Cheaters = Losers

Chapter Text

"T-Tré?" I questioned again, my exhausted mind unable to wrap itself around the person who was calling me.
"Yeah," he spoke softly.
"Hi,"
"Hey,"
"Hi," I heard his laugh echo down the phone and all I wanted to do was cry.
"I miss you so much," I blurted.
"I miss you, too," there was a pause, and I just took the time to hear him. Hear his sigh, followed by his breathing. Hear that he was there, and alive and talking to me.
"I thought you'd be mad at me," I whispered, my voice suddenly incredibly difficult to force out around the lump settled in my throat.
"I'd never be mad at you," he reassured me, and at least there was a little trickle of warmth running down my chest.

"How is everyone?" I asked after a few minutes of general catching up. I heard Tré's voice catch a little.
"Actually that's what I was calling you about,"
"Shit," I muttered, so quietly that he couldn't hear me. There was a fast growing cold feeling spreading throughout my whole body.
"I think you broke us," he chucked sadly. "Billie, he's-" Tré cut himself off as if he was thinking.
"What?" Panic was stabbing my chest.
"Billie's broken. Like, really broken. We just about got what had happened out of him and he's not spoken to either of us since. And he's been hurt before, Lily, like with Adie and he drank a lot and smoked a lot and wrote a lot of songs about it and played like he was punishing that guitar,"
"Adie?" I questioned, when we had first met Billie had mentioned her as a friend who he had faked a marriage with.
"He didn't tell you?" Tré's voice was resigned. "They were together for ages, I mean they met on the first Green Day tour and had been in love ever since. Everyone thought she was it, including Billie. And then one day in the papers it said they were married, and it turned out she'd mentioned it in an interview when they asked how serious they were. Billie went apeshit, he was just about to ask her and then she went and fucked him over like that. No one really knows what happened after that, but they just started fighting about everything and then they broke up,"
"Oh," was all I managed
"Yeah, so what I'm saying is that Billie's been hurt before and he freaks out. He's not freaking out. He's not talking to anyone. He's not drinking, he's not smoking. Hell, Lily, he's not even playing! All he does is lie in that room. He won't talk, we can't even get him to eat and last week he locked his door."
"Fuck,"

And it was about then that Tré sounded so vulnerable.
"I'm scared, Lily. And I'm not joking either. Jimmy's all fucked up too, she went mental when she found out and then she went quiet too. And me and her, we've been going through some stuff and I think she needs you right now to talk to about this because I don't know how to deal with it,"
"Oh my god, Tré," I hushed him, worried about the tone in his voice.
"We need you back, Lily, Jim needs you and Billie needs you, heck even I need you, and Mike and Ruby all of us!"
"I-I can't. I'm pretty sure Billie never wants to see me, it was him who made me stay,"
"What?"
"What?"
"He made you stay?"
"Yeah?"
"The little shit never told us that! For fuck's sake, he needs to get his shit together!"
"Tré, what's going on?"
"Billie does this bullshit thing when he loves someone where he panics because he's scared that he's more in love with you then you are with him and then he tries to push you away and make better choices because he never feels like he's good enough,"

We both went quiet as I let that settle through my slowly clearing mind. I couldn't make heads or tails of the situation, I had no idea what was going on, or what I was supposed to say or do.
"Lily?"
"Hm?"
"Do you want to come back to America?"
"Tré-"
"No, I know what you're going to say and I don't wanna hear it. This isn't about anyone but you. Do you want to come back here?"
"I," I paused although my mind was already made up. "Of course I do,"
"Then it's done,"
"Tré, what are you doing?"
"You're coming back!" He sang and just in case I'd forgotten I was talking to Tré Cool, he hung up the phone on that bombshell.

I was sat on the floor at 5am completely perplexed, and struggling to decide if that had happened or not. There was a soft knock at my door which made me jump, but it was just Chris popping her head around the door.
"I heard you talking, is everything okay?" She asked me worriedly.
"Tré called," I said, my voice thick with emotion.
"And?"
"We just had a chat," I lied, and told her about the catching up stuff, leaving out what Tré had said about coming back, because I didn't even know what was going on myself.

Chris left shortly after because I went quiet and became absorbed in a game on my phone, telling her that I was done talking to her. After fidgeting while staring at my blank wall where I had ripped a Green Day poster down for a long time, I was on the verge of giving up and going on a run when I saw my phone light up with a text message from Tré. I almost tripped over in my frantic rush to read what he had sent, only to feel my heart jump into my throat.

There was a web link which I clicked and took me to a page with a conformation. Tré had booked me a ticket on a flight to Oakland, for this afternoon. Without thinking I switched the screen and stabbed at the call button.
"Tré, what the hell!?" I yelled.
"What?" His voice was considerably more Tré, with a cheeky sing-song tone.
"You bought me a plane ticket!"
"You said you wanted to come back," he said and I could hear his little smirk and shrug.
"Yeah, but not in two hours!" I protested. "It's not that simple!"
"Isn't it?" The line went dead.

"Fuck you Tré!" I threw my phone down and it felt like my body was going into autopilot. Before I could compute what the hell I was doing I was throwing everything I owned into suitcases, until what little I had left in my room was completely packed, and a hastily written note was on my desk.
My parents still hadn't woken up and Chris had gone out to see her girlfriend at the Bakery where she worked so I was clear to make the run outside where the taxi I had called was waiting for me.

I arrived at the airport and checked in. As soon as my bags were dropped off and I was alone in the shopping bit I felt the nerves begin to built to a point where it hurt and I had to sit down. What the hell was I doing? Running away to America again, following a hopeless love again. It was Tré's fault, he'd made it seem so easy, so straightforward and I'd listened to the kid in a man's body. But I was checked in and I couldn't turn back.

Instead I bought myself a brand new set of high quality noise cancelling earphones and a lot of chocolate for the trip. The next nervous breakdown came when I was sat in the departure lounge, and again when I was seated on the plane, and in ten minute intervals throughout the journey. Despite my sleepless night and the long flight, I didn't sleep a wink between excitement and pure fear. The guy next to me tried talking to me but I showed him about as much interest as I would a rock, and soon he gave up. For the first time in a month, since Billie left, I let myself listen to Green Day. It was bizarre, hearing Billie's voice now. It filled me with nostalgia, excitement to see him again, a sense of foreboding dread that I was going to be seeing him again after the breakup, warmth because it was him, memories of growing up on those songs and new ones of our relationship. But there was also something incredibly soothing about the familiarity of his lyrics. Something that sounded one hell of a lot like home to me.

After another gruellingly long flight I staggered off the plane at 12pm their time, fighting a severe lack of sleep and jet-lag. Wearily I made my way through customs and to baggage collection. I stumbled and didn't have the strength to get my bags off, so a nice stranger helped me haul them out and onto a trolley. I was basically falling asleep at the handlebar as I pushed it through to the exit, all emotion gone other than the desperate craving for sleep.

I couldn't even be bothered to push my way through the crowds and so hung back lazily and dragged my feet as I made my way to call for a taxi outside, until something made me jump. I was swept sideways of my feet, making me yelp until I recognised the strong arms and stocky build.
"Tré!" I squealed, my arms wrapping around his neck as I buried my head in his chest. "Oh my god it's so good to see you! I missed you so much," I blubbered, delirious with sleep and fighting the tears.
"I missed you too," he grinned. I vaguely registered that his blue hair was now a bright turquoise. Tré insisted on leading me through the airport, taking my trolley off me and loading it into his car.
"Where's Jimmy? Is she still pissed?"
"Jimmy doesn't know. She's kinda sick right now and I thought this would be a nice surprise," by this point I was lounging in his front seat, soaking up the bright California sun and one of my best friends beside me, my head leaned all the way back and eyes closed in peace.
"Well take me to her then, I need to see my best friend and sleep," I mumbled just loud enough for Tré to hear me, and I heard his chuckle in response. Everything that had been balled up in my chest suddenly released, I didn't care if Billie, Jimmy or anyone else didn't want to see me again. I just loved Oakland and it was here that I was calm, and now I realised that I had outgrown England, and this was my home now.

"Not so fast, we're on a mission against time, remember?"
"Huh?"
"Billie," Tré prompted, as if I could have forgotten.
"Let me sleep first," I whined, but Tré poked me sharply and repeatedly in the arm.
"No!" I batted him off and soon we were both giggling.
"Yes! I'm tired!"
"And I went through hell getting that ticket. We're not wasting this day!"
"I hate you,"
"Hate you too!" He sang.

The rest of the short journey was great fun, even if the destination wouldn't be. Tré had the radio on and we were singing full blast, making stupid voices and screaming random lines. But before long Tré had pulled up at the place I had called home for the last few months. It looked the same from the outside, except all of the curtains were drawn and no lights were on. Tré led me up to the front door.
"Maybe wait here a second," he smiled sheepishly and shoulder-barged his way in, the door complained in a way that said it wasn't the first time people had entered like that. He paused to listen for a second before gesturing to follow. We crept around the house, Tré trying to make me laugh despite the fact that we were sneaking around. Eventually we came to a halt outside Billie's room, and my chest ached with the memories. Tré gestured for me to stand back again and knocked tentatively.
"Billie?" There was no answer. "Billie?" He repeated a little firmer. He began to knock in a repeated rhythm, calling Billie's name as if they were lyrics.
"Fuck off, Tré!" Billie's voice was dead.
"Nope!" The other side went quiet. Tré whispered to me, "He's still alive then," but there was something in his tone that said he wasn't joking.

Suddenly, Tré backed up and once again rammed at the door. The stubborn little shit didn't take much longer and soon he went crashing into it, sending the door almost off its hinges. Tré barged in but I hung back a second. The room was dim and it took me a second to adjust, but once I had I could see Billie's figure. He was laid on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't even flinch or look up when Tré waltzed in.
"Get out," he said in a monotone voice and I felt my chest shatter. He was there again, right in front of me and I didn't care how broken he looked he was still breathtakingly handsome and I wanted to die.
"Someone's here,"
"Tell Mike to go away as well,"
"It's not Mike,"
"I don't want to see anyone," Billie almost snapped.

"Fine," Tré sang, nothing could piss this guy off, but he signalled me in.
Billie must have heard me walk in because he told 'Mike' to fuck off. He looked different, but still the same beautiful guy I fell in love with. He was thinner, his t-shirt was hanging off him and his bare legs were definitely thinner, his face had narrowed and lost definition. He had dark circles around his eyes which were dull and staring like a dead man's. His hair was longer, clearly he hadn't bothered to cut it and the natural auburn tones were showing through. The room was musky, bedsheets not made, mess everywhere and it smelt overwhelmingly like him, indicating he'd not left in a while.

"It's not Mike," I said softly, as if I was approaching a skittish deer.

I wasn't sure how I was expecting Billie to react, but it wasn't that. He didn't even cast his eyes over to me, but instead screwed them shut and his face crumpled as if he was in pain.
"Go away," he hissed, seemingly at the ceiling.
"I'm sorry?" Billie moaned and rolled over, holding his head.
"Make it stop," he almost begged "Please, I'm sorry, just please make them stop," he was nearly crying into his pillow, and seeing him like this was almost breaking me.
"Billie," I breathed, unsure whether or not to come closer.
"Make it stop. Make her go away," he whined again.
"I can leave if you really want me to," I ventured, really unsure of myself all of a sudden. I would have rather had him screaming and shouting in a fit of rage than this.
"I need to wake up," he said, and that made me pause.

I crept over to Tré, who was of no help, but as I listened to Billie's repeated moaning I was beginning to realise that he wasn't talking to me.
"Tré, does Billie hallucinate?"
"Dunno,"
"Helpful," I smacked his shoulder lightly, before once again approaching Billie.

"Billie," the second I said his name he writhed and curled into himself, moaning in agony. "Billie I need you to look at me,"
"Get out of my head!" He spat, so I reached out and gently pulled the covers off of him.
"I'm not in your head. It's me and I'm here, for good if you want me. I promise,"
He rolled over and his eyes finally found mine, pausing for a second as confusion crossed his exhausted features. Suddenly I felt terrible for everything I had thought of him, poor Billie was in a fad worse state than me.
He was reaching out to me, like a little kid and so I gently guided his palm to my cheek, cradling his hand in mine and leaning into his touch.
"Oh my god," he whispered, and I felt the electricity pulsing through me once again. It was like I could finally breathe clearly.
"You, you're here?"
"Yes,"

Billie hauled himself up and pulled me into him, his arms clinging onto me as if I was his oxygen, his face was buried in my neck and I could feel wetness from his eyes, but I ignored it, instead running my hands down his back, through his hair and along his neck, feeling like a blind man who'd finally gained their sight. After an age Billie pulled away, a sudden look of fury on his face,
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I wanted to come home,"
"I made you stay at home. It's so much better for you over there, y'know, with family and Edmund and everything, I'm no good,"
"I outgrew England a long time ago, Billie. It just took you to make me realise that this is home for me now. That is, if you still want me," I tailed off.

Billie's hands were resting on my hips, and as I spoke the words I felt him retreat a little bit, sending an instant bolt of ice cold panic through me. As if Billie could read my thoughts, he grabbed my face and kissed me as if he thought I would die, immediately my hands clasped around his neck, returning the favour. The kiss was long and soft and sweet, it told a thousand heartbreaks, but it also told of hope, that Billie and I could get better. He softly pulled away, resting our foreheads together for a second.

There was a loud thud that made us both jump, and I turned around to see Tré throwing the last of my bags down by the door.
"My work here is done, see ya tomorrow, fuckers!" And with a cackle he bounded off down the stairs and out of sight. I collapsed weakly into Billie, giggles barely making their way out.

We were quiet for a second, until Billie's fingers were under my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"Are you sure this is what you want," he asked, nervousness radiating off him. One look into his honest eyes grounded me and I answered him without hesitation.
"Yes, Billie. I love you, you doofus. Also everything I own is now officially here. And no more visits to England, they invented the telephone for a reason,"
"I love you," he blurted before kissing me again.

I let my hands wonder until they were at the hem of his shirt, and pulled it quickly over his head. I followed suit, quickly ripping my shirt off and shrugging his on, before kicking my jeans off so I was just in his shirt, and Billie in boxers. He looked mildly confused as I took his hand and led him into bed.
"I've not slept in hours, and you don't look any better," I told him matter-of-factly.
"But,"
"There's plenty of time later, right now we just need to sleep," I murmured, already burrowing into his chest as he spoke and melting into his arms.

"I've been wearing that shirt all week," Billie mumbled into my hair. Normally that would have grossed me out, but I was suffering from major withdrawal.
"Good. Smells like you," I planted a kiss on his neck where my head was buried.
"Jesus Christ I've missed you so much," he whispered into my hair. "I felt like I was dying without you," as he spoke it was like my heart broke again and again and again. If I'd have known that I would have hurt him that much I would never have stayed there.
"I'm never going anywhere again," I managed as I drifted off to sleep, holding onto each other as if we would die tomorrow. I was certain that it was the best night (and day) of sleep that either of us had ever had.