[FIC] Patchwork Heroes
Title: Patchwork Heroes -Chapter 1
Author: RiaStarStruck (me!)
Rating: R
Pairing: VAM
Summary: They were two regular teenagers for the most part, but when they meet each other they have to start dealing with the demons that lurk in their shadows, and each others while discovering love along the way.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything connected to HIM, Ville Valo, or Bam Margera except some DVDs and CDs. I don’t mean to offend anyone by this, it’s written purely for my own entertainment.
Warnings: abuse, Ref to child abuse, violence, angst.
Authors Notes: okay, that is the worlds worst summery pretty much EVER. This is a complete AU, they are both teenagers and are dealing with their own kinds of abuse and the things that have been haunting them for a while. This was originally going to be about Ville’s abuse from his father, but Bam kind of... took over...as he does.
This story has been long coming, it kind of has invaded my entire life.... lol it’s consumed my world disturbingly for a while. I do have most of it written so it should be updated frequently and won’t be left for dead.
Prologue
Chapter One
The small club was dark and smoky, the crowd pressed close against Bam as he made his way towards the front of the packed room to where his brother’s band waited to go on stage. Elbowing his way through the crowd he ignored everything going on around him, focusing instead on the top of Chad’s head which he could see through the gaps in the crowd. He got his break when the band which was playing finished up and the crowd lost interest as they moved off and the next moved onto the stage. Seizing the moment he made a quick rush to the front and stumbled out in front of his brother who was leaning casually against an unused speaker and fiddling with his sticks.
Being underage had caused Bam all kinds of problems in getting in, but eventually they relented and he was there, as he always was, to see his brothers’ band play. Deron always joked about Bam being the world’s best groupie and that it was a shame he hadn’t been born a hot chick. At sixteen he’d heard it enough to not react, though when he was younger it had been different, hot headed and unable to control himself he’d had difficulties in a lot of social situations, lashing out and going into a rage he wouldn’t remember later at the slightest provocation. Deron meant well, Bam knew that, he also knew not everybody did.
There as a hush as a new band walked on stage, the drummer, bassist and strangely enough, a pianist were first out, followed quickly by two tall thin figures, one blond, the other a brunette. Bam barely glanced up, too involved with trying to steal Jess’ beer, but his attention was caught when Dico arrived.
“Do they seriously have a piano up there? With this crowd?” Deron smiled, and shrugged.
“Wait till you’ve heard them before saying shit.” The crowd of black dressed people seemed to look on with the same incredulity, this place was known for its heavy music, heavy on the leather and the tattoos and the screaming, this band seemed wrong for so many reasons, despite the bassists dirty long hair and tattooed arms, and the tattoo the peeked out from under the singers shirt sleeve, the singer, guitarist and pianist seemed too delicate to fit in.
The lights faded to red and white, and the men took their places. A piano tune started, washing through the shadowed recesses of the club, strangely eerie compared to the previous band’s raw sound which had blared at full volume out into the crowd like a full frontal attack. A complicated rift followed, the blonde man didn’t look at the crowd and Bam noticed on closer inspection that his eyes were closed and he was swaying with the music, he lacked the usual cockiness that the lead guitarists often possessed in places like this. A second later and the room exploded with sound, multi layered and complex wrapping itself around the waiting crowd, a mix of classic elegance and the brutal, angry aggression of youth.
The music was so different to its predecessors, Bam felt a strange tension building inside him, his chest clenched and his mind went blank, an empty canvas for the music to paint what it wanted on his subconscious. His eyes fixed on the lone man who stood before the mic as he moved forward into a tunnel of light, his face was shadowed, and his hair was a cloud of warm browns under the red light, his hands were thin and skeletal looking as the lights cast shadows across them and glittered on his numerous rings, the cigarette stood proudly between his fingers as he held the mic with both hands, it’s smoke catching in the lights and hovering above his head like a halo. Bam felt the building tension burst through him as a gasp when the singer began. The honeyed voice was deep and rich, like velvet through the speakers, the singer swayed and moved like a snake before the mic stand as though in a trance.
Bam stood motionless, watching in awe as the music weaved its magic around the crowd, which screamed and cheered unable to sing along to the dark, sordid songs. His eyes kept trailing back to the singer, who screamed and shouted, who sang in high girlish voices seconds before clasping his hands around the mic and pressing it close to his mouth to whisper filth and promise in a raw, deep voice that made Bam shiver. Too soon they made their way off stage and CKY pushed past him to the stage to set up for their own show. Bam's eyes tailed the tall singer as he moved away from the stage out through the door with ‘staff only’ scrawled in white against the peeling black paint.
After the show, when most of the crowd had left and CKY was celebrating their successful show with cheap drinks on the edge of the stage Bam brought up the band from earlier. Deron shrugged and took a swig from his drink, “Dunno much ‘bout them just that they’re good, heard them play a couple of times.” Jess slung his arm around Deron’s shoulder and leaned in.
“Two of them are from Europe somewhere, Norway or something. They’re alright blokes, the singer, Ville, he writes all their stuff. Talented bastard isn’t he?” conversation slipped from there, Ville Bam thought to himself, testing how it sounded in his mind.
A half hour later they found themselves with an abandoned trolley in the car park. Bam felt himself grinning and a sharp thrill travel up his chest as the shopping cart sped across the asphalt, his vision was clear and everything was edged with white, he could smell the sharp tang on petrol on the ground and his own sweat and the smell of beer which clung to him and his friends, his breath accelerated and he felt sick in his throat as the curb rushed towards him too quickly, he felt the sharp jolt of the cart rock through him and then he was flying, he felt electricity run through his arms and legs and his fingers tingled painfully. A moment later he hit the ground with a roll, he heard the whoops and cheers of his friends and he took a moment to catch his breath, the ground was cold and solid under him and the world spun for a moment. He licked his dry lips as he steadied his breathing and felt the last tingles of that painful electricity leave his fingers leaving him with the strange half numbess that filled him whenever he wasn’t on the very edge of danger.
As he sat up he heard laughter he didn’t recognise, and he saw a group of five men heading towards them. “What are you doing? Margera, I though you said you weren’t crazy!”Bam vaguely recognised the speaker as the bassist from the band earlier, HIM his mind supplied.
“I wasn’t the one in the cart! That’s my baby brother!” Bam cringed at being called the baby, he hated it and Jess knew it. For some reason it grinded more now than usual and he cast a quick glance at the amused figure of Ville who was watching silently next to the tall blond.
“Crazy by association.” The singer quipped, he grinned cheekily as Jess threw an empty bottle in their direction. His voice was heavily accented, deep and rough sounding, and Bam found himself wanting to hear him talk more. The blonde beside him chuckled soundlessly and bumped shoulders with him, earning him a smile from the dark man. Bam felt a surge of something run through him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Bam could out crazy anyone!” Dico laughed and Bam found himself under the scrutiny of brilliant green eyes, Ville watched him silently as the others around them laughed and argued. It was like time had frozen as kohl rimed green eyes stared into startled blue.
Bam jerked out of the trance when he felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and heard his brothers teasing voice, “Come on Brandon, it’s bed time for school kiddies.” Bam blushed, shrugging off his brother and punching him roughly in the arm muttering a ‘shut the fuck up’ which made the others laugh before they started walking away towards the car.
As he slumped into the front passenger seat he glanced over at the group not too far away, Ville stood slightly apart from the rest, his eyes fixed on him. A shiver ran through his body as Jess pulling out with an obnoxious blare of the horn which echoed around the nearly empty lot. Bam slumped further into his seat as Jess put the radio on and stared out at the passing scenery, a blur of shadowed and dirty looking buildings under the seedy orange street lights merged together as the sped past.
~*~
That night Bam dreamt about drowning, he saw himself falling into a pool of bottomless black water, so cold it burnt his skin as he made contact. He felt the cold ice water fill his hot lungs and saw the bubbles race towards the blue surface as he raced downwards.
He struggled against the cold, kicked and waved his arms in an attempt to reach the slowly fading surface, the water gripped closer, and it felt like hands clawing at his exposed skin, he looked down and in the darkness hands appeared, glowing pale hands with hair on the knuckles and prominent veins reached for him from the depths, pulling, clawing, groping, dragging him further into the biting cold below.
He woke with a jerk, sweat cold on his skin and his face wet with tears, his breath was forced out of him in harsh breaths and he clawed at the blankets that wrapped around his shivering figure. He saw his brothers face illuminated by the small lamp on his bedside and he stilled, Jess’ eyes were glittering with moisture and his jaw was clenched, though Bam pretended he didn’t notice, even as his own lips quivered and his tears slowly tapered off. Wordlessly Jess lay down next to him on the small single bed. A short time later Bam felt his brother relax and drift into sleep, Bam stayed awake for a while longer, eyes straying to the shadows of the room looking for monsters he never saw.
The first time Bam almost died he was eight years old. They found him walking an hour past midnight in an abandoned stretch of road just outside town, there was a snow storm and he was naked except for his underwear and socks. He didn’t remember anything from the last two days and his body was frozen, at first they’d thought the blue, red and purple of his skin was from the cold.
He had phenomena and stayed at the hospital for two weeks before they released him to the care of his mother.
He’d watched in the cold sterility of the hospital room as the doctors had pulled his mum and dad aside to talk to them in hushed voices, Jess sat beside his bed and clutched his hand tightly also watching. Ape couldn’t look at him for a week without crying, Phil was quieter than normal and ruffling his hair spontaneously, as though to reassure himself he was really there.
Bam's daredevil antics frightened Ape, he saw the fear in her eyes every time a new story of his fearless trick or prank reached her, but she said nothing, and instead she bared it with a delicate grimace on her face. More than once after a stupid stunt Bam would hear her crying on Phil’s shoulder, blaming herself for every stupid thing he did.
When he was younger he would barge in, shake her and tell her she did nothing wrong screaming as she shook her head until his voice cracked and Jess or Phil had to pin him down to stop him from hurting himself as he lashed out in a desperate attempt to make her not so sad. Once or twice he’d tried to explain why he did these things, but she would look at him, eyes bloodshot and face tearstained and he knew she never heard a word. Now he would close himself in his room, play his music loudly and pretend he didn’t want to scream as he pulled on his hair to stop himself from making a noise and sank to his knees, where he would stay until the CD finished or Jess came and found him.
Sometimes Bam did things, or said something that the others didn’t understand. Dunn was the only one that had been around back then and that knew about those two days he didn’t remember. He, like Jess would watch with a strange mix of fear and anger when it happened, would follow the movements of his hands or watch as he worked himself to exhaustion with a blank stare, watching only to help if he needed it, they knew better then to disrupt his routines.
The others didn’t understand; they used to make a joke about it and try to laugh it off but sometimes they would watch with anxious eyes as Bam organised and reorganised the cutlery or his school books or the food on his plate, not eating a bite until everything was right where it should be. Sometimes he thought he saw fear when he would practice a trick on his board again and again, getting up, bloodier each time he landed to do it again with a single mindedness which bordered on mania.
His teachers treated him like a trouble maker, he was branded a nuisance and no matter how many times Ape begged for them to understand, pleaded with them to see his son was no hoodlum, but they were determined, they saw his behaviour as purposely disobedient, arrogance. So Bam didn’t try, and with steadfastness pulled pranks, played the clown and found himself screaming in the middle of class, calling his teachers names and cursing loudly as he was dragged again to the principal’s office.
He didn’t really understand himself why he did the things he did, a determination pushed him to perfect his tricks, and he couldn’t settle until his food or his books or whatever it was, was just right. The tricks and pranks however, he did those to feel alive, to feel the rush of adrenaline cut through the numbness, to see the brilliant white flash through his vision as his lungs burned and his heart beat double time. The only time he felt alive any more was when the razors edge of danger danced before him.
chapter 2