Metallica one shots and headcannons

Unexpectedly Connected- (Jason Newsted one shot)

 The rain had been relentless, a curtain of water that blurred the world outside. I huddled under the bus shelter, arms wrapped tightly around myself, trying to shield my coat from the chill that seemed to seep straight through to my bones. I could barely make out the streetlights through the haze, the city feeling a little quieter, a little softer in the downpour. Still, the weight of the day hung heavy, and I wasn't sure if it was the weather or something else that made everything feel... off.

That's when I noticed him.

A man, tall and soaked, walked toward the bus shelter, a slight frown tugging at his lips. His coat, a bit worn at the edges, flapped slightly in the wind, and his hair—dark with streaks of silver—was plastered to his forehead. He didn't have an umbrella, just walking steadily in the rain, as if it didn't matter, like the world around him wasn't doing its best to drown him out.He stopped a few feet away, leaning against the side of the shelter. His gaze was distant, but I couldn't help but notice the quiet tension in his shoulders. He looked like someone who had been carrying a lot for a long time, someone who needed a break but wasn't sure how to ask for it.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to speak. But then, for reasons I didn't quite understand, I found myself opening my mouth."Rough night?" I asked, my voice softer than I meant. I could feel my heart race slightly, the unease in my chest making me wonder if he would even acknowledge me.He glanced up, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second before flickering away. There was a quiet surprise in his expression, but he seemed to relax a little. 

"Something like that," he said, a wry smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "It's like I'm stuck in a loop, you know?"

I nodded, feeling a strange connection to his words. The way he said it—the exhaustion in his voice—made it clear that this wasn't just a bad day for him. It was something deeper. "I get that," I said softly. "The world keeps moving, but it's like you're just... stuck, waiting for something to change."

For a moment, he didn't respond. He just stared ahead, his expression thoughtful, and I could feel the silence stretching between us, thick with unspoken understanding. Then, he glanced at me again, and this time, his eyes lingered for just a second longer."Yeah," he murmured. "Exactly. Feels like I'm playing the same song over and over, but it doesn't sound the way it used to." There was a faint sadness in his words, something unspoken that seemed to hang in the air.

I tilted my head, a small, knowing smile forming on my lips. "I think... sometimes the thing we love can start to feel like a job, you know? Like it's lost its spark."He blinked, and for a moment, it looked like I'd surprised him. He was silent for a long beat, and I was afraid maybe I'd said too much. But then he gave me a soft smile, a little more genuine this time, and nodded. "Yeah. I play in a band, and lately it feels like the magic is gone. Rehearsals, gigs, it's all just noise now."

I felt a small pang of sympathy. Music should be something that makes you feel alive, not something you dread. "I get that," I said quietly. "But maybe you just need a break. Sometimes, when you keep pushing without rest, the passion fades. You've got to let it find you again."There was a shift in his posture, something about the way his shoulders relaxed as he listened. He met my gaze again, his eyes softer now, like something in him had clicked."Yeah, you're probably right," he said. His voice was lower, softer now, like he was considering the possibility for the first time.

I smiled to myself, feeling a bit lighter as I let my words settle between us. The rain continued to pour down, but for some reason, I felt like I could breathe a little easier. Maybe it was the connection we'd made, or just the simple act of talking to someone who understood.There was a brief moment of silence, and then I felt an urge to do something unexpected. I reached into my bag and pulled out a small notebook, flipping to the last page. I'd written something there once, a reminder I gave myself whenever I felt lost, like the world was too big and I was too small.

I tore out the page and held it out to him, unsure if he'd accept it. He looked at me, brows furrowing slightly, and then slowly reached out, taking it from my hand. His fingers brushed mine for a second, and I felt a small spark run up my arm. It was brief, but it made my heart skip a beat.

"What's this?" he asked, his voice still a little hushed."Just something I remind myself of," I said softly, shrugging a little. "I don't know. Maybe it'll help you too."He unfolded the note, and I watched as he read the words I'd written in my messy handwriting:

"Even when it feels like you're lost, you're still moving forward. Don't give up."

His eyes lingered on the note for a long time, and I couldn't help but notice the way his expression softened. There was something almost vulnerable in the way he looked at the paper, as if it had reached into a part of him he hadn't realized needed to be touched."Thank you," he said, his voice thick with a quiet gratitude. He looked up at me, and this time, his smile was more than just polite. It was warm. It was real. "I needed that."

I felt a warmth spread through my chest. I wasn't sure why, but something about the way he said it made my heart flutter, just a little. "We all need a little reminder sometimes," I said softly.

As the bus headlights appeared down the street, I gathered my things, the feeling between us still lingering in the cool air. We both climbed onto the bus, and as I found a seat near the window, I caught his eye across the aisle. 

There was something unspoken there, a shared understanding, and when he gave me a small, grateful nod, my heart skipped again.The rain still hammered against the windows, but I felt lighter somehow. We might not have said much, but I knew that for a brief moment, two strangers had shared something more than just the weather. It felt like a small spark had been lit between us, something that was warm and real.

And as the bus pulled away into the night, I found myself glancing at him once more, just for a second. His eyes were still on me, and in that quiet look, I knew we both carried something a little lighter now.The rain still fell, but I could feel the warmth of that connection, and I couldn't help but smile.