Tattoos and lipstick - Chester Bennington fan fiction

Prologue

Chester had completed a mission he has been stuck with for four months, where he had to endure long surveillance nights, gathering evidence about human traffic through cargo ships. Hours and hours he spent alone in a rusty and fucking cold car, with nothing but a beanie, a cup of hot steamy coffee in his hand and a bunch of tools like cameras, sensors, radars, and microphones to keep him company.

He is a police investigator, or he was. One of the bests, actually.

He used to work for the police department in New York, but truth to be told, he was never one to obey orders or do his work according to established protocols. It bored him, really.

One day, when a young girl died because he had to follow the fucking rules, to show the system works and because they don't negotiate with crimminals, he literally flipped the table and told his bosses to fuck off, grabbing his stuff and walking away from the precinct with no intention of coming back.

However, he didn't stop doing what he always cherished. He was a good investigator, he was clever, resourceful (being a police officer for almost 7 years allowed him to establish connections, legally or illegally), and he had a deep passion for what he does.

Most importantly, he loves danger. He loves to be at the edge of the most troubling situations. But he also loves to be in control. In fact, he is obsessed with it. Everything has to go as he wants to, everything must work as he predicts them to work.

He does private work as private investigators do, but the police usually invite him to work with them, mainly when there are special cases they think he is better suited for. Sometimes he works as a consultant for the police officer, but he always stayed in charge (non-officially, obviously).

Chester is the most fierce investigator known nowadays. Everyone simply wants to fall in his good graces, otherwise, he'd dig some dark shit about those people and just fuck their lives. And regarding combat strength, he is also an expert on several combat types. There were several people with broken bones after encounters with him, so there was basically nothing he couldn't do by himself.

And during those four months of investigation, he achieved a phase of his life where he started making existential questions to himself. He saw pain, torture, death. Men, women, children. He had to close his eyes every now and then when he saw the worst of human nature in play. All he wanted to do was to blow that shit up, but he couldn't. The people he saw needed to suffer a while longer, he needed solid proof. Not that he needed more than he already had, but it wasn't enough to build a case, investigate billionaires, sheiks, and many powerful people and lock them up for good (hopefully, death penalty), for such atrocity against the human race.

When he saw those children and those mothers, screaming while being torn apart, a new tightness inside his heart was felt. It was strange, he knew it was. He doesn't feel those kinds of emotions anymore.

He lived with his parents in another country until they died. He was just a kid, he had 15 years old. His aunt gave him shelter. She died after he was 18. His first and only girlfriend broke up with him after his last prom, because she fell in love with the popular guy. Ever since it happened, he focused on his studies, to become a cop, a good cop, to do the greater good. He worked hard to achieve what he had today. But during those four months, he felt a void in his heart. Chester was incomplete. He felt like he needed someone to share his frustrations with, to share the feelings those kinds of atrocities made him feel.

He wanted someone to love him, no matter how many flaws he has (which he was aware they were many). Someone who would wait for him every day.

A family.