Title: Wrong

Author: Amy B.

Fandom: Hard Core Logo

Pairing: Joe/Billy

Rating: R

Date: April 24, 2000

Archive: yes, please.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Ownership goes from Michael Turner right on down the line. I'm not making any profit off this or anything else.

Any and all comment appreciated at:

Note: This piece has begged to be written ever since I heard the Social Distortion song "I Was Wrong". But this is in no way a songfic, not even close--although if you do know the song and picture Joe singing it you will get a little snicker. Thanks to Mouse for beta and the ladies of Iron Craft for confidence boosting.

For nancy--Maybe it's not as goofy as I thought it would be.

Summary: I can't summarize this, just read it. ;-)

WRONG

By AmyB

"Billy, Billy, Billy...what the fuck do you want from me? I know you want something. You want me to tell you once and for all how *sorry* I am for how I treated you?" Joe flicks his cigarette in Billy's general direction and says with mocking tenderness, "Will you finally be happy then? Poor little Billy with his complex life, so mistreated and fucked over."

Billy shudders and shakes his head, tongue-tied and feeling sick fear creeping through him. What could he possibly say? When Joe is on a roll, nothing's going to register with him anyway. "Well, Bill, I guess--after all we *been through* together--I guess I can give you what you want. Even if you never *really* did the same for me--you fucker."

Billy wants to say no. No, I did give you... you took... But he can't get a sound out of his mouth, can barely even draw a breath. The anticipation as Joe stares at him silently is awful, a dull ache beating against his ears. Just when he's sure his nerves are gonna snap, Joe flicks his lighter to the end of another cigarette and then exhales words and smoke, entwined and similarly cloudy. "I was wrong, Billy. I should have treated you better."

No, not happening. Never would happen, this is not happening. Billy doesn't know why Joe is suddenly talking like this, but he knows it's not right. He doesn't trust it and it almost hurts to hear words that he never expected, but always secretly wanted to hear. He knows with frightening clarity that hearing the words is like eating ground glass--no matter how smooth they go down, they'll tear up his insides eventually. He can only stand silent and wait for the bleeding to start. And Joe speaks again.

"I know I hurt you, Billy, and I'm sorry. I loved you, and I fucked you, fucked you over and that's not b-- whatever we were. I fucked myself up too." Smoke circles and engulfs Joe until Billy wonders if he's even there anymore, until that raspy voice comes again, sounding exhausted and a bit melancholy. Joe's eyes are sharp, though, as they burn through the haze and into Billy. "I see that now. I fucked myself over when I lost you. I missed you so much when you left for LA...I couldn't even see straight. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn't because it didn't do any good. You weren't coming back for me. So I lied. I had to, but you don't want to hear that, do you? Bucky didn't want to hear it, Bruce didn't want to hear it, Pipe, John, none of you fuckers wanted to hear about the pain that prompted the lie, did you?"

Joe laughs suddenly and it's an ugly sound that grates and tears at Billy until he wants to cover his ears, but then it stops and Joe gives him a narrow-eyed glance and a philosophical shrug. "You lied too, Billy. Your lie was much worse than mine ever thought of being. Because you fucking told me what I wanted to hear. You *told* me that you were coming back. You gave me the one thing I wanted and then ripped it away again, didn't you, Billy? Because you got a better offer."

Joe turns away as if to leave and Billy breathes a sigh of relief that maybe it's over, but then Joe turns back with a calm look that chills Billy right to his bones. "Anyway, I just want to say that I'm sorry. I was wrong and I'm very fucking sorry. So will you finally just let me rest the fuck in peace now, Billy?"

Billy wakes up from the nightmare bathed in a cold sweat, with his stomach all tied in knots. For a moment the dark closes in on him and he can't remember where he is. He swallows hard and breathes deeply and concentrates on not throwing up. Then he remembers...He's on the Jenifur tour bus, somewhere in Ohio or maybe Indiana, lying in his little bunk.

He stares up at the bunk above him--the drummer's making that wheezy sound again, not even a real snore. Billy's never felt so claustrophobic in his life and he tries to ground himself somehow. He tries to forget that success isn't always the wonderful thing that it's cracked up to be. He tries to forget the old days when touring was *harder* and playing music was more than a job. He tries desperately to forget Joe for the moment, but he can't because his spirit surrounds him, nearly crowds him out of the bunk.

He gets up as quietly as he can and goes into the bathroom, still not sure if he's gonna puke or not. Whether he does or not, he knows there'll be no more sleep for him, at least until the sun comes up.

He stares at his reflection and absently wonders why he looks so bad, when he's never been healthier. He hasn't had a night like this in months and he'd thought he was finally free of Joe. "But obviously, I was wrong," he whispers to himself and for just a moment he hears the echo of Joe's laughter in the words. A feeling of vindication brings a slight smile to his face when he considers that Joe's not quite free of *him* yet either.

The End