Crash - Guns N Roses Fanfiction

TWENTY FIVE

I hadn't sprinted a distance like that for a long time, probably since high school when I did track and field. I must have covered a mile or two, while getting to the police station, to the infamous Axl Rose.

I finally came to a slow stop at the entrance.

What exactly was I going to say, or do?

I had an outline of a plan, but whether or not I could follow through with it was a major question, that could cause major setbacks. Everything would depend on how Axl was acting right now, and how the officers dealt with it.

I needed to speak to him, but first I had to get him out. If I couldn't bail him out, I would ask to speak with him, just for a couple of minutes. If I could do that, but only for a certain amount of time, I'd have to tell him not to speak at all until I explained myself and how I was feeling.

Perfect. There's the plan.

I pushed the doors open after wiping the beads of sweat off of my forehead, taking a deep breath in, followed by a short exhale.

The moment I stepped into that room, I knew Axl had been here. Several small, but sure signs of him were scattered throughout the space.

In the waiting room I stood--frozen--in, there was someone organizing disheveled magazines and pamphlets, putting the coffee table they normally rested upon and the seats around it back into their original places. I remembered Axl's shoes were dirty, and there were scuff marks leading into a hallway I knew I couldn't go into without authorization.

Oh, God, Axl... what have you done?

I knew with a freaky, raw surety that this was definitely not the first time he'd had a run-in with the law.

I walked quietly, cautiously to the front desk. The secretary paused from writing something down to lift a finger, indicating me to wait, and then asked in an uninterested voice, "Can I help you?"

"Yes. Um, do you know if you have an Axl Rose here, right now?"

She dragged a finger down a list of names I couldn't quite decipher (granted, they were upside down from my point of view and the handwriting was messy). "No."

"What?" I said, caught off guard. But... I swear, he had to be here. He couldn't have gone anywhere else. I was sure of it.

Maybe he could have convinced them that it wasn't his fault, and maybe they would let him out, but not until countless questions were asked. It would take more than just thirty or so minutes--an hour or two at least was deemed appropriate, to me. So, what was the answer, then? Where the hell was that man?

The middle-aged lady at the desk just shrugged. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked plainly, clearly not expecting me to say yes.

"But, he has to be here, he must have come in just a half an hour ago, I swear..." then I realized, he's probably under the name, "William Axl Rose!"

"Pardon me?" the woman questioned.

"Oh my God, I totally forgot. His name is William Axl Rose. Please. Look him up. Please. It's William."

She raised a concerning brow, but said nothing as she searched her sheet of names. "Here we are," she said, not so much to me but towards herself. "Just came in; you're gonna have to wait until he's done being questioned. Gave the officers a bit of a hard time."

A bit? No doubt.

"Thank you so much," I said, letting out a breath I had been holding.