Killing You Softly

Well I was on a roll, so I thought I\'d go ahead and post this chapter. Let me know what you think. A bit angst, and there is a cutting scene in this one. Evil Brian will be at it again!

Thanks to those of you who reviewed chapter one. I know it was a bit confusing, but it should be fixed. Thanks again.

Chapter 3


The two members of the band Reflex watched cautiously as Tristan and Brian made their way out of the room and down the hall. When they disappeared into another secluded space, Thomas and John headed for the near empty conference room. Upon seeing the crying blond on the floor, they instantly fell to his side. John wrapped a comforting arm around the young singer and squeezed him protectively against his chest. The brunette, unknowingly providing the listless man a lifeline to reality, watched as Mikael buried himself into him. Another piece of John\'s heart broke as he roughly wiped a wandering tear from his eye.

Thomas smoothed a caressing hand up and down the seemingly comatose singer\'s back and looked worriedly at the guitarist. When heavy brown eyes met steel blue, words were spoken without a sound. The brunette pulled Mikael even tighter to his chest, allowing the weeping blond room to untangle his legs. Once his limbs were no longer tucked beneath him, John leaned forward and carefully maneuvered his arm under Mikael\'s knees. He grunted slightly as he lifted the dead weight of the blond. Thomas motioned John forward and when the made it through the door, the other silently followed. Before completely exiting the room, John leered down the hallway determining whether or not it was safe; he hurried out into the corridor. The group\'s guitarist carried Mikael into a predetermined unoccupied room, which unintentionally was across from Brian and Tristan\'s.

Thomas glared over his shoulder at the half closed door. \"I hope neither of them come out for a while,\" he replied. The sandy blond stepped further into the room, sidestepped John, and arranged the pillows on the couch. He pushed his long hair back and over his shoulders several times while trying to make the leather sofa comfortable. \"There,\" he said and turned toward the other two. \"Put him on the couch, John.\"

\"Thanks,\" the brunette replied as he navigated through the small space. Upon reaching his destination, John settled Mikael down on the narrow couch. \"We\'ve got about twenty minutes,\" he answered. \"I hope we can calm him down before then. He\'s an absolute wreck.\"

\"Yeah, you aren\'t kidding.\" Thomas turned his head in the direction of the room across the hall and sadly tipped his head down in thought. \"I don\'t know if this will work.\" He felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder and slowly pull him toward a comforting body. The blond instantly wrapped his arms around John\'s thick waist and sighed.

\"Can you do this?\" the brunette softly spoke in Thomas\'s ear while moving the long tresses back out of his narrow face.

Thomas nodded his head against John\'s chest and stepped away from him, arms still carelessly slung over the brunette\'s hips. He smiled slightly at the older man. \"Do I have a choice?\" he mumbled back. \"We need to help them.\"

John nodded. \"Kind of convenient that the bastard picked that room isn\'t it.\"

\"It\'s fate,\" Thomas whispered back.

\"Alright, let\'s do this.\" Thomas moved away from him and stood next to the couch. \"What do we do now?\" John said a little to loudly.

\"We wait until Chris gets here.\" Thomas looked at the broken man in front of him. \"I swear Chris\'s plan better work,\" he mumbled and ran his fingers apprehensively through his hair. The rhythm guitarist regretfully gazed at John and sat down beside Mikael\'s quivering body. He rested his hand on the young blonde\'s knee giving a small amount of support. \"Mikael,\" his bass voice whispered. \"Sweetie, look at me.\"

The sobbing blond turned his sullen gaze in the direction of Thomas\'s voice, unsure of where it was coming from. \"Hmmm…\" he murmured, \"Tris.\"

\"No not Tristan, it\'s Thomas.\" Mikael stared at Thomas, disbelieve written on his face. The older blond sighed. \"Mikael you need to get focused here. I know it\'s hard right now, but we need you ready for this meeting.\" Mikael blinked. \"Come on, snap out of it,\" Thomas quipped rocking the singer\'s knee side to side
.
\"I… but he… I can\'t… he…I…\" Mikael stammered.

\"Mikael you need to forget about him for now. You\'re a professional, come on get it together,\" Thomas insisted.

\"He…said loved…loved…me…\" Mikael sobbed. \"I…he…\"

\"Mikael,\" the blond drawled, frustration building.

\"I can\'t take this,\" Mikael screamed, drawing an expected commotion from across the corridor. \"I can\'t take this, can\'t take this,\" the blond continued bouncing his head against the back of the couch. \"I nee… I need to… get…rid of it.\"

Thomas looked at John puzzled, \"Need to get rid of what, Mikael?\"

\"He…he said…talk…I…\" Mikael\'s eyes went wide as they met a set of equally tormented ones. \"Tris..tan?\"

**

\"Come on Tristan you don\'t need that ungrateful punk anymore. You\'ve got me right,\" Brian said as he ushered the brunette from the room. Tristan glanced over his shoulder several times hoping to catch Mikael storming out of the conference room after them but Mikael never came. \"He isn\'t coming,\" Brian sneered. \"You chose me over him. I\'ve won and he knows that.\" Brian guided the distraught man to an unoccupied office and halfheartedly shut the door. The dirty blond sat Tristan down on a plush chair, placing the small powder filled bag in front of him.

Tristan stared at the substance on the table. Captivated by the euphoric release the drug afforded and thankful for the temporary relief from the internal pain it would kill, the bass player willingly reached a shaking hand out toward it.

\"Not so fast,\" the other man roughly wrenched Tristan\'s hand away from the bag. \"You need to say the magic words.\" The black haired man turned his hardened gaze in the direction of Brian\'s smug face. He tried yanking his arm away from his boyfriend\'s grasp, but he only tightened it. \"Say it.\" When the brunette didn\'t respond, Brian grabbed a fistful of dark tresses and slammed Tristan\'s head against the table, pinning an arm behind the slender man\'s back. \"No relief if you don\'t say it?\"

\"Please, baby.\" Tristan trembled with both fear and need. He feared the potential level of brutality Brian could muster under the influence of the cocaine, but mostly he feared that Brian would not let him forget, be free. \"I\'m…I\'m sorry. Please,\" the brunette whispered.

\"You know what you\'ve gotta say,\" the blond tightened his hold and leaned over the willowy frame. \"If you want to douse your pain, then say it.\" Tristan whimpered as his eyes closed with the increased force. Brian snarled, \"Say it.\"

Tristan\'s stomach turned, head throbbed and his arm was beginning to go numb. He opened his hazy orbs and caught sight of the small bag just in front of him, he sighed. His heart wrenched and his stomach fell at the thought of calling Brian Mikael\'s pet name, but his need outweighed his resilience. \"Please, Beloved,\" Tristan fluttered his watery lashes and internally reprimanded his self for being so weak.

\"See now, that wasn\'t so bad. I don\'t see why you refuse to call me that.\" Brian released the young man\'s arm and allowed Tristan to sit back up. He swooped down and snatched the bag of powder and opened it. \"Ready for your reward.\"

Tristan ignored Brian and observed the room across the hallway. He thought he heard noises while his boyfriend was taunting him but he hadn\'t been sure, until now. He tilted his head to the left and leaned over, trying to get a better view of what was going on. \"What do we do now?\" John\'s voice trickled the distance between the two rooms and it was clear they were up to something.

Tristan slowly rose from his chair upon hearing Mikael\'s plagued tones fall from the blonde\'s lips. The black haired band member staggered through the small space Brian and he shared. He couldn\'t help it, didn\'t want to help it. It was as if he was being called to it, drawn by the familiar tormented voice. Tristan cautiously approached the door. He stood in the opening watching the unbelievable scene across the corridor, hearing Mikael\'s agonized screams. Tristan\'s body tightened, heart skipped, when he heard the amount of unbridled pain spill from Mikael\'s normally joyous voice. He blinked back tears and ran a hand through his dampened hair. His legs wobbled some, as he remained transfixed by his ex-lovers raw and pleading cries. He needed to get to him; he needed to help.

\"Hey, get back here, Tristan. We ain\'t finished yet.\"

Tristan ignored his boyfriend and ghosted his way in the direction of the other occupied room. He leaned his slender frame against the doorway and watched the scene unfold. That\'s when their eyes met, that\'s when Tristan recognized the grief and pain Mikael was feeling and that\'s when Mikael\'s soul cried for Tristan. It\'s also when Thomas made his biggest mistake.

**

\"Mik…\" Before Tristan could finish, Thomas drew his ring-clad hand back diagonally over his shoulder and then swiftly backhanded Mikael across the face completely catching him off guard. The younger blonde\'s head snapped sideways into the back of the couch, eyes pinched shut. The immovable object didn\'t afford Mikael any leeway to avoid the harsh blow, forcing his cheek to take the brunt of the impact. Mikael\'s hands immediately covered his face, a thin line of blood trickled between his fingers. He opened his eyes, staring hard at his unsuspected assailant and gasped for air, tears diluting the red stream. Thomas took advantaged of the stunned man and lunged forward, encircling the other man\'s wrists. He wrenched them from Mikael\'s face and uncovered the large gash. His large ring had sliced open a shallow wound in Mikael\'s cheek, a bruise rapidly forming around it. Thomas closed his eyes remorsefully as Mikael struggled in his grasp.

\"Let go.\"

\"Mikael, knock it off.\"

\"Let me go,\" Mikael kicked at the blond. The sandy blond let go of one wrist and drew his hand back again, striking the struggling blond once more. The fight in Mikael faded and he cringed into the couch.

\"Fucking what the hell, Thomas,\" Tristan\'s usually soft voice thundered throughout the small enclave. \"Don\'t you fucking hit him again.\"

Thomas sneered over his shoulder, \"Why don\'t you go fucking snort some more coke and mind your own fucking business? Or has your dealer left.\" Tristan gasped, shocked at what his friend said. The younger blond ignored Tristan\'s reaction and reached for Mikael\'s hands again. \"Mikael, come on. Stop fucking around and snap out of it.\" Thomas pulled the youngest member toward him, Mikael\'s head lulled to one side.

\"Thomas,\" Tristan warned. \"Get your hands off of him.\"

The guitarist let go of Mikael\'s wrists and pushed him, sending the drained man hard into the back of the sofa. The blond quickly pulled his knees to his chest, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead between them. \"What the fuck do you care?\"

\"That\'s Mikael,\" Tristan said as if those two words explained everything.

\"No it isn\'t.\"

\"Wha…\" the bass player stared at Thomas confused.

\"Does that look like the Mikael you know and loved? Does it Tristan?\" The slender man tipped his head to the side and observed the actions of his youngest friend. \"Well… fuck it. You\'re fucking useless to us, so why don\'t you go do something you are good at… snorting coke and feeling sorry for yourself.\"

\"But… I…\"

\"You\'re so selfish. You couldn\'t see the pain he was in. You couldn\'t see it through your drug induced haze, could you.\" Thomas turned his back and glared down at the rocking form on the couch. \"Mikael get up.\" The older blond reached down and grabbed an arm and yanked, hauling the singer up. Thomas lifted his hand again as if to strike and Mikael cringed away, Thomas\'s heart sank. He prayed Tristan would fall for it. He did.

When the blonde\'s hand began falling toward Mikael, it was captured almost immediately. Thomas felt his arm being yanked harshly, forcing him around in time for Tristan\'s fist to collide with his face, hitting him square in the jaw.

\"I fucking told you not to touch him.\" Tristan shook his hand and looked down angrily at Thomas\'s fallen frame, pointing a shaky finger. \"Nobody touches him.\" The black haired man walked over the top of Thomas and sat down beside the quivering man on the couch. He tenderly wrapped his arms around Mikael\'s shoulders and pulled him toward his chest. \"Mikael…hey.\"

\"Tristan?\"

\"Yeah,\" the other responded. He rocked the singer in his arms. Tristan heard a noise behind him and peered over his shoulder, catching John helping Thomas onto his feet and checking over his face. The older brunette pressed Mikael\'s bloody cheek hard against him and he addressed the other two. \"John?\"

The lead guitarist glared at Tristan as he continued petting the side of Thomas\'s face. \"What the hell do you want?\"

Tristan rested his cheek on Mikael\'s head, still rocking him. \"Why didn\'t you help?\"

\"I thought Thomas had it under control,\" John sneered, seething.

The Tristan\'s head jerked up, \"What the hell?\"

\"He was acting all fucked up. Like he was the one doing drugs or something.\"

\"Lay off it. I\'ll do whatever the fuck I want to do. Got it.\"

\"Even if hurts the rest of us.\"

Tristan closed his eyes again. \"I guess I am selfish.\"

\"You fucker.\" John helped Thomas sit down and continued coddling him.

\"John?\" Tristan asked, his soft voice returning.

\"What?\" the other man scorned.

\"I… I didn\'t mean to hit Thomas so hard.\"

\"Yeah, well, at least…\" John stopped when he felt Thomas\'s hand tighten around his own.

\"At least what?\"

\"Nothing. Never mind.\" John stared back down at Thomas and kissed his forehead. He whispered, \"You did good, sweetie. You did good.\" The blond gazed back at the Italian and smiled curtly and leaned his forehead into John\'s chest, comforted by the arms that wrapped around him. Their peace was short lived.

\"What the hell is going on in here?\" Brian yelled when he entered the room. \"Tristan…\" he discontinued his ranting when he witnessed the younger man comforting his ex-lover. The dirty blond composed himself. \"Tristan what are you doing?\" his voice accused.

\"None of your business,\" Tristan shot back unexpectedly.

\"Excuse me?\"

\"This is between the four of us. You\'ve got nothing to do with this.\" Brian crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. The dark haired man sighed, \"Look Brian, just go back across the hall and I\'ll be there in a few minutes okay.\"

Brian ignored his boyfriend\'s suggestion. \"You in for a quickie or something,\" the other man spat. \"Are you gonna fuck him right here in front of me?\"

\"That\'s ridiculous.\" Tristan felt the blond tense in his embrace. He continued, \"We\'re still friends Brian.\" Mikael\'s body completely collapsed within his arms giving into the realization that Tristan would never be his again. Tristan shuddered at his own words, the finality of them. \"You\'re just gonna have to get use to it.\"

\"Still friends huh. Friends with benefits, I\'m sure.\" Brian approached the two on the couch, stalking them like a predator. He snatched Mikael\'s arm quickly and pulled him from Tristan\'s touch. \"Get the fuck away from him,\" Brian yelled at Mikael.
Mikael screamed as his arm was twisted.

\"Let go of him,\" Tristan and John yelled simultaneously. Tristan stood up and looked over his shoulder toward Thomas and John. \"Guys, could you give us a second, here.\"

\"Are you sure?\" John pleaded.

\"Yes.\"

\"Will be down the hall. Come on Thomas.\" John helped the younger man to his feet, guided him past the feuding men and out the door.

Tristan watched as they left the room and then his contempt filled eyes refocused on his boyfriend. \"Let him go.\" Brian shook Mikael by his arm, jarring it ruthlessly. The blond moaned. \"I swear Brian.\"

\"What? What do you fucking swear?\" Brian dropped Mikael\'s arm and the blond instantly crawled away, his physically and emotionally exhausted frame collapsing lengthwise on the divan. Brian looked down at the pathetic form, \"Remember,\" he pointed accusingly, \"he\'s the one that left you. He\'s the one who gave you up, not me.\" He moved closer to his boyfriend and leaned toward him, whispering. \"He\'s just like you were, Tristan. So emotional, so grief stricken, I bet I could chase his pain away too, if I wanted.\" Brian again observed the muscular man lying on the couch, his eyes focusing on Mikael\'s ass; he licked his lips. \"I bet he\'s every bit as good in bed as you are.\" The dirty blond licked the shell of Tristan\'s ear. \"Do you want me to find out? We could have so much fun with him, use him… like he used you.\"

\"Mikael never used me,\" Tristan whimpered back.

\"Isn\'t that what you told me. You felt used.\" He licked Tristan\'s ear again, \"One line and he\'d be all ours, and revenge would be yours.\"

\"No,\" Tristan spoke emphatically.

Brian huffed, \"Maybe when you\'re high you\'ll change you mind. You\'re much more fun that way anyhow.\" He sat causally down beside Mikael and placed his hand on the back of the younger man\'s thigh. Mikael, to tired from the lack of sleep and the emotional roller coaster, didn\'t move away from the touch. Brian rubbed his hand in small circles barely brushing against Mikael\'s ass and then getting braver, dipped it down pressing into the defenseless blonde\'s denim covered perineum.
Tristan watched as Mikael\'s body shuddered and inhaled.

The black haired man couldn\'t do anything to stop his boyfriend, trapped by his words. He knew Brian would do it. Tristan had wanted desperately to tell Brian what he really felt, but he was too concerned about the repercussions toward his self and Mikael. He clenched his fists tight; white knuckled his eyes never leaving Mikael\'s trembling body. \"I swear, we\'re just friends.\"

Brian wrapped his hand underneath and grabbed Mikael\'s cock, squeezing it. The younger blond bit his bottom lip and made a pain laced moan. Tristan\'s boyfriend leaned over Mikael\'s body, flexing his hand tight, clutching his phallus. Mikael pushed his hips up trying to dislodge Brian\'s grip, but the blond pushed him back down with the weight of his body. As Brian struggled with Mikael, he caught Tristan moving toward him in his peripheral vision. \"Stop, right there Tristan. Unless of course you\'d like me to take this further.\" The bass player stopped. Brian whispered into the squirming man\'s ear, \"You lose. I win.\" He removed his hand and smacked Mikael\'s ass. He leered at Tristan, who was staring at Mikael, \"It better be just friends.\" He accosted Mikael again, \"it better be.\" He stood up and left the room, followed by a shaken Tristan.

Mikael pulled his knees to his chest and allowed fresh tears to fall.

**

The blond timidly reopened his tear drenched lashes, blinking profusely. His arms were wrapped tightly against his knees pulling them as near as possible, forehead resting upon them. The position afforded him the ability to become small and unnoticed, allowing him to curl up and die peacefully. Upon hearing Tristan\'s declaration, Mikael\'s body was raked with wave upon wave of hopelessness, shamefulness and dejection. He didn\'t want anyone to notice the every lasting effect it had on him. So, he hid within himself.

His ears did not hear the new voice that entered the room. His eye didn\'t see the concerned looks that crossed each group member\'s face. Mikael didn\'t care about these things. He only wanted his pain to end and Tristan to return. The youngest member tore his eyes from his knees and peered up. His weeping had subsided and he was left with only deep internalized self-loathing.

Mikael felt lost and alone, although there were six other people in the office with him. The blonde\'s head jerked back upon his revelation. He was in an office. The room was sure to possess what he needed. Mikael\'s azure eye\'s scanned the area, darting back and forth until he spotted what he needed. He looked around the room one more time determining if anyone and noticed his change. His azure eyes met Tristan\'s. The emerald eyed man was sitting in a leather chair facing him, watching him. Mikael quickly turned his face away and darted his gaze back at the desk. When he gave a sideways glance at Tristan again he observed his ex-lover looking over his shoulder at the desk, and then their eyes met again.

Mikael took a deep breath. He could do this; he could reach his salvation. Without warning, the young singer unraveled his tight knit form from the couch and painfully made his way across the room. As he approached the desk he stumbled, careening his hip hard into the unyielding piece of furniture, knocking over a small container of pencils, pens and other office supplies. The items spilled frantically across the uncluttered surface and Mikael quickly gathered them up, replacing them into the cup. He made a small apology for his clumsiness to the Silveo executive and then excused himself. \"I gotta go to the bathroom,\" he said softly hunched over, while exiting the room.

Tristan stood from his chair and started following the blond singer. The bass player\'s movements were stopped when Chris grabbed his arm. Tristan looked down at the offending hand and traveled his gaze up until he met auburn eyes.

\"Let go of me.\"

\"He doesn\'t need to be here for this.\"

\"What?\"

\"Just leave it at that and sit back down. We need to get things straight.\" Chris nodded toward the vacated chair.

\"Chris, Mikael\'s well being is more important that this stupid meeting, you think?\"

Chris gave Tristan a stern look. \"I said sit down. Besides I highly doubt you think that.\" He paused, \"Maybe you should know the reason for Mikael\'s unhealthy demeanor, before you become the martyr for Mikael\'s health, eh.\"

**

Mikael reached the bathroom unnoticed with his prize. He quickly entered the small room and locked the door, bracing the garbage can against the doorknob. The blonde\'s nervous hand set the object down on the bathroom counter and gave it a weary smile. It\'s only a matter of time before he would feel its sharp edge tear his skin, releasing small bits of his misery in each gash it created.

Mikael rolled his shirtsleeve up and gently traced the old and new scars that marred his once flawless skin. The blond reached timidly for the object. He closed his eyes and worried his lips, in a last minute internal battle. He pulled his hand back. His mind reinforced his need with images of sedated relief, showing him that it\'s worked before; it\'s worked every time. His emotional turmoil would disappear as soon as the cold metal sliced open his skin, allowing the internal pain to leave his body in a gush of red. He licked his lips and stared at the glinting silver object, clasping his hand around the awkward handle. The blond opened the object and grabbed it carelessly cutting his hand on the opposite side. Mikael squeezed his eyes shut at the unintentional pain.

Mikael\'s mind won over his heart. He clenched the fist of his other arm and struck the forearm hard and fast, widening the gash on his palm. The cut was deeper and thicker allowing more of his pain to escape. The physical pain it created tenfold from what he had been use to, although like the smaller objects, it didn\'t get rid of his emotional scars fast enough. Mikael allowed the scissors another chance and settled the tip just under his rolled sleeve and slowly drew it down his arm, stopping at his elbow. The blond watched a small trickle of blood ooze out following obediently behind the scissors\' blade. He quickened his hand. Mikael\'s eyes watered. He hoped the two new cuts, along with the short quick ones, would be enough, the first deeper and wider, but they were futile. The singer has never had to make so many slashes before to facilitate his reprieve. The blond still felt the misery, the patient darkness shrouding his soul. He needed more. Mikael lifted his shirt off, grimacing slightly. The young singer positioned the edge of the make shift blade onto his stomach and observed in the mirror the diagonal stream of red the shears left in its wake. His head swooned. Still not enough, the blond thought as he situated the object onto his chest. Mikael gouged an X over his heart, tearing his nipple and then dropped the bloodied scissors. Again he swayed. The blood rushed out from his self-inflicted wounds, purging him of his guilt, his despair. He leisurely fluttered his lashes, welcoming the dizziness, the sheltering darkness; he swayed. Thanking God as he slowly crumbled to the floor in exhaustion, and his pain, for now, could be forgotten.

**

Tristan waited. He\'d stayed after everyone else had left. The information they\'d fed him churned in his head. He needed to talk to Mikael, to read his thoughts, his emotions. He\'d know for sure then. Mikael mentioned something about not being strong, about being a coward. Tristan wanted to know why, why he feared their relationship. He needed to speak with Mikael.

He waited.

Tristan remembered his ex-lover saying something to him earlier that day about Silveo and what they made him do. He was craving a fix and Mikael said that it was Silveo\'s idea. He had called him a liar. He didn\'t believe that their record company could do such a thing, would keep them apart. Tristan looked at his watch worriedly and shifted in his chair. He was wrong.

He waited.

When Chris brought up the letters that Mikael had written to Tristan, the dark haired man sat straighter. He didn\'t receive any letters, he had responded. Chris stared hard at the executive and made the man show Tristan the pile of letters Mikael had written. Every letter still sealed, none of them with a postal watermark. Tristan\'s eyes clouded, Mikael had tried to contact him. He hadn\'t abandoned him completely. The bass player chewed on his nails as he thought about his relationship with Mikael, comparing it with what he had now. He looked down at the unopened letters and contemplated reading them. He left them for now.

He waited.

The threats that Brian had made were real and Tristan knew that. He wouldn\'t allow his boyfriend the opportunity to hurt Mikael. He would protect him as best he could. Out of friendship of course, he thought trying desperately to convince himself. Tristan stood up from the chair, the letters spilling from his lap and laid on the couch. \"I can\'t still be in love with him, not after everything his undone. This is killing me,\" the slender man whispered out loud and closed his eyes. He sighed.

He waited.

Mikael wasn\'t coming back.

He waited.

Mikael wasn\'t coming back.

He cried.