Herzeleid ~ Rammstein Fan Fiction

Chapter 21

"Sorry everyone, we're late! We fell asleep!" Richard said, slamming the door behind his back, holding hands with Paul.
From the couch, both Flake and Oliver stood up. Till remained sat.
Flake ignored Richard and threw hus arms around Paul's neck, holding him close. He didn't speak. Not a word, anything.
He closed his eyes, shaking hands grasping at his best friend's jumper.
The rhythm guitarist smiled and felt the sting of tears in his eyes. Tears of happiness, relief. Not fear. Not anymore. It wasn't even pain; he didn't feel pain anymore.
Paul inhaled the scent of his best friend.
Flake pulled away and cupped Paul's cheeks. "You're back." The keyboardist chuckled, among tears. "You're back, Paul. Is so good to have you here with us."
Finally, Flake stepped aside and dried his eyes, smiling in relief after months.
"Oli..." It was now Oliver's turn. The tall bassist smiled warmly, and he, too, hugged the small guitarist. However, Paul couldn't ignore the deep, dark eyebags under Oliver's eyes and the effort the tallest did to smile.
"Paul..." He murmured, holding his friend. No other word came out from his mouth.
Paul had missed them, the love of their friends, felling and being loved.
Having them around and being with them in general.

"Oli...is so good to be back."
"How do you feel, Paulie?"
"I'm...still tired and...and...yea, a bit weak."

The shortest chuckled, and after a kiss on the forehead, Oliver pulled away.
At last, Till. The frontman looked at him from the couch, with a deep frown and arms crossed.
Paul swallowed, unsure of what to do. Till ran a hand in his hair and sighed.
He then went back, observing the shortest.
"Oli, Reesh, out." He demanded, pointing at the door. "Flake, you too. Out!"
The three obeyed, without a word, and Till stood up, only once he heard the door closed.
He stared at the rhythm guitarist from close distance, lower lip quivering, and eyes glossy.
"Till..." The frontman embraced him and raised him from the ground. "Paulchen!" Till sobbed, unable to hold the tears any longer. "Paul, my dear, Paul! Welcome back, we were waiting for you, my friend!"
He moved him on the couch and cupped his face, took Paul's hands, touched his arms, his legs, and shoulders.
"Till, I'm here..." Paul chuckled. "You're...you're really here, you're here. Thanks, Lord, you're home."
Till gave him a kiss on top of his head and chuckled. "Welcome home, Paul."

Soon Till allowed the others to join them again. He took his time to dry his eyes and stop the flow of tears.
Richard sat back next to Paul on the couch and made him sit on his lap.
"Where's Doom?" Paul asked all of a sudden. Till and Flake looked at each other. Oliver bowed his head and sighed.
"It's...Doom will be joining us soon."
Just then, a door from upstairs opened, and, a few moments later, Christoph entered the living room. To Paul he looked terrible; his hair was dirty and tangled, his eyes were red and marked with deep eyebags. He was pale and unshaved. He was wearing a black hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants.
"You're back..." He said, his voice hurt his dried throat. It was like he hadn't spoken in weeks, and he didn't look too happy to see so many people at once.
When his tired eyes meet Paul's, he clenched his teeth and turned away.
"Christoph..?" Oliver called. "Stay away from me, Oli!" Doom snapped. "Who the fuck is that!?" The bassist quirked an eyebrow. "Who..?"

"The guy on the couch! The one that looks like Paul! Who is that!?"
"Doom, he's Paul. He's really him."
"Bullshits! Paul is dead, he's gone! Stop it."
"Chris, he's not."

The drummer turned to him and grabbed on the bassist's shirt. "Leave me alone! I have no time to be mocked! I thought you were my friend!"
Oliver swallowed. "I am, Doom. We are friends, it's okay. Breathe, please. I'm here. Like we did the past months, okay?"
He took his hands and guided him back to his bedroom. Doom fell on his bed and huffed. Oliver closed the door and sat next to him. "Chris, don't cry, please."

"Paul is dead! I don't know who you brought here, but I don't want to see him."
"Christoph, Paul is your friend."
"THAT'S NOT PAUL!" Christoph sobbed, grabbing his head and digging his nails in his head. "HE'S NOT MY FRIEND! THAT'S NOT HIM!"
Oliver shushed him, caressing his hair. "Paul is dead...I don't want to see that impostor. I want Paul...go away, Oli. It's over."
The bassist shook his head. "No. I'll prove to you that's Paul. It's him, is alive."
Doom gave up almost immediately. With a sigh, he nodded and dragged himself out of the room.
Oliver led him into the living room.
The others were still chatting together.
"Paul." Oliver called, and Schneider felt his blood boil when the shortest man turned to them.
"Can you come? We...need your help."