Champion

Chapter 4

As Mike made his way to Tré's house, he felt uneasy. Having to end the vacation early because his best friends apparently can't cope without him was not exactly how he planned this.

When he pulled up, he got out and went straight upstairs, figuring both Tré and Billie would be in Tré's room. He was met with a depressed looking drummer, lying flat and trying to watch the TV, but no Billie. "Hey," Mike spoke softly, and Tré sighed.

"Hi." Deadpan.

Mike frowned. This was not like Tré. "You okay, man?"

Tré had to bite his lip to stop from snapping again. Did he look okay? Did he fucking really?

But instead he simply nodded.

Mike picked at his jeans nervously. "Where's Beej?"

Tré shrugged and resumed flicking through the channels.

Mike sighed and went on the search for the singer, heading to the bathroom first. When the fluffy black haired dork was no where to be seen, Mike headed to the kitchen.

There he found the man, his best friend, sitting on the kitchen floor with his knees clasped to his chest. The singer was staring at the counter opposite him, his eyeliner smudged with tears. He was sniffling, chewing on one of his thumbs.

Mike frowned and dropped down to his level. "Beej?" Billie's head turned and when he saw Mike, he practically collapsed on him, still a mess of sniffles and tears. Mike rubbed his back comfortingly, whispering soothing words. "What's wrong, Billie Joe?"

Billie sat up a bit and wiped his eyes with his sleeves.

What was right?

His best friend was hurt and it was all his fault. He was the worst. The worst human in history. In the future, children will study him in history books as being the worst best friend that ever existed.

However all Mike received was an "all my fault". Despite the short statement, Mike understood. He hugged Billie tightly and rocked with him.

"No no, it's not your fault. These things happen." Mike tried, stroking Billie's hair, but the smaller man was not comforted.

"Tré hates me." He sniffled, burying his head against Mike's neck. Mike frowned once again. He was pretty sure that at this moment in time, Tré hated everything that breathes. However, he was sure this wouldn't comfort Billie.

"Listen, he's grumpy and in pain. He's bound to be snappy. Hell, he wasn't nice to me either. It has nothing to do with what happened." He brushed Billie's hair back. "I'm going to go back upstairs and see if he needs anything. Splash your face with cold water and calm down, then come up when you're ready. I'm sure he'll want to say sorry."

Billie nodded, moving to stand up and go to the sink as Mike headed back upstairs. He splashed his face like Mike had said, drying it off.

As Mike approached Tré's bedroom, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He would have expected Tré to be slightly upset that he was stuck in bed for a while, but he didn't expect him to act like this.

Mike stopped outside the door, scratching his chin where his stubble was growing.

It wasn't just the accident, it had to be something else.