Worry Rock

The red Jeep was pulled into a parking lot, the radio clock showing 3:23. I rested the cup of coffee I had bought earlier to keep myself awake, trying to avoid another problem that night on the dashboard, un-buckling my seat belt, and turning the car off. I slid out of it, closing the door slightly angry.

The older rocker sat slumped on the steps to the bar, obviously seeing better days.

"Hey, hun." I murmured gently, tapping Billie Joe's cheek to make him wake up, "You still conscious?"

Billie Joe's eyelids slowly parted slightly, revealing two dark green eyes.

I smiled gently, pressing my lips to his forehead.

"Next time you come to the bar with Mike and Tre, make sure they don't leave before you do."

His lips parted, forming a lopsided smile, his eyes slowly closing again.

"Hey.. Hey.. No, no, stay conscious until we at least get to the car.."

He mumbled something, tilting his head to the other side, slowly opening an eye again.

"I'm.. Go-na be 'ick.."

"'Ick' is right," I mumbled, scrunching my nose up, pulling him into his feet, "Come on.."

I wrapped my arms slowly around his body, pulling him onto his feet, his legs wobbling. His arms flew out, grabbing onto my shoulders, his breathing becoming shallow.

"It's okay.." I murmured, "I've got you.."

He grunted, placing his head on my shoulder, his legs starting to wobble worse as I tried to take a step back. He dug his fingers (since he had barely any nails) into my back, tripping over his own feet. I tried to lead him back to the car, but he pulled away after a moment, nearly falling over if it weren't for me grabbing his waist. He hunched over, grabbing his stomach in which my arms were tied around to keep him up, becoming sick. I clamped my eyes closed, never being a fan of someone getting sick.

Ew.

I kept my eyes closed, the weight of his body making it hard for me to hold him up as he lurched forward.

"Oh my god, Billie.." I breathed out, once his drunken body fell back against mine, the bushes that outlined the parking lot not as much of a nice sight as before.

He didn't say anything, just rested his head on my shoulder, a soft whimper escaping his lips, his legs back to wobbling as if he were about to fall and no one was holding him.

"Come on, hun," I murmured, now trying to lead him over to the Jeep, before the bar tender came out and yelled at us for wrecking the bushes.

It didn't take much to get him to, and in the car. But as soon as he was in, he pretty much passed out, his body sprawled out in the front seat.. And despite how uncomfortable it would be, he still had a seatbelt on.

The last thing we needed was a cop stopping us, to find a drunk in the passenger seat, passed out with no seatbelt.

I sighed as soon as I strapped myself in, taking my coffee from the dashboard, draining every last drop of it into my mouth before starting the car up, trying to stay awake for the ride home.

***

I was woken up the next morning by a small animal crawling on top of me, and licking my face. I groaned, swatting at Charlie, him trying to lick my hand then.

"Charlie.. You're such a little pest.." I murmured, shaking my head, the small dog standing on my stomach.

He barked at me, his small tail held high, starting to wag slowly. I sighed lightly, resting a hand on his small head, pulling the duvet up around me more. I looked over to the side of me, biting my bottom lip in confusion when I saw that Billie Joe wasn't next to me. Most of the times he got drunk he slept until at least noon.

The smell of food slowly crept into the room, making me even more confused. Charlie lifted his head in the air, smelling the air, starting to lick it. I giggled, patting the small dog on the back, sitting up in the bed when the door to the room was pushed open.

Billie Joe entered the room slowly, a tray in his hands. He looked back at the door, kicking it closed lightly with his foot before looking over to me, smiling softly. He padded over to the bed, resting the tray on the dresser, wiping his hands on his plaid boxers.

"Morning babe." He murmured, sitting himself down on the bed.

"Morning.." I said softly, before raisin an eyebrow, "What's that?"

Billie Joe shifted his body, reaching over for the tray, putting it on the bed softly.

"I.. Made you breakfast," He said, nodding his head slowly, "As a sort of.. I'm sorry... For calling you, drunk, at 3 in the morning last night. I thought it was the least I could do.."

I grinned, pressing my lips to his cheek.

"You didn't have to. It was fine.. Aww.."

He smiled gently, settling back on the bed next to me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, moving my body closer to his, pulling the tray on my lap.

"Like I was beat to death with a metal baseball bat last night."

I giggled, kissing his bare shoulder. He grinned lazily, wrapping an arm around my back.

"So no hangover?" I asked after a moment, picking apart a piece of toast.

Billie Joe sighed, placing a hand over his eyes, slowly dragging it down his face.

"No.. No.. I definitely have a hangover.. That's what woke me up this morning at 8.. I thought I was going to die or somethin'.. But I didn't."
I laughed, shaking my head, "I kinda figured that."

"Yeah.. Mmm yeah.."

I looked up at him, watching his eyes slowly close one again, taking a deep breath.

"You want some?" I asked after a moment, still slowly eating the toast, "I swear.. You gave me enough to last me the day."

Billie Joe smiled grimly, peeking at me through one eye.

"That's not a lot, baby."

"For me it is. I was never one to eat a lot."

Billie Joe rolled his eyes playfully, swatting at my arm, "I'll puke on you."

"I'll pass, thank you very much."

He laughed softly, curling his body against mine, his head resting on my shoulder.

"Love you," He mumbled into my neck after a moment of comfortable silence, in which I had happily taken the opportunity to stuff myself in.

I smiled, pressing my lips to his own, "Love you, too."

***

"MOOM!"

Billie Joe groaned, a whimper escaping his lips.

"Make her stop yelling.. Please.. Before I start to cry.."

I giggled, shaking my head at the older man, resting my arm on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"MOM!"

I sighed, shaking my head at the 13 year old, "I'm in here, Sydney!"

Billie Joe whimpered again, burying his head in my neck, nipping at it lightly.

"That doesn't mean... Doesn't mean you can yell back.." He murmured, "My head kills when you yell."

"Aww.. Sorry, Billie.."

He sighed, nodding his head slowly as Sydney stepped into the kitchen, dropping her things on the counter, making Billie Joe groan. She raised an eyebrow slowly, looking at her father.

"Dad... Are you okay?"

"No."

"Oh.. Okay."

I laughed, Billie Joe muttering something bitterly into my neck.

"Mom.. Can Eddie come over? I mean, I know he can.. But like.. Yeah... Can he?"

I watched Sydney, confused for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Sure."

She grinned happily, clapping her hands.

"Okay.. Well.. Can me and him go skateboard? At the park?"

"Who's going to be there with you?" Billie Joe asked.

She shrugged, "I don't know.. Probably Dylan, Matt, Shawn, Bobby, Josh, and Chris."

Billie Joe lifted his head from my shoulder, re-thinking the names in his head, "Why are all those names boys names..?"

Sydney shrugged once again, "Because girls at my school don't skate? Besides, I know all the boys that are going to be there, dad."

"I don't like you hanging around with only boys, Sydney.."

"Why?"

"Because.. Wouldn't you rather hang out with girls?"

I rolled my eyes at Billie Joe, feeling bad for Sydney.

"No. I hate the girls in my school. They're all sluts."

"Well, it can't be too healthy to hang out with guys all the time."

"What's the problem?" She snapped back, becoming annoyed with her father, "I just rather hang around my friends than girls I hate. They all hate me, too, dad. They think I'm a spoiled little rich brat, and they hate me. Kay? Now, can I please go?"

Billie Joe stared at his daughter, before looking down, making a pang of guilt hit Sydney.

"Yeah.. Sure.."

She took a deep breath, slowly walking over to her dad and hugging him.

"Sorry, dad.." She mumbled.

He smiled gently, wrapping an arm around his daughter, kissing her cheek.

"It's okay.. And yeah.. I guess you can go."

She grinned, not understand that the "I guess," meant that he didn't want her to.

"Thanks dad.. I'll be back later," she kissed us both quickly, "Bye!"

Billie Joe blinked, turning to look at me.

"She's never home anymore... I feel like she doesn't want to be around us.."

I shrugged, "She's a teenager. Friends come first in her life at the moment."

He nodded slowly, pushing all his weight on me.

"I wish.. I.. we could have that parent-kid relationship.. Like we're friends. Joey and I had that for a lot of his life. I loved it.. He came to me for everything.. You know how he use to call this house like fifty times a day.. No matter what the problem is.. Bugged the hell out of Adrienne.. But it felt nice for me. Even divorced I could still hang out with the kid.. I wish Jakob had been that way.. Instead of hating me.."

"He doesn't hate you, Billie."

"He lost contact with me for 2 years. And when we did talk he was bitter as hell."

"He took the breakup hard.."

"No shit."

***

Rachel showed up at the Armstrong's house later that evening. She was a crying mess, to be truthful.

Tre was back at home, dealing with his own problems, her being one of them.

"I didn't know where else to go," she sobbed quietly, "I mean.. You're my best friend, so-"

"No, no, it's okay," I said softly, "You're not bothering us. Now what happened?"

She sat herself on a stool in the kitchen, burying her face in her hands, tears leaking through her fingers. Her eyeliner was smudged, mascara starting to run down her cheeks.

"Tre and I just had a huge fight," She whimpered, shaking her head, "I don't even know. I don't even know what happened!"

"Was he just in a shitty mood?" I asked gently, placing a hand on her back, "Billie Joe has those moods all the time. Is he still hungover?"

"I don't know, Mand.. He just bitched at me.."

I frowned, not knowing what to do when Billie Joe came into the kitchen, a confused look on his face. I mouthed the word 'fight' to him, him nodding and pointing to the other room, as if to say he'd get the guest room ready.

"He's been doing that so.. So much lately.." She sobbed, "He's been such a jerk to me.. Ever since we got home from New York City.. I just.. I don't know.."

"Have you done anything to provoke him?"

"No." She croaked, "No.. Not at all... He's just being an ass."

"Maybe he's just in a bad mood?"

"Why though?" She mumbled, "There's just.. No hope.. I give up with him.. He's such an ass.. I don't even know why I married him!"

"Don't say that. Do you know what's wrong?" I asked softly.

"I don't know!" She sobbed, "The stupid fuck won't tell me what's wrong! And when I tell him I know something is up, he freaks, telling me I don't know! I just finally left!"

"Oh.. So he didn't kick you out?"

"Hell no. I own as much of that house as he does."

I nodded slowly, keeping an arm around her back as she continued to sob.

"I just.. Fuck, Mandy.. I give up.."

"Don't." I said sternly, "That's not good to say, or do."

She sniffled, shaking her head, "How the hell do you deal with Billie Joe? How the hell do you still have a perfectly solid relationship with him?!"

I shrugged slowly, "I.. I don't know.."

Rachel sighed, wiping tears from her eyes as Billie Joe re-entered the room. He slowly walked over to my side, smiling sympathetically to Rachel who looked up at us, more tears leaking out.

"I'm sorry.." She mumbled, "For coming over so late.. And such a mess.. I really am."

Billie Joe shook his head, resting a hand on Rachel's shoulder for comfort, "It's okay, Rach. I've known Tre most of my life.. He can be a real ass when he want's to be. I've ended up throwing books, food, and a bunch of shit at him at times. No one blames yah, hun."

Rachel shook her head, burying her head back in her hands.

"He blames me."

"He doesn't count, though, Rach. He's an ass, and he blames everything on everyone else."

She wiped at her eyes one last time, brushing the few that crept down her cheeks away.

"How have you dealt with him, Billie Joe? Especially when it was just you, Tre, and Mike on tour!"

Billie Joe sighed, "That man was locked outside so many nights, hun. He's a jackass."

Rachel nodded her head, trying to dry her eyes once again.

"I'm just so.. So.. Fuck.. I don't know.. But he just.. He makes me so sad. He's not suppose to do that, you know?"

"You married him for some reason.."

Rachel sighed angrily, "I don't even know why." She snipped.

"Aww.. Don't say that," I cooed.

She looked up at me, resting her head back on the counter. Billie Joe hopped up on the counter next to her, pulling my body against his even though I wanted standing and wrapping his arms around my stomach.

"Sometimes." She muttered, "Love can really fucking suck."