jakob's hair. "I love you."

"You said that already."

"I know."

Stella's in a nightgown and in her bed when I get to her room. "'Night, Stella." She holds her arms up and I move to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"'Night, Billie."

I slowly make my way to Joey's room. I push the door open and decide tomorrow I'll buy him a doorknob without a lock. "Joey?"

He doesn't move. He's faking. Joey's a light sleeper. When Addie and I were married he would wake up everytime I came in at 2 a.m.

"Joey, I know you're not asleep." I go in and lean against his dresser. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. You scared me. We'll put another knob on your door tomorrow." I walk to his bed and kiss his cheek. "Love you, Joey. Now get some sleep."

I'm shtting the door when he rolls over and looks at me. "Love you, Dad."

---

I don't think the sex has been that good in awhile.

Mike's POV

Fuck.

Billie's POV

Permanent marker on the fucking fridge?

I'm going to KILL Tre!

---

Yeah, had to end on a happy note. Errr . . . chapter ten is in the process of being done. Right now Billie's drinking. Surprise, surprise.

Please review guys. I love getting your reviews. They mean so much. This story is my baby.