Best Friends Forever

Summary: Brad Delson had come to accept and tolerate a lot of things from Mike Shinoda over the years. He was fine with Mike playing for both teams. He was fine with the fact that everything Mike did, he excelled at. Hell, he had even learned to accept that Mike was almost as good as him on the guitar. But what he couldn’t accept was his handsome, intelligent, talented best friend letting some steroid driven closet case use him as a human piñata.

Author’s Notes: Honestly, I don’t know what the point of this story is. It came to me one day while I was supposed to be catching up on back paperwork at the job and wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it… three years later. It’s a throwback to the high school days of our favorite guitarist and emcee. With cameo appearances from Rob and future mentions of a future lead singer. Warning: This story contains excessive snarkiness, Brad and Mike's potty mouths, domestic violence, plots of building underage harems and Brad’s general awesomeness. Hope someone out there enjoys. I am working on a follow up to this if anyone is interested. Ok. Enough out of me. Enjoy!

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Brad Delson was not in a good mood. It wasn’t hard to tell. One had only to look in his general direction and feel the bad mood surrounding the normally pleasant sixteen year old guitarist. And of course as he was in a bad mood, the majority of the school felt it was their duty to discover the source of his attitude. This was naturally met with further attitude. There was only one face that he needed to see and for some reason that face was determined to avoid him. He had tried unsuccessfully to run into his so called best friend at least three times that day. All three times found said best friend turning on his heels and all but sprinting the other way. Just as Brad was contemplating giving up and figuring out what was with his friend another day, he felt someone plop down beside him on the front steps of the school.

“You look like you’re in a shitty mood.”

A rare (for that day anyway) smile twisted his lips as he cocked his head to the side regarding Scott Foreman, also known as the lead singer and bassist of the latest band he was involved with. Out of all the projects he had tried working with it was Scott that he felt slightly more comfortable than usual. It was because of that comfort level that he had managed to last with this band for a whole three months. Scott had become much more than a band mate, he was his friend. He had also managed to become Mike’s friend (which Brad swore was not the only reason why he still liked the guy). Scott was also the only other person besides Mike that he could tolerate at the moment. The senior stretched and leaned back against the steps so that he was resting on his elbows.

“Your mood suggests that you’ve seen it then.”

Brad quirked an eyebrow upwards before turning to fully face the singer. “Seen what?”

Scott looked genuinely confused at that. “I figured that you were in such a bad mood because of Mike.”

“No, Mike is avoiding me so I don’t know what’s going on with Mike.” He paused. “What is going on with Mike?”

Scott chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “He’s going to fucking kill me, dude.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you if you don’t tell me already. So what happened? Does this have anything to do with why he’s been avoiding me all day?”

“More than likely,” the older teen sighed heavily. “We were all changing for gym class and you know how he is.”

“He swears the whole locker room is out to catch him half naked.” Brad didn’t feel the need to add that most of them were.

“Well, yeah, so you know how he hides behind the lockers but usually he lets one of us back there. Today he totally flipped out when I said that I was going to change there. He practically shoved me out of our spot. So me being me, I went back anyway to see what was going on with him and that’s when I saw the huge ass bruise on his side.”

He didn’t think it was possible but his mood darkened even further than it was already. “On his side?”

“Yeah,” Scott shook his head. “Looks like he got hit with something there. Trust me I’ve been in enough fights with my brother to know what those kinds of bruises look like. That jerk used to throw his skateboard at me when he was pissed off.”

Brad narrowed his eyes as he put this information along with everything else he knew. Mike was avoiding them. Mike was being skittish. Mike hadn’t been home the previous night and his brother was giving lame excuses as to where he was. “Son of a bitch,” he swore under his breath, rising to his feet at the same time.

“I thought you said that shit was over.”

“I thought it was,” Brad growled. “Thanks. I’ll see you after school at your place.” He didn’t stick around to hear Scott’s reply. There was one thing he had to do and that was murder one Mike Shinoda. Keeping Scott’s information in mind, Brad headed to the one place he was loathe to go but knew that without a doubt he would find his best friend. And then, there he was.

The best thing about Mike was that he fit in everywhere. He was the kind of person that got along with all the cliques in their high school and so it wasn’t a surprise to see him sitting at the table where the jocks normally sat. What was a surprise was the proximity between him and the quarterback, Cooper Nelson. This came as a surprise since a certain person had sworn to his BFF that everything between him and the very much closeted Cooper was over.

Brad had come to accept and tolerate a lot of things from Mike over the almost four years they had been best friends. He was totally fine with Mike playing for both teams. He was fine with the fact that pretty much everything Mike did, he excelled at. Hell, he had even learned to accept that Mike was almost as good as him on the guitar. But what he wouldn’t accept was his handsome, intelligent, talented best friend letting some steroid driven closet case use him as a human piñata, all the while denying that they were in fact a couple and had been for almost six months.

With a ‘don’t fucking talk to me’ aura surrounding him, Brad stalked across the suddenly less crowded cafeteria until he was towering over the jocks’ table, glaring daggers at his best friend. Mike’s eyes widened as he glanced up at Brad.

“Brad, what…”

His friend never gave him a chance to finish that sentence. He instead grabbed him by the arm and without a word of explanation dragged him away from Cooper and the rest of the team. Mike didn’t bother to complain knowing that it would only fall on deaf ears anyway. Instead he allowed Brad to drag him out of the cafeteria and out to a secluded part of their school’s campus. Once outside Brad released his friend giving him a warning look that put any thoughts of running away out of his mind.

“So Scott saw, huh?” Mike asked, breaking the silence that had settled on the two friends. Brad met his gaze and Mike saw the emotions swirling around. There was anger, concern, guilt, and fear… all things he hated seeing on his best friend. “Look it’s not a big deal.”

“Let me see.”

“Brad, I said it’s not a big deal.”

“And I said let me see!” Brad repeated, his voice was calm but it was glaringly obvious that he was anything but. Mike muttered a curse before lifting the hem of his shirt up. Brad winced at the ugly bruise that had formed on Mike’s side. It was only beginning to turn purple so it was definitely still new. Probably as new as that morning. “Why the hell do you let him do this?”

“It was an accident.”

“Right, and that time that you accidentally almost broke your rib or when you got that concussion from when you accidentally slammed your head against the wall? Those were accidents too, right?” Brad snorted, shaking his head. “They have a name for what this is, you know?”

“I know and it’s not that,” Mike retorted, folding his arms over his chest. “Coop, he, sometimes he just loses his temper and I happen to get in the way.” He sighed and sank to the ground, not even putting up the effort of pretending that he believed that.

Brad kneeled in front of his best friend and lifted his head so that their eyes met. “Mike, I will never understand how someone as smart as you can be so fucking stupid. You deserve so much better.”

”Maybe,” Mike conceded. “But sadly, you’re just not gay enough for me.”

Brad cracked a smile. Still, he paused in thought and looking at Mike seriously. “I could be, if you wanted me to.”

Mike’s smirk grew into a genuinely soft smile. “You really are something, Delson.” He laughed softly and shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. You’re so not my type.”

“Ass.”

“Bitch.” Mike cocked his head to the side as Brad settled down on the ground beside him, their shoulders brushing against one another. “So you’ve been in a mood all day. What’s up?”

“Oh, so now it’s about me?”

“Well you did drag me all the way out here to talk. And we did. So now I want to know what’s going on with you.”

Brad sighed. On one hand, he wanted to talk to Mike and get his feelings off his chest. But on the other, he knew that this was just a cheap ploy on behalf of his friend to get them away from the problem at hand. He craned his neck to the side to see Mike eyeing him warily. Being together as long as they had been gave them the uncanny ability to read each other well. Like right now, Brad knew that Mike was well aware that Brad wasn’t an idiot. His pathetic diversionary tactic was transparent but one that he apparently needed at the moment. So going against every common sense instinct in his body, Brad forced a smile onto his face and went with the subject change.

“It’s the band. I just don’t think it’s working out.”

Mike let out a sigh of relief before raising an eyebrow. “Again? But you and Scott get along great.”

“Scott’s not the problem.”

“Then what….” Mike trailed off with recognition growing in his eyes. “Not this again! Come on, Brad. It’s been like a month. You really mean to tell me that you’re still not over this?”

“He’s fourteen! He’s barely in high school!” Brad protested. “We got some kid that’s literally right out of junior high and you’re expecting me to just be okay with this?”

“Yes,” Mike laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Dude, it’s not the end of the world that he’s young. I mean he’s only like what two years younger than us. Barely that with you.”

“But still!” Brad whined, even going as far as to pout. Mike shook his head before he burst out laughing. Brad was secretly proud of himself. No matter what he was always able to make his best friend smile. And that was something he would always be happy about. Even if said best friend was laughing at his expense. “Mike!”

“Okay, okay, look, obviously the rest of the band thinks he’s talented enough to be there. What is your deal with him? Is he any good?”

“I guess.”

“You guess? You’re in a band with him. You’ve been practicing with him like every day for the past month, why don’t you know?”

“Shut up.”

Mike grinned and nodded. “Right, so he’s good. I don’t get what the big deal is then. If he’s good then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know, okay? I just know that I don’t want Kid Drummer in the band.” Mike snorted again, shaking his head. The smile on Brad’s lips died as he knew that he had to bring it up again. He could see Mike subtly wincing every time he shifted wrong. It was hanging there between them. This would only continue if Brad didn’t say something concrete enough to make Mike realize that this was wrong. “You know, you would know if he was any good if you were still coming to practice with me.”

And there it was, precisely the wrong thing to say as Mike stiffened and moved away from him slightly. Brad started to reach for him but stopped knowing how much the other teen hated to be touched when he was like this. .

“Things are complicated,” Mike replied, after a long stretch of silence.

“Un-complicate them for me then,” Brad said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re good at that. Dumb it down for me. Why did you tell me that it was over between you and Coop when it so very obviously isn’t? And I mean that in more ways than you’re still dating.”

Mike sighed. “Look, I didn’t lie. It was over for awhile. But lately, we, he said that he wanted to try it again. And that this time he wasn’t going to lie and say we weren’t together.”

“Right, I’m sure he came out to his little football buddies right then and there.”

“He’s working on it.”

Brad swallowed the urge to hit his friend knowing all too well that’s what got them in this situation in the first place. Instead he ignored the imaginary boundary that Mike had placed around himself and put his hand on his friend’s back. He ignored the flinch and waited until his friend had relaxed under his touch. He then leaned forward so that they were face to face once again.

“Mike, you’re an idiot!”

Wait, that wasn’t how he wanted to start this. Although the wide eyes and incredulous expression on his friend’s face almost made it worth it. “That’s not what I meant. Well, technically it is, but that’s not how. Wait…. Do over.” He paused. “Mike, you’re smart. So I don’t get how you can’t see how this is wrong. How could this possibly be what you want? Whoever is with you should be proud of that! They should be happy that you love them. Instead Cooper….”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Mike hissed, jerking away from him. His eyes were dark and unreadable, a far cry from their usual expressiveness. “Look, Brad, I said things are complicated, okay? I don’t bother you about your love life, so butt out of mine.”

“Fine,” Brad finished, stonily. He shook his head. “So you want to come with me to band practice tonight?”

“I can’t.”

Brad scoffed disbelief evident in his tone. “You’re going to meet up with him again, aren’t you? Even after he did this to you like this morning, you’re still going to go back to him. Unbelievable!”

“Fuck off, Brad!”

“You know what? You fuck off, Mike! I’m sick of this shit. I’m sick of you being treated like garbage and watching you not give a damn.”

“Then don’t bother anymore,” Mike snapped. “If it’s such an inconvenience to you, don’t fucking bother.”

“I won’t,” Brad retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t bother calling looking for a ride tonight because I’m not doing this shit anymore.”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re the last person I would call even if I did need a ride.”

“Perfect.”

“Great.”

It was mutually agreed upon that their conversation was over and there was nothing more that needed to be said. They stood up and headed in opposite directions. Brad’s jaw clenched tightly as he glanced over his shoulder and watched Mike walk away. He was tempted to call Mike back but he couldn’t work up the nerve. So instead he watched his friend disappear into the school building. He sighed heavily. This had done very little to improve upon his mood.

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“I thought talking to Mike was supposed to help mellow you out,” Scott said, as Brad finally made his appearance that evening. It didn’t take more than a glance to know that the bad mood from earlier was still there and stronger than ever.

“I thought so too,” Brad shrugged, flopping down on the couch.

He glanced around the room and noticed that he was the last one to arrive. James Carmichael, their second guitarist, was currently engaged in a very animated phone conversation with his girlfriend. Brad couldn’t make out the details but he was pretty sure that he didn’t want to know. Sofia Perez was a force to be reckoned with and he was not so secretly terrified of her. It was something that Mike never failed to tease him about. He closed his eyes tightly as his thoughts traveled back to the one person he didn’t want to think about.

Its like we broke up or something, Brad thought. He opened his eyes to see Scott watching him sympathetically, and also with a bit of hesitancy. Sensing that he wasn’t going to like what Scott had to say, he steeled himself and nodded his head indicating that the older teen should just get it over with.

“I need you to give Rob a lift home after practice tonight.”

Brad’s eyes widened and he swiveled in his seat to see the drummer in question obliviously working on his homework in the corner. He turned back around to stare at Scott.

“Why the hell can’t he drive himself like everyone else does?”

Scott gave him a look. “Brad, he’s fourteen. He doesn’t have a license. You barely have a license.” The older teen sighed heavily and moved closer to keep the conversation between the two of them. “Look, I know that you’re not that fond of Rob. I get it. But he’s still part of this band, a really good part. His parents are letting him do this but I have to promise that he gets a ride home. I just can’t tonight and neither can James. Trust me. He’s the first person I asked.”

Brad groaned dramatically before sighing. “Fine. Where does the brat live anyway?”

“Actually pretty close to Mike,” he said even as rattled off the address. “You know, after you’re done with Rob, maybe you could swing by and talk to him. But without losing your patience this time.”

“Why do you assume it was me that lost his patience? Mike’s not perfect.”

Scott snickered. “Don’t I know it? The guy is neurotic as hell but he’s got the patience of a saint. You on the other hand… you’re frustrated, you’re pissed and you tend to lash out at the source of your anger and frustration. This time it was Mike.”

The guitarist narrowed his eyes. “Hey, when you get that psych degree you can analyze me. Until then, keep your insightfulness to yourself.”

“Fine, as long as you give Rob a ride home,” Scott grinned. “And in one piece, please?”

“Now you’re just asking for miracles.” He glanced up and couldn’t help but smile at the bemused look on his friend’s face. Scott clapped him on the shoulder before going over to force James off the phone and Rob away from his homework.

As they practiced, Brad couldn’t help but let his mind drift. He and Mike had been friends since they were thirteen years old and he had always imagined that they would be best friends forever. But he was starting to have his doubts now. Why couldn’t Mike see that this was wrong? That the way that Cooper treated him was wrong. If he was going to be this way then maybe it was just best for Brad to call it quits and walk away from him before he totally self-destructed. But, this was Mike…. Rolling his eyes at his circuitous, maudlin thoughts, he forced himself back into the moment.

He let his eyes drift over to their drummer who was currently playing a piece he had been working on. Brad was a little impressed, although he would never actually say it out loud. The kid wasn’t bad. As a matter of fact, he was good. Far better than the drummer he had replaced, but there was just something about him that Brad couldn’t connect to. He knew it was stupid but those were the facts. He didn’t like Rob. He didn’t want to like Rob. And it wasn’t likely that he was going to like Rob anytime soon. Even if he did have to give him a ride home in less than twenty minutes. He groaned internally, this day was just shot to hell.

He glanced at the clock and found that it was almost time to be leaving. And that’s when he felt it. Years later he would still be looking for a word to describe the feeling that he had at that moment. It was intense, strange, and yet familiar at the same time. It didn’t make him feel wrong. On the contrary, he felt comfortable. Like he did when he was around…. He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of Scott’s house phone ringing. Without thought he walked over and picked it up, ignoring Scott’s protests.

“Where are you?” he asked, not really sure why he knew who was on the other end of the line. He paused for a moment listening. “I’ll be there in like ten minutes. Just hold on.” He hung up the phone and spun on his heels to leave when he realized that he had one major problem to deal with. Rob sat on the couch watching him as if he were a crazed animal. And he was pretty sure at the moment he wasn’t giving off anything resembling sane vibes.

“Um, I could just wait,” Rob offered, attempting to be helpful. Brad narrowed his eyes in thought. He could always go get Mike, drop him off at home, and then come back for the kid. But that was assuming that Mike was okay enough for him to be left alone. And if he was calling Brad even after swearing he wouldn’t, Mike was definitely not okay. He could always drop Rob off first and then go get Mike but that would mean leaving Mike all alone on the street for over half an hour. Then there was the best option, which was also the least desirable.

“Look, you can come with me alright. But you ride in the back and don’t open your mouth.” Rob’s eyes widened slightly, still he nodded his head. Brad walked up to him, making sure that the drummer could see clearly into his eyes. “And I swear if you so much as mention a thing about what you see or hear in my car, I will break your freaking arms!” he paused. “Probably not your arms since, you know, we need those, but possibly something else!”

“Way to be effectively threatening there, Brad,” Scott muttered, before walking away.

“Terrifying, really,” James added, returning to his conversation.

“For the record, I’m somewhat afraid,” Rob said, with a slight shrug. Brad huffed and motioned for Rob to follow him. Sometimes it just didn’t pay to be Brad Delson.

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It was less than ten minutes in the end, but it felt like an eternity to Brad. When he pulled the car to a stop in front of the address Mike gave him, he had come up with several, increasingly more horrific ideas of what could be happening to his poor best friend. The one he hadn’t considered was the one that was actually happening. Mike was sitting on a bench, his head slightly bowed, sketching on an ever present pad. For a second, Brad contemplated just driving off and leaving him for making him worry. But then he saw exactly what Mike’s bowed head didn’t allow him to see as he slipped into the car. The light from the sole streetlight illuminating the damage done to his best friend’s face.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Brad grabbed a hold of Mike’s chin the second he was settled in the passenger seat, frowning at the vivid black and blue bruise that covered the older teen’s eye and cheek along with the sluggishly bleeding split lip. There was a small gash on his right temple that had thankfully stopped bleeding. Brad twisted his head slightly to check for anymore damage. He couldn’t tell if Mike had another concussion but so far he wasn’t demonstrating any of the symptoms of his previous concussion (i.e. crying, pouting and in general acting as if he was all of five years old).

“Did Cooper do this?” Brad asked, barely containing a growl.

“No, Brad, I walked into a door repeatedly,” Mike retorted, pulling Brad’s hand away from his face.

The guitarist started to retort when he noticed the bruises that covered his friend’s slightly trembling hands. Hands that were still grasping Brad’s tightly, as if they were a lifeline. Brad tightened his grip on Mike’s hands, willing them, and the person to who they belonged, to stop shivering. “What happened, ‘Noda?”

Mike offered him a shaky smile and shrugged. “He went for the face this time. You know how I am about my face.” Brad gave him an encouraging smile. “He shoved me and I hit the bedside table. He hit me again. I hit back that time.” There was a slight pause. “I’m pretty sure that it’s over for good this time.”

Brad nodded, sensing the sincerity in his voice. “So you really punched him?”

“Yeah. And when that didn’t work, I knocked the hell out of him with his trophy. Let it never be said that I’m not insanely resourceful.” He let go of Brad’s hands, silently asking to put as much distance between them and Cooper as possibly.

Brad snorted and started the car. “Or just insane.”

“Yeah, well,” Mike settled back in his seat, folding his hands in his lap. “You know I’m starting to rethink that whole you’re not my type thing. Maybe you are after all. You’re definitely a lot mellower.”

“You don’t do mellow. You’re too high strung. You need someone as emotionally volatile as you are. That might be a problem.”

“Yeah,” Mike replied, slowly. He turned his head so that he was looking out the window at the passing streets. “That and the fact you’re not into guys.”

“Yeah, I could see how that could be a problem down the road.”

They exchanged a quick glance and burst out laughing. Brad could see that Mike’s hands had finally stopped shaking showing that he had calmed down at last. The familiar pattern of their bantering working to calm the adrenaline rush.

“So my place or yours?”

Mike snickered. “Definitely yours,” he pulled the mirror down and looked at his reflection with a frown. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to get this one past the parental units. I need some time to figure out how to frame this one so that they don’t go into avenge their son’s honor mode.”

“I don’t know there is something to be said about middle aged surbanites packing heat and knocking down the door of a closet case, self hating homo jock.”

The sense of relief he felt after hearing Mike laughing was immense. He couldn’t help the comment but feared that it was too soon. His fears were laid to rest as Mike started laughing so hard, he was wiping tears out of his eyes. Brad’s mouth twitched slightly as he realized this was the first time in months that he was really hearing his friend laugh. Maybe things were finally getting back to normal after all, to the way they always should have been, just him and Mike.

“Hey,” Mike said, breaking into his thoughts. He started to reply when he realized that the older teen wasn’t talking to him. Instead his eyes were locked on the rearview mirror, more appropriately on the figure trying desperately to blend into the shadows sitting in the backseat. “So you must be the kid drummer. Rob, right?” there was no answer. Mike glanced over at Brad for a second before looking back to Rob. “You can talk. It’s ok.”

“Yeah, I’m Rob,” the drummer practically whispered. At this, Mike lashed out, smacking Brad on the arm lightly.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“Don’t you what the hell me,” Mike retorted, rolling his eyes. “You know what you did.”

Brad tried to play innocent. He also tried to ignore the glare he knew was coming from the passenger seat. Finally, he gave in. “Look, Rob, um, about what I said. Yeah, you can just forget that. Ok? You can talk.” He glanced out the corner of his eye at Mike. “Happy now?”

“Yes,” Mike smirked. “So, Rob, what’s it like being in a band with Brad? You can tell the truth. Trust me, he won’t actually hurt you. He’s like all bark and no bite.”

“Hey,” Brad whined. Damn best friend shooting down all credibility he might have had in front of the kid. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see a smile flitting across the younger boy’s face. It struck Brad that he had never seen the drummer smile. It also struck him that he spent entirely too much time musing on other men’s smiles to say that he was completely heterosexual. There might be hope for him and Mike yet. Speaking of Mike…..

“That’s so cool,” Mike was saying, in response, obviously, to something that Rob had said. Brad wished he had heard it because he failed to see how anything the drummer could say would be cool. Just then Mike sat up. “Hey, this isn’t my house.”

Brad rolled his eyes. Maybe he should take him to a hospital because clearly that knock to the head had loosened something vital in his head. “No, it’s Rob’s house. I did get the right house, right?”

“Yeah,” Rob replied with a smile. “Thanks for the ride, Brad. And it was nice meeting you, Mike.”

“You too,” Mike called out as Rob got out the car. Brad was set to drive off the second the door closed but Mike put a hand on his arm halting their progress. He didn’t lift it until Rob was through the front door of his house. Brad scoffed and finally put the car into drive. “I don’t know what you’re over there scoffing about. That’s the dreaded kid drummer that you’ve been huffing and puffing about for weeks? He’s nice.”

“You would think that.”

“No, really. He’s kinda cute.”

Brad arched an eyebrow and smirked. “Now we’re going underage?”

“Ha, that’s not even remotely amusing. No, he’s not cute in an ‘I so wanna do him’ way. He’s cute like a puppy.” He paused thoughtfully. “Can we keep him?”

“You can’t have a puppy. It’s bad for your asthma. So is smoking by the way. Keep this up and you’ll never achieve your dream of banging the lead singer of a multi platinum rock band.”

“But I always wanted a puppy!”

“On a side note, I’m pretty sure that it’s illegal to keep teenage boys in your basement. And Rob strikes me as the type to have parents that actually care about that sort of thing.”

“Damn,” Mike snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “There goes my future harem plans.”

“It’s ok,” Brad assured him. “You’re pretty cute yourself and when we make it big, I’m pretty sure you will have flocks of groupies throwing themselves at you. No one will mind if you keep one or two.”

“You mean when you make it big,” Mike pointed out. “I’m not in the band.”

“Should be.”

“But I’m not. Kid Drummer is.”

“And you don’t see the world of wrong that is in there, huh?”

“Seriously, what’s your deal with him anyway?” Mike asked, finally turning to face him. Brad sighed heavily. It was a question that he had asked himself earlier that evening and he didn’t have an answer then. What made Mike think he was suddenly going to be able to come up with the reason?

“I don’t need more friends,” Brad replied, without thinking about what he was saying. Mike didn’t reply. His silence the indication that he wanted Brad to continue. And Brad continued because now that it was out there, he realized that there was something more to his mysterious hatred of the kid drummer. “I’m comfortable with you and Scott. I don’t need more people in my life. People are...”

“Scary?” Mike finished for him. “You’re scared that Rob could be a friend.”

“Why is that when you say that, it doesn’t sound so crazy?”

“Because I speak you,” Mike shrugged with one shoulder. “You’re worried about letting more people in. The more you let people in, the more they disappoint you. Or the more you worry about them as they self destruct.”

“Mike,” Brad started, warning clear in his tone.

“Dude, its fine. I get it. I’ve kind of been a mess,” was the whispered response from his passenger. “I’m really sorry. But you can’t let me and my issues stop you from making friends with other people.”

Brad shook his head as he pulled into his driveway. Leave it to Mike to sum it all up. It was true. He didn’t want another person that he felt responsible for. There was something about Rob that made him want to care and that same thing scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to need anyone. Mike already got under his skin. He glanced over at his friend and felt the corners of his mouth quirk up. He supposed there were worse things than this out there.

“Come on,” Brad nudged him on the shoulder. “We can grab some frozen peas for your face and then we can turn on Akira for the two thousandth time while I make sure you don’t have damn concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion. Sadly, I can say that I’ve had enough of those to know the difference. Also it hasn’t been anywhere close to two thousand yet,” Mike protested, getting out of the car. “It’s totally at five hundred and twenty. Oh and a half, since we fell asleep that one time.”

Brad blinked, leaning over the top of the car to stare at his best friend. “Please tell me that you just made that up. Because otherwise that leads to at least two disturbing revelations.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.”

“One, you’re scary. Two, we apparently have no lives if we’ve watched that damn movie that many times.”

“You forgot one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re an idiot. It took you how long to realize the first two things?” Mike retorted with a smirk.

“Who’s the idiot now? That one was just implied.”

“The only thing that makes you an idiot is that you’ve willingly been my best friend for so long,” Mike retorted, clearly only half way joking. Brad reached across the roof of the car, placing a hand on his friend’s arm.

“That’s what makes me a genius, actually.”

Mike closed his eyes thoughtfully, a slow smile curving his lips. When he opened his eyes, Brad could see that for the first time in a long time, Mike was truly happy. “It’s amazing how you go from an idiot to a genius in just the turn of a phrase.”

“Thus the joy of being this damn awesome! Now, onward to the fifty seventh and a half viewing of Akira because we did fall asleep that one time.”

Mike arched an eyebrow. “Now who’s the scary one?” he asked as they turned to walk up the driveway. They walked close together, shoulders occasionally bumping but neither seemed to mind. Brad glanced out the corner of his eye at his best friend. It felt natural to have Mike by his side. It wasn’t until they had really been apart that he even realized how off he felt without the other teenager.

“I’m glad you’re back, dude.”

Mike smiled softly. “Me too.”