And You Can't Tell Anyone (Track Twelve: III) 2, chapter 18

*Mike*

Mike swallowed hard and stared at Wren. "I'm gonna have to sit down," he mumbled as he half fell, half sat on the ground. The jolt from the impact of the hard ground kept him from fainting right out. Wren was at his side making sure he didn't keel over. "Do you really mean what I thought you said? 'Cause if you don't...we're supposed to scare Billie Joe and Tré not each other."
"Mike, I wouldn't joke about this."

So this is why she was avoiding me. Holy fuck. I'm gonna be... Mike swallowed again, trying to make sense of everything. I'm gonna be a dad? And Wren's going to be a mother? And Billie Joe and Tré... Mike felt a smile flicker onto his face as he imagined the terrible twosome trying to deal with a baby. "Uncle Tré," he murmured absently. "Are you sure?"
"The test was positive, so..." She looked down. Mike had the feeling that there was something else on her mind as well. Before he could ask, she blurted, "at the bar, did you get into a fight with the guy that got shot?"

What the hell does this have to do with anything? Irrationally, Mike's brain made an insane conclusion. I'm not the father. I'm not. She's dumping me for him or...was she with him all along and I was just a--No! Quit doubting yourself, you idiot! If anyone was to be unfaithful, Mike Dirnt, you've already proved it would be you. "Who is he?" Mike asked back, desperate to be relieved of this notion.
"I have no idea really," Wren replied. Relief washed through him, then guilt for his lack of faith. "I thought you would know more."
"All I know is he wanted to turn me into mush if I didn't hear him out." She twisted a ring on her finger.
"Did you...mushify him back?"
"He was sort of crushing me, then all that shit happened in the main room there. I macked him a good one so I could find you and took off. Why?"
"He's threatening to take you to court." Mike scowled.
"Take me to court? I was the one under attack! There's no way--"
"Mirabelle's lawyers would be defending him," she said bleakly.
"--Shit."
"She also knows about the test, and she's trying to blackmail me."

"Fuck. That bitch. Who the hell does she think she is? How'd she find out?" Despite his harsh words, he still did not really feel anything. He was still reeling from the fact that, yes, she was pregnant. For some reason, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her wildly. Maybe this whole Mirabelle issue would complicate things, but the joy seeping into his veins was intoxicating. He was having trouble being completely serious.
"I literally ran into her coming out of the bathroom. She got a hold of the testing kit. She wants me to confess to well, not doing what we said we were doing in the chem lab. She doesn't know why we were really in there...I think."
"And if you don't...." Mike shrugged. "What's she gonna prove? Jacobs already believes us."

"But Mike, the judges, they'll believe the best lawyers. We probably can't even afford one. She also says she'll, she'll tell my parents." As if the mention of the people could summon them to take her away, she gripped onto his hand harder. Only Billie Joe knew, and maybe not even, (as far as Mike knew) what exactly was Wren's problem with her parents. Whatever it was, it was obviously not the stereotypical loving family situation. "If they know, they'll make me leave here." Her voice rose shrilly, "I can't go back there Mike, I just can't." Mike instinctively pulled her close, trying to shelter her from the terror of the world.
"You aren't going anywhere," he murmured into her soft hair. "Not if I can help it. We'll find a way to get through it."
"But we'll probably get expelled. I guess it doesn't bother me too much. But you can't, you've always said that you want to graduate." Mike set his jaw firmly.
"I will. I'm not gonna let some bitch take away what I want. We'll fight this out. I'll...." He frowned, trying to think of something.
"Sic Tré on her?" Wren supplied.

An image of Tré on a leash, foaming at the mouth and growling made Mike chuckle. Some other images, unbidden, followed. Furious, he shut his eyes and breathed in Wren's scent. Concentrate on her. On her. She's pregnant, shouldn't that be enough keep your mind on business? "We can't do this alone," he told her after a moment's thought. "Do you mind if we tell the others? I think that in this case, we need all the brain power we can get."

Wren sighed and relaxed against him. It made his chest swell with pride that she was trusting him to take care of things. "Let's go do this then. The sooner we get her out of our way, the sooner we can get on with life." Emphasising the last word, he kissed her forehead. Even before they entered the house, they could hear the staccato beat of a snare drum, battling it out with a guitar being strummed as fast as possible. Standing close together, Mike and Wren entered the living room. Both Tré and Billie were staring intensely at their instruments, giving their all. Despite the coolness of the weather, they were both sweating. The speed duel only ended when there was a loud snap.

Tré clutched his wrist, "Oh my God, I think I broke it," he gasped, face twisted in agony. Mike started to walk over, and then Tré grinned. "Yep I broke it." He waved the shattered stump of a drumstick. Mike tried to grin back, but he just could not manage it. Everything still came to him through a dull haze. Billie Joe looked up, wiping sweaty hair out of his eyes.
"Hey, are you two alright? You look sort of sick." Mike looked to Wren, who kept her eyes down. Taking the hint, Mike started to deliver the news.
"Wren and I...we, uh." He found it more difficult to go on as he saw sympathy in both his pals' faces. Not knowing how to do this, he ran his hand through his hair. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. Tré squealed and clapped his hands.
"Ooooh! Charades! How many words?"

"I don't think its time to screw around," Billie Joe said quietly. "Is it really bad?"
"Not bad...not all of it." He took a deep breath. "You guys know how, we sort of...uh, er." Mike frowned as he tried to find a polite way to say this. "You know," he gestured hazily, hoping they'd catch on.
"Can't keep yourselves under control, have a wild desire to rape each other senseless? Yeah we know that." Billie Joe set down his guitar and propped his elbow on his knee.
"For the record," Wren piped up. "We only did it twice." Tré started to grin and opened his mouth.
"Shut up," Mike told him in advance. "If you two weren't always hanging around, maybe we'd have more action."
"Excuses, excuses," Tré said loftily. In retaliation, Mike hummed a couch cushion at him.

Billie Joe's hazel eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Are you guys saying what I think you might be saying?"
"I think that they're saying something to get us to think about something that they don't want us saying but something all of us are thinking anyway and know that we're all thinking about but don't want anyone guess what we're thinking about, because it might not be the thing we're all thinking about or the something which they're saying something to get us to think about something they have trouble saying." Everyone stared at Tré. He shrugged. "That made sense, you just have to think," he widened his eyes to emphasize, "about it very carefully."

Mike plunked down on the couch, Wren beside him. "So do you guys get what we're telling you?"
"Yeah, I think so." Billie Joe shook his head.
"A baby!" squealed Tré. "And here I was thinking you were going to say that you two were going to, you know, do something boring like break up. Well, that's just a slap and a tickle..." he paused an eyed them suggestively, "...or maybe the product of some slapping and tickling."
"How are we gonna practise with a baby around?" Billie Joe wondered slowly.
"Tré's around all the time, you can manage," Wren said.
"Hey!" Tré grumped. "That was uncalled for." Sulkily, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and started sucking.

"Long story short, our nice little friend Mirabelle is stirring up shit." In a few short sentences, Mike gave the guys the summary of events. An identical, calculating, and steely look flickered in both Billie Joe and Tré's eyes. Patiently, Mike waited for the verdict. Thoughtfully, Billie Joe ran his fingers along his bottom lip. Tré crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, tapping the shattered stick on his chin. After a moment of silence, a pure evil expression crossed Billie Joe's face. Tré shifted his eyes to Billie Joe and nodded to himself.
"We're taking this bitch aaaalllll the way down."