Chapter Text
“Hey Armstrong!”
The band’s front man turned around in time to see a small group of people disappear into the bar’s back alley, but not before ushering him to follow.
Billie Joe blinked at the door as it swung shut and contemplated leaving the bar to go outside with a couple of strangers. He swayed as he raised his glass to take another sip of the beer in its depths. It was at this particular early hour of the morning…or late hour of the night that he had consumed enough alcohol that it was decided his drink never left his hand, even when he had to take a piss. It was also at this hour, that an ample amount of beer was changing rational thoughts to irrational thoughts, in which Billie concluded that these friendly strangers only wanted an autograph…in the back alley of the bar.
Tossing back the rest of the amber liquid, Billie made a drunken bee line for the door. As soon as he stepped out into the alley his head exploded into blood boiling pain.
***
“Man, where the hell is BJ? I’m ready to blow this joint like a fucking...what’s something you blow?”
Tré bounced his knee as his eyes scanned the room for BJ and he replied to his friend without much thought. “A dick.”
Mike threw his head back and laughed hysterically.
“I think Mikey’s had about one too many beers.” He grabbed for Mike’s drink and it was pulled out of reach.
“Hey man! Get your own.” The drunken bassist drained his beer and slammed the empty bottle on the table and the sound was accompanied with a loud belch. “Where the fuck ‘s Billie?! I’m gonna be sick. Does he know I’m gonna be sick?”
“I don’t know, I swear he went to take a piss like an hour ago.” Tré pushed himself away from the table and eyed his friend suspiciously. “You gonna be alright while I’m gone?”
Mike’s blue eyes widened at the drummer, “Where r’you goin’?”
Tré rolled his own eyes, “To find Billie! Jesus, I can’t believe I’m the freakin’ sober one tonight.”
Mike watched his friend go and tried to remember why the fuck you’re not supposed to eat from the bowl of nuts in the center of the table. His concentration on the matter eventually slipped and he popped a few in his mouth beginning to wonder where exactly the hell nuts came from anyway.
It was somewhere in the mist of his internal disquisition about nuts and their importance in human life that Tré had broken through the crowd of people and found their table again.
Mike’s brows furrowed as he stared up at Tré quizzically…was something missing?
“I can’t find ‘em, must’ve left without us.” Tré spoke to Mike matter of fact like.
It took him a moment to clear the drunken haze long enough but finally he got it, “Billie!” Billie was missing.
“Yeah, Billie.” Tré leaned down to help his friend stand.
“He left us?”
“Yeah, I tried his phone, must’ve shut it off.”
Somewhere in the back of Mike’s brain; the sober, rational part of Mike’s brain, an alarm went off, but was smothered to silence with the overpowering bliss of intoxication.
Mike leaned on his friend all the way to the car where he was dumped in the backseat. Before he knew it he was drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
***
It was the pain in his head that woke him up first. Billie Joe groaned when it grew stronger with his waking body. It was agonizing, like shards of glass embedded deep in his skull.
The hangover was bad, he knew what that felt like, but it was something else that was causing this amount of hurt, something worse.
He inhaled deeply in attempt to clear his mind of the fog that unconsciousness left and stopped when the sharp smell of gasoline and rubber deepened the pain of his headache.
Confusion settled in somewhere through the haze of left over dreamscapes and he tried to open his eyes but blamed it on being too tired when he couldn’t.
He worked his mouth instead and grew more confused when he found his tongue felt dry and swollen against his pallet.
Confusion deepened into panic when eyes still wouldn’t open and when his brain told his hands to move and feel what was wrong and they wouldn’t move either.
Alarm spread fast and his arms and legs only struggled to find they were bound together smugly.
It was about then memory came flooding back to the night at the bar. They were celebrating the release of their new album, him and the guys, he had left to use the bathroom…and there was that group of kids.
Billie’s thoughts stopped when he heard muffled voices somewhere outside and car doors slamming. It was then he understood he was in the trunk of a car.
He bit down on the cloth between his teeth and involuntarily shuddered when he felt the car lurch into motion.