Fandom: Tokyo Hotel; Twincest (Tom / Bill)
Title: Get Back
Author: Misako93
Rating: R
Genre: Drama, Angst, Introspective, Hurt / Comfort
Alerts: Rape, Violence, Drug Use, Adult Content.
Date drafting : August 23, 2008
Summary:
I do not want to walk away. It 'just came back, though again it would go away really die.
Notes: This fanfiction was written last year for a contest community Kaulitzestita . I must admit that I do not remember "XD I had to reread it before you publish here. E 'curious, but it happens often with my shots. Maybe because I write so cast ... Anyway. In theory this should be one shot, but incredibly was a bit 'too long. So I split in two.
- Hey Tomi ...
The feeble voice of Bill greeted me and my sister fell unconscious at my feet in the doorway of my house.
I pretend not to know how many years since I saw my brother, but unfortunately I remember only too well the date and circumstances of his death.
was on July 11 a decade ago when Bill, after a concert, disappeared nothing. As usual he had fled from the stage before the rest of us, but when we went backstage, ready to celebrate the night just ended, we realized that Bill was not there. I always wondered how he managed to evade the bodyguard. And then the fans. How had he escaped without being chasing horde of girls eager for autographs and photos Assatanate crammed in and out of locations? It had not been kidnapped, because we knew Bill had disappeared with a small cosmetic bag with his tricks and his leather jacket.
natural to try to contain the news of his death, but it was clear that "Bill is unwell and can not sing tomorrow" sounded very as a stratospheric bullshit. The truth leaked out quickly and began to panic. So he opened the hunting Bill Kaulitz, attended by police, friends, fans worried and modern bounty hunters who hope to gain something.
After five years of fruitless searches, the German state Bill Kaulitz declared legally dead.
were five years of hell for me, during which I experienced drugs, psychotropic drugs and depressions at will. I do not think so and I had found drugs in the fastest way out. It was unthinkable to seek escape in the sound of my guitar as I did in the past, I had also tried, but when my fingers inevitably ended up playing the chords of In die Nacht, I threw in the towel. And I began to do shit. I do not boast. It took me quite hard to get out to even think to try again. That stuff is crap and tried it on my skin, my flesh. In my veins. But Bill was too important. Bill was too present in my head even when there was not.
The real problem, I realized with a clear mind afterwards, was that I never had any idea of why Bill is gone. Even now I do. And for years I have done something wrong, that crushed me. Not that it is now lighter, mind you. But now they are too resigned to anything to feel guilt.
I had never noticed anything strange, the days prior to his escape Bill had never shown signs of sadness or stress, or problems of any kind. Indeed, the whole band was dragged by his enthusiasm for the tour, Gus and George were more active than ever and stupid, and I had met Denise, who shortly thereafter, if Bill had not disappeared, throwing into the abyss of despair, could have become perhaps the first serious girlfriend I ever had the time of Devilish. He was really excited, it was not - as some have assumed - fiction, its vitality, was the small sun always, star of our group that brought light, joy and desire to break the stage with our music.
Bill likened to a star is an image in my head is perfect.
A star at the end of his career, can become a white dwarf, a star is tiny and almost invisible with time to become gradually fainter until it disappears altogether and end up in oblivion, becoming a dwarf black, is what usually happens to celebrities of little importance.
But those are small stars.
The biggest stars explode at some point, making an uproar, and become supernovae, often destined to become neutron stars, and then to collapse.
That 's what happened to Bill, and its explosion coincided with the time of his death.
Bill has become a black hole.
E 'sunk in the surface space-time by creating a funnel in which all ends in without possibility of release.
I know I did. Tom Kaulitz, guitarist of Tokio Hotel, has been sucked into a black hole that it has canceled, and was reduced to almost any thirties who lives in the shadow of nostalgia for the twin brother probably died.
I was a terrible lump in my throat as I bent down towards the corpse of the dead worried about my brother.
- Bill - called the plan. Too many times I repeated the vacuum, that name. So many that now seemed almost nonsensical. Hardly seemed to me that really was once belonged to a person.
picked him up, astonished at her too lightly. Ten years ago it was not so skinny. It was not ever so much. The
adagiai on the couch feeling close to the stomach.
- Bill?
I feel like a thirteen year old to his first crush. Indeed.
A thirteen year-old, a thirteen-year madly in love that feels the need to call her best friend at two in the night to confide in her. I do
punishment alone.
I push the door up. Is not that who wants to disturb. I just wanted to tell him. It should make him happy. After all, my brother, even if it is not the night he will be sorry ...
Suddenly I no longer want to give so much to Bill's great news ... it is not so important!
- Enter Tom, is a moment in the bathroom, I'll be right!
Ok. Now I'm sure it's a bad idea. Even if it is my sister and I love him, and now I'm used to, I hate to be around when in "fairy-mode".
Check the bathroom wrapped in a towel a bit 'short for his height, systems such as certain models of deodorant commercials, from the armpits to the thighs almost completely uncovered.
"It fuckin 'sexy' think my brain before I can stop him.
"no," the reproach mentally he is not sexy, is the image of the model of deodorant. I just made a mental association ... "
So why can not I watch it without having to swallow?
- Here I am - he smiles, rubbing his hair with a towel. - What is it?
- I-I ... uhm ... - I is mixed language.
- sit down, yes? - Bill invites me snuggled in turn and crossing her legs.
I sit a bit 'stiff beside him. - Do you know ... the girl that I showed you at the party ...? - Started a bit 'hesitant.
- M-mh, Mora last night, no? You've got this ... - Bill replied after a pause.
- Here ... I asked the mobile phone number ... and I have a date tonight!
Bill opens his mouth in amazement. Or at least ... the expression in his eyes is so dense that even I - his sister - I struggle to untangle. I suppose it is surprised. Well .. I have an appointment! Tom Kaulitz that for once does not have a night stand is an event!
- An appointment!? With a girl?
- Hey, go out there with the boys, me! - Exclaimed, laughing. Seeing the words of Bill darkening me realize that I have offended.
- Bill did not mean to say ... I know that you're not gay! I told you wrong ... In short I'm sorry.
stretched a smile off - No I know, everything is ok.
mind, and I know. I know I hurt. It is now so tired and irritated by the constant criticism of his look and he's tired of the various plate against which it is going to crash everywhere to be able to endure the comments of us guys band, even though they are only jokes.
- Be ', great - comments - I'm glad you finally have a girlfriend ...
- Not yet but ... We hope so! I really like Denise. She's got beautiful eyes and is very nice and funny. Will appeal to you, you'll see!
Bill smiles wearily. - I'm sure ... I hope not to find it rather annoying I would be a problem.
- It'll be the obnoxious! No one is nasty. - I smile to myself.
- But now I wanted to go to bed ... I'm sorry to go in your room? If you do not sleep at least some time tomorrow I'll ko .. and farewell concert ... and you too have to sleep, otherwise you're not gonna quit ... with Denise. Not many compliments
me to the door, gives me a kiss on the cheek and slams the door in my face.
never went appointment with Denise, why Bill disappeared the same day. Perhaps
had planned on purpose, knowing that after the concert I was supposed to come out with this girl, he could leave without him I could have prevented.
But why? Why?
I've thought long and hard. I believe he was a boy. Or at least he was in love.
Perhaps it was my line output with the boys to have him upset. Maybe he thought that if he really put a guy I would not have accepted, so he preferred to leave. In Bill
therapy often dreamed of a boy in her arms while she cried because of me, her cruel sister who hated him because homosexual. The boy finally hugs him and kiss him on the lips.
One night I woke up suddenly after that dream: that boy was my face.
Bill throws his towel to the crowd and goes backstage as holed up at every concert. I, Gustav and Georg remain on stage.
It 's too funny to play with fans. Here they are, while screaming, hoping that the pick of Georg or chopsticks Gustav arrive in their hands, triggering lively skirmishes around their trophies ...
After being teased a bit 'at the end also soak my towel and I'm going to stick to the side of the stage, watching the drummer launching the wave from the top of a platform.
We embrace the three of us, once safely beyond our bodyguard.
- and it went too! - Georg exclaimed happily.
- Already ... and now I'm going to get dressed up for my lady, if you please! - Wink.
- Ah, yes that Tom has an appointment today! Bill said what?
- He said he is happy for me ... but by the way, where's Bill? I have not seen yet ... - I see account, suddenly worried. Bill is waiting for us backstage, usually, before returning to her dressing room to remove make-up and cool down for a moment.
Where the hell have you been??
pass a few hours of mad pursuit, but are unable to perceive the passage of time. Everything is suspended, caught up in the terrible feeling of emptiness and absence which fills my lungs and stomach. I feel suffocated, but we do not want to believe.
But that sort of horrid jam incorporeal called panic that overwhelms me only mean one thing: Bill has really disappeared.
I watch her breathing move a strand of light hair that has slipped on his face.
My fingers touch the strings of the guitar, once again spreading the notes of our song. The notes of that song that he wrote and sang only for me.
E 'has happened countless times in front of an audience of fans crying, screaming and compassion. But he has always looked to me just as the words came from his lips.
Those same lips that are now in semischiuse slightly troubled expression.
seems that for years he did not pass, it is the same as then, I can not find the signs of aging on her body.
The scars of a long winter, however, mark his skin, tears fossil dig furrows in his pale cheeks, his eyes sunken dark shadows, deeply incised crescents where her long fingernails have penetrated into the palms.
has not said a word, nor opened his eyes, but his studying the physical evidence I can see her pain, the difficulties he had to live, the cruelty that has been exposed; those bruises if he is not made certainly by myself, and I was not there when they were inflicted. I had been able to protect him, I could not help him.
"... You escaped my fault? E 'is the question that puts pressure on my lips to exit, while the silence pressed on my ears smashing eardrums.
I do not have the courage to ask you while your eyes are still closed, I do not have the courage to break the vacuum that the guitar was left blank. Suddenly I am sorry to have it placed on the floor at my feet, to take your fragile hand and cold in my attempt to heat it up, feel alive again, as before our first exhibition, to calm you down when you squeezed the ice and trembling. Clean your skin is so different from how I remembered it, do not even remember when was the last time I saw you make-up. Lowered eyelids nude black dall'ombretto seem so light, so dangerously on the verge of open. I'm afraid of your eyes. I do not want to see us in your sentence on me, at least I hope you are forgiving. I hope at least ... "
hold my breath while his eyelids tremble a little and then opens his eyes. After a moment of slight disorientation, he looks at me.
His hazel irises are so different from then. They are veiled in guilt and sadness. Wet with bitter tears swallowed too many times.
stronger squeeze his hand to his lips and me trying not to cry.
sat up beside me and smiles.
a tired smile and uncertain, he smiles the smile of someone not because he has the strength to do it, but because wants to deceive the world that everything was going, and it will go well for him when the word "hope" has become a utopia because every hope has flown away like ashes in a cruel wind.
I hated that smile. Too many times I had seen him without knowing him, and even now it reminds me of the profound disgust for myself that has haunted me over the years.
Bill's smile cracks as soon as my thoughts reach it. He looks away from mine, wiggles his hands from my grasp and is enclosed in a guilty silence.
No. .. I do not want to walk away. It 'just came back again if he was leaving he would die really.
raised his chin with two fingers. My eyes again are reflected in her.
Tomi, I read in the core of his irises. Desperate. Supplicant.
(Eager)
cradling her face She takes the shape of his jaw thin in the palms of my hands wide. Again her eyes beyond my breaking that contact just established.
can touch the lump in his throat. The movement of swallowing. The slight vibration of his vocal cords.
- Ssst. - Silenced him gently.
Then I reset the distance between our faces. Between me and his lips made of wax. The most wrong in our lives, but more comfort just yet.
soon as the time to notice the salt that washes the mouth and Bill burst into tears, burying her face in my shirt. The kiss my hair, feeling the familiar smell of her tears spread like incense in the room air.
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