Linkin Park one-shots

my december

It was cold, February.

It was Mike's birthday.

His first birthday without his mom alive.

And it fucking hurt.

He felt as cold as the wind did, and as empty.

His dad still didn't know how to take it all in.

First, he was a crying mess, sobbing all over Mike's shirt as Mike sat in shock, comforting him any way he could.

Not too long after came anger. And he was so, so angry.

At everyone, at everything, constantly.

Mike couldn't even count all the holes his dad had punched in the walls.

That passed, finally. Then, his dad was back to a crying mess.

And that was pretty much how Mike was, constantly.

His mom was his sense of direction.

It seemed like she always knew what to do in a situation.

She always knew the right things to say.

She knew how to talk Mike out of a panic attack, she knew every one of his friends, and pretty much treated them as her own children.

But most importantly, she picked up on the little things, the little quirks that Mike had.

She could read him like a book, and she could understand him.

He knew no one could understand him like she did. Not even close.

But he did have Chester.

Even though he wasn't his mom, he loved him just as much, just in a different way.

He didn't have mom this year, but he did have Chester, and that was the second best thing, he figured.

"Mike?" Chester whispered, his eyes scanning over Mike's still body quickly.

Mike didn't respond, only continuing to stare at the snow-covered concrete in from of him.

"Hey, Mike." Chester said, a little bit louder, placing a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder.

Mike stayed still for a minute, before looking up at Chester slowly. "Hey."

Chester smiled as Mike scooted over on the bench to give him some room.

They sat in silence for a minute, before Chester broke it. "Are you doing alright, Mike?"

Mike breathed out, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I guess."

"How long have you been out here?" Chester asked, looking at how red Mike's face was.

Mike opened his eyes, and looked over at Chester. "Not long." He mumbled, before looking down at his lap.

Chester raised an eyebrow, giving Mike an 'are you sure about that' expression.

"Okay," Mike sighed, shaking his head softly. "An hour."

"Come on." Chester said, standing up quickly. "We're going inside."

Mike stayed still for a minute, before nodding slightly.

"C'mon. I'll make us some hot chocolate." Chester said, earning the littlest of smiles from Mike. To Chester, that felt like an accomplishment.

Mike stood up slowly, shaking the snow off of his coat, before they stepped inside his house.

"Your dad's not here?" Chester asked in surprise, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at Mike.

Mike only shrugged, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Hot chocolate's in the cabinet."

Chester nodded, before looking at the four cabinets in front of him. "Which one?"

"Top left." Mike answered, yawning slightly.

"Ah." Chester mumbled, pulling a box of hot chocolate out of the cabinet.

Mike watched tiredly as Chester poured some milk and water into the glass, before putting it in the microwave.

After about a minute and a half, he took it back out, putting the mix into the cup, before stirring it.

"Alright, let it cool down a bit." Chester warned, and Mike nodded, watching Chester start on his own cup.

After a couple of minutes, Chester's was done, and he sat down at the table across from Mike, who looked down at his cup absentmindedly.

"What do you wanna do today?" Chester asked, looking at Mike with concern.

"Uh," Mike mumbled quietly, shrugging. "Whatever you want to do is fine."

"We could," Chester started, stroking his nonexistant beard. "Order pizza, play video games, watch tv-"

"Yeah." Mike said quickly, nodding. "Let's watch TV."

Chester smiled, nodding, as he watched Mike get up from the kitchen table.

They both made their way to the living room, Mike sat down on the couch, and Chester sat close beside him.

Chester picked up the remote, flipping through the channels slowly, looking at Mike every so often. "Tell me if you see something you like, okay?"

Mike nodded, and watched Chester flip the channels, until he saw something he liked. "That one."

Chester smiled, glanced at Mike, then set the remote beside him. "Of course, you choose the channel about art."

Mike smiled softly, looking Chester in his eyes, for the first time in a long time. "Chester?" He asked, uncertainly, his voice coming out a little squeaky.

"Mhm?" Chester asked, looking back.

"I love you." Mike said sincerely, smiling as Chester scooted a little closer towards him, and put an arm over his shoulder.

"I love you too, Mike." Chester said, his soft smile turning a little sad the longer he looked at Mike. "I'm sorry I'm not throwing you the big party you deserve."

Mike smiled, laying his head on Chester's shoulder, as he closed his eyes. "I don't care about that, Chester. You know that."

Chester nodded softly, breathing deeply. "I know, but I feel like, I don't know,"

Mike smiled, a real, genuine smile, before attaching his lips to Chester's, taking in all the warmth Chester's body gave off.

He pulled away after a minute, and Chester smiled, closing his eyes in content.

It was good to see Mike smile, no matter how long it lasted, and he would do as much as he could to make it last.

"Chester." Mike whispered, closing his eyes.

"Yeah?" Chester asked quietly, kind of concerned.

"Y'know, when I was little, my mom would always sing to me." He said quietly. "She would sing me to sleep every night, that's probably what I miss most about her."

Chester stayed silent for a minute, feeling Mike's slow breathing against his body. "Do you want me to sing to you?" Chester asked cautiously.

Mike nodded after a minute, making Chester smile.

Mike hadn't been this talkitve or happy since his mom died, and it was good to see fractions of his old self come together, bit by little bit.

Chester started singing, stuff he wrote, and after awhile, he felt Mike start to shake against him.

He was crying.

"Shh," Chester hushed, kissing Mike's forehead comfortingly.

He stroked Mike's hair, for God knows how long, until his breathing evened out.

Chester paused, looking over at Mike, who had a peaceful look on his face as he slept. "Good night, birthday boy."