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It's Your Choice	By : coldblood Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Linkin Park Views: 2004 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Linkin Park. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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So here we go! I decided to continue the story just so I can clear up the lose ends and of course for everyone that wanted me to continue (Thanks Anon) so yeah. Here Chester is once again.

Please note I may be slower to update this story, I've got like a million other things going on at the moment >.< so bear with me.

~~~

Chester jolted awake - at first he wasn’t sure of where he was - maybe in the hotel room sleeping alongside Mike - but then...
No.
Mike was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious.
Chester turned his gaze and found Samantha lying in the next hospital bed, but she was awake.
“Chester - you’re awake - Mike...” Samantha sat up. “Mike... He went mad... What happened?”
Chester swallowed and looked down at his hands.
“There was a fight.” Chester answered at last.
“Who with? You? Chester... What exactly was going on...?” Samantha went to put her hand on Chester’s shoulder - but he recoiled from her touch.
“Don’t touch me.” He whispered.
“Why not? What’s wrong? Chester - would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Samantha snapped.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The singer mumbled.
His wife sighed and sat back.
“Right. You don’t want to talk about it. Why not? Why is Mike in hospital - why am I in hospital for that matter - and what the hell are they doing here?!” Samantha suddenly noticed and threw a nasty glare at the rest of Linkin Park.
“Hey, don’t look at us! We know as little as you do!” Rob exclaimed indignantly.
“THEN GET OUT!!!” Samantha roared.
Everyone scooted.
“Chester Bennington?” An officer poked his head through the open doorway.
“Yep. I’m coming.” Chester stood up and walked towards the door, refusing to look Samantha in the eye.
He stopped in the doorway before walking out.
“I’ve got to go and give a statement. I’ll be back later.” Chester said into his chest, and then he walked out, leaving Samantha - his wife, lover, the breath in his lungs - behind, confused, angry and very... Very - upset.
The officer led Chester out and down to an awaiting police car, several more officers surrounded him and protected him from the surging reporters, snapping pictures and shouting endless questions.
Like only a few times before, Chester just wished they would all go away.

“... It was all my fault.” Chester finished.
“Okay then. Thank you Mr. Bennington, you can go now. We’ll have you all under surveillance for now just so we can look after everyone in this mess.” The officer said, stopping the recorder.
Chester nodded sullenly and stood up, letting himself be escorted out to a car and be driven back to the hotel.
It was closing into the evening by the time he walked up the stairs to his room.
Wearily, the singer unlocked the door, entering and relocking the door behind him, sighing and touching his forehead to the cold wood.
“Hello Chester.” The voice came out of nowhere - Chester gasped and jumped - spinning around to find Mike, standing there with a smirk on his face.
“Mike! How - you - where -?” Chester struggled to get the jumble of words into sense.
Mike laughed.
“No worries Chaz. You know the hotel staff always have backup keys.” Mike coolly walked up to the panicked man and backed him into a corner.
“I never meant it to be that way Chazzy... I really didn’t...” Mike murmured into Chester’s ear as he pushed himself against the smaller man.
“Mike... No... Oooh!” Chester moaned, finding himself once again in the clutches of Mike’s irresistible force, captured in a kiss.
Mike sniggered and bit into Chester’s neck, grinding their erections against each other hard.
“Mike! Please!” Chester groaned.
“Shh...” Mike smirked and kissed Chester deeply. “I’ll go back. I’ll play your game.”
He reached down and unzipped Chester’s pants.
“Oh! Mike!” Chester gasped, arching his hips into Mike’s hands, letting the emcee caress him through the material’s opened sheath.
“I’m yours Chaz. I always was, and I want to be yours. Always.” Mike lowered his eyes, and Chester’s gaze followed, watching as a snake slithered out of his unzipped cargoes and up his chest.

“No!” Chester gasped, bolting upright.
The dawn was coming in through the closed curtains, the birds were singing and the sounds of cars down in the streets below filled the air.
The sun had risen hot and high over the city and from what he could gather he had slept the best part of the day.
With a miserable whimper Chester cradled his head in his hands and took deep jarring breaths, the sound almost like that of crying.
But he wasn’t - he just didn’t have the strength.
So Chester merely choked the tears back and got up, already weary of the day and wanting to go back to sleep.
He stood up and threw on yesterday’s clothes, tousling his sweat slicked hair to make it look as though he had bothered to spike it up and then headed for the door.
Mike would be released from the hospital today, Samantha already had been, but since Chester refused to talk to her she had decided to stay at a friend’s house.
As for the rest of the guys, Chester had no idea.
Mike and Chester had both in the end agreed on a version of the events that had happened - even though Chester hated having to lie so blatantly about it - also hating having to talk to Mike.
He had had no desire to ever look at Mike again, but it, along with other things was just what he had to do.
Now... What was the time?
Chester sighed at his broken watch and went to open the door, looking down just at the right instant to catch sight of a small envelope slipped in from under the door.
Musing over what it was - who had sent it - and why, the singer picked it up and pulled out the note inside.

Hey baby, it’s me. I just had to let you know I’m sorry for putting you through that shit. Sam will be okay? And the guys?
Anyway, I’m going to finish your decision for you, I know it was a heavy situation to put on your shoulders, but I just don’t want to have you walk on me for some chick, even if it was Sam. I know how special she is so... Yeah.
Don’t come chasing me bub, it’s just the way it has to be.
The ship’s leaving port now (it’s pretty cool I might add)... I figure I’ll finish it when the sun sets... I dunno what time that is exactly, six or something.
Whatever.
Anyhow, take care of yourself Chaz.
Mike.

Chester dropped the note, stunned.
“Mike - fuck no... Don’t...” Chester whispered.
He clutched the crucifix necklace he had worn since the shooting tightly, stumbling stupidly over prayers he had learnt at the last church mass he had gone to.
Chester had never believed in anything of that sort before the shooting, but since then he had just been totally thrown and before he knew it, he was totally engrossed in the only place that dealt with life after death.
Questions had come up frequently in his mind about death and where one would go after it, he constantly asked himself if the guy upstairs would forgive Mike for his insanity - or his own ideas.
“... Amen.” Chester finished the prayer and stuffed the necklace back under his shirt and (from what he could gather) the suicide note into his pocket, then hurried out the door.
Reaching the outside world, he practically dived into a cab.
“Where to?” The cab driver asked.
“A - a I dunno. Port? Jetty?” Chester struggled to gather his breath and thoughts. “Wherever ships come in or go...”
He turned around and looked at Chester in uncertainty.
“Hey man, this is San Francisco. There’s more than one harbor.” He said.
“I don’t care! Just take me to the nearest fucking one!” Chester snapped.
“Okay.” The driver settled back in his seat and pushed down on the accelerator.

The drive took a fair while, and the driver got a healthy sum out of Chester for it, but the singer couldn’t care any less than he did then.
Chester only grunted a thanks and strode away, towards the building close to the jetty’s beginning.
He guessed that it was a warehouse of some kind, and he placed any bet that he’d find Mike there... Or at the very least he hoped.
Instinctively Chester clutched the crucifix from under the fabric of his shirt.
Upon entering the building, Chester found himself engulfed in darkness; the little light that did enter seemed only to be a deep blue shade that even then barely penetrated the interior of the warehouse.
Damn this place is big, Chester thought.
His shoulder brushed against low hanging chains making them clank together - Chester jumped, utterly surprising himself at his own edginess as he spun away from the chains.
A hand fell on his shoulder.
“Ah!” Chester squealed, spinning again to face the nameless being.
He came nose to nose with none other than Mike, looking more gorgeous than ever, a seductive glint in his eye as he surveyed the smaller male.
“I told you not to come looking for me.” The emcee whispered, gliding his hand over the edge of Chester’s jawbone.
“I made the mistake once Mike. I’m not letting you go through with it.” Chester replied shakily.
He wanted to sound angry - he wanted to scream and rant until his face was blue - or run away, refusing to look at his love - but all of him just melted at the sight of Mike’s black clothed form.
The way the emcee was holding himself was a turn on too, with his hips arched to the side in a sexy curve as female models would in a pose for the camera.
No, Chester knew he was gone.
Mike had him under his delicious spell... And Mike knew it.
Suddenly the emcee’s thick lips split into a devastatingly gorgeous grin.
“I know you still have feelings for me Ches. Remind me one last time... Please...?” Mike whispered, pouting slightly, his eyes in that irresistible puppy eyes he had - no one - but no one could refuse a look like that.
Chester had learned that a long time ago - how many times had he fallen to that gaze?
“Mike no... Don’t do this to me...” Chester whimpered feebly.
Mike hushed him.
“Please?” He leant closer, brushing his lips against the singer’s.
Chester couldn’t fight anymore, surrendering himself completely to Mike’s touch, letting him coax open his mouth and explore, darting his tongue skillfully around Chester’s mouth.
Eventually they broke off, Chester resting his head on Mike’s shoulder, and Mike, burying his nose in the singer’s hair.
“C’mon Chaz... I want to show you something.” Mike murmured, taking Chester’s hand in his and leading him through the dim building.
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