(Even When It's Not) About You

Promises I Can't Keep

It never mattered how quiet Mike tried to be in the middle of the night, Rob always heard him get up. It had been weeks now since his return from Portugal, and he had all but moved into the spare room in the Shinoda house. It was right across the hall from the studio, and despite the carefully constructed soundproofing, Rob heard every time when Mike went into the room.

He lay very still under the wine red blanket on the guest room bed, listening to Mike move around the upstairs. It was true; he'd never meant to stay for so long, for the guest closet to have his shirts hanging in it or for his pants to be folded in the dresser. He hadn't meant for the en suite bathroom to hold his toothbrush, his shower supplies, or his clippers. He hadn't meant for his bathrobe to find its way over to Mike's to hang on the small hook next to the shower, or for his shoes to be in a neat line at the bottom of the closet. It had happened gradually and naturally while he tried to help Mike navigate his grief. While he stayed to be the support Mike needed instead of running away again.

Rob couldn't leave him at the big house alone, not after Mike told him Anna left with the children. The night he came back from Portugal and they slept on the couches together, there hadn't been much rest. Mike only slept in brief stints between restless dreams, and his tossing and turning kept Rob awake. When Mike finally gave up and went into the kitchen, Rob followed him. It was Rob's idea to replace the whiskey with hot tea, and they sat at the breakfast table together in the darkness. He'd tried to gently tell Mike that drinking wasn't going to bring Chester back.

Don't you think I know that? Mike had answered him bitterly. It's the only way I can sleep. It's the only way I can stop thinking about him long enough to get any rest, but then the dreams come. There was a haunted, faraway look in Mike's eyes. We'd planned so much together, Bourdie. Things for the band, things for us... so many plans and promises, and now all I'm left with is regrets.

He wasn't exactly babysitting Mike, but Rob couldn't leave his friend alone, not now. Not knowing how everything had fallen apart the last time he left. And now Mike was awake again, and Rob sat up in the bed, pushing back his hair before he reached for his glasses. He took a moment to mentally prepare himself before got up.

It was hard, listening to Mike ramble about Chester in the middle of the night. Night time was when the secrets started to come out. Night time was when Rob learned that the affair had been going on far longer than he'd imagined. Night time was when Mike admitted the first time he'd kissed Chester was all the way back at a release party for Hybrid Theory. Night time was when Mike admitted how crushed Chester had been when he married Anna, right as things fell apart with Sam. Night time was when Rob learned how Mike had convinced Chester to record and tour One More Light. Night time was when all the guilt and anger came out. It seemed easier for Mike to talk under the cover of darkness.

It was chilly when he stood up from the bed, and Rob reached for his robe and slippers. He slid his long arms inside the robe, arranging his pajama shirt before he tied the belt and stuffed his feet into his sherpa lined slippers, then opened the bedroom door and listened. He was good at listening. The house was completely silent, and in that way he knew Mike was in the studio. He didn't even knock after he took the four steps across the hallway to the studio door. He let himself in, and found Mike on the sofa, his head leaned back into the cushions and his fingers curled around a mug. Good. It's not whiskey. "Hey," he called softly from where he'd stopped at the corner of Mike's desk.

Mike didn't look up. "I brought you a cup," he answered, motioning toward the desk without looking. This same scenario had played out so many times Mike didn't think twice about making his houseguest a second cup of tea. Even though he drank his with a teaspoon of honey, he knew Rob drank his with no sweetener and always brought it up to the studio that way.