Club - a Breddy Fanfic.

20) Hit

They run all the way to the Club, barge into the entrance and almost crash into one of the bouncers. His name is Leo, Mason knows because he is friendly with their group. He immediately asks him where his friend is. He has to raise his voice, for the music around them is suddenly loud again.
"Hey Leo, Vincent called me. You know what's going on? Where's Brett?!"

The broad shouldered bouncer jerks his head up to the stairs. "Upstairs, to the right. Don't worry. He'll be alright."

They run up the stairs, the music much softer now, but when they turn around the corner they immediately hear a lot of other noise. When they open the door, they witness a turmoil of  gigantic proportion inside. It's not caused by Brett or Timo, but by Vincent and Peter. They're like two headless chickens running around Brett, who is sitting slumped on a chair, his head leaning back and a wet cloth on his face, while the others are circling him and yelling all kinds of questions and unnecessary advice.

Mason is the first one to enter. He stops dead in his tracks and looks at the chaos in disbelief. Eddy and Luke almost crash into him because he's halted so suddenly.

Mason shakes his head, glances at the ceiling for a moment, as if he's asking for support from above, and takes a deep breath to stabilize his temper. He takes another breath before bursting out "YOU TWO! SHUT. UP. RIGHT. NOW!"
It has its desired effect. The men turn around and breathe in visibly, glad that someone with some sense has arrived.

"For freaks sake, mates! Control yourself. Now get out of my way and let me get a look at Brett." he scoffs, hitting the back of their heads to knock some sense into them when he passes them.

Eddy and Luke walk quickly to the other side of the room where Timo is sitting up normally, but he has a big bruise at one side of his face and the knuckles of his right hand are red. He looks up at Eddy, slightly ashamed, but quite defensively.
Eddy, wide eyed, raises his shoulders and turns the palms of his hands upwards, the gesture replacing the words 'What the actual fuck?!'
Timo feels the accusation and replies defensively. "I'm sorry Eddy. I just couldn't help myself. He..." he points an index finger accusingly in Brett's direction "... hurt you! I just can't forgive him for that, now can I!"

"Wait a minute. So You started it?! Why?! You thought it a good idea to bash his face in for me? Like I need to be fought over? What am I? Some kind of damsel in distress? I can handle things myself, you know. I'm freaking 24!" Eddy is so not pleased. "What if he presses charges? I don't want you to get mixed up in something like this over me!"

Timo looks down to the ground. He know Eddy's right.

Across the room Mason charts Brett's injuries. "Brett, you think he broke something?"

A muffled deep voice answers him from under the cloth. "No. Just a severe nose bleed, a black eye and bruised cheek. I think." Brett pulls the fabric away to show the damage. It's not a pretty sight. Timo really let himself go.

From across the room Timo looks at him and pales. Now he sees what he has done, he is surprises that he is the one that has made this mess. He's never done something like this. It just happened in a frenzy. He knows he shouldn't have done this. "Brett... I'm sorry... I shouldn't have gone that far. I shouldn't have lost it like that." He looks apologetically at Brett.

Brett looks up at him, his glasses askew and blood still dripping from his nose, his cheek already quite bluish. "I've seen worse. You were right though. I had it coming." He then looks straight at Eddy.
Eddy, glancing back and forth between Timo and Brett, eyes red still, looking very pale and so very sad. He clearly can't believe what just happened and doesn't know what to do or say.

Brett sighs. "Eddy... I'm sorry. I'm so, so very sorry."
He looks like he also wants to cry. But he doesn't. Instead he rises all wobbly and tells the room he's leaving. He doesn't wait for a response and walks quickly to the hallway where he encounters one of the bouncers. They soon hear Leo's voice. Apparently he doesn't want him to leave and they can hear them argue.
"No! I'm going home. I'm fine! Stop fussing." Brett's voice is audible from inside. Leo grumps something back. "No, I won't press charges. Just let him go! I'm leaving. Go to Mason and bother him if you must but I'm going home. Get out of my way!"

Inside, Mason nods at Vincent and Peter. They understand the command behind it and leave to support Brett on his way home. There's some ruckus and then Leo, all big muscles and gloominess, enters to check on the men inside. He looks at Mason for an explanation, but he just shrugs in return. Leo sighs and turns to Timo. "You're a lucky bastard. Brett's a stubborn brat and I won't hold you here any longer. I'll explain to the cops when the arrive." He rolls his eyes up. "What a night. Now shoo!" 

Timo gets up quickly, thanks him with a small voice and hurries out of the door, followed by the others.

....

Brett, who walked out of the Club with so much conviction, is now having a bit more difficulty just standing. Fortunately, Vincent and Peter are already there to support him. They both put one of his arms over their shoulders and stagger away over the pavement. It's like they are supporting a very drunk friend. Brett does look the part with his fuzzy look, his glasses still askew on his face and his uncertain gait. But his face tells a different story. His nose still hasn't stopped bleeding and his left cheek now seriously swelling and turning more purple by the minute, tells a different story. Luckily they don't encounter anyone.

"What the fuck was his deal!" Peter swears.

Vincent shakes his head. "He came lunging at you like a lunatic, man! What is his problem! What an asshole!"

Peter is getting more angry by thinking back. "You needed us both to get him off you! Damn. Crazy fucker."

The constant stream of words is interrupted by a soft voice. "Can you both please shut the fuck up and get me home? Please?!"

"But Br..." Peter can't finish his sentence, because he's interrupted by Brett.

"NO. Please! No more words. Home. Now."

The rest of the way they walk in silence, while Vincent and Peter glance from time to time at their wounded friend, wondering what will happen when they get home.

When they finally stumble into their place, Brett immediately crashes onto the couch and rests his head on the side. He has a splitting headache now. Peter gets him some aspirin, which he downs with a glass of water. Vincent has arranged an icepack from the fridge, puts his glasses aside and presses the heavenly coldness on Brett's cheek. "Your glasses are a real mess. You have spare ones, right?"

"Yeah. In my desk, top drawer. I'm way too blind without them to not have a backup."

Peter, glad he can do something, heads to Brett's bedroom right away. "I'll get it for you. Then we can go to the optician tomorrow to fix these. Hopefully they can."

Brett just closes his eyes. His head pounces. The world turns behind his closed eyelids. But it's not only by the inflicted physical pain. The image of Eddy with so much hurt on his face won't leave his thoughts.

------

VNV-Nation: Epicentre

I asked myself was I content with the world that I once cherished
did it bring me to this darkened place to contemplate my perfect future
I will not stand nor utter words against this tide of hate
Losing sight of what and who I was again
I'm so sorry if these seething words I say
Impress on you that I've become the anathema of my soul

I can't say that you're losing me
I always tried to keep myself tied to this world
Though I know where this is leading
(please) no tears, no sympathy
I can't say that you're losing me
But I must be that which I am
Though I know where this could take me
No tears, no sympathy

Gracefully, respectfully, facing conflict deep inside myself
Here confined, losing control of what I could not change
Gracefully, respectfully I ask you please don't worry, not for me
Don't turn your back, don't turn away

no tears for me
no sympathy