#18 Abused
Author: bj_unoxx
Pairing: Billie Joe/Jason
Rating: PG13 for swearing
Disclaimer: They own themselves, this is just fiction.
AN: From the prompt table.
The first feeling to wash over Billie as he cracked open his eyes was pain, his head throbbed with a ferocity that told the tale of a heavy night’s drinking and partying. A pathetic sounding noise escaped his lips and he feebly pulled at the covers, trying to bury his head under them, hiding away from the tiniest slant of light falling through the closed drapes. Everything ached, body, mind, everything. His slow morning brain struggled to comprehend his surroundings and process how he had arrived there.
He was in a hotel room, the bed was large, not too firm and warm. Tentatively he stretched out a little, humming when his fingertips brushed another warm body. Strangely, he wasn’t alarmed by the fact he had company. Daring to peek out from under the cover again, he recognised the soft brunette curls caught between the quilt and the pillow. “Jase?” His voice was rough with sleep and strained as it always was after a show, he remembered they played the previous night, but other details were sketchy.
Swallowing against the cotton wool feeling in his mouth, he gingerly turned his head on the pillow and saw the bottle of water on the night stand, put there by his guitarist no doubt. Jason always thought of little things like that, even when Billie was convinced the younger man was just as wasted as him. Reaching out, he managed
to close his hand around the bottle on the second attempt and opened it carefully, drinking greedily for a moment and sighing at the relief the cool water brought.
Placing it back on the stand, he settled down against the pillows, not wanting to move just yet. His head still ached and he knew from previous experience that the hangover wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Wriggling closer to Jason, he nosed the back of his neck, wanting his bedfellow to wake, but also reluctant to disturb him.
“How are you feeling?”
Jase’s voice was tired, more so than he usually sounded in the morning, and Billie immediately felt on edge for some reason. “I’m… hungover. Why? How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Jason didn’t turn around and Billie felt his unease grow. “I’m more worried about you. What can you remember from last night?”
The singer leaned up on his elbow, pulling the cover down so he could see the side of Jason’s face and frowning as his companion burrowed closer to the pillow, still not looking at him. “I don’t remember anything, just that we went on… Jase, what is it? Why won’t you look at me?”
“A lot happened Bill. I’m not sure where to start.” Jason bit his lip, a frown coming to his face. “You had a meltdown on stage, smashed your guitar and stormed off. They cut our set short and you lost it completely. Mike smashed his bass too, I guess he was trying to cover for you; but you totally lost control.” The guitarist sighed, hiding his face further against the pillow.
“I rescued the wreckage, brought it back here… While I was doing that, you managed to row with Mike and scare the shit out of Tré. Neither of them are speaking to you right now, just so you know. Management are fucking furious.” He stopped, not knowing how to answer Billie’s last question, “we argued too. I saw the drugs, Billie Joe and I’m scared for you… you need help.”
At the lip bite, Billie held his breath; he knew all Jason’s mannerisms and that particular one showed how nervous he was. the singer hated that he couldn’t remember, wondering what he had done to cause the anxiety in his friend, his lover. He felt panic crawl up his spine as Jase started to speak and a flash of anger shot through him as the younger man mentioned his meds. “You went through my stuff?!” The words came out sharp and loud, and he pushed himself up to a seated position, ignoring the way the room lurched.
“No, I didn’t go through your stuff, I saw you taking the fucking things.” Jason’s voice was quiet, more upset than angry. “Please, Billie, you’re killing yourself. You need help.”
Billie was torn between anger and remorse, on one hand Jason had no right to tell him what he needed, and yet on the other it was plain to see how scared his guitarist was. Bill hated to see his Jason so upset. “Hey, I’m fine. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay and you’re not fine.” Jason stumbled out of bed and finally turned to face him, staring down at him out of reddened eyes. “Take a good look, it’s your handiwork. Were you fine when you did this?”
Green eyes widened as soon as he saw the marks on Jason’s pale skin. A bluish-purple bruise was spreading from the corner of his mouth along his jaw and his bottom lip was split. “Oh shit… Jase, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”
Jason avoided his gaze, instead staring at the floor. “Billie Joe, you had no idea you did this. At all. Don’t you think that’s enough to show that you’re not fine?” He sighed, running a hand through his mass of curls, shoulders slumping as he gave up the fight. “I stayed with you. Even after you hit me. When you blacked out I put you to bed and I stayed with you, to make sure you kept breathing.”
“Jase.” Climbing from the bed, Billie moved towards his lover, the anger he’d felt moments before had evaporated, instead he felt sickened to his core. He’d hurt Jason, something he’d sworn to the younger man he’d never do. “Jay.” He reached for his guitarist, half expecting him to flinch away, but he didn’t, neither did he return the hug he was given.
“I stayed with you, Bee, and you know I would never leave. Please. Stay with me too.”
The words were soft, barely above a whisper and Billie’s stomach knotted with the emotion behind them, but he realised finally what he needed to do, before Jason's fears became reality. Carefully, he pressed a kiss to Jason’s abused mouth. “I'll stay. I promise.”
Rehab would be hell, but he'd get through it; for the band, for his family and for Jason.
Pairing: Billie Joe/Jason
Rating: PG13 for swearing
Disclaimer: They own themselves, this is just fiction.
AN: From the prompt table.
The first feeling to wash over Billie as he cracked open his eyes was pain, his head throbbed with a ferocity that told the tale of a heavy night’s drinking and partying. A pathetic sounding noise escaped his lips and he feebly pulled at the covers, trying to bury his head under them, hiding away from the tiniest slant of light falling through the closed drapes. Everything ached, body, mind, everything. His slow morning brain struggled to comprehend his surroundings and process how he had arrived there.
He was in a hotel room, the bed was large, not too firm and warm. Tentatively he stretched out a little, humming when his fingertips brushed another warm body. Strangely, he wasn’t alarmed by the fact he had company. Daring to peek out from under the cover again, he recognised the soft brunette curls caught between the quilt and the pillow. “Jase?” His voice was rough with sleep and strained as it always was after a show, he remembered they played the previous night, but other details were sketchy.
Swallowing against the cotton wool feeling in his mouth, he gingerly turned his head on the pillow and saw the bottle of water on the night stand, put there by his guitarist no doubt. Jason always thought of little things like that, even when Billie was convinced the younger man was just as wasted as him. Reaching out, he managed
to close his hand around the bottle on the second attempt and opened it carefully, drinking greedily for a moment and sighing at the relief the cool water brought.
Placing it back on the stand, he settled down against the pillows, not wanting to move just yet. His head still ached and he knew from previous experience that the hangover wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Wriggling closer to Jason, he nosed the back of his neck, wanting his bedfellow to wake, but also reluctant to disturb him.
“How are you feeling?”
Jase’s voice was tired, more so than he usually sounded in the morning, and Billie immediately felt on edge for some reason. “I’m… hungover. Why? How are you?”
“I’m fine,” Jason didn’t turn around and Billie felt his unease grow. “I’m more worried about you. What can you remember from last night?”
The singer leaned up on his elbow, pulling the cover down so he could see the side of Jason’s face and frowning as his companion burrowed closer to the pillow, still not looking at him. “I don’t remember anything, just that we went on… Jase, what is it? Why won’t you look at me?”
“A lot happened Bill. I’m not sure where to start.” Jason bit his lip, a frown coming to his face. “You had a meltdown on stage, smashed your guitar and stormed off. They cut our set short and you lost it completely. Mike smashed his bass too, I guess he was trying to cover for you; but you totally lost control.” The guitarist sighed, hiding his face further against the pillow.
“I rescued the wreckage, brought it back here… While I was doing that, you managed to row with Mike and scare the shit out of Tré. Neither of them are speaking to you right now, just so you know. Management are fucking furious.” He stopped, not knowing how to answer Billie’s last question, “we argued too. I saw the drugs, Billie Joe and I’m scared for you… you need help.”
At the lip bite, Billie held his breath; he knew all Jason’s mannerisms and that particular one showed how nervous he was. the singer hated that he couldn’t remember, wondering what he had done to cause the anxiety in his friend, his lover. He felt panic crawl up his spine as Jase started to speak and a flash of anger shot through him as the younger man mentioned his meds. “You went through my stuff?!” The words came out sharp and loud, and he pushed himself up to a seated position, ignoring the way the room lurched.
“No, I didn’t go through your stuff, I saw you taking the fucking things.” Jason’s voice was quiet, more upset than angry. “Please, Billie, you’re killing yourself. You need help.”
Billie was torn between anger and remorse, on one hand Jason had no right to tell him what he needed, and yet on the other it was plain to see how scared his guitarist was. Bill hated to see his Jason so upset. “Hey, I’m fine. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay and you’re not fine.” Jason stumbled out of bed and finally turned to face him, staring down at him out of reddened eyes. “Take a good look, it’s your handiwork. Were you fine when you did this?”
Green eyes widened as soon as he saw the marks on Jason’s pale skin. A bluish-purple bruise was spreading from the corner of his mouth along his jaw and his bottom lip was split. “Oh shit… Jase, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”
Jason avoided his gaze, instead staring at the floor. “Billie Joe, you had no idea you did this. At all. Don’t you think that’s enough to show that you’re not fine?” He sighed, running a hand through his mass of curls, shoulders slumping as he gave up the fight. “I stayed with you. Even after you hit me. When you blacked out I put you to bed and I stayed with you, to make sure you kept breathing.”
“Jase.” Climbing from the bed, Billie moved towards his lover, the anger he’d felt moments before had evaporated, instead he felt sickened to his core. He’d hurt Jason, something he’d sworn to the younger man he’d never do. “Jay.” He reached for his guitarist, half expecting him to flinch away, but he didn’t, neither did he return the hug he was given.
“I stayed with you, Bee, and you know I would never leave. Please. Stay with me too.”
The words were soft, barely above a whisper and Billie’s stomach knotted with the emotion behind them, but he realised finally what he needed to do, before Jason's fears became reality. Carefully, he pressed a kiss to Jason’s abused mouth. “I'll stay. I promise.”
Rehab would be hell, but he'd get through it; for the band, for his family and for Jason.