Okay, this is the first time I've posted here, so I'm going to start with something a little more on the safe side. No slash here, I'm still warming up. I don't care if it doesn't make sense or it isn't plausible, the way I see it, I'm the author, this is fiction, I can do what I want. Oh, and it might just be horribly formatted, because I've never used this, so just try and see through it if it is. Rest assured, I'll get the hang of it. So, here it is! Warning: You might need Kleenex.

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Mike watched Chester from across the room. He was sitting on a couch, looking down and rubbing his fingers as though he’d never seen anything like them. “God, what he must be thinking right now,” Mike thought. He could see the pain and fear etched on his friends face and he just wanted to cry for him. “How can he do this? I couldn’t handle it,” he thought, watching and waiting.

He and Chester and the rest of the band were waiting in a small conference room in an L.A. hotel. They were to give a press conference in the main ballroom in just a few minutes. Chester was going to be doing the talking, but they all insisted on being there to support him.

Mike watched their manager slowly approach Chester and softly place his hand on his shoulder. Chester looked up at him calmly with those sad eyes, but didn’t say a word. “Are you ready for this?” Jeff said softly, but Mike could still hear it from across the room. He probably could have heard a pin drop, too.

Chester shrugged to Jeff and shifted his gaze toward Mike. “I don’t think so,” he said. “But I have to.” Mike wondered if Chester could hear his heart drop.

Chester, with a burst of confidence, suddenly stood up and started toward the door to the ball room. The others roused and went to follow, silently, solemnly.

They all stepped into the room, one at a time, with Chester leading the line. The room full of journalists fell quiet. The click of tape recorders and video cameras starting was heard as the band took their seats behind a long conference table.

Once they were seated Jeff leaned into the microphone sitting before him and announced the day’s business. “I’m Jeff Blue, representing Linkin Park. We’re here today to clear up what’s been going on with Linkin Park in the past month.” He stopped and sighed before continuing, “As you know, we’ve had to cancel a lot of shows and we’ve been pretty secretive about the reason, so we’re here today to let the public know what has happened. It has been reported that Chester Bennington was sick again, and that has some truth to it. So, um... At this time, I’ll just go ahead and let Chester tell you what is going on, and, if you will, please hold your questions until he’s finished his statement.”

Mike was shocked at Jeff’s lack of eloquence. “He’s usually so cool at these things, and he seemed so shaken and searching for words today,” he thought. Again, Mike was watching Chester, as was everyone else in the room.

Chester looked like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide and staring out at the journalists in the room. He had yet to speak. After a few minutes, Chester looked to his friends and band-mates for support. Mike watched him make eye contact with each of them and then was surprised when Chester’s eyes met his. He panicked for a second, not sure what to do, while Chester waited for his reaction. Mike’s instinct kicked in, finally, and he gave Chester a reassuring smile. Chester paused on Mike’s smile for a second, seemingly tempted to give his own, before nodding and leaning into the microphone.

He cleared his throat and began, “About a month ago, I started having these really awful pains in my abdomen and back and I started throwing up and stuff. That wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced something like that, so I tried to let it pass. It lasted three days, until it finally just got too bad. I woke up that third day feeling a little better, but I could barely move by that afternoon, and I couldn’t breathe by that evening. So, my wife called an ambulance for me and I passed out. When I woke up, I was told that my appendix had burst and that they had already operated to remove the infection,” Chester said, pausing to catch his breath. He chewed his lip for a second, gazing at the reporters, who were obviously puzzled, before he continued. “A couple of days later they told me that it was odd that my infection had spread as quickly as it did, so they ran some blood tests. Well, they found out that I have a disease that weakens my immune system, which is why I’m always sick. It has gone undiagnosed for years,” he said, his voice starting to waiver. “They found AIDS,” he said, softly, tears starting to form in his eyes.

The whole room seemed to withdraw with a gasp. Chester turned to his band-mates, but he didn’t find their eyes this time. Mike was looking down, tugging at a loose thread on his glove. He sighed and turned back to his microphone, “I guess I’ll take a few questions, now.”

The crowd hesitated before Kurt Loder from MTV news jumped from his seat and raised his hand. Chester’s attention turned to him and he said, “Kurt?” before anyone else even attempted to stand up.

“Chester, I’m sorry, first off. I don’t want to be disrespectful, but it is important to know, how you contracted the virus? Do you know that yet?”

“Thank you, Kurt. I do want to make it clear how I got it, because, well, it was beyond my control. I was confused when they diagnosed it, because I haven’t slept with anyone but my wife since I met her, and I haven’t used a needle for anything but a flu shot or a blood test since I was 19. The first thought I had - I hate to admit it, but it was the only thing that made any sense - was that maybe Samantha had cheated on me and gave me the virus, but she doesn’t have it,” Chester said, calmly, obviously trying hard to suppress his emotions.

“The doctors said that the virus has been known to not show symptoms or even be recognizable until years after it is contracted. So, we started an investigation into everyone I’d ever had risky contact with, which only amounted to about seven people, mostly because I had shared a needle with them. Well, we found one of those seven people included in the investigation with AIDS.”

He paused again, knowing that he was going to have a hard time with this next statement. He looked to his right again, searching for strength from his friends. This time he found Mike, quietly cheering him on. Mike was amazed at how well Chester was handling this, and was proud to call this incredibly strong man his best friend. “I apparently contracted the disease when I was about 9,” he said, sadly. “I was molested and raped by a family friend for five years. Somewhere between the ages of 8 and 13, he gave me HIV.”

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Okay, so this is a sad-bastard fic. I haven't written in a while, so some r&r would be appreciated. Please, push the button on the way out. Thank you, come again.