Category Linkin Park
Leave it to the Waves
Disclaimer: I do not own Linkin Park, they own themselves.
Title: Leave it to the Waves
Rating: NC-17 (Slash)
Pairing: Mike Shinoda/Chester Bennington
Elements: Rape, Slash, Violence, Death, Profanity
Description: Trying to make his way from France to New York, Chester finds himself being ferried across the ocean by a fishing vessel. In exchange to work, Chester gets a free ride on the boat. However, more than deck work is expected of him and it is soon discovered that he will not be getting off the boat easily. Mike has been part of the crew for 5 years... Broken by the sea, can he save Chester from the same fate he has suffered, or will Chester save him?
Author note: I’ve been developing this in my head for about 4 months now.. Here’s to hoping is sounds good on paper as well! Too understand a little more about it, read the in chapter description as well!
It was weird not having him around; not seeing his face everyday. Yet, I reminded myself that this was for the best; this was how it had to be. There was no way for us to be together. We would never be able to have a normal relationship. Too much had happened in the short time we knew each other; we were different people. Just a shadow of who we once were... Someone I’m not sure ever even existed. The ocean has taken our identities.
Still, he remained in my dreams; he always would. I dreamt about his eyes; the shape forever burned in my memory. His smile; how did it manage to tame the rough currents? His scent; I felt secure when I could smell him near me. His laugh; I only heard it once or twice, but I swear it kept me breathing. His hands; they saved me. In every way that can be imagined, they saved me.
Yet, it was all lost. He was lost. I was lost without him. Our lives were, and always had been, oceans apart. The tide that slowly brought us together, pushed us apart and left everything we had to the waves.
It was nearly sunset in Dunkerque, France. Most of the ships and passengers had departed. The seaport was nearly empty except for the few last minute travelers getting into their taxis. The streetlights began to flood the port with an orange glow and illuminated the grey clouds in the sky. The small shops began to close their doors and turn out their lights, as the townhouses were seemingly more lively, as lights were turned on and outsiders could see the families preparing to have dinner.
A slender young male was not part of those warm festivities and instead was huddled outside in the cold on a lonely bench awaiting a cargo ship that would take him to Guatemala to pull into the now empty port. Once in Guatemala the man would set sail for New York. The ship was not set to arrive until eight thirty pm. It was now seven fifteen. The young man shivered as he pulled his jacket closer around him. He had one bag sitting next to him that contained all that he owned. A couple of shirts, a few pairs of pants and an extra sweater. He clutched onto the money in his pocket tightly, knowing if he lost any of it, his dreams of making it back to America would be ruined.
A gust of wind rustled the mans dark locks. His dark chestnut hair was cut close to his head, with longer strands on top that he carefully styled into a short mohawk. His cleanly shaven face was devoid of any piercing and suggested the man’s age to be in his early twenties. He had deep brown eyes and the only accessory he wore were small gauges in his ears. Under his jacket, one would be surprised to find a colorful array of art that danced across his arms and up onto his upper back.
Though it was nearly eight o’clock and he had been traveling since eight o’clock this morning, he was still full of excitement as he was getting ready for his next adventure. He didn’t have enough money to travel directly to New York, so when he heard of a cargo ship that would transport passengers to Guatemala, he figured this was his chance. He took a train from his small one room apartment in Lapalisse to Paris this morning to catch another train leaving Paris at one o’clock to Dunkerque. Reaching over for his bag, the young man opened the small side zipper and searched for his passport. The cargo ship would be arriving soon and he wanted to have everything ready. Finding it with ease, he opened the small leather booklet to ensure it had everything he needed. His name was listed as Chester Charles Bennington. His nationality American, weight was 130 lbs and height 5’-10”. Reading through his information, Chester jumped when he felt someone sit next to him.
“Avez-vous le temps?”
Chester looked over to see who has sat down next to him. An unknown man wearing a long black coat with black pants and shiny black dress shoes. He wore a black hate with a white scarf. Bewildered as to why this man would be out here, Chester fumbled for an answer. He looked much to nice to be waiting for a cargo ship. Though he couldn’t see the mans face, chills were sent up Chester’s spine just feeling the man sit close to him. Regaining composure, Chester motioned to the large clock that sat behind them, leading into the city. The man looked to where Chester was motioning and chuckled.
“Merci. Parlez-vous Français?”
“I suppose you speak more English?” The man graciously smiled and Chester caught a quick glimpse of his face underneath the hat. A clean shaven face, with deep blue eyes and dark eyebrows. Chester nodded as the man hid his face again. “Where are you headed? All the ships are gone.”
“I’m taking a cargo ship to Guatemala.” Chester stated this boldly. He didn’t want this man thinking he was better than him. Chester didn’t mind that he was poorer than most people he had met in France. He liked the fact that he had real adventures to tell and that he was able to truly see the world, for better or worse.
The man chuckled once again. “Ah, adventure. I remember those days.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver case. Opening it, he took two cigarettes out and offered one to Chester. Taking the cigarette, Chester put it to his mouth as the man lit it. He took a long drag on his before saying anything. “I’m Adolphe.”
“Chester.” Adolphe smiled as Chester shook his hand, allowing Chester to see the mans perfectly straight teeth. Checking the clock behind him the man turned back to Chester.
“When does your cargo ship arrive?”
Chester turned around to see it was nearly nine o’clock. “About thirty minutes ago.”
Seeing the despair in the young mans face, Adolphe took his hat off and turned to completely face Chester. Chester could now see the man had dark brown hair that was combed over to one side; every strand sat neatly in one place. “If it’s not to intrusive to you, I own a fishing vessel. It’s docked right there.” Adolphe pointed towards the east end of the dock to where a medium sized trawler sat bobbing up and down in the water. The body was a dark blue color, which had rusted away in some places. The wheelhouse was painted yellow, with the same specs of rusts. Attached to the masts were cords and ropes stemming down onto the decks. Written on the side of the vessel, facing Chester was the name: Ares. “I’m sailing to America. I know it’s not Guatemala, but it looks like your cargo ship isn’t coming.”
Chester heard the man’s offer, but didn’t reply. The thought of a fishing trawler docked in Dunkerque was odd to him. Why would a trawler be traveling to America? Chester didn’t know much about ships and boats, but he knew there was something weird about this situation. “Why are you sailing to America?”
Adolphe nodded at Chester’s question and acknowledged the young mans skepticism. “The boat is normally stationed off of Maine. Though the winter conditions took us off course and we wound up in Portugal and from there we have been sailing our way around Europe. Alas, it’s time we return home.”
Chester nodded, but still didn’t understand. “Why not just go back to Maine?”
“Adventure.” By now it was nearly nine thirty and Chester shivered more. It seemed the cargo ship wouldn’t be coming and he didn’t have enough money to go back to Lapalisse or to stay anywhere tonight. “I don’t require any money for you to board, since I am going back the way I came. I just have one requirement if you would like to sail with me and my crew.” Adolphe threw his cigarette on the ground, stood and stepped the butt out. He looked down at Chester who was eagerly awaiting his conditions. “You would have to work with my crew. We are always looking for good help and it’s a free ride to America. The crew will treat you like family and being on a trawler is one hell of an adventure.”
“Yeah. Yeah I’m in.” Chester stood and grabbed his bag. Who was he to pass up an adventure and a free ride to America. His final destination as it was. He had never worked on a boat before but figured the work couldn’t be that grueling if Adolphe willingly took in new, inexperienced help.
“Well then Chester, all aboard.” Adolphe lead the way to the docked ship as Chester followed after him; bidding France a sweet farewell. He would miss the country along with the variety of cities he had visited and lived in. France had treated him well and gave him the adventures he sought, but it was time to return home. He walked up the plank and into a small door. The room he entered in was below decks and dimly lit. There was a small bit of water on the floor. The cool water hit Chester’s nearly frozen feet and he shivered. “Oh that’s something you will have to get used to. It floods a bit down here. Nothing big, but since our ship was strewn across the ocean, it’s a problem we haven’t been able to fix quite yet.” Chester nodded as he walked deeper into the small hallway and noticed the water got deeper, it was nearly up to his ankles by now.
“Do I get a tour tonight or start working or something?”
“I like your eagerness, but no. Rest tonight and we will start fresh in the morning. I will leave you to your room with your bunk mates. They are nice guys and tomorrow they will give you a tour and it will be the official first day of your adventure.” Adolphe led Chester a small bit further down and stopped outside a ragged curtain. “It’s to give you a bit of privacy.” Adolphe knocked on an exposed wood beam and pulled the curtain open. Three pairs of eyes looked up from the small alcove towards Chester. Suddenly feeling shy, Chester felt his face flush at the attention. “Boys, this is a new deck hand. Treat him like we treat you and get him settled in. Chester, see you in the morning.” Adolphe squeezed Chester’s shoulder as he turned and left the young man standing next to the curtain. Two of the three pairs of eyes were still staring at him.
“Hey, I’m Chester.” Chester extended his hand out to one of the boys, only to have the young man turn away and continue reading the newspaper he was holding up. Chester looked at the newspaper and noticed it was about two weeks old. The man who was holding it looked to be about mid twenties and was a black man with strong features. He had a bit of facial hair on his chin and a little bit of hair on his shaved head. He was a skinny man and Chester figured he was around the same height as himself. All three boys had on a plain white shirt and khaki pants; well he assumed the pants were khaki. The clothes were filthy and the original color was barely noticeable.
The small alcove had two bunk beds placed side by side. There was no ladder leading up to the beds and no room to walk between them as they were butted up against each other. The black man was lying on the bottom of the bunk to the right of Chester. There were no pillows, just a white fitted sheet and a white flat sheet. Chester looked up to the top bunk on the right to see the other pair of eyes still staring at him. This man had dark brown hair that was a bit shaggy and mid length, just touching the back of his neck. He had light stubble around his chin and upper lip. His face gave his age to be around late twenties and his deep brown eyes still stared at Chester’s.
Still feeling awkward, Chester tried again to engage someone in conversation. “Hey.” He said this to the man still staring at him and was relieved when the guy sat up and jumped down from his bunk, splashing Chester and the guy’s newspaper.
“Dude. Fuck.” The young black man also sat up now in his bunk.
“Chill man.” Turning around to Chester, the man apologized for splashing him. “Sorry, but you get used to the water. I’m Fabrizio. Chester, right?”
Chester smiled, grateful someone was finally talking to him. “Yeah. So how long have you been working on here or are you being ferried over too?” Chester heard the black man chuckle and look to the man across from him. The man who was the first to take his eyes away from Chester. Chester looked over to him and immediately noticed the man’s eyes. Almond shaped, dark, and strong. There was a story to be told in them, but Chester didn’t know what. He had jet black hair that fell across his forehead and covered his eyes a bit. He had dark facial hair and Chester guessed he was around his age. He wanted desperately to know this man’s story, but he didn’t know why. His aura was alluring and that was odd to Chester. As the Asian turned and looked at him, Chester snapped his eyes away and looked towards the man who laughed.
“Ignore him. He’s a dick.”
“Dude, shut your mouth. Chester?” The man sat up fully on his bed as Chester nodded. “No one is ‘ferried’ on this boat dude. When you get on this boat, you don’t get off. It’s life.”
“Rory! Fucking shut up. Chester pay no attention. Where are you heading?” Fabrizio turned to Chester trying to ease the boy whose eyes were now wide.
“I’m uh, headed to America.” Again Rory let out a hoot and looked to the Asian, who still didn’t look up. “W-what?”
“Fabrizio don’t sugar coat it for the man. Lay the truth down.” Rory patted his bed for Chester to take a seat. Fabrizio sighed and grabbed Chester’s bag from him throwing it on the top left bunk, above the Asians bunk. He then poked his head out of the curtain and looked around before pulling it shut and taking a seat next to the Asian, who reluctantly moved over for the Italian. “I don’t mean to freak you out man, but I was headed to America about 6 months ago. Fabrizio was headed for Italy about a year ago. And Mike,” Rory pointed to the Asian who looked bored and uninterested in the subject. “He’s been heading to America for 5 fucking years.”
“What- what does that mean?” Chester looked around nervously. Rory just shook his head as Fabrizio looked down. “You’re fucking with me. This is like some initiation shit.” Chester attempted to laugh but noticed the seriousness in all three of the men’s faces. “Come on. This is insane. No way have you been on here for so long. You work here, right? And five years? Dude, wouldn’t you realize something was off after two weeks?” Still, the faces stayed serious and no one looked to Chester, except Mike looked up briefly when he mentioned him being there for five years. “Come on, wouldn’t you?”
Mike shook his head, “Fuck you.” He nudged Fabrizio to get off his bed as he settled on his side and faced the wall away from the three men. Chester sat in silence with Rory as Fabrizio looked around nervously, regretting that they told the young man anything at all.
Thoughts were running wildly through Chester’s head. What were they trying to say? This had to be a joke. Some sort of initiation. It had to be. Had the boat set sail yet? Did he have time to get off? How far of a swim would it be now? In between his thoughts Chester jumped up and made a beeline for the door in which he came. He ripped the ragged curtain open and ran down the small hallway, splashing as he went. He heard Rory and Fabrizio call after him. Ignoring them and letting fear take over, Chester found the small door and began pulling and pushing furiously on it. He kicked the door trying to get it to open as the vibrations of his shoe against the steel door sent echo’s down the small corridor. Crying, Chester continued to try and break the lock, jiggling and kicking it in a desperate attempt to get the door to open. No way was this real. It was insane. This had to be some sort of joke or a dream. Exhausted by his attempt, Chester fell to the floor, making a small splash in the water. He continued to cry out of frustration. Knowing this couldn’t possibly be true. Was he just kidnapped?
Were there more men on this boat who were promised a ferry across the ocean? How could he be so stupid? He knew it sounded odd from the beginning. Why didn’t he trust his gut? Was there nothing he could do? Would he be stuck on this boat at long as the other men? What was going to happen to him?
Chester felt his body rock against the steel door as the waves of the ocean swayed the boat back and forth…..