(no subject)
Title: Silhouettes
Genre: Horror
Rating: R
Fandom: Linkin Park
Characters: Chester Bennington, Mike Shinoda, Linkin Park
Summary: After the passing of Mike’s wife, he moved in with Chester for a month. A month vague of emotions. Upon moving back to his own house, he discovers that there are some buried secrets, and struggles to come to terms with the terrors that have been unleashed there.
a/n -- I'm not posting this at LPF until I get feedback. Constructive crit is deeply appreciated if you have it. I've worked hard on this, so hopefully it will work out alright. Oh, and someone has already told me not to make it too angsty. Is that what we really want, folks? Or will I just have to stop posting it on Fiction Fortress? Lol.
Chester sighed, heaving Mike’s suitcase - heavily packed with every item needed for living - out of his stuffed Acura. The poor car appeared about to burst from the seems.
This type of packing had been uncharacteristic of Mike, being that Chester - Mr. rock god himself - usually horded every last belonging from his household whenever a tour came about, or just a vacation.
Then again, a lot of Mike’s recent habits were a bit out of the ordinary, none of which Chester failed to notice. Chester wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he learned of Anna’s passing. Surprisingly enough, however, he expected it to be a lot tougher on Mike’s relationship with the guys.
It wasn’t. Mike never brought it up. In fact, Mike rarely talked at all, but when he did, it was generally positive. Chester had scolded himself for expecting nothing but the worst with the whole situation, and as usual, failing to keep an optimistic outlook on Mike’s emotional state.
The emcee had spent a month with Chester, living in his home. As guilt tripping as it was for Mike to admit it, he enjoyed Chester’s company generously more in the absence of Samantha. She had always seemed to have him tied by the hands, shaming him for every crude word that slipped from his lips. But that’s what Mike loved about Chester, was his uninhibited vulgarity through not only speech, but actions as well.
Finally, when Mike had readied himself to go back home, and live by himself, Chester had simply invited himself over to stay, also. Mike had pretended to be a little disconcerted and rather contemptuous about the whole idea, but in reality, he was grateful.
He knew he wasn’t really ready, but the thought of imposing on Chester forever didn’t appeal to him so much. He hadn’t planned on over staying his welcome, but he feared that a month had been more than enough time.
In actuality, Chester didn’t care one way or another how long Mike hung around, or at whose house they stayed. As long as their time together was either productive, or on the other hand, enjoyable. But even when it wasn’t enjoyable, there was something about the emcee that made Chester want to be around him constantly.
Mike pulled the rest of his belongings from the car and began trucking them into his empty house. Chester followed. He was nervous, perhaps even more so that Mike, about entering the house. Thus far, Mike had kept all emotions under wraps, and Chester was not confident in his ability to provide needed comfort if the figurative dam behind Mike’s eyes happened to crumble.
Mike’s house was in somewhat of a secluded area; no neighbors within a mile radius. The property was waterfront, with an absolutely breathtaking view of the lake before it. Trees barricaded the area, hiding the land from pesky tourists or anyone else, for that matter. The place was invisible from the road. Various decorations around the house screamed Anna Shinoda, since Mike had no taste for interior or exterior decorating, and Chester realized faintly that the appearance of the briefly abandoned home would probably go downhill with the loss of it’s chief maintainer.
Chester followed Mike into the house and jumped, startled, when Mike finally spoke. “It’s really cold in here,” he mused, “not like usual.” The statement tore at Chester’s heart, and he let out an unmistakable breath of sympathy. Mike turned on the heater.
“Hungry?” the emcee asked Chester, making his way towards the kitchen. The fact was, Chester wasn’t hungry at all. It sickened him to think so deeply on Mike’s loss, and he wondered how Mike managed to keep his eyes dry for a month straight, while Chester had trouble doing so, weeks after Anna’s passing.
“Yeah, I guess,” Chester heard himself say. “What you got to eat?”
“Food,” Mike said, a small grin appearing on his lips. “Actually, not a lot. Pizza sound good?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Chester nodded, wandering into Mike’s living room. He shuddered as he took a seat on a green sofa, knowing that Anna had probably sat there a fair share of times. It bothered him that someone so full of life, and so important to other people’s lives could just pass away like that. Then again, everyone was important to someone.
Anna’s story was a sad one. It pained Chester to recall it, especially since his mind painted a beautiful scenario of what it must have looked like.
She had gone to the store, probably to pick up milk and other various provisions that were scant among the Shinoda household. Just like normal, she checked out and carried her bags to the car.
She started the car, unaware that a potentially harmful insect had followed her inside. Before even putting the car in reverse, she was stung by a bee. Ignorant to her bee sting allergy, as having never been stung before, she was caught by surprise when she could no longer get oxygen to her lungs.
She died from suffocation, due to the tiny sting of a bee. And no one knew it, until a cashier - who had just completed his shift, was getting into his car that was conveniently parked next hers. He noticed her slumped posture, and closed eyes; thus, he knocked on the window to hopefully wake her from sleep. When receiving no response from her, he went back into the store and called an ambulance.
She was pronounced dead at the scene.
It wasn’t until several days later that Chester found out by reading the death notice in the paper. He wondered if Mike would have even said anything about it, if Chester hadn’t taken the initiative and called him.
It worried Chester. It worried him that it was so easy for Mike to bottle up anticipated emotions from such a horrifying occasion. Therapy had crossed the singer’s mind more than once, but he didn’t dare say a word about it to Mike. As usual, he was too frightened of Mike’s reaction.
Even Mike’s homecoming reaction was not anything remotely similar to what Chester had predicted. Was the man so emotionless that he couldn’t even shed a tear? Hell, Chester had called him up the night Samantha left him, and bawled into the phone for fifteen minutes straight.
Chester carried on pondering the subject, while Mike proceeded to order a pizza.
They ate in complete silence, though it was not awkward at all. Chester was too used to Mike’s silent spells. It was no longer bothersome to the singer.
Mike finally spoke as he did the dishes for the evening. “So, what are your plans for this evening, Chaz?”
Chester shrugged in reply. He wasn’t expecting to have a raging social life while living with Mike. In fact, he anticipated quite the opposite. He had intended on staying around, comforting the mourning.
“I guess I didn’t really have anything in mind,” he answered, drying a couple plates and sticking them in their given cupboards.
“I was thinking we could watch a movie, ya know, if you’re not too tired,” Mike said, nonchalance seeping through his words.
Chester nodded in affirmation, suddenly enlightened by the reasoning behind Mike’s strangely normal behavior. It made Chester’s heart shatter as Mike tried so very hard to forget everything: his lover, his best friend, his commitment to her. He wondered when the shock would begin to wear off, and Mike would be able to come to terms with the situation in its entirety.
Though Mike’s emotions remained stagnant, the same throughout, his appearance was suffering. But that was the only way an outsider could tell of his troubles, of his loss. His hair was growing longer, sticking out in random tufts, and his five o’clock shadow was returning with a vengeance. His eyes were tired, distressed. Yet, he did nothing to improve this, nor unveiled any key emotions that one would expect from him.
The pair settled themselves in the living room; Mike dug restlessly through his cupboard of DVDs, asking Chester if he had a preference.
Chester said no, as long as it something with Leonardo DiCaprio. Mike had chuckled in agreement, saying he didn’t think that ‘they’ didn’t own any of his movies. Chester’s heart dropped to the bottom of his abdomen. He wondered if Mike realized that he was still referring to his possessions as ‘theirs’.
Overcome by sadness once more, Chester excused himself to take a piss. Having been away from Mike’s place for an extended period of time, finding the bathroom required some navigational skills, which Chester didn’t have.
“God, it’s fucking freezing back here,” he complained to the empty hallway, hugging himself for warmth. The bathroom was even chillier than the corridor, even as heat streamed through the vent. ‘That’s what happens when you leave your house for a month I guess,’ Chester mused, relieving himself then quickly washing his hands.
However, a cardboard box with huge blue letters caught his attention from the garbage can. It read with austerity, “Clear Blue Pregnancy Test”. He blinked a couple times, knowing that the situation was none of his business at all, but in the end, curiosity got the better of the singer, and he picked up the box.
Inside was a used pregnancy test, and Chester felt his eyes moisten. A thin blue line could be seen across the digital reader.
Anna had been pregnant.
~*~
Mike fidgeted uncomfortably in his lonesome as he waited for Chester to come back from the bathroom. He had selected an assortment of movies, deciding that Chester should pick the movie, since after all, he was the guest.
Truth be told, the longer Mike sat alone by himself, the more his thoughts wandered aimlessly towards Anna. He wondered, himself, why he hadn’t cried over it. No matter how hard he tried, he could not force out any tears. But they were there; sitting right behind his eyes. He could feel them, and by now, there was an aching desperation to let them loose. Mike found it almost irritating that crying had become a difficult chore for him.
The emcee had come damn near close to slapping himself after exploring himself deep within and wondering if his subconscious had decided that his wife had not been worth his tears. That couldn’t have been it.
She had wanted to bear his children. And he had wanted nothing more than for her to carry those children. But his sperm count was low. He had known it for a while, and all they could do was try. Trying had never been enough, it seemed. And now their only chance had died with her.
Chester returned and flopped down on the couch next to Mike. “What’s it going to be?” Chester said, glancing at the pile of flicks resting on the coffee table.
“You’re choosing,” Mike said simply.
“I don’t want to choose,” Chester argued immediately. His mind was in a bad spot. Frankly, he was unsure if Mike knew about the pregnancy test. And what if he didn’t? Should Chester tell him? The singer was in no mood to think at all any more, as a migraine was beginning to infiltrate his already troubled head. “Choose, Mike.”
Mike rolled his eyes and picked out the classic favorite, ‘Fight Club’ and put it in the player.
Chester watched for approximately fifteen minutes before his resistance fell and he drifted off to probably the most restless sleep he had ever experienced. Vicious nightmares of rotting corpses stormed away his serenity. Pallid maggots gnawed at the hollowed out guts of deceased acquaintances and close friends lost in tragedy, yet the singer remained in a deep slumber; his mind needed rest more than his physical being.
Mike continued to stare at the progression of the movie, void of emotion. Pictures danced before his eyes, but lacked substantial effect, eliciting no reaction from the broken man. He prodded Chester once, absently, but left him to his sleep after Mike realized the singer was dozing.
Mike wished he could sleep so easily. Every time his eyelids would flutter, Anna flashed before him - talking, laughing, unaware of her own demise. He couldn’t stand it, but there was no stopping the images. And he knew they would be there for a long time to come, unsure if they would even dissipate at all. Everything around him reminded him of her, and he feared that all his mental connections to inanimate objects were what brought on the disheartening images.
Mike’s mind was contradicting his heart. He longed to forget about her - to never have to see her giggling face in front of his eyelids again, but that’s not really what he wanted. She was a part of him, and if she were to be forgotten, a part of him would be lost as well.
His heart hurt so badly - literally, there was an existing pain that was most likely caused by excessive stress and grief (all of which he held inside). And Mike took aspirin for it that night as he stayed up until the sun rose the next morning.