Words You Wouldn't Say

Max was dozing off when Mike returned to their hotel room.

He woke when he heard the shower turn on and checked on Otis, who was sleeping in the crook of his arm. Positive that the baby was fine, he rubbed his face groggily and flipped on the light, listening as he heard Mike sing to a song he must've played earlier. He smiled sleepily and flipped on the television, finding the news channel and leaving it there, despite having no idea what it was saying.

Mike walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. He smiled when he saw Max awake and pulled on some pajamas before climbing into bed.

"Sorry," Max mumbled sleepily. "I tried to wait for you to get back."

"It's okay," Mike said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He flipped off the television and turned off the light before pulling Max to his chest. Max remained quiet as Mike checked his bandages before letting his hand drop, satisfied that Max didn't need an immediate change of bandages. Max had grown so used to being without bandages that it felt almost alien for Mike to check them every time they touched again. "How's it feel?"

"It itches," Max said honestly. He hummed when Mike pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Took a pain pill earlier so it doesn't hurt." He paused, and then said, "My arms are gonna be so scarred after I've healed." Mike's hands rubbed his arms.

"Could talk to Chester," he said thoughtfully. "He could probably get you some nice tattoos to cover it up." Max thought about it for a second before shaking his head.

"Not my thing." He massaged the bandage on his hand. "I don't mind the stares, not really." Mike hummed softly, curling in more around Max. "Besides, they're kind of a part of me. Those events shaped me, for better or worse."

"They don't define who you are, Max," Mike started, and Max shook his head.

"I know they don't," he said, patting Mike's hand to comfort himself as much as the other man. "But still, those things will stay with me the rest of my life. I survived - these are my trophies." He felt Mike's lips against his neck, but the other man remained silent. "But hey, at least the second attempt on my life wasn't as emotionally scarring, right? Or we'd have had to bring Amalia with us."

Mike made a small annoyed sound before saying, "I'm sure Rob wouldn't have minded." Max chuckled slightly, but said nothing as Mike's hand wrapped around his. "Do you want to talk about it?" His voice was soft, as if he were talking to a wounded animal and didn't want to scare it off.

Max's whole body screamed no, but he didn't say anything for a few minutes. He wasn't sure if Mike had fallen asleep when he said, "The first time I went and talked with Amalia, when you made me go, I remembered that someone else had been there, helping Jace. I didn't know who, I never saw their face." He sighed. "I didn't want to tell you, and I told myself it was because I didn't want you to worry, but it was more because telling you, telling anyone outside that room would make it real. It would mean it wasn't over, and I wanted it to be over."

Mike's hand rubbed against Max's stomach gently, and he stayed quiet as Max continued. "It's just been one problem after another - I wanted to be in denial of there being anything else to deal with. I just wanted to get over it." He sighed shakily. "But even if I'd told you, told the DA, I don't think they would have found Melody. I hadn't even suspected..."

"She did a lot of damage for being so tiny," Mike commented, thumb catching on Max's bandage. Max gave a soft, breathy laugh and glanced at Otis, who was sleeping away. "You should've told me, Max."

"You would've freaked out."

"For good reason!" Mike huffed. "I could've gotten security," he countered. "You would've at least been a little safer." Max sighed again and anger crept into Mike's tone as he said, "You could've died. And what would've happened to Otis?"

Guilt filled Max, and he said quietly, "I'm sorry, Mike. I can't say anything but I'm sorry. I should have told you, I didn't, I'm sorry." Mike sighed against Max's neck, pulling his arms away and flipping over. Max turned to look at him.

"Get some rest," he said. "We've got a long plane ride tomorrow."

Max sighed and turned back over, gently pulling Otis close. He wasn't looking forward to another plane ride; Otis crying, Mike passing out, and Chester telling another obnoxious story about their escapades during the thirteen years they'd been apart from each other. He was so thankful there were only two more shows until Mike's December break.

Mike was asleep within minutes, but Max couldn't get himself to doze off again. After a while of staring at nothing, he crept gently out of bed and gathered up all the dirty clothes, stepping out of the room to head for the laundry mat down the hall of the hotel.

"Max?" Max glanced down the hall to see Brad stepping out of his own room, a bundle of clothes in his arms. "Washing Mike's clothes?"

"Yeah," Max said with a nod. They started down the hall together. "Nothing better to do."

"I couldn't stand the smell," Brad responded as they reached the room. They took two of the washers and started their loads. "How are you feeling?" Max pursed his lips and rubbed his arms, fingers catching on the ace bandages. "Stupid question." They sat on the floor of the wash room and Max pulled his legs to his chest.

"Mike's still upset," he mumbled, almost too low for Brad to hear. Brad simply studied him. "I should've told him. I don't know why I didn't."

Brad sighed. "That's not really why he's upset, Max." Max glanced up at him and the tired look on his face. "Mike got the call from Amalia in the middle of a concert. The first thing he wanted to do was leave, but he couldn't. He couldn't even call to find out if you were alive." Max bit his lip. "As much as we all wanted to rush to your side, we couldn't. He didn't even stop to change his clothes, he just rushed to the airport. He thought... we all thought it was going to be as bad as last time." Max swallowed and looked away.

"I was only under long enough for them to stitch me up."

"Long enough for his active imagination to run wild," Brad said as if he were correcting Max. "He's upset because he thinks he could've prevented it. Should've prevented it."

"He couldn't have known," Max said, rubbing his face.

"He wanted to get security, the first time." Max watched Brad rub his long fingers together. "I told him not to, because you'd just get annoyed. It was a little late to do any good, anyway. The asshole was behind bars and you were safe; Chester and Rob had seen to that." Brad sighed. "He thinks if I hadn't said anything, or if he hadn't listened, he could have done something."

Quietly, Max asked, "Do you think you could've done something?"

Brad thought about it briefly. "Maybe. A bit late to regret it, though." He gave Max a sidelong glance. "I was just really fucking relieved when Mike called to tell us you were okay." Max gave a soft chuckle when he heard Brad cuss, and Brad gave him a soft smile and stood to put the washed clothes into the dryer. When Max made to get up to do the same, he held his hand out. "I got it, I'm up anyways." Max re-situated himself on the floor as Brad moved Max's load into the dryer.

Max ran his fingers through his hair and tilted his head back, sighing softly. Brad let the silence hang for a while before he sat back down, then said, "You've been handling it pretty well."

"I can't sleep," Max confessed in a whisper. "I'm afraid I'll hurt Otis, or Mike. I doze off while they're sleeping, but..." Brad studied him and looked back at the dryer.

"You need a break," he said with certainty. Max laughed.

"Yeah." He leaned against Brad and sighed.

"Don't worry, Max," Brad said as Max closed his eyes. "Every little thing is gonna be alright," he sing-songed, causing Max to laugh softly.

"Yeah, sure." Brad laughed.

*

Max yawned as he walked onto the plane, Mike directly behind him and Rob leading the way. Otis was looking around intently, shaking his toy keys and babbling at the stewardess as she cooed at him and took Max's bag to put it in the overhead. He thanked her repeatedly and took his seat, automatically going for the recline button, as the stewardess tucked his bag away and moved to help Phoenix. Mike tucked his bag into the overhead next to Max's and sat next to him, rubbing his knee comfortingly.

Brad walked onto the plane and immediately tucked his bag away before turning to Max and plucking Otis from his hands. Max's eyes went wide and he looked up at Brad in surprise, but the other man was already sitting in his chair, talking quietly with Joe.

When Max made a sound of protest, Brad glanced at him and gave a small smile. "Take a break," he said in a gentle tone, before grabbing the baby bag from between Mike's legs and turning back to Joe as if nothing had happened. Mike glanced at Max, eyebrow piqued, and Max rubbed his face.

"It's been a long day," he said quietly. A seven months long day, he thought idly. Mike looked up when Chester called his attention.

After the plane took off, Max lifted the divider between their seats and curled closer into Mike's side, closing his eyes and listening to the quiet hum of the engines and Chester's voice as he talked. Mike shifted him and he grumbled, but he was quickly silenced when Mike's arm wrapped around him and pulled him closer.

After a while, he heard Mike say in his ear, "Hey. You asleep?"

"No," he mumbled. Mike's lips pressed against his temple and he waited for the other man to say something.

"It's been a long year," he eventually said. "I'm glad you're here, though." Max hummed sleepily. "I won't make you and Otis come on the next part of the tour. But I've asked Talinda to go and help you with the baby when your mom's busy." Max grumbled.

"I can take care of Otis," he protested.

"You're asleep on your feet," Mike countered. "You can't take care of Otis twenty-four-seven, and you have to take care of yourself too. Just... let people help you." Let me help you.

"Okay," he said, resigned. Mike whispered a thank you against his skin and he felt a soft kiss pressed to his temple. "You know, I didn't have any of these problems before Chester coerced me into going to your house that night."

Mike chuckled softly. "You'd probably be dead if it weren't for Chester."

"Yeah!" he heard Chester complain. "Ungrateful. Pushing you out of your comfort zone saved your life."

"I probably wouldn't have said yes to that date with Ryan," Max said thoughtfully.

"Why not?" Mike asked.

"He wasn't my type. Plus, I only did it to piss you off," he said, smiling slightly. He felt Mike laugh more than he heard him.

"That's the Max I remember from high school." Max's smile widened and he shifted into Mike's warmth.

"Max from high school would've denied that it was to piss you off," Max reminded him. "He'd also deny that it was because of incredibly homosexual feelings."

Mike laughed loudly.