Bandom One-shots book 3

An Unnerving Call (Izzaxl)

~Axl Rose POV, 1994~

The kitchen smelled like garlic and fried onions, the kind of smell that hung in the air and clung to the walls. Izzy stood at the stove, his back to me, shirtless and comfortable, moving between pans with the effortless rhythm he had for everything. His hair was tied back, a few strands stuck to his neck with sweat. He hummed faintly, something familiar but off-tune—probably a melody he was working on.

I sat at the table, Ember perched in her high chair, her wide green eyes—Izzy's eyes—staring up at me. She made a soft gurgling noise, waving her tiny fists in the air. I scooped up a spoonful of mashed peas from the bowl and held it out to her.

"Open up, Ember," I coaxed, doing that dumb little airplane motion that Izzy always said was unnecessary. "Here comes the plane."

She opened her mouth just enough to fool me, then turned her head at the last second. The peas smeared across her cheek, and she let out a delighted squeal. I sighed, grabbing the napkin and wiping her face gently.

"You're as stubborn as your dad," I muttered, glancing toward the stove.

Izzy didn't look back, but I caught the smirk in his voice when he replied. "Takes after you, doesn't she?"

I smiled despite myself, shaking my head. Ember giggled, clapping her hands together as if she'd won some secret battle. I was about to try another spoonful when the phone rang, loud and jarring in the quiet.

The sound cut through the moment, sharp enough to make Ember flinch. Her laughter stopped abruptly, replaced by a soft whimper. I placed the spoon down, gently running my hand over her soft, auburn hair.

"I'll get it," I said, rising from the chair.

Izzy didn't move, still focused on stirring whatever he was making. "Tell whoever it is we're busy," he said absently.

I grabbed the receiver off the wall, cradling it between my shoulder and ear while picking Ember up with my free hand. She nestled against me, her little fingers clutching at my shirt.

"Hello?" I said, distracted, bouncing her lightly on my hip.

The voice on the other end froze me in place.

"Still pretending you're a family man, huh?" My father. The words crawled through the line like poison, cold and sharp. "Never figured you'd have the guts to settle down. Then again, I never figured you for a lot of things."

My throat tightened, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. Ember stirred against me, her tiny hand brushing my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why are you calling?"

He laughed, a low, bitter sound that made my stomach churn. "Why do you think? Thought I'd check in, see how my disappointment of a son is doing. Heard through the grapevine you're playing house now. With a man, no less." He spat the word like it burned his tongue. "That what you're calling family these days? A queer little pretend life?"

My grip on the receiver tightened. My heart pounded in my chest, the familiar cocktail of anger and shame bubbling up. I wanted to hang up, to throw the phone across the room, but the sound of his voice rooted me to the spot.

"You don't get to talk about my family," I said, my voice low and shaking. "You don't know anything about my life."

"Your life?" he snapped, voice rising. "What life? You threw that away the second you started shacking up with another man. You think this—this circus you're living is real? You think that kid you're parading around is going to grow up normal with two freaks for parents?"

I clenched my jaw, the words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. Ember stirred again, letting out a small, confused noise. I pressed my lips to the top of her head, trying to steady my breathing. Izzy turned from the stove, his eyes narrowing as he took in my expression.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, stepping closer.

I shook my head, turning away slightly. I didn't want him to hear this—not now, not ever.

"You don't know anything about me," I said into the receiver, my voice trembling with barely-contained rage. "You never did. And you sure as hell don't get to judge the life I've built just because you hate your own."

There was a long pause on the other end, heavy with unspoken venom. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer but no less cruel. "You're a lost cause, son. Always have been. Guess I shouldn't be surprised you'd drag a child into your mess. She'll see it one day, you know. What a failure you are."

My hand shook so badly I almost dropped the phone. Ember whimpered, sensing my distress, and Izzy was beside me in an instant, pulling the receiver from my hand.

"Hey," he said sharply into the phone. "Don't call here again."

He hung up before my father could respond, slamming the receiver back onto the cradle. For a moment, the kitchen was silent except for the soft hiss of something frying on the stove. Izzy turned to me, his dark eyes searching my face.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice quiet now, steady.

I nodded, though I didn't trust myself to speak. Ember's small hand tugged at my shirt, her wide eyes staring up at me with innocent curiosity. I kissed her forehead, holding her close as my chest heaved with suppressed emotion.

Izzy reached out, his hand warm on my shoulder. "You don't have to deal with him anymore," he said firmly. "Not alone. Not ever."

I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The weight of them, the truth of them, settled over me like a blanket. Ember cooed softly, her tiny fingers brushing against my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not sure who the apology was for—Izzy, Ember, or myself.

Izzy shook his head, pulling me into a gentle embrace, careful not to crush Ember between us. "You don't have to be," he said. "We're here. We're yours. Nothing he says changes that."

The smell of garlic and onions lingered in the air, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe him.

~An Unnerving Call~