Trigger Warning- aftermath of drug overdose (you all knew it was coming) I have also added another diary entry from Nikki Sixx's The Heroin Diaries. So, if you don't want to read it, just skip the part in italics that starts with 'December 25th 1987'
-
Nikki was still asleep by the time you composed yourself and returned to his bedroom. He hadn't moved an inch and if it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest, you would have thought he was dead.
You took a seat on the chair across the room after grabbing an acoustic guitar from the wall and began to strum away at the cords quietly trying to distract yourself.
Somewhere, far away, the phone rang but you didn't answer it.
"Hey, it's Nikki. I'm not home because I'm dead."
Tears blurred your vision all over again after hearing that while you continued to play the guitar. A few stray tears trickled down your face and fell onto the wooden instrument, but you ignored them and kept playing.
Nikki didn't wake up until late that night. You hadn't slept, too scared that if you closed your eyes then Nikki would be gone by the time you opened them again.
So, you kept yourself busy with the guitar trying to remember all the chords and passed time by teaching yourself how to play different Mötley songs with it.
"Merry Christmas Eve." Nikki's voice murmured weakly.
Your fingers froze against the strings as you looked up to find him watching you from the bed with a small smile spreading across his face.
"That's all you have to say to me?" You asked, raising your eyebrow at him.
The smile vanished from his face as quickly as it had appeared. Maybe that was a little harsh, but you had spent hours sitting here alone with your thoughts and wanted to kill him for what he did to himself.
"You told me that you had this under control." You began to say, leaning the guitar against the side of the chair before getting up and pacing the bedroom.
Nikki tracked your movements with his eyes but remained silent while you paced trying to calm your anger and emotion knowing it wasn't going to do anybody any good if you lost it.
"The whole fucking world thought you were dead. I thought you were dead!" Your voice cracked and caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes once again. "Is that all you have to say to me?"
You turned to look at the bassist to find his own eyes now swimming with unshed tears.
"I... I need help."
Those three words were all you needed to hear.
Nikki broke down and admitted for the first time in his entire life that he couldn't control his addiction. He needed help, and he couldn't do it alone.
You called the rest of the band and organised for them to come to Nikki's house the day after Christmas for a meeting. None of them asked any specific questions but knew it had to do with the overdose.
You spent Christmas Eve in Nikki's spare bedroom too afraid to go back home and leave the bassist alone in his house in fear of him shooting up again. Just because you confiscated all his drugs didn't mean the rockstar couldn't easily call his dealer and organise for more to be delivered.
So, you spent the night at Nikki's after calling Vince and explaining the situation. You felt bad for not being there Christmas morning to see Skylar open her presents but promised to make it up to her later.
YOU ARE READING
The Dirt (Your Version)
FanficMeeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control. Or A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.