Chapter Text
It started out fairly innocuous, as things do, and it started after they had the baby. They were arguing about something inane, like what they were going to serve for Easter dinner, and when Billie Joe had gone to walk away, Luke had grabbed hold of his wrist and yanked him back. Matty was only a few weeks old at the time, so they were both sleep-deprived and short on patience. Though it was uncharacteristic of Luke to do something aggressive like that, he hadn’t thought much of it—at first. That incident had been the tip of the iceberg, however, not that Billie ever could’ve known it.
Presently, Billie is bent over the bathroom sink, splashing cold water on his face and rinsing his mouth out. When he spits, it’s tinted dark pink, though it gets lighter the more he does it. Shutting off the faucet, Billie Joe lifts his head to meet his reflection in the mirror, and he winces as he gently prods at his swollen bottom lip. He’s going to need to put some ice on that to keep it from getting any worse.
When the doorknob jiggles suddenly, Billie jumps.
“C’mon, Billie, unlock the door,” Luke calls quietly from the other side of it. “Don’t be overdramatic, c’mon.”
Though Billie Joe inwardly bristles—Luke dares to call him overdramatic?—he doesn’t initially respond. He can tell by the sound of his husband’s voice that Luke has calmed down, implying that the danger has passed… even if he’s never really safe.
“Baby, c’mon.” Luke’s voice is softer. “Open the door for me, Billie, please.”
Billie closes his eyes for a moment, trying to level himself off. He feels like he’s either going to burst into tears or throw shit at the wall, but neither of those things are going to satisfy him. It’s tempting to shrink into the back of the bathroom, maybe crawl into the tub and hide there for a while, but the thing is, Billie Joe can’t keep himself locked in here indefinitely. With Matty sleeping just down the hall, it’s not an option.
Taking a deep breath, Billie unlocks the door and pulls it open.
Luke stands there, still in his work clothes, just with his tie missing and the top buttons of his Oxford shirt undone. His normally tidy blonde hair is ruffled, wrinkled like his forehead as he gazes down at Billie, and his blue eyes are filled with the same regret that’s in his expression. Slowly, Luke lifts his large hands and steps forward.
Instinctively, Billie Joe takes a step backwards.
“Hey, hey,” Luke murmurs, following after him without making any abrupt movements. Once he’s close enough to Billie to tower over him, he reaches to lightly cup Billie’s jaw, shushing him gently when he winces and jerks back. “Easy, baby, easy.” Tilting his head, Luke peers intently at the corner of Billie Joe’s mouth, his thumb hovering over it. “You’re okay, Billie,” he decides. “Can’t hardly see a thing. It’ll be gone by the morning.”
His jaw set, Billie stares up at Luke, the taste of blood clinging to his tongue. He has one of his fists clenched at his side and his other palm resting on Luke’s chest, like he’s prepared to shove him away if need be, for all of the good it will do him when his alpha is so much stronger. Only above a whisper, and strained, Billie Joe says, “I told you I would leave you. If you—if you kept fucking—”
“You’re not gonna do that, Billie. You can’t do that because I can’t live without you.” The words tremble as Luke speaks, and his fingers spread through the hair at the back of Billie’s head. He’s pressing Billie Joe against the wall now, and their noses are touching. It forces Billie to see the tears glazing over Luke’s pretty blue eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby, and that was the last time. The last time, I fucking promise you.” Tenderly, he kisses the unblemished corner of Billie’s mouth, and from there, he brushes more kisses along his jawline, trailing a path to his neck. “I love you so much, baby, and I’m sorry. So fucking sorry, Billie Joe….”
Billie rests his head back against the wall, his chin angled towards the ceiling. His throat is thick and his breathing is shallow, like he’s about to have a panic attack, but he fights the urge to go to pieces. Luke is doing enough of that for the both of them, silently crying into Billie’s shoulder and clinging to him the same way Matty does after he’s had a bad dream. Starkly contrasted from his earlier rage, the remorse emanates from Luke in waves, and even though the definition of insanity clips through his mind in that moment, he hurts because Luke hurts, deep in his gut where no physical blow could ever touch him. Their bond makes them extensions of one another, and this is the price of that, regardless of whether or not Billie Joe wants to pay it anymore. As unimaginable as this reality is, breaking that bond might be more so.
“You can’t leave me, Billie, you can’t. Please, baby, you just can’t.”
Unable to bear it anymore, Billie pushes Luke’s damp face away from his neck and holds him by the cheek as he looks intensely into his eyes. “Then you need to get help,” he says, forceful even if it wavers with his own emotion. “You need to fucking get help, Luke, because you—I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
His voice breaks on a suppressed sob, and Luke shushes him, cradling Billie Joe’s jaw again. “I will, and—and it’ll stop, Billie, I promise. On my goddamn life, I promise you, Billie.”
It’s been said before, Billie Joe thinks as they wrap their arms around each other in a fierce embrace. But this time, maybe Luke means it.