Terrorcest one shots

this is just a courtesy call

A/N: song fic based on the song Courtesy Call by Sixx A.M. this one got me through a lot of long nights so expect some dark shit.

Also, WestHamBabe I SWEAR, that your request will be out soon.

Nikki Sixx

You start to have a different outlook on life when all you've done for the past two weeks is shoot toxic false happiness into your veins.

Things start to change, your mind shapes them in a different way. The colors seem to drain from the world until all you see are varying shades of grey or black. Oh and some brown and red, because you bleed, and you shit yourself but you're too far gone to care.

The cries for help seem like laughter to everyone else. They think you're some big rock legend who has everything he wants. All the drugs, equipment, girls, and money you could want. But then there's what happens beneath. There's what happens when you strip yourself of your disguise as your brain starts to tear you apart, limb by limb.

Then there's the next day, waking up in your own piss and your own shit and absolutely reeking. Sometimes there's a girl (or girls) next to you, or laying somewhere in your house. Most of the time you don't remember what you did the day before. And then you repeat the cycle of shooting up and blacking out.

And there you go, thats my life.

The endless cycle of drugs isn't fun anymore. Every day I do this stupid dance with death and wake up feeling like I just died, promising I'll never do drugs again, only to go back on that five minutes later. I know it's going to put me six feet under, but at this point I need the drugs. I can't stop even if I wanted to.

Some small part of me wants to quit. But most of me doesn't. I'm better off this way sometimes. I'm safer when I'm high, and the tentacles of my torturous, poisonous mind can't affect me. Even though I hate it, I need it now, and I can't let anyone else in. I can't let anyone take it from me, because I have no idea how I can live without it.

I haven't worn clothes in a week because I don't have any that aren't stained to high heaven with shit, piss, vomit, blood, and ink. It's awful, but at this point I don't even care for my health anymore. I just want to get high, that's all I need.

I head downstairs, fully intending to go about my usual routine of wallowing in self pity, and being the selfish, worthless addict that I am. But Doc and Tommy didn't let me. Not today.

Tommy Lee

Nikki hasn't showed up for rehearsals in 3 weeks, and I think Doc is about to blow his goddamn lid. He's been puttering around and being more of a dick than usual. Nikki hasn't shown up yet today either, and it's worrying me.

Last time we saw each other he was in a real bad state of mind. I mean I'm used to his usual amount of sadisticness, but this was a whole new level. He seemed...depressed, which is pretty terrifying. I mean, I've never had depression so I don't really know. But I don't want anything to happen to him. I've never told anyone, but I love Nikki, like LOVE LOVE.

Its ridiculous I know, but everything about him is so...so alluring to me.

I look up as Doc bursts into the studio, pissy as usual. "That bastard still not here?" He growls, slamming a manilla folder filled with papers onto the table.

Me, Vince and Mick all know exactly which 'bastard' he's talking about. My love in question. "He's probably home. I'll go get him." I offer, standing up quickly. Doc nods.

"I'll go with you. I'm gonna tear that motherfucker a new one." Doc states firmly, standing to his full height, which isn't much.

I start to say no, but decide it would be easier to just let him go on his power trip. We quickly pile into my car and head off to Nikkis house. I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty damn scared. What if something bad happened to Sixx? I mean, we're all pretty wild and deep into drugs...Nikki is on a different plane of existence though. I think he may have a heroin addiction.

I pull up to his house, and we both-carefully- head inside, gingerly stepping over the broken glass and used needles scattered across the lawn. Dirty clothes hang from the trees like vines. I'm just surprised someone hasn't taken them yet.

"Worthless messy motherfucker." Doc grumbles, kicking at pieces of trash on the floor.

"Fuck off." I growl, protectiveness surging through me.

"WHO THE FUCK IS IT?!" I hear a shrill, scared sounding voice yell from somewhere in the trashed mansion.

I automatically recognize it as Nikki, but something sounds off. He sounds scared, and a little lonely. I creep towards the living room from the entrance, Docs heavy breathing penetrating the terrifying silence. "Nikki it's us. It's Doc and Tommy and I'm going to kick your ass so hard I leave a permanent imprint if you don't get out here and stop fucking around right this second!" Doc growls.

"NO! GO AWAY! YOU'RE NOT REAL!" Nikki yells, stomping out toward us, ass naked.

Time to confront everything I've been feeling, once and for all.