Blackbirds

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

​A week later and they'd won their game, Mike having hit three for four with three RBI's. The team was glad to see him back on his feet again. But Mike knew that a lot of the team got along with him because he was the best there. Not many of them were his actual friends. He was friends with Dave and another guy, Brad. That was it. Oh well. He changed quickly and then hopped in Brad's car. They were going to have some dinner and celebrate their first victory.

​"Two more wins and we get to the next round!" Brad called happily as they blasted music through the speakers. Mike laughed. It had started to rain which kind of dampened the mood but nothing could kill their spirits.

​"And it's out off Shinoda's bat and out of the park!" Dave yelled. Mike grinned.

​"And that's ten strikeouts for Farrell!"

​"And an amazing catch by Delson!"

​"SOLDIERS WIN!" they all shouted.

​"We are going to go deaf," Brad said with a laugh as they turned onto the street where Burger King was.

​"Mmm, Have it your way," Dave said with a grin. Mike snickered and punched Dave in the shoulder. He was sitting in the backseat so he had easy access to Dave's shoulder and the back of his head.

​"I want fries," Mike said as he glanced down at his phone, checking to see if he had messages.

​"Yea so do I. Whoa. I can't see shit," Dave said wiping a hand on the window, "Turn your wipers on."

​"They're broke," Brad replied. Dave gave him a look of disbelief.

​"Then why the hell are we driving in your junkyard shit?"

​"Hey its not junk!"

​Mike sighed, "Guys don't fight!"

​"Fuck you Mike! Brad's in idiot!"

​"Fuck you Dave! It's not my fault!"

​"Oh its definitely your fault!" Mike said angrily.

​"Tell him Mike!" Dave said crossing his arms.

​"Fuck both of you!"

​That was the last thing Mike heard before Dave pointed and screamed. A truck had slid off its side of the road and was coming straight for them. Mike yelled and Brad tried to brake and turn at the same time. It all happened in slow motion for him. They turned and Mike found himself being faced with a sliding truck. Dave screamed again. Brad was cursing. And then everything went black.

​He opened his eyes and found himself staring at a bright white ceiling. Hospital. It must be. He slowly pushed himself onto his elbows. Something was going wrong. Where was Dave? Brad? He calmed himself down. They were probably ok.

​"Ah, you're awake," a doctor came in and glanced at him, "How do you feel?"

​"Not bad. Are the others ok? Dave? Brad?" he asked.

​"They're fine. Though you were out for a relatively long time. Two days total. The truck hit you quite hard. Are you sure you're ok?"

​"Yea," Mike said frowning. Why did this guy keep asking him about it?

​"Ok. One of your friends is waiting for you. I'll let him in."

​"Mike!" Dave called as he ran in a minute later. Mike smiled at him.

​"God, I'm glad you're ok," he said quietly. Dave nodded.

​"Oh god Mike. I'm so sorry man. And the whole crash. Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry," Dave whispered lowering his head. Mike frowned.

​"What? The crash wasn't your fault."

​"You mean......," Dave looked at him and then he swallowed, "they didn't tell you?"

​"Didn't tell me what?"

​"Mike.........just......," Dave took the blanket in his hand and slowly uncovered his body. Mike couldn't believe it. He had metal sticking out of the place that the second half of his leg should be. His normal arm stopped at the elbow and was replaced with metal as well.

​"I....I...," Mike whispered.

​"Mike....you can't run like this. You can't swing like this. You can't play," Dave said, "I'm so sorry."

​Mike slowly sat up and tried to move his fingers. He got a little response. When he tried to move his leg, he felt like he was trying to move a brick. His eyes filled with tears.

​"The truck hit you head on. The bones in your arm and leg cut through everything. You were so close to being dead by the time the paramedics came that there was nothing they could do. The bones were too damaged to fix."

​"It's not your fault Dave. You had no idea this would happen," Mike said. And he realized that he would be forced to leave the team after this. He whimpered quietly and Dave sat down before ruffling his hair.

​"Brad feels really guilty. There's nothing he could've really done either though. But he thinks that since he turned the car, its his fault you got hit."

​"Please tell him it's not his fault," Mike said as he stared up at the ceiling.

​"It's not the end Mike....you can still get a job and everything."
​
​"I get it Dave. Just.....can I be alone?" he asked softly. Dave nodded and gave him a pat on the shoulder before getting up and walking out. He cried. As soon as Dave left, he was a crying mess. He'd lost everything that he'd ever cared about. He'd lost his chance to do what he did best. He eventually exhausted himself enough that he fell into a half-sleep. He had a weird dream. He was standing on the baseball diamond in his half-robot body but instead of the team being around him. Chester Bennington's sulking form appeared on home plate. He kept telling Mike to throw the ball but he couldn't since his arm was now part robot. Eventually he got angry. Chester glared at him and Mike watched as the boy rolled up a dollar bill and then leant down and slowly snorted up the white color of home plate. Mike wanted to go to him and tell him to stop. He tried to move but his mechanical leg wouldn't move. He reached his hand out as Chester rolled his eyes at him and then slowly pushed a needle into his vein. A quiet calmness spread over the entire stadium. Chester smiled at him and then walked closer.

​"Aren't you glad you're free of me?"

​He slowly blinked his eyes open and looked down at the useless half of his body. He heard a discussion coming from near him so he kept his eyes shut.

​"Are you sure about this?"

​"And you think he's just going to deal with this by himself?" That was Dave. He was arguing with the doctor.

​"I suppose you are right. I have one in the building right now who has finished up a session. I'm sure he'd be willing to take on a new task."

​"Thank you sir. I just....this made him very upset."

​"I believe it is a good idea as well. I will go and look for him. I'll bring him in."

​Mike sighed. They were going to bring someone in so he could talk. He didn't have any problems. He could cope by himself. He could never play baseball game again but he would be able to do something. Maybe he could assistant coach. No, the team wasn't looking for an assistant coach. He felt tears fill his eyes again. And then there were footsteps. He looked up and stared at the man above him. He was very young as well. He had to be his age. He was that young and he was a therapist? Mike looked at him. The man had brown hair that swished up in a wave in the front. He had a flannel shirt buttoned up to the top with a pair of black pants on. The pants he wore were close fitting and then got lost in the pair of black combat boots on his feet. He had earrings in and a thin jacket was covering most of his upper body. The man gave him a slight smile.

​"Hello there," he said. Mike was still staring at him. He was so not the therapist looking person. But the way he carried himself was so crazy. He had authority and he knew it. And his voice was quiet and slightly high pitched.

​"You're Mike Shinoda correct?" the man asked and Mike found himself nodding.

​"And you play baseball for U of A? And you're the victim of that nasty car crash a few days ago."

​Mike nodded again. He still couldn't speak. He swallowed and looked away. This guy was going to try and help him. He didn't want any help. But he was so normal. He didn't even look like a therapist. The man gave him a small smile and then sighed.

​"Sorry. My vision is the worst thing in the world. It's a lot less than 20-20," the man shrugged as he dug through his little briefcase and pulled out a pair of thin black framed glasses. "That's better."

​Mike found a small smile creep onto his face. He didn't want it to but it did. The man smiled at him again.

​"Hey I made you smile. I guess that's step one," he said softly. Mike shook his head slightly.

​"Why don't you just ask about my issue already?" he muttered.

​"Because that would be rude and I think you'll tell me what it is eventually. What's the point of asking?"

​Mike looked up at him in shock. The man gave him another grin. He still didn't even know the guy's name. He sighed.

​"Well I'm not saying anything today. You might as well leave," he said. The man nodded at him and then closed his case and stretched his arms over his head.

​"Ok. Well I'll see you tomorrow then."

​"Fine," Mike said. The man turned and walked towards the door. But Mike couldn't help the final question coming out of his mouth.

​"What's your name?" he asked. The young man froze and turned around. His brown eyes stared straight into Mike's for a moment before giving him a small smile.

​"Oh Mike, it's too bad you forget things. I told you it before. Call me when you think of it ok?" the man said with a smile. Mike stared at him as he left. He'd never said his name. Or.....had he really forgotten? Had the crash done something to his head? He sighed and leaned back. Dave was supposed to take him back to his house tomorrow. Maybe that guy could leave him after that.