Words You Wouldn't Say

Maxwell was sitting on the playground at three in the morning when Mike found him.

Mike wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and Max gave a small thanks, but otherwise didn't move. Both men were quiet as Maxwell stared up at the stars, eyes going unfocused at times. Flashes of things he would really rather forget kept coming up when he lost focus, so he'd resigned himself to trying to count as many stars as he could without counting the same ones.

He'd started over fifteen times already.

After the horizon started to turn pink, Mike said, "Come back to bed." Max let him lead the way back to the room they'd started sharing.

It wasn't because Max had decided to forgive Mike, or anything. He hadn't been planning on staying in his bed so often, had wanted to give them a chance at a relationship without all the touching and what not.

But he fell out of bed the first night, and the cuts and bruises made it hard to get up again.

And the nightmares weren't as bad when Mike was there.

So Mike wrapped them up at night and held onto Max when he started to thrash and made him feel better.

But Max couldn't sleep, not tonight, so he'd gently pulled away when Mike finally fell asleep and made his way outside. It had been four hours later when Mike found him.

Max climbed into bed and Mike tucked himself around him, rubbing his arm gently. His arms had healed first, although they were a little bruised still. Mike had taken special care to make sure Max didn't hurt, getting a brand new bed with sleep foam or whatever the fuck that was that was soft as a cloud. Max hadn't complained, though he was a little miffed.

He dozed until he felt Mike slip out of bed to check on Otis.

Mike returned a few minutes later with a cup of hot coffee, placing it on the table on Max's side of the bed and giving him a slow kiss that woke him up again. Max hummed and pushed himself up slowly, glancing down when he noticed Mike's eyes on his bandages again. The bandages were soaked red.

"At least they're not leaking this time," he said with a smile that Mike didn't return. He sighed softly and took the coffee as Mike went to get more bandages, the bandage on his right upper arm tightening against the muscles. He sighed softly and loosened the bandages as Mike walked back into the room, a wet cloth and antiseptic in one hand and fresh bandages in the other.

He managed to shimmy out of most of the bandages, and Mike pulled them off all the way, wiping at him carefully. Max closed his eyes and waited patiently as he tended to the ones on his front first, then his back. He could hear the strangled noise that Mike made every time he looked at Max's bare back, and he bit at his lips. He hoped that, if nothing else faded, those ones did.

Once Mike finished applying the antiseptic, Max stood, and he re-wrapped Max's bandages. Max sat back down again, leaning against Mike for a second as he cleaned up the old bandages and threw them away. He pressed a gentle kiss to Max's forehead and Max started sipping the coffee again.

After a while, they ended up curled up together again, lips pressing together lazily. Mike's hands roamed slowly over the bandages, which Max had come to realize was him checking if they were too tight or too loose. Several kissing sessions had been interrupted to fix Max's bandages.

Mike sighed softly when he found nothing wrong with Max's bandages, his hand coming to rest on Max's hip. Neither of them said anything, and after a while Mike brushed his lips over Max's forehead.

"Why did you leave?" Max asked suddenly. Mike pulled away to give him a confused look. "When I was a senior. Why did you leave without saying anything? Why didn't you contact me?"

Mike looked guilty. His expression told Max he was trying to find the right words, so Max waited, eyes on Mike's face. After a while, Mike said, "I suppose at the time I thought it would be better for you." Max waited for the explanation, and Mike sighed. "You said that your parents were mad, and I thought, maybe if they think there's no other option, they'll still take care of you. Maybe if they think that I was just an asshole taking advantage, they'd forgive you."

Max looked down at Mike's chest, but Mike continued. "In hindsight, that was really stupid of me. I could've taken you on tour, or just let you stay in my empty apartment, but..." He buried his nose in Maxwell's hair. "I just figured you'd rather have your family." Max made a small noise in the back of his throat and closed his eyes.

At the same time Otis woke up, the doorbell rang.

"You get Otis," Max said, standing and walking out of the room and to the door. He'd forgotten his shirt, he realized as he grabbed the knob, but he probably didn't need it. Chester and the other band members had a habit of popping up early and leaving late, probably in an effort to keep Max busy at the behest of Mike. He opened the door, expecting to see Phoenix (they rotated every few days; Chester usually brought his boys on the weekends, leaving the other members to occupy him Monday through Thursday, and since it was Tuesday, it was Phoenix's turn) but instead a man in a crisp looking suit holding a brief case stood there, waiting.

He took in a deep breath when he saw the bandages that wrapped around most of Max's chest, then looked up at Max's face, smiled and held out his hand. "Matthew Brodrick, district attorney," he said with a smile. Max shook his hand slowly, confused. He recognized him, of course; Brodrick had given a few speeches in some of his law classes, and he'd seemed humble and honest. "I apologize for coming by so early; the college didn't have any methods of contacting you outside of your email, and your mother said you'd be here." Max nodded slowly. "Do you mind if I come in, Maxwell?"

Max glanced back down the hallway and shook his head, letting Brodrick in. He stepped in and set his briefcase on the coffee table, taking a seat in one of the chairs that Brad had left ("Honestly, I just bought a really comfortable one and this one's just taking up space, take it off my hands."). Max didn't sit, his hands wringing slightly.

"I'm here," Brodrick started, "because of the case against Jace Richards." Max flinched and looked away, dirty blond hair specked with his own blood swimming into his vision. "I regret having to come to you, for this, Maxwell, but we have to get your testimony. As a law student, I'm sure you understand why." Max nodded, lips thinning as he pressed them together. Mike came into the room briefly, then disappeared back into the hallway, only to come back with a shirt for Max. He took it gratefully and watched as Mike took Otis to the kitchen to feed him.

"It's been a few weeks," Max said finally. "At this point I've been wondering when exactly someone would be trying to get to me." Brodrick smiled faintly.

"We wanted to give you some time," he said. "I understand that it can't be easy in any way to deal with the aftermath of what happened." Max rubbed his neck. "Richards won't be getting out anytime soon. The issue, however, is that he might not get the sentence he deserves." Max's eyes flicked to Brodrick quickly, taking in the serious look on his face and the way he leaned on his knees. "There is no doubt whatsoever that Jace tortured you with the intent to kill you when he was done. There is, however, doubt that he murdered all the other men."

Maxwell felt rage building inside him. He felt like he was going to throw up from it - Dylan and Aryn and Ryan whose murderer wouldn't get the justice he deserved. His hands balled up into fists, and Brodrick said quickly, "I know he's guilty, as does everyone else at the DA's office. The issue is that knowing he's guilty is not the same as having proof. Not only do I need your account of what happened, Maxwell, i'm going to need you to testify." Maxwell swallowed.

"If that's what it takes," he said thickly. Matthew nodded.

"Good, keep that conviction. I'll draw up some questions that the defense might ask you, alright? Following protocol, I need to know everything that happened, and everything he did and said to you." Maxwell lowered his gaze and moved to sit on the couch. It was going to be a long day.

*

Max sneezed, and Mike's hand pressed against his forehead.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked gently. Chester glanced up from his phone.

"For the seventy-fifth time, Mike," he said, "he's fine. You'd be less worried if you stopped letting him walk around at night."

"He sleepwalks," Mike defended. "You're not supposed to wake people who are sleepwalking." Max sighed softly and Rob nudged him gently.

"You sure you're not getting a cold?" he asked.

"Positive," he said softly. Rob nodded, satisfied, and turned back to drumming a beat on his legs.

"I know we're supposed to be on our best behavior," Chester said, "especially after nearly murdering that guy and all, but is it okay to boo when he comes out?"

"Be happy you're being allowed in the courtroom," Mike said.

"Well they have to let us in, we have to testify too," Chester pouted.

"Yes," Rob supplied. "Beating the living shit out of someone would cause us to have to testify."

"Honestly," Chester grumbled, "why would the judge give him a lesser sentence just because we got a little angry? Who wouldn't get angry?"

"The big brothers I never had," Maxwell mumbled.

"Hey, you had us," Chester said.

"For four years," Max retorted, standing when the door to the courtroom opened and Brodrick beckoned them inside. He bit his lip and followed Chester when he took the lead inside. They took seats behind the DA's side. People who looked like they could be Jace's family sat behind the defendant's side, and they wouldn't meet his eyes. Chester made sure to get their attention, though, flipping them off with a sneer that got him a reprimand from the DA.

"...put you outside of this courtroom until you're called to the stand - " he warned. Mid-sentence, a door opened on the other side of the gate and Jace was led in, hands and ankles cuffed. He was seated at the table in front of his family, but his gaze went to Maxwell first. Maxwell turned his head away quickly, and Mike whispered into his ear.

"He can't hurt you ever again." The statement was comforting, but he couldn't shake the horror. Grey eyes stared at him every time he closed his eyes.

Everyone stood as the judge entered the courtroom. Max eyed the jury briefly, wondering about their life stories. Everyone sat, and the trial began.

The defense started. Jace pleaded no contest to torture, but denied attempted manslaughter. Max swallowed, hearing hissed threats in his head, and his grip tightened on the bench. Mike rubbed his forearm gently before taking his hand. Max brushed his thumb over the back of Mike's hand and pulled away.

His lawyer called Chester, then Rob, to the stand. He used their testimonies to point out his defendant's mistreatment. The DA questioned them lightly, but Max already knew that he was the main source of the DA's case against Jace. After a while, the defense sat back down, giving the DA the floor. Brodrick stepped out from behind his desk.

Max braced himself for what was coming.