chaos_im_system

Caged Chapter 6

Thu, 07 Aug 2008 19:14:01 GMT

Full story art here.

TITLE: Caged
AUTHOR: </a></a>nyssa, </a></a>chaos_im_system
RATING: NC/17
PAIRINGS: Bill/Gustav
SUMMARY: Gustav doesn’t smile anymore, and Bill intends to find out why
DISCLAIMER: This story is a figment of our crazed and disturbed imaginations. This didn’t happen. …this had better not have happened, or I might have to cry for DAYS. Really. No kidding.
WARNINGS: Adult content, attempted suicide, blood, bondage, drug abuse, heavy/light kink, non-con/rape, pedophilia, torture, under-age erotica, violence.
COMMENTS: Heed the warnings. No, really. Also, we prefer reviews HERE.

PREVIOUSLY: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five.

"I feel so claustrophobic here
Watch out! Now you better disappear
You can't make me stay
I'll break away"

CHAPTER SIX: ICH BRECH AUS

“Honey, do you have your sleeping bag?” The female voice drifted up the stairs as Gustav sat in the hall, struggling to shove a few last minute items into his bag.

“Yeah, mom. I’m fifteen, not five,” Gustav called back, rolling his eyes. “Only a moron would go camping without a sleeping bag.”

“Last I checked, you were a pretty big moron,” his sister said, thumping him on the head as she passed. Gustav made a finger gesture that their mother would probably not have approved of.

After shoving one last pair of socks into a tiny space in the corner of the bag, Gustav decided that no more could fit. He hefted the large backpack up onto his shoulders, then began his descent down the stairs.

Before departing, Gustav stopped in the kitchen to pick up a waffle, which his mother had just finished toasting. He crammed it quickly into his mouth.

“Thanks mom,” he said around the waffle. His mother turned around.

“That’s an awfully big bag,” she remarked. “Are you sure you want to lug that around school all day? I can drop it off at the Kaulitz’s for you, if you want me to.”

“I’ll be okay, mom. It’s not that heavy. Besides, they do have these things called lockers, which hold stuff,” Gustav said. His mother frowned and put her hands on her hips. Gustav knew that a lecture was probably forthcoming, and sighed to himself.

“Now, I know you boys are going to want to have fun while you’re out there, but make sure you stay safe, okay? The woods are big and I don’t want anything to happen to you. There are a lot of things that could happen to you if you’re not careful.” Gustav rolled his eyes again.

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I promise. Nothing is going to happen.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to go? You were so sick a few days ago,” his mother commented, frowning at her son.

“Mom, I’m fine. It was just a cold, not cancer. Now can I go?” Gustav asked impatiently.

“Well, okay, honey. I’ll see you in ten days. Be good!”

His mother gave him a quick hug, before Gustav pushed open the screen door and disappeared.

It was an unseasonably cold day, for springtime. Gustav could see his breath as he walked; he hoped it would get warmer by the afternoon, because he didn’t fancy camping outside in the cold.

Despite the cold, however, Gustav was beginning to be in a very good mood. He had finally, after about a week of pestering his parents, gotten permission to go on the camping trip. In fact, his parents had only given him permission to go the night before; he hadn’t even been able to call his friends to let them know. As far as he knew, his friends didn’t even know he was coming.

Good thing it’s just as easy to go camping with four people as it is with three, he thought, Or else it might be a problem that they don’t know I’m coming yet!

Gustav walked on in cheery silence. The memory of his mother's nagging was beginning to slip away, and the closer he got to school, the more excited he got about their trip. He had never been allowed so far from home, and for so long, without adult supervision before. Finally, the boys could have a really good time.

He was nearing the halfway point of his walk to school, an old rotten stump that jutted through the broken-up sidewalk, when a dirty yellow minibus, half a block in front of him, caught his eye. A man got out and leaned casually against the vehicle. Gustav saw that the sliding door was open.

“Excuse me,” said the man, as Gustav drew nearer. “I was wondering if you might be able to help me. You see, the sliding door on my minibus is stuck, and I was wondering if you might be willing to help me figure out what the problem was. I’ve looked and looked, and I just can’t figure it out! Perhaps a fresh set of eyes…” The man shrugged helplessly.

“Well..." Gustav began, checking his watch. He always arrived at school with time to spare, and, due to his good mood, was feeling unusually charitable that morning. "Yeah, okay," he said.

Gustav approached the minibus and bent over to get a good look at the sliding door’s track. There seemed to be nothing wrong with the door. He was just about to tell the man this when he felt a strong pair of arms shove him violently into the back of the minibus. Gustav let out a yell and lunged for the door, but the man had already slammed the door and locked it. He went to unlock it, but the locking mechanism had been removed on the inside; until the man let him out, he couldn’t go anywhere. The minibus’s tires squealed as the man hit the gas; Gustav flew backward, hitting his head violently against a coarse canvas sack full of many hard objects.

Gustav sat up, rubbing his head. He would probably have a bruise there soon. The minibus continued darting up and down roads, heading toward some unknown destination. There was a roughly constructed plywood barrier between the front seats and the back of the minibus. Gustav beat on it, attempting to catch the man’s attention, but either the man didn’t respond or Gustav couldn’t hear through the barrier. He also noticed that what had looked like curtains over the windows from the outside were actually more pieces of plywood, covered with fabric. Gustav couldn’t see anything outside of the minibus.

He didn’t know what the man wanted with him. His parents were not rich or famous; if the man was looking for a ransom, he would be disappointed. Gustav couldn’t think of any other reason kids were tossed into the back of vans driven by strange men, though.

Gustav tried to count the turns the minibus made – left, left, right, left – but soon lost track. He decided that he would wait until the minibus stopped, then attempt to escape. He dug through the contents of the back of the minibus, but found nothing that he could feasibly use as a weapon.

The coarse canvas sack he had hit his head on earlier proved to be full of books. Gustav selected a few at random and took a look. One had old-fashioned drawings of medieval torture devices; the other two were battered, worn copies of Mein Kampf and Lolita. A sick feeling of dread was beginning to wash over him. Gustav thrust the books quickly back within the bag; he didn’t want to know what other choice titles it contained.

What felt like hours later, the minibus finally stopped. The man got out of the minibus, and, after a moment, opened the sliding door part way. He grabbed Gustav roughly by the arm and dragged him out of the bus. Gustav could see that they were in the middle of the woods; the sun was high in the sky, bathing their surroundings with cold, bright light.

He twisted to look at the man holding him, trying to memorize any details he could of the man’s appearance. The man was considerably taller than Gustav (though that wasn’t saying much, as Gustav had always been shorter than average). He had dark brown hair, which was slightly in need of a trim. A small amount of stubble showed on the man’s chin. All in all, the man looked altogether unremarkable.

Suddenly, Gustav attempted to jerk his arm away from the man’s grip, but failed; the man was much stronger than he looked. His grip tightened, and Gustav could see a long purple scar running down the man’s right hand. He looked up at the man who had taken him prisoner, and was startled at the predatory look he saw in the man’s black eyes.

With his free hand, the man rummaged through a small backpack and took out a pair of handcuffs – the real kind that police use, not the play kind that can be released at the push of a button – and cuffed Gustav’s wrists together in front of him.

“Can’t have you running away, now can I?” the man asked with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Gustav didn’t dare to say anything. The man shifted his grip to Gustav’s elbow and began to drag him through the woods. “Hurry up,” he demanded. When Gustav didn’t go quickly enough for his tastes, the man drew back a hand and slapped him soundly across the face. “I said hurry up. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?” Gustav remained silent. The man slapped him again, harder, and followed with a punch to the gut. Gustav fell to the ground, doubled over in pain. “And when I ask you a question, you answer it. Got it?”

“Got it,” whispered Gustav, holding his stomach.

“Get up,” the man ordered. Gustav did so immediately, ignoring the pain in both his face and his midsection. The man seized Gustav’s elbow again and began trekking through the woods. This time, Gustav broke into a trot to keep up with his captor.

After about fifteen minutes of this, the man suddenly halted. Digging within his backpack, he extracted a smaller bag, which he put over Gustav’s head, tightening it around the neck. Gustav stiffened and panicked momentarily, but relaxed slightly when he found that he could still breathe.

“We’re about to go to my cabin. You will treat it as home from now on, because you’re never going to leave it again. You got that?” Gustav nodded mutely - not agreeing, but knowing that protest would only earn more beatings. The man punched him again anyway. “Answer me when I talk to you,” he hissed.

“I will,” Gustav said reluctantly. The man paused, then took Gustav by the shoulders and spun him roughly. Because he was unable to see, Gustav lost his balance and fell messily to the ground. He was now thoroughly disoriented.

“Get up,” the man said, kicking Gustav in the ribs. Gustav groaned, but got up. “Good boy.” The man unexpectedly patted him on the head. Gustav resisted the urge to show his outrage; he was being treated like a dog.

The man grabbed Gustav by the elbow again, and the two continued their journey. Because the man had spun him, however, Gustav had no idea which direction they were going, or in which direction the minibus was. For all he knew, they were headed right back to the vehicle.

They continued walking for another few minutes, the man humming to himself. The man’s apparent cheer infuriated Gustav, who longed to rip the stifling bag off and beat the shit out of his captor. He swallowed his rage, vowing to escape as soon as humanly possible.

Finally, the man reached a hand out to stop Gustav; Gustav, not being able to see, ran directly into the man’s hand and fell over, twisting an arm uncomfortably underneath him. The man laughed and ordered him up again. He did so immediately, cradling his sore arm.

Gustav could hear a creaking nearby; it sounded like a door. His guess was confirmed when the man shoved him roughly, causing him to trip and stumble into the far wall of what felt like a roughly constructed wooden cabin. Gustav could hear movement somewhere near him, then the door slammed loudly.

The man seized Gustav’s wrists and removed the handcuffs momentarily. Before Gustav would react, however, the man had cuffed one hand to something immobile nearby. The man then removed the bag from Gustav’s head. The immobile thing was a pipe, and they were indeed in a wooden cabin.

The man took two pieces of bread out of his bag and tossed them at Gustav.

“Eat,” he commanded. Gustav did not eat. “I said, eat,” the man repeated. Gustav looked at the man.

“I’m not hungry,” he said quietly. The man immediately grabbed Gustav and pulled him so close that Gustav could smell the man’s breath.

“When I say eat,” he said, staring intently at his captive, “you will eat. As far as you’re concerned, I’m God.”

The man picked up one of the pieces of bread, tore it into small pieces, chewed on them briefly, then shoved them into Gustav’s mouth. Gustav nearly gagged, spitting out the soggy bread. The man brought a knee up into Gustav’s gut.

“You should have considered yourself lucky even to get food,” the man said as Gustav wheezed. “Perhaps going without will allow you to appreciate it.” The man released Gustav, then picked up the remaining piece of bread and tossed it into the stone fireplace at the other end of the cabin.

“Now,” he said, “I’ve got some things to tend to. I’ll be back to finish with you later.” He strode quickly to the heavy wooden door, and opened it. Just before he left, he turned back to Gustav. “By the way, you’d be better off not making any noise. Nobody will hear you anyway, and you wouldn’t want to wear your voice out. You know how I hate not having my questions answered. Understand?”

“Understood,” muttered Gustav bitterly. The man appeared satisfied, and left the cabin. Gustav could hear the metallic clink of keys and the sound of a padlock being shoved into place. Then all was silent.

Only two more weeks until we run out of the finished chapters and move on to new material! I sure hope we can keep motivation alive. Reviews help. ;)

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 07:06:26 GMT

"If the world makes you confused
And your senses you seem to lose
And you just don't know what to do
Look around, I am here"

CHAPTER FIVE: AN DEINER SEITE

“Well, the good news is, your friend is going to be okay,” the doctor announced, smiling a practiced smile at the boys. “But he’s lucky to be alive. That amount of amphetamine in his system almost killed him. It’s a good thing you found him when you did,” she said, nodding at Tom. Tom jerked his head in some semblance of a nod, then went back to twisting the hem of his shirt anxiously.

“So when can we see him?” asked Georg, looking intently up at the doctor.

“I don’t think you can see him right now,” she said with a frown. “We still have to run some tests on him and make sure the amphetamines are out of his system. I expect you’ll be able to see him tomorrow morning. In the meantime, boys, try to get some sleep.” With that, the doctor turned on her heel and marched back to Gustav’s room.

Georg looked at Bill, who was the only one standing. Bill hadn’t spoken a single word since arriving at the hospital. It was the first time anyone could remember him being silent, voluntarily, for so long.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching around Tom and nudging Bill gently. Bill said nothing, but nodded shortly – more to acknowledge the question than to answer it.

“You look like shit,” Georg said, eyeing Bill. “I’m going to get you some coffee. You too, Tom.” Tom grunted. Georg disappeared down a hallway. The twins sat in silence for some time, until finally Tom stood up and faced his brother.

“Bill...I need you to tell me something." Bill looked at his brother mutely. “When I…found him. Gustav. He thought I was you.” Bill’s heart jumped with fear.

“Did he...say anything?” he asked hoarsely.

“He kept apologizing. Telling you...me, I mean, not to hate him.”

There was a long silence. Bill looked uncomfortable.

“Bill.” Tom moved into Bill’s line of sight and looked directly into his eyes. “Why would Gustav say something like that?”

Bill didn’t answer. Tom took a step forward, forcing himself into his brother’s personal space. Bill backed up, but Tom immediately followed. The singer could feel that his twin was angry.

“Bill, why would Gustav, in the middle of killing himself, be apologizing to you? What did he do to you?”

“He...didn’t do anything,” Bill said lamely.

“Bullshit.” Tom glared at his brother, not backing down.

“Look, we had a…fight. That’s all. Nothing happened. Will you please drop it?” Bill didn’t know why he was defending the boy that had attacked him just a few hours earlier, but he did know that recovering from a drug overdose would be the least of Gustav’s problems if Tom ever found out what had happened.

Tom narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but was denied further interrogation by Georg, who showed up clutching three enormous coffees.

“Drink,” he said, shoving a cup into Tom’s hand. “You too, Bill.” Bill took the cup gratefully and sank into a nearby chair. He knew Tom would probably find out about what happened – he always found things out, somehow – but Bill was certainly not capable of dealing with an enraged Tom at the moment.

It had been bad enough, Bill mused, that he had told Andreas. In the heat of the moment, he had needed somebody to go to, but the fewer people who knew what happened, the better. Bill didn’t know why Gustav had done it, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to forgive the other boy. What he was sure of, however, was that overcoming the events of that night would be much easier without his reactionary brother interfering.

Bill cast his eyes up toward the clock on the wall; its hands moved slowly around the clock’s face. It struck him, suddenly, that every second he spent watching that clock was a second closer he, himself, was to dying. He shivered, looking away quickly.

A gloomy hour passed in which Bill tried his best not to think about what Gustav must have been feeling only a few hours earlier. He wondered what the drummer was doing, trapped inside the cage that was his hospital room.

At that moment, doctor approached, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a different doctor than before. The doctor cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Your friend has been put on suicide watch,” he announced, looking at each boy in turn. “We are as yet unsure whether the amphetamines in his system were introduced willfully. Until Mr. Schäfer has been thoroughly evaluated by our resident psychiatrist, he will need to be watched around the clock. It’s better for his own mental health if people he knows are involved in this effort. Would you boys be willing to assist?”

Georg and Tom nodded. Bill tried to nod as well, but found himself unable to move. He swallowed and could feel a lump in his throat. Hadn’t he just been wishing he could see Gustav? The opportunity had just been handed to him on a silver platter, and here he was, unable to take advantage of it. Bill cursed his own cowardice.

He was vaguely aware of Tom, Georg, and the doctor arranging a rotating schedule, but Bill found himself still unable to move or speak. The thought of actually seeing the person who had...well, who had done things to him – it left Bill feeling oddly petrified.

Tom handed him a sheet of paper with a list of names on it. Bill’s name was first, along with a two-hour time slot scribbled next to it. When he saw his name there, the lump in his throat seemed to grow. It was as if the reality of what Gustav had done to him hadn’t sunken in until that moment. In the adrenaline-filled rush to get Gustav to the hospital, Bill had almost managed to forget the events that came before.

“I...can’t,” Bill said, standing. He could feel a pounding in his ears, caused by nerves far worse than he had ever had before any concert. He thrust the paper back into Tom’s hand, turned on his heel, and strode quickly away, leaving Tom and Georg gaping after him.

Bill sat in a hard plastic chair in the hospital’s cafeteria, clutching a lukewarm cup of coffee and trying to force his eyes to stay open. After storming away the night before, he had avoided his bandmates entirely. His bodyguard had stopped in to ensure his safety, but otherwise, he had spent the time alone.

He had also spent the time entirely in the hospital, unlike his bandmates who had disappeared for a few hours here and there to grab some sleep in the tourbus. He had spent so much time in the hospital in the last day and a half that he wondered how long it would take to wash the hospital smell off of himself.

The singer’s eyes began to droop and he nodded off momentarily. He was saved from the embarrassment of falling asleep in public, however, by the chirping of his mobile phone. Bill jerked awake and answered it.

“Hello?” he said sleepily.

“It’s Georg,” said a voice on the other end. “Gustav wants to see you.”

“But…it’s not my turn,” Bill replied.

“It was supposed to be your turn two hours ago, and a few hours before that, and also this morning and last night. Have you been avoiding Gustav?” Bill didn’t know how to respond to this, so he said nothing. “Tom told me that something happened between you two. I don’t know what it was, but you can’t just abandon Gustav right now. He needs us.”

“I know,” Bill sighed. “I just – "

“Bill. He needs us. And right now, he’s asking for you. If you don’t come up here right now, I’m going to send Tom after you. And when he asks you to come up here, he’s not going to be as polite about it as I am.” Georg sounded stern, and Bill knew he wasn’t about to back down.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming upstairs.”

“Good man. We’ll see you in a minute.”

Bill started to reply, but a click on the other end told him that the other boy had already hung up.

The singer headed out of the cafeteria and headed toward the elevator. As he waited for the slow-moving car to come, he tried to calm his nerves. It would be the first time he had seen Gustav since the...well, since their last interaction. Bill swallowed hard, wondering what kind of pathetic world it was, that he was so afraid to see one of his closest friends.

The elevator doors finally opened with a ding. Bill stepped on, pressed a button, and waited, shivering with nervous anticipation. He didn’t know what he was expecting to happen, but he knew he wasn’t particularly thrilled with the entire situation. Still, Gustav was in a bad place, and, despite what he had done to Bill, he deserved love and support.

Bill slowly pushed open the door; he nodded to Georg, who stood up from the chair and left them alone. "Hey, Gustav," he said timidly. The blond boy looked impossibly small, framed by his enormous bed. Bill could see monitors and tubes attached to him in various places.

When Gustav noticed Bill, he looked up with eyes full of shame. "Bill...I messed up. I shouldn't have - I'm so sorry...," he whispered. Any hard feelings Bill had toward the other boy were immediately shelved as the reality of the situation finally hit home. What Gustav had done to him was terrible, but Gustav had almost died, and getting him through this was more important to Bill at that moment.

"Gustav... promise me you'll never scare me like that again," the younger boy said shakily, approaching the bed. "I keep feeling like this is all my fault..."

"No, Bill. It's not," the blonde stated firmly.

Bill glanced into the older boy’s eyes and noticed, with a twinge of sorrow, that the other boy’s eyes had the dullness of a defeated soul.

"I'm the one that left you alone, after…," he trailed off.

"With good reason," Gustav stated plainly, a cold tone cast over his voice.

"But I should have known something was really wrong."

"Bill, that's the last thing I ever wanted you to know. I'll understand if you just want to forget about me, because frankly, I don't really think I would want to bother you with my problems. It's old news."

"Not so old that it doesn't affect you... or me, Gustav. I want you to trust me, and I want to be able to trust you again. I know that what...what happened in the bus, that wasn't you, okay? Just... just forget you did it, alright?" Bill hadn’t realized that he had already forgiven the other boy until the words slipped out of his mouth. Now that he was in the room, finally faced with his poor crushed friend, he realized that he meant what he had just said.

“I can’t forget,” Gustav whispered. “I can’t forget any of it. Not what I did to you, and not what happened to me.” He pulled at a loose thread on the meager hospital blanket.

“I know you don’t want to talk about whatever it was that happened to you. At least not now,” said Bill, sitting on the edge of the bed. Gustav said nothing.

“I just wanted to let you know that when or if you ever decide you need to talk about it, I’ll be here for you, okay? It might be good to let it out, when you’re ready. I won’t ask you about it anymore. Just remember that the offer is always there.”

Gustav looked up at Bill. A bruise, high up on his friend’s cheek, almost buried within the hairline, caught his eye. Gustav felt a stab of guilt within him - he had probably caused that bruise.

Suddenly, a vision of Bill lying underneath him, tears in his frightened eyes, floated in front of him. It felt as though his heart was being ripped to shreds; he didn’t deserve such wonderful, loving friends. Tom, who had found him on the edge of death and saved him, despite being angry with him; Bill, who still came to him even after being assaulted, and who forgave him so easily; Georg, who had fallen asleep by his side while waiting for news from the doctors, and who was always there just to listen.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he couldn’t stop them from spilling over. Bill immediately wrapped his arms around Gustav; the embrace only made the tears fall harder. All of them cared so deeply for him, and Gustav felt a pang of regret that he had not been able to return the affection. Inside him, his soul was clawing to be released, so that he could be human again. Maybe Bill was right, maybe it would be good to let it out.

He took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Do you remember the time, a few years ago, when the three of you went camping over spring break, and I didn’t come?”

We've almost reached the end of our already-completed chapters! Ohnoes! If you don't want the publication schedule to get interrupted, you should leave lots of nice reviews so we'll be motivated to write more chapters so we don't fall behind. ;)

Caged Chapter 4 - Spring Nicht

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 00:18:04 GMT

TITLE: Caged
AUTHOR: </a></a>nyssa, </a></a>chaos_im_system
RATING: NC/17
PAIRINGS: Bill/Gustav
SUMMARY: Gustav doesn’t smile anymore, and Bill intends to find out why
DISCLAIMER: This story is a figment of our crazed and disturbed imaginations. This didn’t happen. …this had better not have happened, or I might have to cry for DAYS. Really. No kidding.
WARNINGS: Adult content, attempted suicide, blood, bondage, drug abuse, heavy/light kink, non-con/rape, pedophilia, torture, under-age erotica, violence.
COMMENTS: Heed the warnings. No, really. Also, we prefer reviews HERE.

PREVIOUSLY: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three.

"Somewhere out there
You lost yourself in your pain
You dream of the end
To start all over again"

CHAPTER FOUR: SPRING NICHT

Inside the bus, Gustav sat crouched next to the bed where he had just attacked his dearest friend. He was only vaguely aware of hearing the bus door slam as Bill departed, then all was silent. As the surreal feeling of the moment wore off, Gustav suddenly shook his head and came to his senses.

"No... no...no... Bill... shit... no..." he whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut, harder and harder, to try and make the memory disappear.

Bill was the only thing he really had to rely on, and he was sure he had ruined - devastated - their relationship in those few crazed moments. As he took a few deep breaths and slowly opened his eyes, he looked at his hands. He could vaguely remember, as if it had been some kind of terrible dream, those same hands, clawing at Bill’s clothes, at Bill’s skin, at Bill’s hair.

Tears slowly slipped down his cheek, one by one, until they because an uncontrolled stream rolling down his face. He had only one clear thought in his head:

I hurt Bill.

With that thought came flashes of the look of terror on his friend's face, the fear that shone in his eyes, and the reflection of himself he caught in those tear-filled orbs.

I'm fucking insane. What have I done?

Then, suddenly, another thought entered his mind.

Tom... shit... I'm a dead man.

As if he didn't feel horrible enough, he knew if Tom caught wind of this, he'd be at the mercy of the older Kaulitz's rage.

"And they'll all hate me."

The words slipped past his lips, ringing in the silence, making it all seem so much more real. Unbidden thoughts came in waves, crowding into Gustav’s head so tightly that it felt like his head would explode from them all. Bill and Tom - hell, even Georg – would hate him forever; the band was done for.

Worst of all, he'd have to live every day knowing that he messed up the best thing that might have ever happened to him – and it wasn’t exactly the band and his career he was thinking of at that moment.

"I... hurt Bill. Oh God."

His stomach lurched. The memory of Bill below him was making him feel sick. His head began to spin, and, without stopping to consider it, he reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle of pills. The rest of the band was still, thankfully, unaware that Gustav was on medication for severe depression (for reasons he’d been thinking about way too much, lately), and Gustav could not think of a deeper depression than the one he had just put himself into.

"You fuckup, Gustav," he grumbled to himself, popping the cap open and pouring a few of the blue-and-white capsules into his palm. The more he thought about things, the more he thought back to the worst parts of his life, the things that shaped this pathetic person he'd felt he'd become, the person who had done the unthinkable.

He'll never be able to look at me again. Hell, I don't want to look at me again...

He tried wrapping his mind around never being to Bill what he had always wanted, ruining the best relationship he had ever had, but his thoughts shut down. He couldn't imagine that life. He didn't want to. It was a dangerous train of thought. He just wanted the pain to go away.

Gustav picked up the small bottle and poured a few more pills into his hand. The dosage instructions called for only two of the pills, but at the moment, all he cared about was making the terrible thoughts in his head go away. Two weren’t going to cut it.

He stumbled to the bathroom, somehow, and swallowed every pill in his hand, gulping water from the sink as he did so. Then, spent, he slid down the wall next to the sink.

Minutes passed, feeling like mere seconds. Gustav frowned. He still felt upset, which meant the medicine must not have been working. He stood, with some effort, and reached a shaking hand out to grasp the small bottle of pills. Gustav frowned again. He hadn’t realized he had been shaking.

After a brief struggle with the bottle, Gustav managed to get the lid off, spilling a few of the pills in the process. He dropped to the ground to pick them up, swallowing them as he went. After about six pills, Gustav felt like his mouth was suddenly filled with massive amounts of cotton.

The sink was above him, provider of glorious water…if only he could reach it. He studied one of his hands, which he noticed was clenched into a fist. It was uncomfortably tense, but Gustav couldn’t seem to relax it. He slung an arm up into the sink and hoisted himself clumsily up, banging his head in the process.

With his unclenched hand, he swiped at the tap. Water rushed out, and Gustav almost cried out in relief. Maybe he did. He wasn’t sure. He drank and drank, inhaling some and choking. He drank until he felt sick. Then he drank some more. It was too much, especially on his empty stomach, and he vomited into the sink, losing most of the water he had just swallowed. It felt precious and irreplaceable, and Gustav began to cry again.

He was suddenly aware of a terrible cramping in his stomach. It felt so much like the cramping in his hand that at first he was confused. For a split second, it had felt like his hand and his stomach were the same. Then another wave of nausea passed through him and he threw up again, this time missing the sink.

Gustav’s mouth still felt dry, so he swallowed some more water. He realized that he was shaking even more, and felt a sudden, desperate need to move around. A walk sounded like a really good idea. But a walk meant he would have to leave the water, and that would never do. He cast his eyes around the room, searching for a container he could fill with water. His eyes landed on a shiny metallic toothbrush holder. It had dried bits of toothpaste stuck to it, but Gustav didn’t care. He seized it clumsily, threw the toothbrushes within it carelessly across the bathroom, filled the cup with water, then darted out of the bathroom.

He stumbled out of the bus, having difficulty walking. One of his feet felt as seized up as his hand did. His stomach, no longer cramped, felt like it was writhing violently within his body. Every muscle within him screamed in agony. He was in the most excruciating pain he could ever remember being in.

His need to walk was more important than the pain, however, and he began walking in circles around the bus. Gustav felt like he was speeding around the bus faster than any human should have been able to. He felt like he had circled it hundreds of times by the time he came to a stop just a few minutes later. A quick check of his watch, however, showed that over an hour had passed.

Gustav frowned. He was out of water. The drummer threw the bus door open roughly and went inside. The sound of the bus door hitting the side of the bus rang loudly in his ears. Suddenly, he heard Georg and Bill, sitting in Georg’s bunk, talking loudly. He realized with a start that they were talking about him.

The two boys had nothing nice to say – everything was about how much of a failure Gustav was. He could hear Bill crying, and everything he had done to his closest friend came rushing back. Gustav stormed to the bunk and wrenched the curtains aside, only to find that nobody was there.

“Hello?” he called out loudly. He could hear whispers of people that couldn’t possibly be there. His sister was laughing at him from his own bunk. Tom mocked and threatened him from somewhere toward the back of the bus. Bill was still crying. Gustav rushed around the bus, overturning furniture, throwing clothes around, tearing things apart wildly, attempting to locate the sources of the sounds.

There was nobody on the bus, but Gustav could hear them, he knew they were there. A ringing filled his ears. His mouth was impossibly dry, but he couldn’t find it within him to refill the toothbrush cup. He knew that without water he would die, but at that moment, he didn’t even care. He collapsed on the couch, then rolled off onto the floor, writhing around in agony. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and he wanted to die. He was in sensory overload.

There was a fog in his head. His mouth was full of foam, making it feel drier than ever. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe. Then, suddenly, he saw that perfect face in front of him. A face he knew better than his own.

“Bill?” he whispered. The face moved. He reached out to touch it, and the face did not disappear. It was real. “Bill?” he repeated. He began to cry again. “Bill, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, Bill…please don’t hate me.”

“Oh God, Gustav,” the person above him said. What Gustav had not realized was that it was Tom, back early from his night out, that he was seeing, not Bill. “Fuck, what do I do?” The guitarist looked around anxiously, beginning to panic. “Shit, shit, shit.” He pulled out his mobile phone.

“Bill, I’m sorry,” Gustav sobbed, thrashing around wildly. His foot kicked violently at Tom’s guitar case, sending it crashing toward Tom. The other boy yelped and attempted to dodge the case as it flew toward him. The mobile phone flew from his hands and landed next to one of the beds. Tom crawled toward it, but was stopped by strong hands latching onto his ankle. “I didn’t mean to, Bill, I’m sorry, don’t hate me. Please, Bill…”

Tom swore, trying to shake the other boy off to no avail. The drummer was stronger than he was, even in his pitiful state. He could not wrench his foot away.

“Goddammit, Gustav, let go of me!” he finally screamed back at the other boy. Gustav immediately let go, shrinking from the sound like a frightened puppy. His sobs increased in volume, and he continued to wail his apologies. Tom took advantage of the distraction to seize his mobile phone. He stood far out of the crazed boy’s reach as he dialed an emergency number.

Tom attempted to converse with the emergency operator, but it was extremely difficult with Gustav sobbing and convulsing nearby. Finally, against his better judgment, he left the bus entirely, leaving the spasming boy alone inside.

After getting an ambulance called, Tom went back inside to check on Gustav. To his horror, he found his friend in a sloppy pile on the floor, not moving. Tom rushed over to him.

“Shit! Gustav?” He patted the other boy’s cheek awkwardly, unsure what to do. Gustav did nothing. “Wake up, Gustav. Fuck. Wake up!” His efforts did no good; the other boy remained motionless.

Tom paced around the bus anxiously, at a loss. As his circuit took him near the bathroom, he caught a whiff of stale vomit. Holding his breath, he stuck his head into the bathroom, and was greeted with an appalling sight: puddles of water mingled lazily with puddles of vomit, and small capsules, half-dissolved in the liquids, littered the bathroom like sprinkles on a cupcake. Tom shut the bathroom door quickly.

“Fuck,” he said helplessly. He knew nothing about medicine, and had no idea what the pills in the bathroom were, but he had a feeling they were the cause of Gustav’s condition.

He decided to call the other two members of the band before the paramedics arrived. Then he went back to pacing, stopping occasionally to check that the other boy was breathing. On the third such check, Tom noticed that Gustav’s fingers were beginning to turn blue.

“Shit,” he muttered, feeling like his vocabulary had suddenly been reduced to a handful of words, none of them pleasant.

He was saved from further action, however, by both his brother and the paramedics, who arrived at almost exactly the same time. Bill burst onto the bus, his makeup smeared with tears and his hair in disarray. When he saw Gustav lying motionless on the floor, he froze, mouth hanging open.

Two paramedics bustled around, securing Gustav onto a stretcher and carrying him away. A third one waved Tom over and began interrogating him about the situation.

“What happened?” the paramedic asked, uncapping a pen and preparing to write on a complicated-looking chart. Tom filled him in as best he could, describing Gustav’s erratic behavior and recounting the things he had said.

When he described the bathroom, littered with pills, the paramedic looked up sharply. “I need you to show me these pills,” he said. Tom quickly led him toward the back of the bus and showed him the bathroom. The paramedic picked a pill up from the floor, then looked around and spotted the prescription container.

“Gustav Schäfer,” he read, examining the label. “Your friend?” Tom nodded mutely. The paramedic hesitated, then pocketed the pills and ordered Tom to follow him to the ambulance. As they passed, Bill’s shocked and teary eyes followed them. He appeared unable to move from his spot.

Tom and the paramedic climbed into the ambulance, which roared away, sirens blaring. Bill had still not recovered when Georg showed up, breathless.

“Where’s Gustav?” he asked, clutching his side. He had obviously run a great distance. Bill shook his head, unable to speak. “Bill.” Georg’s voice was loud and stern. “Bill.” When the singer still didn’t respond, Georg reached out and slapped Bill’s cheek lightly.

“Huh?” Bill snapped out of it, putting a hand dazedly up to his cheek where the bassist had slapped it. “Shit. Gustav - ”

Without finishing his sentence, Bill pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and began mashing buttons frantically. A moment later, his phone buzzed to announce an incoming text message, which he read immediately.

He knew where Gustav was.

“Let’s go,” he said.

By the by, in case you hadn't noticed, the chapter titles and lyric snippets clue you in as to what's going on in each chapter. ;)

Caged - Chapter Three - Nothing's Like Before

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 21:04:07 GMT

"How was it able to happen
everyone's going his own way
everyone's going alone
Nothing's like before"

CHAPTER THREE: NOTHING’S LIKE BEFORE

Bill avoided the hotel room for the rest of the day. Georg tried to call him once or twice, but he rejected the calls. He ended up spending most of the day splayed out on the floor of a little-used hallway on the top floor of the hotel. Echoes of people far below floated up to him, but the hallway Bill was in was empty save for a single laundry lady who passed slowly by pushing a heavily loaded cart.

His phone chirped loudly, startling both Bill and the laundry lady. She sent him a dirty look, then continued on her way. Bill glanced at the display. Gustav was calling him. He sighed and answered.

“Yes, Gustav?”

“Where are you?” The voice coming through the phone sounded concerned. “I heard you and Tom really got into it.”

“Yeah,” Bill said dully. “We did.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come stick up for you,” Gustav said. “I should have.”

“Nah, it’s probably best that you didn’t. Tom was pissed enough as it was, without you there to piss him off more.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean,” Bill said, sighing.

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence.

“Well….have fun pouting, I guess,” Gustav said. “I’ll let Georg and Tom know that you’re okay.”

Gustav hung up the phone reluctantly, then settled back on his pillow to think. Thinking was one of his favorite things to do, when he got the rare opportunity to do it, and he certainly had some food for thought that day.

For starters, he was exceedingly grateful that Bill had given him the single room, given the argument that had just taken place. He imagined that things could have been awkward if Bill had gotten the single room instead – or, worse yet, if Georg had gotten it. Gustav didn’t want to imagine himself, Bill, and Tom sharing a room with tensions the way they were.

He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit lonely in the room, though. Gustav tended to prefer being around other people, despite his introverted personality. Falling asleep in particular was much easier when set to a symphony of rustling sheets and nighttime noises, punctuated with Georg’s light snores and the faint sounds of Tom grinding his teeth.

Gustav tried to spend as little time as possible alone. He didn’t want his life to pass by unnoticed. It was part of the reason he loved being a rockstar so much – even though he never said anything in interviews, and even though in concert he was always hidden by his drums, he was still there. There would be hundreds of thousands of witnesses to his life. He needed witnesses. He needed people to know where he was, what he was doing. It helped him feel less utterly alone. He never wanted to be truly alone again.

He sighed. As much as he liked thinking, he had to be careful how he went about it. Too easily, his thoughts strayed places he didn’t want them to, especially given Bill’s recent prodding.

“Bill, Bill, Bill,” Gustav muttered. Bill was everything that Gustav was not: optimistic, cheerful, open, excitable. Gustav wanted so desperately to be everything for Bill, but found himself helplessly unable to. Bill deserved somebody he could shower with love and affection, and who was capable of returning it. Gustav was afraid that, for him, it was already too late. He had too many skeletons in his closet to ever be worthy of Bill’s attention.

Gustav punched the pillow next to him. Then, inexplicably, he felt bad for the pillow. He curled up on his side, wrapping his arms around the pillow, holding it close and trying not to imagine a certain somebody being in its place. Gustav remained in this position for many minutes, before eventually drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

What felt like mere seconds later, Gustav bolted upright, jerking out of his sleep. At first, he wasn’t sure what had awakened him, but as his brain caught up to his body he realized that he could hear a hammering on his door, joined a moment later by the sound of Georg’s voice.

“Hey, Gustav.” The voice was muffled. “Why the hell are you still in bed? Open the door!”

Gustav groaned, then got up and hobbled to the door. He felt stiff and sore, his head felt like it had been trampled by a herd of wildebeest, and his mouth tasted like a dirty sock.

He opened the door a crack and saw Georg peering back at him, worry in his eyes.

“You look like hell, man,” Georg said. Gustav grunted. “Can I come in?”

Gustav grunted again, but opened the door before stumbling back to the bed and collapsing onto it. Georg entered and perched on the chair next to the bed.

“Why the hell were you asleep for so long? You know we have an interview and a photoshoot in two hours, right?”

Gustav halfheartedly raised an arm to his face and checked his watch. He groaned again before letting his arm fall back to the bed.

“Dude, seriously.” Georg nudged Gustav’s leg with a toe. “Snap out of it. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” Gustav replied. “Slept too long, maybe.”

“Yeah, fourteen hours. Are you on drugs or something?”

Gustav shook his head. “Just thinking too much,” he said, forcing himself to sit up.

“Well, quit thinking. We have to get to this interview. Now get dressed.”

When Gustav didn’t move, Georg leaned over and grabbed a nearby discarded shirt, throwing it at the other boy.

“Get dressed,” he said. Gustav obediently pulled the shirt on over his head. “Good man,” Georg said, standing. “We’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.”

Gustav managed to get dressed, go downstairs, and climb into the van with the other boys. The interview and the photoshoot passed in a vague blur. He thought he remembered posing next to a brick wall, but couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter anyway. Georg had been right. He needed to quit thinking so much. It was messing him up.

Ever since the interview the day before, and Bill’s insistent followup, parts of him were resurfacing that he would prefer to remain buried. He didn’t like the feeling.

Eventually the boys arrived back at the hotel and were informed that they were moving on to another city that afternoon. Their bags had already been packed and loaded onto the tour bus, courtesy of their staff.

Gustav boarded the tour bus mutely, settling himself onto his bunk and closing the curtain. He stared at the ceiling for a long time. Bill and Georg poked their heads in once or twice, but he waved them away. Tom kept his distance, obviously still angry with him. Gustav didn’t care.

A few hours before noon the next day, the bus rolled to a stop. David Jost boarded the bus briefly.

“You’ve got a day off,” he announced. “Make the most of it, boys.”

Tom and Georg immediately exited the bus noisily, already planning how they would spend their day off. David arranged for a bodyguard to accompany them, then sat down on the couch next to Bill. Gustav still had not moved from his bunk.

“What are your plans for the day?” David asked. Bill shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I might stick around the bus for a while before I do anything. Gustav’s been feeling kind of down and I’d like to try to cheer him up.”

David nodded, standing. “Call me when you know what your plans are, and we’ll make arrangements.” Bill gave a noncommittal grunt as David exited the bus.

A moment passed. Bill sighed, then stood and made his way to Gustav’s bunk. The drummer had been even more reclusive than usual lately, and Bill needed to find out why.

“Gustav?” he asked hesitantly. The curtain moved, and Gustav came into view. He didn’t say anything. Bill settled himself carefully on the edge of Gustav’s bed. “Gustav, please talk to me.”

“What?” he asked quietly.

“You haven’t said a word to anybody since yesterday. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Gustav replied dully. “Thinking. That’s all.”

“About what?” Bill looked searchingly at his friend, concerned.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

Gustav closed his eyes, hoping that Bill would take the hint and go away, but no such luck: he could feel the boy shifting around next to him, and, a moment later, a heavy weight settled itself on his chest. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of Bill straddling his chest.

“Get off me,” Gustav said.

“Gustav.” Bill made steady direct eye contact with the drummer.

“Look, I told you I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Get off me.” Gustav muttered, halfheartedly reaching out to push Bill off of him, but the wiry boy resisted the shove.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” Bill said. For a brief instant, Gustav considered spilling the entire story, just to get Bill to leave him alone, but just thinking about the subject had made the bars around his soul tighten. He felt like something inside him was about to snap, and he knew, somehow, that talking about what had happened to him would cause something very bad to happen.

Gustav closed his eyes again, tightly, and willed Bill to go away. Bill couldn’t have known what he was getting into, by asking for Gustav’s trust. He wished the other boy would just stop prying into his past. In time, maybe, he could get over it on his own.

“Gustav, please. I want to be here for you. Please talk to me,” Bill pleaded, reaching for Gustav’s hand and cradling it gently. “We’re all worried about you.” He stroked the drummer’s rough hand softly.

“I can’t talk about it,” Gustav said, pulling his hand away. Bill shifted so that he was half-laying on his chest, bringing his face very close to Gustav’s.

“Please?” Bill kissed Gustav’s jaw gently; Gustav could feel his resistance to Bill weakening as thoughts bubbled up in his brain like bile after a heavy night of drinking. He tried to push them down desperately, but Bill kept pressing.

“I told you - ” Gustav began, squeezing his eyes shut so hard his eyelids began to ache. Images burned themselves into the back of his lids, hot flashes of grotesque imagery.

“Then write it down, or…or show me, or something. Please.”

Suddenly, it happened: Gustav felt something in him snap. The next thing he knew, he had lunged forward, grabbed Bill’s wrists, and pinned him to the bed.

“You want me to show you?” Gustav growled. “I’ll show you. I’ll show you exactly what happened to me.”

Underneath him, Bill squirmed, trying to break away.

“What the hell are you doing?!” The sound of Bill’s voice only made Gustav grip the slender wrists more tightly. “Gustav, you’re hurting me!”

“You don’t know pain,” hissed Gustav, baring his teeth in such an animalistic manner that it frightened Bill. Gustav stared down at the writhing boy below him, eyes full of a strange dark fire.

“Let go!” Bill exclaimed. Gustav slapped him square across the face, making the other boy cry out. Tears welled up in Bill’s eyes, making his eyeliner run, but Gustav appeared not to notice. He shifted his grip so that both of Bill’s wrists were pinned with one hand, then wrenched up Bill’s shirt. He raked his nails sharply down the other boy’s torso, leaving long pink lines dotted with blood.

Bill cried out again, struggling harder against the iron grip restraining his wrists. The noise seemed only to awaken Gustav further, and Bill soon felt a fumbling at his waist.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Bill shouted, just as Gustav managed to undo the button on Bill’s pants, sliding them down roughly. The singer thrashed about, trying fruitlessly to escape, as Gustav bit him mercilessly. Angry purple crescents dotted his pelvis, burning like tiny fires.

The tears that had welled in Bill’s eyes suddenly spilled over, and he found himself sobbing, totally at the mercy of a complete stranger. He had never felt so hurt and violated in his life, and it was only the feeling of fingertips sliding under the waistband of his boxers that jerked him out of his haze of misery.

Without thinking, Bill kicked sharply up, connecting with Gustav’s midsection. The drummer let out a gasp and let go of Bill, doubling over. Bill snatched up his pants and backed as far away from the other boy as the bed would allow.

Suddenly, Gustav sank to the floor, looking, dumbstruck, up at Bill and shaking his head in disbelief. The dark fires within the boy’s eyes had died, leaving something remarkably close to terror there. His mouth hung open, silent.

An impossibly long moment passed, as both boys sat completely frozen. Then Bill shoved roughly past his bandmate and disappeared around the curtain that led to the front of the bus. He collapsed on the couch just long enough to put his pants back on, then stumbled out the main door. Bill didn’t know or care what Gustav was doing; all he could think of was the feel of his supposed friend’s teeth, biting him…his nails, drawing blood.

He shivered. "Shit... this... can't have been real." he mumbled to himself, but as he felt the soreness from the bruises forming, he shook his head. He knew he couldn't deny the reality of it.

Bill tried taking a few deep breaths, but he wasn’t about to calm down any time soon. There were too many thoughts and emotions rolling around in his head, and none of them were good.

He needed to talk to somebody. Bill reached with shaking hands into his pants pocket. Fortunately, his mobile phone had not fallen out during the assault.

Bill pressed a few buttons on the phone. As the phone rang, his ragged breaths took a hold of him, and he felt a few stray tears slide down his cheek. That couldn't have been real.

"Hello?" The sound of a familiar voice sent waves of sorrow, hurt, and anger through him, and he began to cry in earnest. If his best friend, Andreas, couldn’t make him feel better, then nobody would be able to.

"Andi? Shit... I don't understand...help me."

"Bill? What's wrong? You sound like shit." Andreas sounded concerned.

"Gustav... he... Andi, I was scared...."

Bill was finding it hard to find words, as though Gustav had stripped his vocabulary, as well as his pants, from him. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

“What did he do, Bill?”

“He…attacked me. He held me down and bit me. And he did…other things. It was so scary,” Bill whispered, still crying.

“What? Have you told Tom?” Bill winced at the sharpness of his friend’s voice.

“Oh God,” he said. “Don’t tell him. Please don’t tell Tom what happened.” Andreas remained quiet. “Please. He’ll kill Gustav if he ever found out.”

“Why do you care? He just tried to rape you,” Andreas said. “Who cares if Tom kills him?”

“I…have to go,” Bill said, suddenly overwhelmed. “Please, don’t tell Tom. Don’t tell anybody.”

“Bill - ” Andreas started to say something, but Bill hung up the phone and sank to the ground, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He glanced up at the bus. Inside those metal walls was a person that Bill thought he knew. Bill was filled with an urgent need to put distance between himself and the bus. He didn’t care where he was going, as long as it was away.

A half an hour later found Bill pacing nervously in the bathroom of the coffeeshop. In his haste to get away from the bus, the quiet shop had seemed like a good place to take refuge – that is, until the paparazzi had shown up. Bill had quickly retreated to the tiny, dim bathroom, not in the mood to deal with his fame.

A heavy weight had settled itself firmly in his chest. Even talking to his best friend had not helped to relieve the pain he felt. Bill pulled out his phone and scrolled mindlessly through pictures taken with the phone’s camera. He was half looking for something to cheer him up and distract him from his melancholy, and half attempting to occupy himself until the tabloid reporters went away. Dimly lit coffeeshop bathrooms were not known for their entertainment value.

Bill stopped randomly at a picture of himself and Tom, knee-deep in various tokens of affection from fans. Tom was holding a frilly pink bra up to his chest and laughing madly. Bill smiled sadly, then clicked to the next picture.

He felt his breath catch in his throat. Staring up at him from the tiny screen was a picture of himself from several months earlier, planting a kiss enthusiastically on Gustav’s cheek. Both boys looked so happy (and a bit embarrassed, in Gustav’s case). Bill felt hot tears well in his eyes, and he shut the phone quickly with an abrupt snap.

The picture brought with it a flood of mixed emotions, most of which Bill was not in a place to deal with. He began to pace again, wondering when the reporters would go away. The bathroom was tiny, and Bill was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic. It was a miracle nobody else had needed to use it yet.

Bill’s phone suddenly rang shrilly, startling the boy from his dark thoughts. He checked the display. It was Tom. Bill thought back to his phone call with Andreas and swore.

“Goddamn it, Andi,” he muttered, picking up the phone. “Yeah, Tom,” he said, expecting the worst. If Andreas had told Tom about what happened with Gustav, he was in for a very unpleasant conversation indeed.

Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the words that he was about to hear.

“Uh, Bill, um…fuck, I’m not really sure what to do.” There was a pause. “I think Gustav just tried to kill himself.”

Bill’s heart stopped.

“What?” he managed to get out. Surely he hadn’t just heard what he thought he just heard.

“Um…I called an ambulance already. I mean, like, shit, he’s passed out on the floor now.” Tom sounded frightened and lost.

“Hang on. I’m coming,” Bill hung up the phone, and, without thinking, strode over to the bathroom door and opened it. He shoved hurriedly through the small crowd of tabloid reporters, only vaguely aware of his name being called, of flashbulbs going off. His head was suddenly filled with a thick fog that was making it hard to think. Bill shook off the reporters and quickly hailed a taxi to take him back to the bus, where one of his dearest friends lay dying.

OSNAP.

Caged - Chapter Two - Wir Schließen Uns Ein

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 21:01:51 GMT

TITLE: Caged
AUTHOR: </a></a>nyssa, </a></a>chaos_im_system
RATING: NC/17
PAIRINGS: Bill/Gustav
SUMMARY: Gustav doesn’t smile anymore, and Bill intends to find out why
DISCLAIMER: This story is a figment of our crazed and disturbed imaginations. This didn’t happen. …this had better not have happened, or I might have to cry for DAYS. Really. No kidding.
WARNINGS: Adult content, attempted suicide, blood, bondage, drug abuse, heavy/light kink, non-con/rape, pedophilia, torture, under-age erotica, violence.
COMMENTS: Heed the warnings, starting from chapter three. No, really. Also, this is the darkest, most epic fic either of us has written, so…please be nice?

PREVIOUSLY: chapter one.

"I look out of the window
My gaze won't get anywhere
I caught the rest of my life in here
I broke the key and holed up in myself"

CHAPTER TWO: WIR SCHLIEßEN UNS EIN

The woman interviewing them was just young enough to seem relevant to the music scene, but just old enough that she wasn’t actually so. She wore a grey button up shirt; her legs were tightly wrapped in a knee-length pencil skirt. She was, in fact, altogether boring, Bill reflected.

Unfortunately for the boys, the interview itself was no more interesting than the woman conducting it. Bill had answered each question so many times before that he suspected he could have conducted the interview in his sleep.

“So where, exactly, did you boys get the name ‘Tokio Hotel’ from, anyway?” the interviewer asked. Bill ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to strangle the woman; thankfully, Tom was already holding the microphone, so he was spared the agony of answering.

Bill paid little attention as his twin answered, clearly enjoying his uncontested dominance of the interview. There would be no playful squabbling over the microphone that day.

“And now we have some questions from fans,” the interviewer said, shuffling a few papers. “The first question is from a fan in Berlin. She asks, ‘What were your least favorite subjects in school and why?’”

Bill sighed inwardly, willing the interview to go faster. He could think of a thousand things he’d rather be doing than sitting on the hard purple couch in front of this boring woman. Her voice cut suddenly into Bill’s thoughts, and he tried to force himself to pay attention.

“This question is for Gustav. A fan in Stuttgart writes, ‘Gustav, you are so adorable when you smile. Why don’t you smile more?’”

Bill turned his gaze halfheartedly to Gustav, who looked uncomfortable. Bill doubted that anybody watching would have been able to tell, but Bill knew the other boy’s body language better than anybody else. Gustav definitely did not want to answer that question. Bill, his curiosity piqued, paid close attention as the drummer took the microphone and prepared to answer.

“Well,” he began after a pause, leaning forward casually, “I like to stay mysterious. It gives too much away if I’m always smiling. You might know too much!” Gustav managed an obligatory half-smile for the camera, then quickly passed the microphone back to Tom. Bill was not satisfied.

The truth was, he had been beginning to wonder about his friend. The boys had shared their special friendship, or relationship, or whatever it was (Bill was still not sure) for well over a year, but Bill felt as though Gustav still held back. If Gustav was trying to maintain an air of mystery, he was certainly doing an excellent job – even with the one person he should be able to relax around.

Bill stewed thoughtfully on the topic for the remainder of the interview. Fans would probably notice that he had barely said a word beyond ‘hello’, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was finding out why Gustav had reacted the way he had. It wasn’t that the reaction was so shocking or pronounced – it was just the icing on the cake of worry that Bill had been harboring for some time. He resolved to ask the drummer about it when they got a moment alone.

The interview eventually came to an end, to Bill’s great relief. The boys were ushered back into their van, which departed for their hotel, located half an hour away. The ride was uneventful, the van silent. Georg and Tom were in the middle seat, catching up on sleep. Gustav sat staring absentmindedly out the back window, one finger hooked around Bill’s pinky. Bill watched the other boy, at a loss. He wanted to help his friend with whatever it was that was bothering him – if, indeed, anything was – but had no idea how to go about offering. Gustav tended to be sensitive about discussing his emotions.

The van rolled to a stop outside of their hotel. Bill sighed, then nudged the boy next to him, rousing him from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, we’re here,” Gustav said, shaking his head to clear it. The two got out of the van, climbing around their bandmates, who were still snoring quietly. The hotel was in the middle of a relatively small city, one they had never been to before. Bill blinked in the bright sun, looking around.

“Bad news, boys,” said a voice from behind them. The two turned to see their manager, David Jost. “The hotel overbooked, so we were only able to get a double with a cot and a single. You boys have five minutes to fight over who gets the cot, then we have to check in. Got it?” Bill nodded. Gustav said nothing.

At that moment, Tom and Georg emerged from the van, rubbing their eyes sleepily. David quickly filled them in on the situation.

“Not it,” said Tom immediately. Georg echoed him a split second later. Bill and Gustav looked at each other.

“I’ll take the cot,” Bill said, sighing. “You can have the bed.” Gustav opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but was interrupted by their manager.

“Excellent! Let’s get going then,” David said, walking briskly toward the gleaming glass-and-brass hotel doors. The boys followed, Bill and Gustav in the rear.

Their room was on the ninth floor of the hotel. David led them into the larger room, handed each boy a room key, then disappeared. Faced with a few hours of free time, Georg and Tom immediately dumped their suitcases out, grabbed their wallets, and headed out. Gustav, surrounded by hats, tutted at the mess.

“I’m glad I’m not staying in here,” he said. “You’re all a bunch of slobs.” Bill laughed.

“That’s why you love us.”

“Hardly.” Gustav’s tone was dry. Bill sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Bill asked his friend.

Gustav furrowed his brow, frowning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said carefully.

“I’m talking about you,” Bill said. “You’ve been weird for a while now. Like something’s wrong. Like at the interview today.”

“Oh, um…” Gustav rubbed his neck apprehensively.

“And that’s not all,” Bill barreled on, taking no notice of Gustav’s growing discomfort. “Sometimes, when I hug you and you don’t know I’m coming, you get all stiff for a second, and you mumble weird things in your sleep, and then there’s that whole thing with you not wanting to get close to me. I want to know what’s wrong.”

A shiver of dread passed up Gustav’s spine. The truth was, he was guarding a secret, but he couldn’t tell anybody about it, ever. What would they think of him? Out of necessity, he had created an iron cage around his heart.

“I can’t - ” His voice caught in his throat unexpectedly as he tried to vocalize some of his jumbled thoughts. “I can’t talk about that right now.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” he said.

“I…please. Someday, maybe.”

“You tried that one on me already, Gustav. Someday? You know as well as I do, that day’s never going to come. Is it?” Bill crossed his arms.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Gustav whispered. “I really…don’t.”

Neither boy said anything for what felt like a long time. Gustav could feel unbidden thoughts pressing themselves against his consciousness, and he tried desperately to bury them. He took a deep, shuddering breath, wrapping his arms around himself tightly.

Bill watched the other boy closely, then approached Gustav and wrapped his arms loosely around the other boy’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to be there for you. I really do. Please let me, when you can.” Gustav rested his head on Bill’s shoulder, taking a deep breath and nodding. The two stood that way for a while, not talking, until a loud bang startled them from their reverie. Bill jumped and looked toward the source of the sound.

“Georg wants to know if - ” Tom, having just burst through the door, froze midsentence when he saw the boys in their embrace. “What the hell?”

Bill sighed and disentangled himself from his friend. He knew that it was stupid to be so openly affectionate in a place they would be so easily caught. He also knew that his special friendship with Gustav couldn’t remain hidden forever, but Bill had been putting off telling his hot-tempered brother about it. All Tom knew was that the two had been unusually close lately; he didn’t know that anything between them had changed. Tom didn’t react well to change - especially big change - and it would have taken some finesse to clue him in gently. The plan, apparently, would have to change.

“Can I talk to you outside, Tom?” he asked.

“What were you just doing?” Tom replied, his features darkening.

“Look, we can talk about it outside.” Bill seized his brother’s arm and dragged him, with some difficulty, toward the door. Gustav remained standing in the middle of the room, apparently unsure of what to do. To Bill’s relief, however, the other boy chose to stay behind. This conversation would be hard enough without Gustav around; his presence would no doubt be enough to provoke Tom even further.

Bill shut the door to the hotel room with a soft snap, then turned to face his brother. The dreadlocked boy was standing with his arms folded, eyeing Bill distastefully.

"Alright, spill. What's the deal with you and Gustav?"

"Since you asked so nicely, I guess you could say we're…involved. You got a problem with that?" Bill asked defensively, folding his arms in a mirror image of his brother.

"Yeah, I do. What are you thinking?" Tom said, his voice rising a notch.

"What I'm thinking is none of your business, Tom!"

"I'm your bandmate. I'm your brother. Your older brother. Yeah, it's my business, Bill. How can you possibly think having a…a relationship - ”

“ – we’re not dating!” Bill interrupted, frowning. “We’re just - ”

“ - a relationship,” Tom continued, ignoring the interruption, “with a boy - a bandmate - is a good idea?”

"You’ve had girlfriends before," Bill pointed out.

"It's not the same, Bill!" Tom threw his hands up in frustration. “You know it’s not the same! Don’t be a moron.”

"What do you mean it's not the same?" Bill asked, deliberately ignoring the insult.

"He’s in our band! What if he dumps you? Is this worth losing everything over?"

"You're not my mother!” Bill shot back loudly. “I’m old enough to think for myself! I'm happy. Why is that such a problem?"

"You're not happy, Bill. You just think that shacking up with a…with a boy is the answer to your problems!” Tom took a few steps forward and jabbed his brother in the chest. “…Girls would kill to get to know you, you know that?"

"I don't want them, Tom. Back off." Bill shoved his brother away roughly, then turned to leave.

"And why the hell should I?" Tom snapped, following behind Bill. "When the hell did you decide to start liking guys?"

"I don't know, Tom, why don't you tell me?” Bill roared, whirling back around to face his brother. “You seem to know everything else about how my life should be going."

"Then why Gustav? Did it have to be somebody in our band?"

"What, are you jealous?” Bill asked, stepping very close to Tom and looking him directly in the eyes. “Afraid I might be able to actually be happy with somebody, and you won’t?"

Tom seemed taken slightly aback at that comment, and sputtered uselessly for a moment before collecting himself enough to reply.

"Don't date your bandmates."

"I'll do what I please."

A dangerous moment passed as each boy stared the other down, tension vibrating thickly in the air. At that moment, a nearby elevator dinged and the doors opened. It was Georg, who was greeted by the sight of the twins standing inches apart, fists clenched by their sides. They looked in unison at the other boy, who looked from one twin to the other and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

“Um, sorry to interrupt. I’m supposed to tell you that Jost wants us downstairs.”

“Screw Jost,” Tom snapped angrily. “Georg, Bill is fucking Gustav.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Bill said, throwing his arms up again. “I am not fucking Gustav! You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“Blowing it…blowing it out of proportion?!” Tom screeched, glaring daggers at his brother. “You’re going to ruin everything, because you can’t stay out of our goddamn drummer’s pants!”

Bill opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again with a snap. Finally, seething, he growled, “You know what? Forget it. You can talk to me when you’re not a selfish, immature fucking asshole. Just because you’ll fuck anything with a vagina doesn’t mean I have to, too. Not all of us have to fuck somebody to feel good about ourselves."

With that, the singer shoved roughly past his brother, entered the elevator, and disappeared, leaving two stunned boys staring after him.

Enjoy chapter two. :) Next week is when the story really takes off. It's pretty crazy.

Caged - NC-17 - Bill/Gustav

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 06:49:50 GMT

TITLE: Caged
AUTHOR: nyssa , chaos_im_system
RATING: NC/17
PAIRINGS: Bill/Gustav
SUMMARY: Gustav doesn’t smile anymore, and Bill intends to find out why
DISCLAIMER: This story is a figment of our crazed and disturbed imaginations. This didn’t happen. …this had better not have happened, or I might have to cry for DAYS. Really. No kidding.
WARNINGS: Adult content, attempted suicide, blood, bondage, drug abuse, heavy/light kink, non-con/rape, pedophilia, torture, under-age erotica, violence.
COMMENTS: Heed the warnings. No, really. Also, this is the darkest, most epic fic either of us has written, so…please be nice?

"He is everything
You've never seen before
And I think about him
Every hour, every day"

CHAPTER ONE: THEMA NR. 1

Neither boy could remember how it started. It had just seemed natural. After all, it sometimes got lonely on the road, and the best way to avoid the loneliness was to be together.

It was nothing sexual, of course. Just kisses and cuddles that came and went as they pleased. Tom had not been pleased when he first noticed how much time the two boys were spending together. Bill had been treated to a long rant about public image and rumors on the internet, and other inconsequential things. Bill hadn’t paid much attention, because after all, what he did with Gustav wasn’t sexual. It was just natural.

"Aw, Gusti, you lonely?" Bill grinned, plopping down on the couch next to Gustav, who was reading a newspaper. The band was enjoying a quiet night off in their pair of hotel suites – Georg and Tom in one suite, Bill and Gustav in another. Even though it was their first night off in a long time, Bill had clearly not been content to simply relax for long.

"No, Bill,” said Gustav, smiling in spite of himself. “You just don't believe in peace and quiet, do you?" Bill shook his head happily and smiled, placing a light kiss on the other boy’s cheek.

"You wouldn't want it any other way," he said, wriggling underneath Gustav’s arm for a cuddle.

"You and your games." Gustav chuckled, folding his newspaper in resignation. Bill frowned and pulled away.

"Is that it? Just a game?" he asked, a slight crease appearing in his forehead.

"W-what?" Gustav responded, flustered.

"I mean…I just want to know where we stand. What we are," Bill said. This was not the first time the two had talked about this, but Bill had never been satisfied with the result of such conversations. Gustav sighed and stroked Bill’s arm gently.

"...I know you want more than this. I'm just not sure I could give you what you want. I mean, you - "

"I just want to be with you, for real. Like... you know...for real," Bill murmured shyly, not able to finish the sentence properly.

“I know, Bill. And you know I wish I could,” Gustav began, but Bill sat up abruptly, interrupting.

“Why can’t you?” he asked. “It’s always ‘I can’t, I can’t’, but you never say why. I trust you. Don’t you trust me too?”

Gustav could see that his friend was upset, and that the conversation could turn very bad very quickly if he didn't get it under control immediately. He pulled the other boy close and squeezed him, a sadness washing over him. He struggled to find the words he needed to say without bringing back the memories he tried desperately every day to forget.

“I promise that when I’m ready, I’ll tell you. I don’t want to make you wait, and I understand if you don’t want to wait for me. But I hope you’ll still be here when I’m ready. And one day, I’ll be able to tell you why I can’t trust you with everything right now.” He kissed the top of Bill’s head.

“Okay,” Bill said reluctantly. “I’ll wait.”

“Thank you,” whispered Gustav, resting his head on Bill’s. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Boys, it’s time for you to get to sleep.” It was David Jost, their manager, mothering them as always. “You have a big day tomorrow, and I don’t want you all worn out for it.”

“Okay,” Bill called back, sighing. The two boys looked at each other. Gustav smiled fondly at his friend and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Bill sat on the couch alone, smiling to himself. Gustav may not have been ready to give Bill all he wanted, but Bill was satisfied with a promise. It was enough for him.

He bounced slightly on the couch, then reached into his pocket for his mobile phone. After dialing a familiar number, Bill walked quickly out onto the balcony. The French door shut with a snap just as Andreas, Bill’s best friend in the entire world, picked up.

“Bill? It’s like two in the morning. Can I call you back tomorrow?” His friend sounded sleepy.

“No! I have to talk to you now,” Bill said, actually stamping a foot on the ground. “It’s important!”

“Can I at least go get some coffee first?” Andreas groaned. “I can tell you’re going to take a while with whatever it is, and I might as well be awake for it.”

“Okay,” Bill said. “Call me back when you’re done.”

After hanging up the phone, Bill paced impatiently around the tiny balcony. He knew he would never get to sleep unless he shared his big news with somebody, and he knew that, no matter how tired he was, Andreas would share in his excitement. The blond boy had only been telling Bill for about seven years that he would end up with a boy eventually. The thought of Bill with a boy – not just any boy, but his bandmate Gustav – was absurd, yet it sent an unexpected warm curl of happiness through his stomach. Andreas would be pleased to hear that he had been right, after all.

Bill’s happy thoughts were disrupted by the chirping of his mobile phone. Bill looked, saw Andreas’s name flashing on the display, and quickly answered.

"Now, Bill, what was so important that you had to call me now? You know how late it is, right?"

“It’s like two in the morning,” Bill replied in a pretty good imitation of his friend’s sleepy voice. Andreas recognized the imitation and laughed.

“Well, you’ve got me up now. So what is it?”

"Mmmmmm…you'llneverbelieveitAndiIhaveaboyfriendkindof!" Bill spat out quickly as possible, not able to hold in his excitement. He was relieved to finally get it out.

Andreas, having been friends with Bill for years, was used to the way his friend talked when he was excited. He managed to extract meaning from the mishmash of words with little difficulty. "With that crazy lifestyle of yours? Who is it?"

"You know."

"I do not!”

“Wellll…he’s wonderful, he’s sweet, he’s smart, and…you’ve seen him on your television,” Bill said, trying to draw out the suspense a bit longer.

“C'mon, Bill! Tell me! I really don’t know.”

"Gustav," Bill said happily.

"No way,” Andreas said. “…really?"

"Well, kind of. I mean like, I dunno, he’s not technically my boyfriend. I mean, he wouldn’t use that word probably. But that’s just because he’s not ready for that yet. But he will be! And he likes me."

"Are you sure he's not just messing with your head?"

"Andreas, he wouldn't do that," Bill said, exasperated. “This is Gustav, remember?”

"True. So... does Tom know?"

"Psssh, Tom. He knows we’ve been, you know, hanging out, kind of. Spending time together. But he doesn’t know more than that. You know how he is. He already yelled at me about our fans getting the wrong idea or something."

"Glad I don't have a brother," Andreas said, amused.

"Andi! I love Tomi! He just takes his role as older brother a bit…seriously, is all.” Bill sounded defensive.

"Oh, trust me, I know. I've known him long enough to figure that out. Remember when he was convinced that I was flirting with you?"

Bill laughed. “How many times did he try to beat you up?”

“If he had had any sense at all, he would have realized that I don’t go for dark-haired boys. Sorry hon,” Andreas said, without a hint of remorse in his voice. Bill smiled and began to respond when a knock on the French door interrupted. It was Gustav.

“Sorry Andreas. I have to go. Gustav just knocked on the door,” Bill said hurriedly, motioning to the boy inside that he would be done in a moment.

“Go to your prince,” said Andreas, sounding amused. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Bill hung up and slipped inside.

“It’s past your bedtime,” he said to Gustav, wagging a finger at him mockingly.

“Yours too, motormouth,” Gustav replied. “You heard David. You need to go to sleep.”

“Yes, mother,” Bill said, wrapping his arms loosely around Gustav’s waist and pecking the shorter boy’s cheek. Gustav gave him a brief hug, then disentangled himself.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Bill,” he said, heading toward his room. “For real this time. No more shenanigans.” Bill mock-pouted, but headed toward his own room without complaint.

This was how their unusual friendship continued, for another sixteen months. Then came the interview that changed everything.

Boys in Trees - Bill/Gustav - PG

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 03:31:19 GMT

TITLE: Boys in Trees
AUTHOR: nyssa, chaos_im_system
RATING: PG
PAIRINGS: Bill/Gustav
SUMMARY: Ever wondered why Bill ended up on Starsearch…?
DISCLAIMER: THIS WOULD BE AMAZINGLY CUTE IF IT EVER HAPPENED. But I don’t think it did. 
COMMENTS: A ficlet about Baby!Gustav and Baby!Bill.

The twins were having their 13th birthday party. They had decided to keep it small, partially because most of the other children at school weren’t too fond of them. They had only invited two boys, and only Gustav, the shy blond boy they had recently befriended, showed up. The other one, Georg, had been dragged away on vacation the day before.

The cake had been cut, the presents had been opened, and now Bill, Tom, and Gustav were alone in the living room, entertaining themselves. The twins’ mother and stepfather had decided to go out for a little while, leaving the boys to watch after themselves (“like big boys”, the twins’ mother had said affectionately, to their great embarrassment; didn’t she know that they had been big boys for a long time already?).

“This is no fun without Georg,” sighed Tom, absentmindedly twisting a lock of hair in his fingers. The tiny boy had decided to dread his hair only a few months earlier; it was at the stage where it looked like his head had sprouted dozens of short, thick, brown worms.

Bill, his twin brother, nodded in agreement. Tom’s decision to dread his hair had hurt him a little bit, even though he didn’t quite realize it yet. They had spent their entire childhood being identical, and it was a little confusing for things to change so suddenly.

“So…” started Gustav, shuffling his feet. The twins both looked over at him. “Um. What do we do now?”

“We could…call somebody,” suggested Bill half-heartedly. “Like prank calls?”

Tom made a scornful noise. “Please,” he said, with a pained look. “Prank calling is for babies. We’re teenagers now. We should call girls!”

Bill and Gustav exchanged a look as the dreadlocked boy rocketed out of the room. Bill picked up the living room phone just as Tom picked up the kitchen phone.

“I’m dialing now!! You’d better come in here so you can see how the master talks to girls!”

Bill covered the receiver and yelled back, “You’re just going to hang up when she picks up. I’m not wasting my energy.”

There was silence as Tom dialed the number. Then, the phone began to ring. Gustav and Bill sat smushed together in a large armchair, both trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to eavesdrop.

Suddenly: “Hello?”

“Um…Addie?” Tom’s voice sounded tiny and weak. Bill and Gustav looked at each other with wide eyes. Tom hadn’t called any girl. He had called the most popular girl in their year.

“Who is this?” The girl on the other end sounded impatient.

“Um…this is Tom Kaulitz? I sit behind you in class?”

“Oh. What do you want?” she asked.

There was a long silence, which was suddenly broken by a stifled snicker. Bill looked quickly over at Gustav, who was straining to hold back giggles. The dark-haired boy shook his head frantically, to no avail. Gustav suddenly burst into loud laughter, which for some reason caused Bill to do the same. There was the click of a phone being hung up. Tom came flying into the room just as Gustav tossed his phone back on the cradle.

“What was that for??” he screeched, grabbing his brother’s arm roughly. “I was talking to her, wasn’t I?” Bill squeaked, and Tom shook him.

"Tom! It's my birthday, so you have to be nice!!"

"It's my birthday too, so no, I don't! And you ruined it! She was about to talk to me, but you just had to interrupt, didn't you?"

"I didn't know I was interrupting!" Bill squeaked.

"Bill, when two people are talking, and you interrupt, it's called interrupting."

"Yeah, well, it's not like you really had a chance with her - you're not her type." Bill wrenched his arm away and massaged the red spot caused by Tom’s grip.

"And I suppose you think she like guys who wear makeup?"

"At least we’d have something in common!" Bill thundered, shoving Tom, who shoved back.

The twins were saved from an all-out brawl by Gustav, who suddenly sat down in the middle of the carpet, pointed at Bill, and said, “Truth or dare!”.

This was so unexpected that both boys turned to look, mid-shove.

“What?” said Bill, confused.

“I said, truth or dare. It’s a party. You’re supposed to play games at a party. And this will be more fun than watching you two beat each other up.”

There was a silence, then Tom grinned and plopped down next to Gustav. “You’re on! And Bill, I’m gonna get you back for interrupting me.” Bill frowned and sat on the other side of Gustav, far away from his brother.

“Now, Bill, truth or dare?” repeated Gustav, clearly relieved that the tension in the room was lessening.

“How about….truth,” said Bill. Tom snorted.

“Only girls pick truth. I’ll show you how a real man plays this game! Dare me to do something.” Gustav started to say something, but Bill interrupted him.

“Fine! You want manly? I dare you to take your manly self upstairs and put on mom’s best dress! And heels, and makeup! See how manly you are then!” Bill crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

“Fine!” said Tom, standing up with a hmph. “I’ll even wear her pearls…and I’ll still be more manly than you!” He thundered up the stairs and disappeared. Bill and Gustav looked at each other in silence.

"... You picked truth, right?" Gustav mumbled quietly, finally breaking the silence that hung between them.

Bill snapped out of his daze and nodded.

"Huh? Oh…yeah...truth. Ask away!" He smiled. Already he could feel his bad mood, brought on by constant bickering with his brother, melting away.

"Um... so... I mean... why do you wear all that... you know... makeup?" he asked shyly, averting his eyes from Bill's.

"Why? Um...I guess I just want to look different... better... I don't know. I just like it," Bill said, somewhat surprised. He had never really given it much thought before.

"Oh. I think it’s neat.”

"You're not just saying that, are you?"

"Why would I do that?" Gustav asked, looking genuinely confused.

"I don't know..." Bill mumbled, slightly embarrassed about doubting his friend.

"I...I think it looks good..." Gustav trailed off quietly.

There was another long silence. Outside, crickets began to chirp, signaling the beginning of nighttime. Bill coughed.

“Tom has been up there an awfully long time,” he remarked. “I’d, uh, better go check on him.” Before the other boy could say anything, Bill got up and climbed the stairs in search of his brother.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Bill ducked into the bathroom and was surprised to see his reflection was rather red-cheeked and flustered looking. He took a few deep, surprisingly shaky breaths before continuing to his mother’s bedroom in search of his brother.

“Hey, pretty lady!” Bill taunted, bursting through his mother’s bedroom door, but stopped short when he took in the scene in front of him.

Tom was not, in fact, a pretty lady. He wasn’t a lady at all, for that matter. He was lying on their mother’s bed, still in his regular clothing and flipping idly through a magazine.

“You didn’t put on the dress!” Bill screeched. “You were supposed to put on the dress!”

“Yeah…about that. I decided I was man enough to take a punch instead of putting on some sissy dress.” Tom looked up at his brother with a smirk.

“Fine then, let me punch you!” Bill jumped onto the bed, making his brother bounce slightly. “This is payback for calling me a girl!” He grabbed Tom’s arm and punched him as hard as he could.

“Ouch!” Tom yanked away, glaring at Bill and rubbing his arm where he had been hit. “That hurt!”

“So much for being a man,” Bill teased, skipping out of reach. “I guess you’re not so manly after all!”

Tom let out a strangled snarl and dove after his brother. Both boys came barreling down the stairs, startling Gustav, who had obviously been deep in thought.

“What happened to the dress?” he asked, looking Tom up and down.

“Mister Manly decided he was too manly for a dress, so I had to punch him for chickening out of the dare.”

“I think you broke my arm!!” Tom complained, rubbing it again.

“So much for being big and tough, huh Tom?” Gustav commented, grinning at the dreadlocked boy.

“You shut up,” Tom responded, with no real animosity.

Gustav decided not to retaliate. “It’s your turn,” he said mildly to Tom, half a smile on his face.

“I…don’t like that grin,” Bill said, eyeing Tom. The dreadlocked boy was looking at his brother with a positively evil glint in his eye.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for breaking my arm,” he said.

“Please,” Bill said, rolling his eyes. “I barely touched you.”

“Whatever,” said Tom. “If you think you’re so much manlier than me, with your makeup and your…your hair gel, I’ve got one for you. No picking ‘truth’ this time, sissy boy!”

“Fine,” Bill said. “Bring it on.”

“I dare you…” Tom said, drawing out the suspense. “…to spend the night in Georg’s treehouse…alone!”

Bill laughed. “Okay, sure. That’s not scary at all.”

Immediately, Tom looked at Gustav and shook his head sadly.

“Poor boy…doesn’t even know…”

“What?” Bill looked from Tom to Gustav, who shrugged. “What don’t I know?”

“We had the news on at dinner last night. If you hadn’t been such a pig, stuffing your face like eating was going out of style, you might have heard…” Tom trailed off.

“What?? What was on the news?” Bill leaned forward, desperate to hear.

“Well, I mean, if you’re brave enough, it shouldn’t even matter…but, I mean, it’s your funeral, and I’m not wearing a suit to it.” Tom shrugged and got up, heading toward the kitchen for a snack. Bill hurriedly scrambled after him, catching up just as Tom reached the fridge.

“What was on the news??”

Tom glanced back at his brother, a pickle spear dangling from his mouth.

“Oh, that? It was nothing. Just something about a mental patient escaping from the hospital down the road. He had some kind of, I dunno, touching disease. He groped a bunch of girls and got in trouble for it. Better watch out, sissy boy. With all that makeup, he might think you’re a girl!”

Bill caught his reflection in a pitcher nearby and frowned. He didn’t think he looked like a girl, even if he was wearing eyeliner.

“Gustav heard about it,” Tom said, as the blond boy entered the room. “…didn’t you, Gustav?” Gustav looked from Bill to Tom, then held his hands up diplomatically.

“I don’t know anything either way,” he said carefully.

“…I don’t believe you,” Bill told Tom.

“Fine,” said Tom, shrugging and munching another pickle spear. “Like I said, your funeral.”

“I’ll go right now!” Bill said defiantly. “Let me just go get a blanket and a flashlight.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Tom, crossing the room and guiding his brother toward the back door. “You get to sleep out there all alone…with no blanket, and no flashlight! Now c'mon!” With that, he dragged Bill outside by the arm; Gustav took up the read, shutting the door behind them. As they walked down the driveway, Tom turned to Bill with a grin.

“I don’t think you’ll do it.”

“Bet I will!” Bill replied quickly.

"You wanna bet? How about this? If you don't stay out there all night, alone, you'll have to show the whole world that you’re a sissy boy.”

“Oh?” asked Bill, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” said Tom, thinking quickly. “You’ll have to…try out for Star Search! And I get to tell you what to wear and what to sing. And you’d better believe it’s gonna be girly."

Bill laughed.

"You don’t think I’ll stay out there? What’s in it for me, if I do?"

"I'll do the same, unless you can think of something better," Tom replied.

"You're on,” Bill agreed.

They arrived at Georg’s house. The empty house was dark and silent. Tom opened the gate to Georg's backyard and ushered his younger brother in. In the moonlight, they could see the study wooden structure of the treehouse tucked within the surrounding branches.

Gustav noticed a look of nervousness flash across Bill’s face, but before Gustav could say anything, it was gone, replaced with a look of determination.

Tom grinned and swept his arm towards the tree. "Go on ahead. Just don't cry. The girl-groping lunatic might hear you."

Bill shook his head. "Whatever. You two have fun doing...whatever. I'll be fine. I'm not a baby."

He climbed up into the tree, and Tom started to walk away. He stopped mid-stride, however, to call back to his brother.

"By the way, I think Georg has some porno mags up there you can use to beat the psycho up with, if he comes to visit."

"Good night, Tom." Bill yelled from the wooden fortress as the two older boys walked back to the Kaulitz residence in relative silence.

As they opened the door, Gustav suddenly let out a chuckle. "Would you really sing? If he stays out there, I mean.”

"He'll be back within an hour." Tom stated plainly.

“And what if he isn’t?” asked Gustav, looking suddenly worried.

“He will, don’t worry.” Tom insisted as he headed back into the living room and turned on their video game system. “Bet you can’t beat me at racing!”

Gustav entered the living room, frowning.

“Tom, it’s supposed to be cold out tonight.”

“It’s nice enough, he’ll be fine.” The other boy didn’t even glance up from the screen, where he was setting up the game.

With a small sigh, Gustav settled down next to Tom. He didn’t want to be the reason Bill lost the bet, but he couldn’t help feeling oddly worried for his friend. Gustav knew perfectly well that there was no psycho on the loose, and that Bill was perfectly safe in the treehouse.

Still, he could help but feel a bit sad imagining Bill all alone in the dark treehouse, without a blanket. Tom may have insisted that it was ‘nice enough’ outside, but Gustav felt differently. It wasn’t freezing, but it was too cold to be sleeping outside without any blankets.

“Hello? Racing games are no fun if I’m the only car moving!” Tom’s voice cut sharply into Gustav’s thoughts. He shook his head.

“Sorry…I was thinking.”

“Well, quit thinking and drive!”

Time wore on in this manner until it was almost two in the morning. Gustav had decided that he would chuck his controller at Tom’s head if the other boy even thought about continuing to play the game. Fortunately, the controller was spared, as Tom let out a huge yawn suddenly.

“I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gustav agreed quickly.

After a quick shuffling of furniture, the center of the living room was cleared and sleeping bags were unrolled. The boys both settled into their respective places and lay down. Gustav hoped that Tom wouldn’t make a lot of conversation, because he just wanted to relax and get some sleep.

Tom, to Gustav’s relief, did not make a lot of conversation. He lay in silence, tossing occasionally. Eventually, his breathing slowed and deepened. Gustav, however, couldn’t sleep.

He kept picturing Bill, looking tiny and lost, huddled in the corner of an impossibly large and forbidding treehouse. Gustav knew, logically, that Georg’s treehouse wasn’t all that big. The few times the boys played there, the four of them had had a hard time all fitting inside of it. Logic didn’t make him feel any better, though.

After about half an hour of this kind of thinking, Gustav sighed quietly, so as not to disturb Tom, then got up. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to bring Bill a blanket, and maybe some hot cocoa, and keep him company for a while. He rolled up his sleeping bag, then headed into the kitchen to look for a snack for Bill.

Meanwhile, in the treehouse, Bill was sitting quietly, concentrating on the shadows cast in the small square of moonlight on the floor. He couldn't stop wondering if maybe Tom wasn't lying. The cold kept him awake, and every rustling leaf made him more alert.

”Stupid Tom...” he muttered to himself. He couldn't sleep, and was becoming increasingly bored. There wasn't anything to do but just sit there, and it seemed the longer he sat there, the more it sounded like someone was outside.

He shook the thought away and started humming to himself, trying to push thoughts of lunatics out of his head. Suddenly, he was sure he heard someone out there. This was no scraping tree branch or rustling owl.

”I don't look like a girl, I don't look like a girl...” he repeated quietly to himself, trying desperately to wipe off his eyeliner as he waited for what felt like certain death.

Suddenly: "Bill?"

His first thought was, ‘Oh God, he’s stalking me!’ Then his brain caught up to his nerves. It wasn’t a psycho at all. It was…"Gustav?" he responded shakily, peering out of the square window.

Sure enough, he could see his friend below, the moonlight glinting off of his blond hair.

"I...uh…brought you some stuff. Don't want you to get sick, you know..."

The thought that he might lose the bet crossed his mind, but suddenly, seeing Gustav was more important. The thought that Gustav had bothered to check up on him made him strangely happy.

The other boy was attempting to push a bulging schoolbag through the door from as far away as possible. Bill watched him for a moment, then said, "You could just come up here, you know."

"But won't you lose - "

"I don’t care. There'll be other bets. Besides, you don’t have to stay until morning. "

Gustav hesitated for a minute, then seemed to decide something. He nodded.

“But just for a little while,” he said, glancing around, then climbing the ladder quickly. A moment later, his head popped through the door, followed by his schoolbag and the sleeping bag. Bill quickly got up and helped his friend with the bulky items.

After getting everything through the door, he then grabbed Gustav’s hand and helped pull him through. A moment passed.

“Thanks,” said Gustav. He looked down, then dropped Bill’s hand quickly, as though surprised they were still connected. He moved over to the pile of things and began unzipping his schoolbag. “I, um…brought some food. Thought you might be…hungry.”

Bill watched Gustav, noticing that he was rummaging in his bag a little too intently. Bill was still watching him when Gustav happened to glance up briefly. The two looked at each other for a split second before they simultaneously looked away.

“So, um...,” Bill began, breaking the silence that lay between them. “What did you bring?” He settled on the floor next to the blond boy

“Some hot chocolate,” Gustav said, handing him a warm flask. “And some leftover cake and snacks.” A bag of food was thrust into Bill’s lap. He unscrewed the lid of the flask and drank appreciatively, enjoying the warmth.

“Thank you, Gustav,” said Bill, wiping a bit of stray chocolate from his lip. As he did so, he could see a flush creeping up Gustav’s cheeks; Bill suddenly remembered how he had seen an identical redness in his own cheeks earlier. The thought made Bill shiver suddenly. Gustav reached out and grabbed the sleeping bag, pulling it around Bill.

“I can’t believe Tom really expected you to spend the night out here with no coat or blanket or anything.” He looked angry, and Bill felt something warm flutter inside his chest.

“Thank you,” he repeated softly, drawing the sleeping bag closer. Despite the new warmth, however, Bill found himself shivering again, and he suspected it had little to do with the temperature.

“Are you still cold?” Gustav asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“I guess so,” said Bill, trying to smile. Gustav immediately shifted closer and wrapped the sleeping bag around both of them.

“Better?” he asked, looking carefully at Bill.

“Yeah,” Bill replied, relaxing. The two sat together in silence. After a moment, Bill shifted, turning to look more fully at Gustav. “Tom was just joking about that lunatic, right?”

The other boy nodded, and Bill sighed with relief. “I thought so. But I couldn’t help feeling a little bit scared anyway,” he admitted.

“Still scared?” asked Gustav with a smile.

Bill shook his head.

“Good.”

Outside, a dog barked. Bill scooted closer. He was glad, somehow, that Tom had dared him to stay outside, and that Gustav had come to check on him. He didn’t know why he felt so much better when Gustav was around, but he liked it. Bill’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears. He glanced up at Gustav, and was surprised to see that Gustav was already looking back at him, seemingly deep in thought again.

Suddenly, Gustav leaned forward and kissed Bill softly. Startled, Bill looked up at Gustav, who looked back with darkened eyes. Neither boy moved for what felt like forever.

Then, ignoring his brain, which was telling him to stop, Bill reached up and kissed Gustav back, putting his arms around the other boy’s neck and weaving his fingers through the blond curls. Bill felt like he was hardly in control of his body, like he was on the outside looking in, doing things that he wasn’t telling his body to do. After a slight hesitation, Gustav slid his hands around Bill’s waist, drawing him closer.

A few minutes passed in this manner, until finally Gustav leaned his head on Bill’s forehead, eyes closed, content.

“…Gustav?” said Bill hesitantly.

“Mm?”

“Um…have you ever…kissed anybody before?”

Gustav let out a quiet chuckle.

“No.”

“Oh,” Bill replied. “Me either.”

Gustav grinned, and kissed Bill on the nose. Bill giggled. He couldn’t help but think that this felt right, and it was totally unexpected. Following an impulse, he experimentally kissed Gustav again. Yes, it felt good. Bill liked it, and that outweighed the fact that Gustav was a boy. But he liked more than the kissing, he realized. Visions floated in his head: Gustav laughing at a joke, Gustav playing his drums, Gustav smiling at Bill in that incredibly genuine way he had…

Bill kissed him again, and this time, Gustav pushed back and elongated the lip lock. After that, it became hard for Bill to think about anything but ensuring that his lips remained firmly on Gustav’s as much as possible.

Bill was unsure how much time had passed since Gustav had first kissed him, although eventually he drew away, with some effort, and looked out the treehouse window. It was beginning to get light outside. He looked back at Gustav.

“We should, um, get some sleep,” he said reluctantly. Gustav started to get up and leave, but Bill reached out and stopped him. “Stay with me? Just for a little while. Just until I fall asleep?”

“Okay,” said Gustav, smiling. Bill’s stomach fluttered at the sight.

The two lay down on the floor, pulling the sleeping bag tightly around them to block out the cold. Bill turned to face Gustav, who was looking back with a contented expression.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” Bill said, hesitantly touching Gustav’s face. Gustav leaned into the touch.

“I was worried about you.”

Bill smiled and rolled over, drawing Gustav’s arm around him. The two lay like this for a long while, until finally Bill drifted off to sleep.

What felt like mere minutes later, there was a loud bang as the treehouse’s trap door flew open. Bill’s eyes snapped open and were met with bright sunlight, streaming in from the window.

“Oh no,” he groaned, rolling over to see Gustav, snoring lightly next to him.

“Well, well, well,” said a voice from behind him. Bill rolled back over to see his brother standing in the treehouse, his arms crossed. “Looks like somebody can’t even handle one night outside alone!”

Bill said nothing. Beside him, Gustav stirred.

“Wuzzgoinon?” he asked sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Then he caught sight of Tom. “…oh.”

“What, did you get scared?” Tom taunted, smirking. “Poor little baby Bill, scared of the big bad boogeyman.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bill said, annoyed.

“He didn’t ask me to come up here, Tom,” said Gustav, defending Bill. Tom shrugged.

“Sorry, but a bet’s a bet. I’ve already got a song picked out for you to sing, Bill!” The dreadlocked boy moved toward the trap door and began lowering himself down.

“Who cares? It’s just a stupid song! It doesn’t mean anything,” Bill retorted.

“Whatever, sissy boy. You’d better hurry up and come home so you can start learning your song.” Tom disappeared down the ladder, leaving a ringing silence behind him.

After a moment, Bill broke the silence as he laughed nervously as he glanced over at Gustav, "Well... maybe I'll end up famous."

"Yeah..." Gustav chuckled in response.

The two locked eyes, and they didn’t need to say a word. Bill may have lost the bet, but he found something worth so much more.

FIN

This was our first collaboration ever in the TH fandom, so hopefully you liked it! :)

My Heart Starts Missing a Beat (1/1) - Tom/Bill - PG-13/12

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 00:26:20 GMT

Title: My Heart Starts Missing a Beat (1/1)
Author: chaos_im_system
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own ANYTHING. And the lyrics aren't mine either.
Warnings: nothing but drunkenness
Summary: The twins embrace the idea that alcohol is a wonderful excuse for what they really want - because it would never happen sober. Songfic - Heart by the Pet Shop Boys
Author's notes: My first Tom/Bill fic... kinda spur of the moment. I was just listening to the song, and had to write SOMETHING, and they seemed like the logical pair.

Every time I see you something happens to me
Like a chain reaction between you and me
My heart starts missing a beat
My heart starts missing a beat
Every time...

One drunken serenade of many. I never tire of them, because I know its the only way anything would ever be able to work. In a sober state, I'd never be able to confront this issues. You continue to sing to me, and I grin.

Across the living room, Georg and Gustav laugh away at something on the television and continue drinking. I reach for my own glass and take another swig of alcohol. I just need to get a little more drunk to drown out my conscience.

If I didn't love you, I would look around for someone else
But every time I see you, you have the same effect
My heart starts missing a beat
My heart starts missing a beat
Every time

"Billa..." I mutter, pulling you closer to me.

You let out a drunken giggle and lean over to my ear.

"I mean alllll of it, Tomi. I don't care anymore, 'cause I love YOU. Yooou know that right?"

Every time I hear your heart beat next to me
I'm in love with you, I mean what I say
I'm in love with you, and you don't know what it means to be with you

You stop mid-song for a moment, and a quizzical look casts over your features. "But I don't know either. You know, I wanna know. I wanna know what you're really like, Tomi. I really wanna know. But that's the one thing YOUUU won't let me know, 'cause we're brothers. I don't caaare... Tomi, really, I don't."

I just let you ramble on. Our bandmates are too busy drinking to pay attention, and we could always play it off the next day if they did say something. I'm drunk, but not drunk enough to know that it can't happen. No matter... no matter how much I'd like it, if I can't do it sober, it's not worth the worry.

I love you.

Or am I in love with you?

Either way...

"Not gonna happen, Billa. You mean too much just to be another notch on my bedpost." I state quietly.

"You don't HAVE ANYYYY, TOMI. Stop pretending, 'cause I knoooow. I'm your twin, so I know eeeeverything about you, remember?" you giggle again, followed by a hiccup, and another giggle.

"And that's just why it's not going to happen, Billa. No matter how drunk you try and get me, I'm still your older brother."

I say this, but you pull away, crossing your arms, pouting like a child, and I can't resist that. I move myself closer to you and take your chin in my hand.

"Billa..."

Every time I see you, no matter what we do
There's a strange reaction, can you feel it too?
My heart starts missing a beat
My heart starts missing a beat
Every time

You shake my hand away and lean towards my ear.

"Tell me, Tomi. Dooo you?" You whisper, your voice slurring a bit from the alcohol, "I think you do... or you wouldn't let me get away with this..."

One kiss. Two. And I push you away gently.

"Billa, go to sleep. It's late, you're drunk.."

"I don't want to go anywhere. Lets sleep here." You mumble, dramatically spreading your arms and laying down, stretching your legs on the rest of the couch, resting your head in my lap.

"Tomiiiii, you love me, right?" you inquire softly, tugging on one of my dreads.

"Not if you don't stop that, Billa..."

"Mm... fine." You mumble, releasing my hair, and instead take my hand.

My heart skips, and I mentally shake it away. It would never work.

"I wish this could be real, Tomi... So.. maybe we should just get drunk more often." you laugh softly, but I hear the tinge of pain behind it. Apparently, you're not as out of it as I thought.

"Mm.. but you're a good big brother. This way we'll have each other forever."

We'll always have each other... I guess thats right. Boundaries mean I can't hurt him, he can't hate me, and we'll have each other forever.

I absentmindedly run my free hand through your dark hair as you drift off to sleep. I notice Georg and Gustav were pretty quiet and the television was turned off, and my own eyes start to drift shut. I'd go to turn off the light, but I'm not going to disturb you.

Drifting off into sleep, I know this is the closest I'll ever get to those thoughts I know I can't have. Tomorrow we'll go back to being normal brothers. We won't talk about this, because we're drunk. That's excuse enough to ignore the fact that it ever happened.

Tomorrow we'll be sober and go back to how we're supposed to be. I won't blame the alcohol - I know there's something behind it all, something more than the connection we should have... but I can't do that to him.

Lets not fool ourselves. It doesn't matter how I feel, because it could only bring trouble. As if we don't have enough to worry about already...

"Love you, Billa..."

Twisted Rainbow (1/1) - Bill/Gustav PG-13/12

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 22:59:50 GMT

Title: Twisted Rainbow
Author: chaos_im_system
Pairing(s): Bill/Gustav
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Warnings: allusions to self injury
Summary: Bill thinks of all the things he's holding back from his twin. He knows Tom wouldn't understand. That's why he has Gustav.
Author's notes: This is just a one-shot I had to write. This is really light on the Billstav, but its there. Depending on how I feel about his oneshot, it might develop into an actual story sometime... I like it enough at the moment.

Even if you are my brother, I know you'd look down on me for this. A few offhand comments were enough to tell me you'd never understand.

"Why do these girls feel the need to TELL us this crap? Boohoo, your music helped me stop being a dumb emo bitch.... Pshh. An attention-whore is an attention-whore."

"Yeah, you'd rather just have a whore, Tom. We already know that. If we find any pictures of naked chicks in the fanmail, you'll be the first to know."

You'd never understand. The thing that helps them stop is the same thing that keeps me going.

You'd never understand why I need to feel this... or the feelings it alleviates.

I wish you would, I wish so bad that I could talk to you, but knowing you and your need to be the protective older brother, you'd try and make me stop. But I can't. And you'd probably think I'm trying to kill myself, when it's really the opposite. I can function like a normal human being because of this twisted behavior.

Make me stop, and I'll simply give in to the yearning to curl up in a ball in my room and never come out, afraid of everything, feeling like I'm being torn apart from the inside out.

It's a good thing there's more in the world than you - even though you ARE my world. I just can't let you worry about me. I want you to keep believing we'll be together forever. Bringing up our actual physical states might make you doubt that.

But will we really be together forever?

You have girls, and I have... someone who understands the things you can't.

I could never tell you that. I'm afraid... you'd feel betrayed. Feel like I've replaced you. But the feelings I feel for him are completely different than the ones I feel for you.

You wouldn't understand that either. I sometimes wonder if you've ever really loved anyone - and not in the way that you love me.
It's those thoughts that make me almost certain you're not telling me things too. But it's probably for my own good. You're entitled to your secrets too.

You'd probably hate him, and I can't risk our entire careers on something like that. I love him, but I love you too, Tomi. Just in a different way.

I just won't tell you. If you ask, I'll tell you. But its like me. I won't ask you what you're not telling me, because I'm afraid of what I'll hear. I don't expect you to ask unless you have a reason to.

I could never be with someone I couldn't trust with my secrets - so I simply traded secrets. I love him enough that I can't lie. If he sees my scars, he has to know. But I know his secret too - we feel the same need. I don't question it. I don't fight it. He needs his own self-inflicted hell at times, when beating away on his fortress of drums doesn't relieve enough.

It just fits. We make a twisted rainbow... my red and purple, his black, blue, green, yellow, and all the colors in between...

I love him.

He's the sane one, remember? And if he's sane, then I know I'm at least not insane. That wouldn't matter to you, I don't think You'd still think I'm crazy, unstable, stressed out.

And of course, I am. But in this lifestyle, aren't we all? I'd probably be the same, even if we were still a bunch of nobodies back home, because it's not what my head tells me. It's just how I feel.

You wouldn't understand how I feel in his arms, Tomi. Not the way our hands entwine.

But it's never the same. You're my twin, my other half. The one who senses what I'm feeling, even if you're not quite sure what the matter is. Gustav is the one I want to be with, the one I tell these things to. He's the one who knows what it's like.

You criticize these girls who write out their feelings whole heartedly, but in some ways I wish I could be like them. Have some anonymous way of telling you everything in my heart and soul, but the spotlight shining in my eyes holds me back. Everything I say is under a microscope.

You wouldn't understand that I can love you both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Comments? This was just something I had to write up or I was sure I'd go insane. It's really light.. But the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of Billstav -- even in the other fic I'm working on, I keep thinking "Gee, if only..." So I might write some more in the future.
Reader response also plays into it, of course.

Forever Yours (4/?) Georg/Gustav PG13/12

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 04:19:09 GMT

Title: Forever Yours (4/?)
Author:
chaos_im_system

Pairing(s): Georg/Gustav
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, don't have permission, all that jazz...
Warnings: Just some cursing...
Summary: Gustav can only tell himself he hates him... even if it is a lie.
Author's notes: Took me a while - got thrown off track by some smaller stories I hope to actually finish sometime... I think I rewrote this about four or five times, too. Ahaha...

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Several hours later at the hotel, I find myself standing outside of Bill's door with a bag of junk food. I knocked on the door and heard a familiar voice respond.

"Who is it?"

"Die Gummibären, Bill! Now open up!" I joked.

The door opened and a grinning and makeup free Bill held out his hand. I handed him the bag and he opened the door the rest of the way, then grabbed a towel to dry his visibly damp hair with. I found my way through the maze of suitcases and piles of clothing, then sat down on the edge of the bed, looking around.

"You always get the better room, Bill." I laughed, trying to lighten my mood.

He grinned mischievously. "If they gave you all the good rooms, your groupies might never leave, Gusti."

I forced a smile. It happens.

Bill tore open a bag of gummibears and looked at my quizzically as he plopped down on the bed next to me. He pays way too much attention. I just looked down and my hands start tapping at an invisible drum set in front of me.

"Speak up next time. If they're being fuckers, you have every reason to."

I shake my head. He's getting straight to the point, but I'm still not sure how the hell I'm going to say anything.

"I don't have any reason to stop them. They'd just tease me more, and you know it, Bill."

"Don't pretend you couldn't do some serious damage with those." he laughed, nudging my arm.

Again I shook my head, tapping away with more intensity.

"I don't want to hurt anyone, Bill. It's my own fault, so I can't blame them for having fun with it."

"It's not your fault. They're being asses."

"Getting drunk with Georg. My idea. My fault."

"It doesn't mean anything, Gusti."

"It means everything, Bill!" I insisted, a little louder than I meant. My head shot up and for the first time in that entire conversation, my eyes met his.

I noted the slight confusion in his initial gaze turn into an even more perplexed look - I'm sure my eyes were reflecting every last bit of worry and frustration I felt in that moment. I never wanted anyone to know that, but Bill's attentive.

I pulled my eyes away and fixed my eyes on a spot on the wall. He'd drive me insane if I didn't spill now. Here goes.

"Before then, I could be content with thinking I was nothing out of the ordinary. I could conveniently ignore trivial things that would only complicate my life. But now..." I clenched my fists and pressed down in to the mattress next to me, as if I were trying to push the earth itself off its course so we'd all go spinning off into oblivion and I wouldn't be able to continue. No such luck.

"Bill, this isn't me. I'm sure YOU'RE fine with it, you being you and all, but it just isn't ME. At least, that's what I thought... but now I... I don't know."

A pause in the conversation seems to drag on for eternity, until my defenses came tumbling down and I stopped thinking about every single word I said.

"... I think you're over-thinking it, Gustav."

"I'm not you."

"Because you think too much. It's just a pair of lips."

"No, it's not."

"Then you mean it's Georg?"

"Of course not."

"Then it's just a pair of lips."

"I don't want it be him, is the problem."

"And why not?"

"Because he's Georg."

"And you like him?"

"I don't like him."

"Then what?"

"I don't know. I tell myself I hate him."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I can't like him."

"And why not?"

"Because... I just can't."

"That's not an answer. Think about who you're talking to, Gustav."

"You can because you're you."

"No, I can because there's nothing wrong with it."

"I'm not gay."

"Neither am I."

"But you... and then you said... I thought you were just lying about-"

"I said I wasn't gay. I didn't say I didn't like guys. Labels are totally overrated."

"Oh..."

"Sneaky, right?"

"I still can't like him."

"But you do."

"Do not."

"Do too, and you know it."

"It doesn't matter. I just want this to pass."

"You really want that?"

"...Yes."

"But what if he likes you?"

"It doesn't matter.. I don't want this, Bill."

"Why's that?"

"It would fuck up the band, Bill. Besides, I couldn't make him happy. I can't even get over my own issues with this - I'm not dragging him into it."

"..Then you really do care."

"It's his fault."

"But you don't really resent him for it."

"..Yes, I do."

"But you're his friend."

"Right."

"You reaaally make no sense to me, Juschtel. You have girl-logic."

"Maybe it's you who's thinking like a girl."

"Nope. I've got the balls to tell someone I like them."

"You never have."

"I used to like you. So there."

"...Um...gee, Bill..."

"Childhood crush. Don't worry about it." he grinned from behind his veil of shaggy black hair.

I couldn't help but smile back. This entire situation was just too absurd. Another time, another place, and if I wasn't so hung up on me crushing on a guy, Bill would be absolutely perfect - with the one small issue of him not being Georg.

I was laughing at myself now. It's all too absurd. I honestly can't believe the things going on in my head.

"You okay, Juschtel?" Bill chuckled, poking me in the side as I continued to laugh.

I nodded. He wouldn't believe me anyway.

"Yeah yeah, now which movie did you say you wanted to watch?"

He popped another gummibear in his mouth and grinned, shaking his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahahah... I just couldn't help but throw in that last bit. I'm planning to bring Georg back into the picture next chapter... I just have to figure it all out.... This is a lot of fun writing, really! Reviews are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated! I hope you all liked it!

Forever Yours (3/?)

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 03:06:38 GMT

Title: Forever Yours (3/?)
Author:
chaos_im_system

Pairing(s): Georg/Gustav
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, don't have permission, all that jazz...
Warnings: Just some cursing...
Summary: Gustav can only tell himself he hates him... even if it is a lie.
Author's notes:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

At first, I wasn't sure if I would be able to sleep, and I didn't think I did until I woke up.
Great. So now I'm dreaming about being awake all night, wondering what the hell I'm going to do about you.

As I climbed out of my bunk, I caught on to the conversation from the living area.
"Georg, I'm cool if you two have a nasty little lovefest going on, but really, could you NOT do it on the bus?"

"Don't know what you're talking about - the only guy's pants I'd like to get into on this bus are yours, Tom - and I'm pretty sure you've got enough room in those things."

"No chance, man. But seriously dude, he's loooooud!"

I trudge into the room to find Bill laying on the couch, filing his nails, watching Georg and Tom flick chunks of toast at each other as they went on. I opened the fridge, trying to ignore the conversation.

"I'm offended, Georg! You'd seriously pick Tom over ME?" Bill inquired, feigning indignation.

"Tom's got the Escalade, Bill." Georg stated matter of factly.

"Yeah, 'cause he's compensating for something! Ever wonder why he never does the same girl twice?" Bill snickered.

Tom sneered and flicked a chunk of toast in Bill's direction, then he turned his head to as Bill squealed.

"Haha.. what about you, Gustav?"

I simply pulled the orange juice from the refrigerator and shook my head, pouring myself a glass. No way in hell was I getting pulled into this.

"Straight as a rod, Tom. Told you so." Georg chuckled.

I can't say that didn't hurt in more than one way - one that I knew that it wasn't true, and then that I still wasn't going to accept it to be fact.

"You must be one shitty kisser, G." Tom teased.

Face frozen, I put away the juice and tried to leave before my reddening face became even more apparent.

"Awww, shut up, Tom. You're making him blush!" Bill laughed.

Goddamit. That boy is definitely sharper than he acts. I really couldn't do much except set down my glass and go back to my bunk - I'd prefer to take a walk, get some fresh air and clear my head, but with the bus speeding down the road, that wasn't going to do.
Though throwing myself out didn't seem like such a bad idea either. I knew this would come up sooner or later -- those two never let anything like that die.

I tried not to make it seem like I was dashing out, but I was. Just slower, praying to god they wouldn't really notice. They were still going on, and I didn't want to hear any more. I plopped down on my mattress and grabbed my headphones and drumsticks, turning up the volume. I closed my eyes and tapped along with the beat on the pillow. It's really the only other alternative to calm myself down.

If only they'd leave me along long enough. I had a small time of thinking of nothing but the beat playing in my ears, and through my hands but after a minute or two, I felt the weight on my bed change, and my eyes shot open. I pulled the earphones away and directed my attention to the intruder.

"What is it, Bill?"

"Something seems wrong. Are you alright?" he asked, and by the look on his face I knew he wasn't joking around anymore.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Usually, you would just laugh it off and sit down. I know those jokes are totally stupid, but they're not serious, you know that. If it bothers you so bad when they bring that up, just tell them to fuck off, you know? If they know you mean it, they'll stop. And it's not like anyone's really thinking you're-"

"Bill. Please... not now?"

I can still hear them talking clearly in the other room. Not the best time to confide in Bill, but I'm going to explode if I don't. Talking to Georg is not an option. And Tom? Ha. Like I'd give him something else to tease me about. Besides, Bill's more likely to understand.

"Okay?" He shifted uneasily. Goddamit, now he's getting upset with me.

"No, I mean just not now. Later?"

"Alright. But bring food. My room. And we can watch a movie or something! I don't really feel like going out tonight with those buffoons."

I can't hold back a bit of laughter as I hear Georg and Tom protest their new title from the other room. Bill smiled as he left, probably to go do his hair.

I turned my music back on and tapped away again, trying to drown out my next train of thought.
Why the hell can't I just keep that too myself?

But I already know the answer to that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews would be absolutely amazing! They keep me motivated to keep updating. I love writing Gustav, so I still have no idea how many more chapters or this there will be.

New account!

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 21:56:52 GMT

Finally decided to make a new account -- I've been slowly backing out of the realm of fanfiction, but it's kinda hard to give up -- I've spent six or seven year bouncing from one fandom to another, and there's some pretty good authors out there. So I'm going to allow myself to keep reading them, but I'm keeping them all off of my main account for a few reasons. 1. Most of my friends don't read it, and therefore they don't get it. 2. If they keep popping up on my friends list, I'll either skip them all or read them all. I need a healthy dosage. and 3. I like to keep my fangirling to myself for the most part -- especially on the things I like to pretend to hate, or I think I hate to love them...
But no, I'm not a troll. I just needed to separate it from the rest of everything else, because I tend to get emotionally attached to good fanfics, and I start to rant about them and everyone's just "lolwhut?"
XD
So as of now, this journal is simply to join slash comms, read the fics, and comment when I feel like it. Don't expect too much actual posting here.

Correction: don't expect anything set to public. I ramble on a bit in f-locked posts.

I'll probably post my translations of Tokio Hotel lyrics here too -- I've been taking German - my teacher actually introduced me to TH's music- and plan on continuing in college, and translating the lyrics is so much more fun for me than reading someone elses - of course, I compare of lines I get confused about, but I just love it... Especially when I know at least half the words. It's exciting for me, 'cause the language rocks.

Now if only I could remember those alt+XXXX codes for the umlauts...