"I need to tell them - Axl and Duff," Saul said in a serious tone. "They'll have to know that you're here."
Marcy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She had been aware that'd be the case when she had made the decision to accompany the band on tour but she just didn't feel ready to have them know. Not yet. Marcy knew she wasn't going to have much of a choice in the matter though. "Do I have to see him?"
"Do you think you can?" Saul asked. It wasn't fair on Marcy, but he knew Axl would want proof. "I mean, you don't have to but it's going to happen sooner or later and I'd rather it's when I'm around."
"I'll be okay," Marcy lied. She really had thought she'd never have to see Axl ever again. "How do you think he'll react?" What she was really asking was whether Axl was anything like he used to be.
"He's better," Saul seemed to have read her mind. "I don't think he's hit anything for a couple of months. Axl learned to control himself since you left, he likes to think he's very mature. You'll be fine, I promise."
.
Gilby and Lilith had been sent to collect everybody. This included Axl, Duff, Matt, the manager, and a couple of other people Marcy didn't know the name of.
Her whole body was jittery with nerves while she waited. Saul noticed and slid his hand into hers, linking their fingers in a reassuring gesture. Marcy exhaled shakily and gazed over at him. She wanted to run her fingers through her hair but couldn't bring herself to do it.
His expression was one of calm composure. A faint smile played over his features and his eyes were brighter than they had been the day before. Marcy liked to hope it was because she was there to stay. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It's gonna be alright," Saul promised. "I'm here." Marcy couldn't say anything in response, her throat was too dry.
Duff was the first to arrive, followed shortly by someone she didn't know. His mouth sort of dropped open when he saw Marcy. It took him a long time to move from his spot in the doorway and when he did it was to stride across the room in five big steps and engulf Marcy in a hug. She'd forgotten just how tall he really was.
He didn't look like Duff anymore. Not really. His face was all bloated and his eyes looked glazed over - but not in the same way they did when he was high. Duff's hair was greasy and limp and looked thinner than it used to, like it had been falling out. He looked pale and smelled strongly of vodka and meth (which could be rather pungent sometimes).
His smile was still crooked and his arms still wrapped around her in that same familiar way. "I knew you'd come back." Duff murmured, his head buried in her mess of hair. His voice sounded as it always had, with that cute little lilt. Unlike Saul, he had never given up hope. Duff had known Marcy wouldn't really leave them forever.
He let Marcy go and took a moment to examine her. She looked different, yet somehow the same. Marcy was still incredibly attractive. Like, the bend her over a table and fuck her brains out type of attractive. He wasn't gonna do that though. Obviously. Dammit, Duff seriously frustrated himself sometimes.
"You've changed." Marcy observed after a moments quiet. Saul had left her side to talk to Matt, who had just come in.
"So have you." Duff grinned lopsidedly. He was swaying a little and put a hand on the back of the couch to steady himself. He'd drunk a bottle and a half of vodka that afternoon. Maybe just a little too much.
"I know." Marcy found her gaze kept wandering to his arms. She couldn't see any scars, left from when he'd hurt himself during a panic attack. Did he still do that? Or had he found a new method of self medication?
