Making the Album

Jay's room was deathly silent. Mike was slumped over at an odd angle in his chair, fast asleep. Jay was regarding them drowsily from his bed with a little half smile on his lips.

"What's going on, guys?" He slurred, groggy.
"Tom fainted." Tre said with a grin.

Tom gave him a filthy look.

"I did not. I just...I just smoked too much."
"Whatever you say." Tony replied.

They were dong a great job, Robert thought. They were doing a great job pretending everything was fine. Pretending that Barry wasn't dying or that Tom's father had gone psycho. Pretending that Jay hadn't nearly died himself on that stage.

Mike jumped and blinked, rubbing his eyes, yawning a hello.

"You look like you need some coffee." Tony said with a smile.
"God, do I ever." Mike yawned.
"Well, go get it." Blondie told him, leaning against the wall and twirling his one surviving drumstick.

"I-I would...but it's just..." Mike looked at Jay and squeezed his hand.

Tom felt a stab of guilt twist his stomach.

"I'll get it."
"You don't have-"
"I said I'll get it!"

With that, the bassist turned and stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving the little group gawking after him.

---

"Billie," Tony whispered. "We've gotta tell them about Barry."
"But-"
"How would Jay feel if Barry died and he didn't know about it? How would you feel if no one had told you about Adrienne's death?"

Billie's face went white at the mention of Adrienne, but he bit his lip and nodded.

"We'll tell him. As soon as Tom gets back, we'll tell him."

---

"What do you mean, out on bail?!"

Mike was literally trembling, the veins in his neck bulging in a way that made Tre take a step back. The policeman looked terrified.

"He had the money...legally, we couldn't-"
"Fuck that legal bullshit! You'd better get that bastard behind bars before he kills someone else!"

The policeman suddenly remembered that his headlights were on and excused himself. Mike sank down into a chair. Tre cursed and patted his shoulder.

"It'll be alright, Mike. I mean, there's an entire fucking mosh pit that saw what happened..."
"Tre, don't you understand? He's out there, roaming the streets. He could walk in here and finish us off...finish Jay off..."

Mike choked on a sob and buried his face in his hands. Tre patted his friend on the back, whispering words of comfort. And as soon as Mike regained control of himself, Tre took off to find Blondie.

---

"Blondie, you doing anything tonight?"

Blondie raised an eyebrow at Tre. It was an odd question to ask, considering the situation.

"Just hanging out here, I guess." Blondie replied slowly. "Why, you got somewhere to go?"
"Not anything definate. Just sort of a rough idea..."

---

Tre was smoking a cigarette, which was how Blondie knew he was nervous. In all the time he'd known him, Blondie had never seen Tre smoke. Blondie was nervous too, and it showed. The ski mask itched to smooth skin of his face and he was far too hot and he kept checking his watch. But Tre was unnaturally calm, or at least he appeared so.

"This is it, then." Tre looked around, watching as headlights appeared at the end of the street.
"Tre..." Blondie said softly, pleading.
"It's too late, Blondie. We've gotta do this." Tre paused, scuffed his shoe against the pavement, then looked at the drummer. His eyes were serious, too serious.

"We've gotta do this for Barry."

Tom's father parked the car, unaware of the two shadows that watched him from the alleyway. He didn't see them, until the yanked him into the darkness of the alley.

The beating was fast and violent. Blondie didn't think he'd ever get that moment out of his head. He would never forget that first punch, the quick little intake of breath, the sickening sound of flesh against flesh. The following seconds were all panting and punching and kicking and gasping pleas that fell upon deaf ears.

And then the man collasped to the ground. He rolled over and looked up at them, barely concious.

"W-why?" He gasped out.
"For all your sins." Tre replied, then kicked the man swiftly in the chest.

Tom's father gave a shuddering sigh and his eyes closed. He was bleeding quite badly, and it looked as if his arm was broken. Tre cursed, folded the mask up over his lips and lit a cigarette.

Then he doubled over and threw up.

---

The car ride home was silent. Blondie didn't know what to say; he felt vaguely sick, but, unlike Tre, Blondie hadn't eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours. He wanted to throw up, but he couldn't.

"Do...do you think anyone'll know it was us?" Blondie asked.

Tre gave him a tired smile.

"Blondie, this is the good thing about having fans like ours...anyone of them would have beaten the shit out of that guy to help us out. Police will assume that's what happened."

Blondie sighed.

"The dark side of fame."
"Got that right. Sometimes...I watch myself in interveiws because I don't want to fuck up someone else's career. If I make a joke about hating Crossfade, for instance, then a shitload of teenies will stop buying their album. It's insane."
"Tre...I don't wanna be that famous."

Tre smiled wearily.

"Blondie, I think you already are."

---

Billie and Tony had vanished, off to find the doctor. Tre and Blondie had also gone somewhere, and hadn't returned yet. Tom had never returned from the cafeteria. Rabbit was making phone calls to the label, to the press, to basically everyone.

It was just Mike who lingered at Jay's bedside that night, and it was only Mike who was there when the nurse came in the next morning.

She was carrying a bag of blood and began hooking it up. As she extracted a needle, Jay gave her a nervous look.

"Shouldn't you be wearing gloves or something?"
"Why? This is just a routine transfusion." The nurse raised her eyebrow. Mike squeezed Jay's hand, seeing his pain.
"Well...I'm HIV positive...it should be on those sheets..." Jay sounded somewhere between humiliated and confused.

The nurse looked at him, and set down the needle. She handed him his record.

"I don't know what sort of idiots you think we are. You were tested for all that when you came in. Sir, you are most certainly not HIV positive."

Jay's jaw dropped.

"Are you sure? The last time I was in the hospital-"
"Your transcript says you're perfectly normal, if something of an alcoholic. Now, can I give you that transfusion now?"
"Sure..." Jay whispered. "Sure."

A quick prick, a little fiddling, and then she was gone. Jay looked over at Mike, his eyes wide.

"Mike...I don't have to worry anymore...God, I'll never have to worry about killing you if we don't use a condom. Oh my god...this is a fucking miracle."

Mike smiled and lay down beside him on the hospital bed.

"Baby, whether or not you had HIV never worried me. I never worry about anything when I'm with you."

And then Mike kissed him and for the first time since the concert, Jay smiled.