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what family means

Summary:

It's 2 below zero and Chester's fingertips are numb. He steps to the Shinoda's front door, hesitates for a few seconds. And then he knocks.

Notes:

Written 12/29/18. AU. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!

Work Text:

It's 2 below zero and Chester's fingertips are numb. He steps to the Shinoda's front door, hesitates for a few seconds. And then he knocks.

He sees the pity in Mike's eyes when he chokes back his tears and asks to stay overnight. You know, he tries to explain, car broke down, no heat, just need somewhere to stay. Mike doesn't even ask his parents, he just guides Chester inside.

Mike's mom greets him but he sees the confused look she gives Mike. He sees how Mike makes a vague gesture and then he's off to turn the heat in the house a little higher. Chester's just standing there on the welcome mat in the foyer, a fine layer of snow over his boots. He's stayed here a thousand times before, in middle school, when having sleepovers with your best friend is normal.

 

Mike's mom tells him to take off his boots and come into the kitchen, she's almost got dinner ready. He tells her he's fine, he already ate, but this is Mike's mom and she cares more than his own mother does so the excuse doesn't work. He kicks his boots off and follows her into the kitchen, wondering where Mike went.

"How long has it been since you stayed for dinner?" She asks, a small smile on her lips. She loves having Chester as company, it comforts her knowing he's being taken care of.

 

"Couple years, maybe," Chester shrugs.

It'd been the last time Chester stayed, period. He didn't visit Mike for a long time after Sam demanded all of his attention, after having a kid left him with no free time. He loved Sam, loved Draven, but lost himself, lost his best friend, lost his family. Mike's mom sees the blank stare he's giving the linoleum floor. She tries something else.

 

"How long do you need, Chester?"

 

He wants to go back, reverse time ten minutes and just keep walking past the Shinoda's home. He's got too many skeletons and they have too many empty closets. Staying here for an extended time isn't going to make anyone happy. He's going to mess up their perfect family, perfect routine, perfect image. When he was young and naive there was nothing to drag along with him when he spent weekends with Mike that would ruin how things were. No secrets. He didn't have to stay.

 

"Just tonight," he promises her, and she doesn't believe it but she turns her attention back to cooking and lets him wander off to find Mike and escape this conversation.

 

 

 

"Hey." Chester shuts Mike's bedroom door behind him, force of habit, and looks at the pages on his desk. "What's that?"

 

"Assignment," Mike says, sitting up straight in his chair. "Sorry I left you with Mom, I figured you'd be okay. I just have to get this done before tomorrow."

 

"Don't let me interrupt you," Chester waves a dismissive hand, but hovers by Mike's side for awhile, watching him draw. Mike's fine with it. Years of Chester watching him work made him less conscious of his art, and that's why he's in art school now.

He thinks of telling Chester that. But after what might have been ten minutes or might have been an hour, Mike's mom is calling and dinner is ready.

 

 

Mike's dad prays before dinner. It seems weirdly normal to Chester, reminds him of times he spent breakfast with the Shinoda family and they all linked hands and said grace. That was years ago. Having a family at the table was years ago. He was always working so much, he rarely spent breakfast or even dinner with Sam and Draven. And when he was home, Sam didn't want anything to do with him.

He's so caught up in his thoughts that he barely misses when the prayer is over. He feels bad, can't place why, but forgets about it by the time Mike's mom speaks.

 

"Where are you working now, Chester?"

 

His heart twists. "Nowhere, right now."

 

He catches the glances the Shinodas share, even Mike. As far as Mike knew, Chester was still scanning maps and losing his will to live. As far as they all knew, Chester was settled down in a home with his wife and their child.

 

"I'm looking around, though," He decides to add, so the mood isn't entirely terrible.

 

"The library in town is hiring," Mike's dad suggests, "So is the grocery store across from it."

 

"Hey, the library sounds good," Mike says. "Remember when we'd go there after school and just stay until it closed?" He's smiling.

 

Of course Chester remembers. They'd practically be running out of school, and Mike's mom was there waiting to pick them up and drive them to the library. They'd sit near the wall of windows in front of the reading garden, because it was always too cold or too hot ouside to actually be in the garden. They'd pluck comics off the shelves and sit side-by-side reading them.

Mike knows exactly what Chester is thinking of, so he says, "My favorite comic was always Deadpool."

 

Chester laughs without realizing it. "Whenever there'd be a new one on the shelf, you'd freak out."

 

Mike laughs too. He wants to take that memory and jump into it, just go back in time when Chester was happy and he didn't know what he knew now. Chester sees how the smile on his face falls, pretends not to notice and just asks Mike's parents how things have been.

 

 

One night turns into two, into a week, and when Chester realizes Christmas is coming, Mike begs him not to spend it alone.

Begs him. Cries when he asks Chester not to go back to living in a car and going to bed hungry. Chester doesn't realize how serious it is to Mike. He isn't used to someone caring.

 

 

Mike wakes up at 3am. He remembers when Chester would spend the night in grade 6 and they'd stay up to see what happens during the witching hour. Nothing special, but they always wanted to see a ghost.

Chester has claimed the floor as his bed. Even when Mike offered up his own bed, and his mom offered the couch, Chester wanted to stay with Mike but wouldn't inconvenience him enough to share. The floor was fine. He was eager to sleep there, in fact, and Mike almost felt sick when he realized familiar carpet is a luxury compared to the backseat of a car.

His curtains aren't drawn so there's enough light from the moon to see a vague outline of everything. He looks down at the floor, sees Chester laying there. Wonders if he's asleep. He feels bad, still, that he's on a bed and his best friend is on the floor. So he blindly crawls out from underneath his blankets and slides underneath Chester's. And Chester is awake because he turns, wraps his arms around Mike, but he still doesn't say anything. Neither of them do.

Mike tries to figure out if it's weird or not. Sleepovers were in middle school, and the rare occasion in high school, but this isn't that. This is Chester needing somewhere to stay because he's homeless.

 

Homeless. Mike's stomach twists. If Chester left, he'd have nowhere to live. No one to take care of him.

 

No, it's not a sleepover anymore, and maybe it is a little weird that they're grown men now and they're cuddling, but Mike doesn't care. He'd sleep in the floor everynight from now on if he had to.

 

 

Mike's parents are out holiday shopping, so it's just him and Chester when they finally wake up. It's noon but Mike decides to they should eat breakfast.

They're sitting across from each other at the table, and Chester says, "Remember when we'd sit in the main room and watch TV instead of sit here?"

 

Mike smiles. Sometimes his mom would let them sleep in, let them have cereal instead of pancakes, and let them watch cartoons instead of stay in the dining room. "You were always disappointed she didn't make pancakes, but you'd get so excited we didn't have to stay in here."

 

"Dude, I didn't have cable, of course I got excited." Chester says it with a light tone, he evens laughs a little bit, but Mike gets sick whenever he talks about his own home. So Mike changes the subject.

 

"Remember the witching hour?"

 

Chester laughs, actually laughs, and it makes Mike happy all over again.

 

"You believed in ghosts so hard, you made me stay up and hunt for them with you," He says. His parents were so religious, he wasn't raised to believe ghosts were real. Chester, on the other hand, believed in all kinds of stuff.

 

Mike has this bittersweet thought, but it makes him smile. He and Chester always lacked something in their life that the other could provide. When Mike lacked creativity, faith, motivation, Chester gave that to him. And Mike always returned the favor.

 

Mike believed in ghosts by the time he was 13.

 

 

Chester is on his way down the stairs when he hears Mike and his mom talking in the main room. They're playing cards and they don't see him on the staircase.

 

"I'm worried that when he leaves, he'll go straight back to that."

 

Mike's mom places a card on the stack. They're playing Uno. Chester would run right down there and join them if he wasn't trying to be sneaky. She says, "He's smart. I have faith in him."

 

"Ma, I don't even know if he's clean right now."

 

Chester's heart drops. They're talking about him. And his best friend doesn't believe him.

 

"Well... Maybe talk to him about it. Just be careful. It's touchy."

 

Mike drops a draw four on the stack. His mom laughs and draws. "I just don't want to push him away. Last time I asked, he disappeared."

 

Chester wants to cut in, it wasn't you Mike, it was Sam. He wants to say, you did nothing wrong.

But he can't. He listens and watches and tries not to cry.

 

"He seems better. Healthier," She tries to comfort Mike, as he drops a red card on the deck and she follows. "Maybe we don't need to worry."

 

"I always worry, Mama. I always do." Mike sighs as he drops his last card, winning the game. His mom grabs the deck and starts shuffling the cards. "He's been through so much. And after his dad..."

 

"I know. That was a scary time. But people heal, Mikey, it doesn't seem to be affecting him that much." And before his best friend can say something else, she says, "Why don't you go get him? He can play this round with us."

 

Chester goes pale, but his feet stay planted. Mike stands up and turns around, and looks him right in the eyes. Game over, Chester thinks. So much for that round of Uno.

 

"How much of that did you hear?" Mike asks, making him wonder what else he was accused of. Maybe accusing is a bit of a reach, maybe he's overreacting. But he's still hurt.

 

"Enough."

 

 

Nobody talks at dinner after the prayer. Nobody talks while the dishes are being washed. Mike says nothing as Chester follows him up the staircase to his room. Their room. Mike wishes they had a spare bed.

 

Mike goes on his laptop to resume his holiday shopping, but Chester collapses in bed. Mike's bed. Mike had so much convincing to do before Chester realized it really was okay to share. Mike doesn't like the silence, so he tries something.

 

"Hey, do you wanna help me find something for Christmas?"

 

"For who?" Chester asks, turning his head. He's laying on his stomach and he's got one arm tucked underneath Mike's pillow.

 

Mike bites back his smile. "Mom and dad."

 

"I don't have enough money."

 

Holding back a smile isn't a problem anymore. "Do you have any?" Mike asks.

 

"No. Mom pulled all my savings when she kicked me out. Sam and I had a joint account, and you know how that ended." Chester sighs. "I got nothing."

 

Mike swallows hard, and looks back at his screen. Chester has nothing.

 

"It's okay. I can say it's from both of us, Ches."

 

 

 

Christmas morning comes. Mike notices the dull stare Chester has as they make their way downstairs. Chester hates Christmas.

Chester ignores how guilty he feels when Mike's mom looks at her new fancy necklace and thanks him and Mike. He didn't get her anything, not really. But he smiles at her and tries not to think about it.

 

Christmas dinner starts after a special prayer for the holiday. They spent hours in the kitchen, all of them working together and having fun. Chester genuinely forgot how heavy the holiday felt while he and Mike reminisced, while the Shinodas told him all about their traditions, while they made jokes and told stories and laughed and they felt like a normal family.

 

"It's kind of crazy," Chester says, "you have all these traditions I didn't have a clue about. I've known you guys for years."

 

"Well, you never were here on the holiday," Mike's dad says. Mike flinches when he adds, "You were with your family. That's what it's all about."

 

Mike and Chester give each other a glance across the table. Mike's dad tried. His mom purposefully hadn't told him Chester's mother was guilty of neglect, his sister was never home, and his father... Mike's dad didn't know much. He knew Chester's family life got rough when he got older, which isn't entirely a lie, but that's all he knew. Mike's mom left details out to spare him.

 

So the Shinodas kept his skeletons in their closet, too. Perfect family.

 

Chester and Mike were washing the dishes when Chester finally spoke again.

"You told her about dad."

 

Mike tries not to drop a plate. His mom would kill him if he shattered her Christmas china. "Yeah."

 

"What'd you tell her?" Details. How detailed was it, Mike?

 

"I just-- I told her. I didn't explain it like you did, I just told her what happened."

 

Chester looks down at the plate in his hands. He blinked a few times. Mike's mom knows. "When did you tell her?"

 

Mike doesn't rush him to rinse the plate. He starts staring at it, too. "When you disappeared."

 

Chester wishes he had Christmas dinners with his family. All of them there, happy. Not scary and drunk and missing. He wanted nice Christmases like the Shinodas. He wanted to get jewelry for his mom. He wanted a Christmas tree and all the lights in his main room. That's all he's wanted for years. He wanted to feel safe just for a day. Perfect.

 

"Why then?" Chester asks, rinsing the plate and washing away all the images of the perfect Benningtons he'd been thinking of. A family without skeletons.

 

"I was worried you went back."

 

Chester hands the plate over to Mike so he can dry it and put it away. He tries not to let out a bitter laugh. He'd never go back, not if you offered him a million dollars. He'd rather starve in the winter than look at his parents again. "I didn't," is all he says.

 

"Where'd you go?" Mike asks, so quiet. There's a hint of desperation, like he's been holding the question back for years. He had been. He's been scared. "Why'd you disappear?"

 

"Sam," Chester responds, just as quiet. He doesn't elaborate even if Mike wants him to. Doesn't tell him about the threats and the fights and the screaming and the fear.

 

Mike doesn't ask. He wants to, wants to grab Chester and hug him and tell him he's safe and he can say it out loud now. But he doesn't. He lets it go and lets it eat away at him.

 

 

 

Chester's asleep in Mike's bed while Mike's at his desk drawing. It's midnight and he can't sleep. He remembers when staying up until midnight was scandalous and exciting at sleepovers and he was always amazed they never got caught. But his mom knew, she just let it slide. He smiles a little bit.

He's been drawing a picture of himself and Chester in middle school. Sitting in their treehouse that used to be in the Shinoda's backyard. He remembers every detail of that treehouse and wishes it was still there. Wishes they could climb up there and tell seecrets like they used to and not be scared.

Middle school is over. Mike's in college. Chester is homeless. There's more skeletons and there's more unspoken words than ever. Mike closes his sketchbook, switches off his lamp, and climbs into bed with his best friend.

 

They clean the next day. Mike has been meaning to rearrange and Chester says cleaning puts his mind at ease. So they work together, side-by-side, and tackle the beast.

Chester watches Mike reorganize his desk, listening to him talk about art school. He's still listening as he opens the closet doors, unconsciously imagines a skeleton. A big, tall skeleton with dirt on his bones and cobwebs in his chest, his bones rattling as he falls out of the closet.

The Shinodas don't even know how many skeletons he has now. Too many. He's not sure he wants them to know.

 

Mike's still there talking about art school. The skeleton is gone. They start to clean the closet, next, and hope they don't run into anymore bones.

 

 

 

Dinner is quiet that night. Mike's parents talk a little bit about the new year, but Mike never interjects and Chester doesn't listen. Mike knows what Chester's thinking. That's the curse of having a best friend, you're never alone in your own mind. Mike looks up at Chester, who doesn't return the look. He's thinking about his dad.

 

"Did you enjoy Christmas?" Mike's mom asks. The boys are cleaning up in the dining room, and she's washing the dishes.

 

Mike nods. "I did, Mama. Thank you."

 

"It was really nice, Mrs. Shinoda."

 

She looks exasperated. "Chester, I told you. You can call me mom."

 

Mike looks between the two of them. Chester's cheeks are a little red. He says, "I know, sorry," and nobody else says anything about it.

 

 

"Do you remember the treehouse?" Mike asks. He's sitting in his bed, looking out the window. He can perfectly picture it, sitting in that big old oak tree in the backyard.

 

"Yeah," Chester says, sitting down next to Mike. "I remember when you said we needed an emergency meeting, so you dragged me up there and told me you kissed a girl."

 

Mike laughs, his cheeks turning pink. "I was 12, how else was I gonna react?"

 

"Little miss Anna Hillinger," Chester grins. "You had a crush on her since you were 9."

 

"She's married now, you know." Mike smiles. "We kept in touch after highschool."

 

"You missed your shot," Chester teases him.

 

Mike looks away from the window, to Chester. The desk lamp across the room is the only light on. It reflects in Chester's glasses and it catches the metal from the ring in his lip. It illuminates how sharp his features are. Mike looks down at his own hands, lets out a small sigh.

 

"Yeah. Maybe I did."

 

 

 

The new year is there before they know it. Mike brings Chester to a party that Joe Hahn, a friend from art school, hosts. Mike didn't think there'd be so many people, or even so much alcohol. But it is a year-end party. He shouldn't have been naive. This isn't middle school.

 

Anna is there. She's in the kitchen with a red cup in her hand and her eyes on Talinda Bentley. Mike wonders where her husband is, thinks he'd like to meet him. She ends her conversation with Talinda so the two of them can catch up.

 

"So, who was that guy you showed up with?" She asks.

 

Mike is a little taken aback she doesn't remember his best friend. "That was Chester."

 

"No way! He's changed so much."

 

She's right. In high school Chester didn't have bleach blonde hair and tattoos and piercings, he wasn't lanky and awkward and pale as a ghost. Chester looked normal. Acted normal. Mike looks around for him, doesn't find him. "Yeah. People change."

 

Anna nods. He asks her, "So, is your husband here? I'd love to meet him."

 

She surprises him when she barks out a laugh. "You just missed her. The woman I was talking to is my wife."

 

Mike goes pale with embarassment. "Oh! I didn't--. Talinda?"

 

She pats him on the shoulder. "Yeah. I was surprised too."

 

They both laugh at that. They spend more time catching up until Joe announces the time. 11:57pm.

 

Everyone's gathering in the main room, where the TV is. Mike can't believe he spent so much time talking to Anna, to Talinda, catching up with his old friends. More nostalgia washes over him as they all gather around, almost as strong as it is when he thinks of Chester. The treehouse, the sleepovers, middle school. Naivety.

Chester appears at his side when NYC comes into frame on the news. It's cheesy, really, when everyone in the room starts counting down together. But he joins in, they chant as each second passes, big smiles on their faces and high hopes for the coming year. The ball drops, everyone cheers and grabs someone to kiss. It's so innocent, compared to the things that have been going on in his life lately. It's just pure, untainted joy.

 

He blacks out when Chester grabs him by his shirt collar and kisses him.

 

 

 

Chester is hammered. Mike's guiding him in the door and his mom is there in the foyer waiting.

 

"Hey, Mama," He says. Chester says nothing.

 

"Hey. How was the party?" She's asking Mike, because she already knows Chester had fun.

 

"Good. It was really nice," He says, readjusting his hold on Chester, who is trying to lie down on the welcome mat or something. "I'll talk to you more tomorrow. I need to get him upstairs."

 

She nods, and watches her son guide Chester up the staircase slowly. "You're fine, buddy," He says more than once. She's amazed at his patience.

 

"If that was you," She says to her husband, who's sitting on the couch in the main room. "You'd be sleeping right there."

 

 

Chester lays in the floor, on his stomach with the blankets pulled up to his chin. "Hey, Mike."

 

Mike's at his desk. "Yeah, buddy?"

 

Chester lifts his head, his words still slurred. "I'm sorry."

 

Mike turns away from his sketchbook, looking at his best friend. "For what?"

 

"I kissed you," Chester responds. Mike can tell by the look on his face, he feels guilty. "You know, at the party."

 

"I remember." Mike smiles a little bit. "It's okay. Just get some sleep, we'll talk about the party tomorrow."

 

 

 

Chester walks into the kitchen while Mike is telling his mom about the party. He's grabbing a cereal box from the cabinet when he hears her ask, "Did you kiss anyone?"

 

She's joking, obviously. But Chester goes pale when the memory comes back to him. Mike saves the day with, "Come on, Mama. I was a good boy." It makes her laugh. It does not make Chester laugh.

 

"What about you, Chester?"

 

Oh, come on.

 

"You act like I'll be able to remember," He says, faking a little laugh. She playfully rolls her eyes at him, and returns to her conversation with Mike.

 

When she leaves, Chester sits down at the dining table with his breakfast. Mike sits across from him with a mug of coffee. Chester starts, "I know what happened was--"

 

"Fine," Mike says, keeping his voice even. "It was fine. You didn't do anything wrong."

 

"I shouldn't have done it."

 

"I'm telling you right now that it's okay. You didn't hurt me."

 

Chester's staring down at his bowl of cereal. He's painfully aware of the fact that no matter what Mike says, it was still wrong. "I shouldn't have laid my hands on you. At all."

 

They sit through the rest of breakfast in silence.

 

 

Chester's at Mike's desk filling out a job application. Mike is sitting in his bed with his laptop. Both of them are trying to give each other some peace, but Chester can't stop himself from turning around and asking, "What else did I do?"

 

Mike doesn't look up. "Not a lot. You hung around with me until we went home."

 

"I didn't say anything embarrassing, did I?"

 

"No," Mike wants to add, no, you didn't tear up and talk about your trauma and ruin the party like you're afraid you did. Everyone had fun and you kept your hands to yourself and we went home without incident. But Mike knows Chester gets the point.

 

Chester abandons the application, going over to Mike and sitting with him instead. "You're not upset with me, right?"

 

Mike stops. Closes his laptop and sets it aside. "I'm okay, Chester. I told you, you didn't hurt me. I'm not upset and you shouldn't worry about it."

 

Chester isn't looking at Mike, he's looking down at the carpet. His eyes are dull. Mike realizes why he's been so weird about it-- Chester doesn't want to be like his dad. The thought makes Mike uneasy. Chester thinks he's doomed to repeat the cycle.

 

"You're not him," Mike finds himself saying. It doesn't make Chester feel any better.

 

 

 

Mike helps his mom with dinner while Chester sits at the table and finishes another application. Mike's dad says he's proud of his boys. His boys. Chester watches the words on the paper blur when his eyes fill with tears.

 

When dinner is ready and the application is filled out, they join hands and say grace. Mike says he's thankful for safety. For once, Chester agrees with him and forgets about what happened at the party. Then they all talk about the new year, their goals, what they want to see happen. Chester says he wants to stay close with the Shinodas.

 

"After you disappeared, we were just so worried about you," Mike's mom says. She won't look up from her plate, Chester hopes she isn't about to cry. "I told Mike he should write you letters. Give you a call."

 

Chester looks at Mike, who's already looking at him. "You tried to write?"

 

"I stopped after awhile. Your mom told me to stop sending letters, that you weren't home anymore. I asked her where you were, but she didn't know." I'm glad she didn't, he almost adds. But it's not the time. "I tried to reach you. You just weren't there." Nobody points out the catch in his voice at the end.

 

Chester feels waves of guilt crash over him. "I know. But it won't happen again."

 

"Chester, you're welcome here as long as you need. I just want you to know that," Mike's dad says. "You're family."

 

Chester focuses his gaze on his plate, avoiding eye contact like Mike's mom had done. He doesn't want to cry. "Thank you."

 

His family never was his. The Benningtons weren't the picture perfect family with closets free of skeletons. He wanted to love his family, to be proud of them. He wished Mike could have spent weekends at his house instead of Chester always having to escape to the Shinoda's home. He wished his parents loved each other like Mike's did, that they all had Christmases together with dinner and a tree and gifts, that his mom loved him and his dad was proud of him.

Chester looked for the Shinodas in his family. Because they were the only real family he ever knew, the only good example he had. And even they weren't perfect, but they loved and protected each other.

 

 

The thought follows him to bed that night. Mike's at his side under the covers, still barely awake. He looked for the Shinodas in his family. He looked for good in the unfixable bad. He nudges Mike.

 

"Huh," Mike mumbles. "What?"

 

"When I did what I did, at the party," Chester starts.

 

Mike cuts him off, "The kiss. Yeah. It's fine if you call it that."

 

"When I kissed you," he stops, hesitates. Considers how this could go. Continues, "Was it weird?"

 

"I mean, it'd be weird if anyone's best friend kissed them." Mike's still tired, and wondering where this is going. "It wasn't, like, gross. If that's what you're asking. I don't care if you're gay."

 

"I'm not gay," Chester says, "I don't think. I've never been attracted to a guy before. I just--. I dunno, I wanted to kiss you."

 

"Chester," Mike turns over, faces Chester. He says in a really, really small voice, "I don't wanna sound like I have my head up my own ass or anything, but if you like me, you can tell me."

 

Chester stares at him, considers it. He never had this weird awakening where he realized he was attracted to Mike, or he was gay, or anything. It was just always Chester and Mike. They were always together. And in his drunk brain it just made sense to kiss Mike when everyone else was kissing somebody they loved. Chester loved Mike, always, and he never doubted it.

 

"I don't--. I guess it just felt right, when everyone else grabbed someone and kissed them. Maybe because I was drinking. Flawed logic. Or the lines got blurred. I don't know. That sounds shitty."

 

"You're not shitty, shut up." Mike rubs his eyes, and yawns. He stares up at the ceiling. "I don't think I'm gay either. But I can see where it just made sense, I guess. We've always been together."

 

Curse of having a best friend. Mike knows exactly what Chester is thinking.

 

"I know I love you. I guess maybe it changed when I got older, and I just never knew."

 

Mike says suddenly, "Do you love me like you loved Sam?" And he instantly regrets it.

 

It sounds sweet at first, when Chester admits, "I don't love anybody like I love Sam," until he adds, "same way I don't love anybody like I love my father."

 

Mike closes his eyes. He knows what Chester means. You can't just flip a switch and stop loving someone, no matter what they've done to you. No matter how they broke you. Chester says, "I love you more than anybody. I always have. I don't know if that means something special, and I don't know if I care. You're my best friend. You've kept me safe."

 

"You don't know if there's a line?" Mike asks.

 

"Exactly. I mean, I never thought about kissing you before. It never even crossed my mind." Chester pauses, trying to figure out what he's trying to say. "You're the only person I've ever loved like this, and now that I kissed you, I guess I'm just trying to figure out what kind of love it's been all along."

 

Mike faces him again, and lets out a sigh. "You know what? We have all the time in the world to figure it out." He wraps his arms around Chester and pulls him in. "Try to get some sleep, and we'll talk more tomorrow."

 

 

Chester and Mike are 'banished' to the main room during breakfast because the Shinodas have visitors, and they stay in the dining room to chat. The boys find a channel rerunning their favorite old cartoons and enjoy breakfast together.

 

By lunch, the house is back to normal and it's quiet. Mike's mom suggests Uno.

 

"Mike, when do you go back to school?" She asks. She drops a turn reversal.

 

"Wednesday," He says. Chester gives him a smug look and drops a draw four. "You jackass."

 

He draws and his mom laughs. Chester tells them, "I have a job interview tomorrow."

 

"No way!" Mike's dad says from across the room. His attention is off of the news, now on Chester. "Where at?"

 

"The library," Chester responds. Mike is beaming and his mom couldn't be any more proud.

 

Chester is so happy to see their pride, to feel their love, that he doesn't even notice Mike's mom dropping a turn skip card.

 

 

 

Mike holds onto Chester's hand tightly while they say grace. It's only takeout, and they're in the main room, but Mike's dad insists. When they're done, Mike's mom starts the movie they rented and announces that now, every Saturday night will be movie-and-takeout night. Everyone agrees enthusiastically.

 

They're done eating and they're halfway through the sci-fi action thriller about aliens attacking New York or something, when Chester leans his head on Mike's shoulder. Mike makes no protests.

 

There's an arc in the story where the rag-tag team of colorfully suited superheroes finally come together to save the world, putting aside their differences to work together. They're a team, and Chester kicks himself for getting emotional about it. It makes him think of the Shinodas. How they looked past everything and took him in, helped him out, gave him a home. How despite his differences with Mike about certain things, they were still a team. He wouldn't trade his relationship, whatever it may be, with Mike for anything.

He wouldn't trade the Shinodas for anything. Not even his own family. Because the Benningtons aren't his, they're something seperate, something that never could resemble care and love. They're in his past, but he would always carry the Shinodas with him, always remember the love they give him no matter what.

 

Chester always tried to pretend his family was perfect. Always tried to keep up that image. And with Sam, he tried to make a new, better family. Tried to get it right. But with the Shinodas, there was no pretending. Chester knew he had a lot coming in the future. Finding a new job, getting back on his feet, custody agreements with Sam, there was always going to be something.

 

But now he knew, he had a family that he could count on.

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