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Love Killed You

Title: Love Killed You
Author: stripesco04_nur
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tré/Mike
POV: 1st - Billie's, then changes into 3rd
Summary: Love killed us... Made me kill you...
Disclaimer: This is all untrue!
A/N: This is what you get when I'm feeling like shit! And the stuffy nose is not helping! X(



Something's wrong...

I can sense it as soon as my eyes crack open to the ray of sun filtering between the bay color blinds. I fumble to a sitting position, and gaze at the clock. 10:37 a.m. Wow... a new Billie Joe record of getting up in the morning.
I chuckle lightly to myself as I finally make my way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Adie is quietly sitting at the table, her hands clenched together - almost shaking for no apparent reason.
"Good morning," I say roughly, heading towards the refrigerator and pulling the carton of orange juice out. I shake it before unscrewing the cap and cussing bitterly under my breath as I realize that it would help to have a cup.
Successfully getting the liquid into a cup, I pad over to where Adie sits and plop down onto one of the chairs.
She still doesn't say anything... Only clenching her hands together and then unclenching them.
"O.K. what'd I do now?" I ask, feeling that I've obviously done something to upset her... again.

"Billie..." She whispers, finally looking up at me and I see tears glistening in her eyes. She reaches across the table and grasps my hand. I wince at the tightness of her little hand and say softly, "Adie? What's going on?"
She gives my hand a squeeze before saying softly, "They're dead, Billie."
"Who?" I frown.
"Mike and Tré."
Silence is all that can be heard in the kitchen, 'cept for the occasional noise of whatever Joey and Jakob are watching in the den.
"Billie," Adie rubs circles over the top of my palm, but I shrug them off.
"You're lying," I accuse and I see her sigh.
"I'm not lying. Brittney called me about three hours ago... She found them," Adie's voice wavers, but I hear nothing as the realization dawns on me.

"They can't be dead," I whisper out loud, my tears threatening to fall as Adie gently moves from her chair so she is standing in front of me. She pulls me into her... into her warm, plush pillows...
My tears trickle downwards, yet I can't make any sound.
"They want you to identify the bodies, Billie..." She says softly, stroking my hair and placing sweet kisses into it.
"W-what?" I stammer, looking up at her.
"Well, Brittney called twice. The first was to say that she found Mike and Tré dead. The second was to announce that the bodies need identifying, and she wanted you to identify them," Adie says. My heart hammers away in my chest.
Choking back on my sobs, I pull myself together and say, "Fine then. Let me go get change..."

A few minutes, maybe twenty, later Adie and I are being attack by Brittney. She is a crying wreck and keeps saying to me, "It's horrible! Why would they do this? Th-this suicide?!"
My eyes double as I drink in this analogy: Suicide?
"S-suicide?" I whisper.
Brittney looks at me and nods, before burying her face in Adie's shoulder. Adie makes shushing noises, and one of the nurses comes towards us with clipboard.
"Who's Armstrong?" She asks.
I attentively move towards her and she looks at me with sadden eyes. "Please follow me," She says, leading me into a white room where I almost gag at the sight of "just-dead" victims.

Soon we arrive to place where two body bags are sitting on a table. The nurse unzips the first bag... Fuck! I don't even remember what happen except soon I'm retching in the hallway and Adie is wrapping her arms around me.
"Mike... Tré..." I whisper as the nurse brings me a cup of water. I thank her and sip at the stale water.
"So they are Mike and Tré?" She's unsure of Tré's name.
"Frank," I give her before nodding my head. "Do you know what happened?"
The nurse shakes her head before saying, "All we know is that it was gunshots to the chest. The gun was found at the scene of the crime, resulting in being label as a suicide pact."
She leaves and my mouth feels dry despite the liquid running down my throat...

I don't know why, but I have to stop. Stop at Mike's house... where supposedly they were found.
I jump out of the car and run towards the porch, stopping only as the big yellow Police Crossing No Trespassing signs are bound around the small porch.
"Billie?" Adie whispers from behind me.
"Sorry, but I have to see," I whisper back and she nods as I duck underneath the tape and find the spare key underneath the dead flower-pot.
I unlock the door and slowly push the door open... The smell of beer, cigarette smoke, and that distance spice smell of Mike hits me and I almost choke, but a tender hand on my arm keeps me still.
Adie gives me a soft smile as we pad into the once familiar house. Nothing's been touch except for white tape circled around a broken wine glass, and I see a bright yellow tape surrounding the wall of Mike's living room.
My insides squeeze together tightly as I see the splatter of blood dried on the wall, and soaking the carpet as well.
"Oh Billie!" Adie exclaims, pulling me towards her and we both seek comfort in each other’s arms...

Making it home in one piece as my hands are shaking even worse is good news to Adie. As she doesn't want any more deaths today...
My eyes tear up again as we walk into the house.
"I need to be alone, Adie," I whisper. She nods and goes to find Joey and Jakob.
I climb the stairs heavily and make into my bedroom. I close the door and shut the blinds that Adie left open.

Why? Why did this happen? I keep asking myself as tears starting pouring out for real.
I remember what Mike said to me just yesterday!
"I'm going to do it Billie Joe."
"Do what?"
"I'm going to tell Tré how much I love him."

Mike had been so happy, thinking that he was finally going to tell Tré how he felt. Which I was very glad for... since it gave a chance to get Mike off my back about him moping about Tré.
So why did they commit suicide? Or so what the doctors have announced...
My tears don't stop and I rub a hand underneath my running nose. I feel the drowsiness pull at my eyes as I start slowing down on my choke sobs, even though my tears are still falling... silently...


The bell rings and Mike happily answers it. Tré stands in the doorway and Mike instantly ushers him in; wrapping him a big hug, crushing the drummer slightly.
"Oof! Mike, what's the occasion?" Tré giggles, trying to hug the bassist back.
"Tonight's the occasion!" Mike laughs, leading his friend into his kitchen where two glasses of chardonnay sit waiting for them.
Mike passes one to Tré, who has shrugged his jacket off and draped it over one of the bassist's chairs.
"Thanks, but really what's going on?" Tré whispers, softly sipping at the alcohol.
Mike takes a gulp, letting the chardonnay burn at his throat. Instead of answering the drummer, he places his wine glass on the counter and launches forward; his lips bruising and taking Tré by surprise.

Tré drops his own glass and it shatters on impact, but neither notice as Mike begins to lick around the drummer's lips; seeking approval to insert it in Tré's mouth.
Tré whimpers and Mike pushes his nails against the back of the drummer's neck, making him open his mouth in disappointment. Mike's tongue instantly dives into the drummer's mouth and Tré begins clawing at the bassist back. Trying effortlessly to say no...
When Mike pulls away for air, Tré automatically shoves him away and walks towards his jacket.
"I think I need to go now, Mike," He whispers, his fingers tracing the fabric of his jacket.
"No!" Mike interjects and the drummer feels heavy for some reason.
"Yes... I need to go..."

Before the drummer can say anything else, a click is heard behind him. Tré's heard that click distinguish in movies and television shows all the time and he slowly turns around.
Mike's holding a big hand-gun and Tré's eyes double in fear as the bassist stalks towards him. The gun presses against the drummer's head and Tré begins to shake.
"Come here," Mike orders, using the gun so Tré will fall into his arms. Mike pulls him into the living room and backs them against the bare wall.
Mike falls to the ground and Tré falls onto his lap, the gun still pointed at his skull. 
"That's a good boy," Mike mutters, stroking at Tré's hair, "I loved you for a long time now, Frankie."
Tré whimpers and struggles in the bassist's hold. Mike makes shushing noises and pulls the gun away from Tré's head towards his chest.

Tré starts to shake again and Mike places him more firmly between his legs.
"It takes one shot..." Mike whispers, kissing the side of Tré's neck. The gun moves up so it's resting against the drummer's chest.
Tré gulps and almost screams as the bassist finally pulls the trigger...
The bullet pushes through the flesh and Tré gasps out as he finds it hard to breath. A choke noise comes from behind him, but Tré doesn't worry about that... He's too preoccupied with trying to breath.
He places a hand on his chest and pulls it away. Blood sweeps onto his palm and the drummer starts feeling light-headed.

Mike's gasping for breath as well, as the bullet went through Tré and struck him as well.
"M-M-Mike..." Tré gasps, leaning his head back so it rests against the bassist's chest.
"I'm sorry Tré... So sorry," Mike cries, choking on his words and feeling his chest heave up and down.
Tré gasp one last time before collapsing into the bassist's arms. Warm liquid hits Mike's midsection, and he wonders if it's blood. He would have laugh it this wasn't all real, for Tré had pissed himself, but Mike knew this was no laughing matter.
A bitter copper taste was forming in his mouth, and Mike's breath starts to become shallow. Lights and color are beginning to fade and Mike whispers to no one, "Love killed us... Made me kill you... Tré, I loved you more than anything!"

Please leave anything!



( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Sep. 22nd, 2009 09:08 pm (UTC)
Oh holy fuck. This was so sad and so powerful.
Sep. 22nd, 2009 09:36 pm (UTC)
x-x <- you killed me.
it was so deep and scary, i loved it.
Sep. 23rd, 2009 02:29 am (UTC)
oh wow :( sad
nice, though
Dec. 24th, 2009 05:35 am (UTC)
Wow. That was...intense. Very well written though; great job.
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

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