Terror Twin [Def Leppard] #Wattys2016

XXX: Ride Into The Sun

January 8, 1991.

•

The six month break didn't go as planned.

It had been going well. Too well. So well that Phil almost believed Steve would really make it.

That all changed when Phil went out one night and came back to find his lover unconscious on the sofa, drunk and with a broken rib.

He'd rushed Steve to the hospital, but hadn't heard any word after the doctors took him. It had been four hours Phil had been waiting for news.

Phil had called the others; they weren't able to tell what he was saying over the sobbing, but they got the idea.

This might be the end.

At some point, Phil blacked out in a chair.

•

Rick leaned his head against the hallway wall outside the hospital room. He had been the last to arrive, as Joe and Sav were inside with Phil.

The drummer didn't know what to think anymore. No one did. A doctor walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, asking if he was okay. Rick apparently had nodded, and the doctor had gone inside.

Rick didn't recall this happening.

He headed in after a few minutes of breathing, trying to clear his head to no avail.

The room was silent, minus sniffles from Sav.

Rick realized this was the same situation they had all been in when he lost his arm back in 1984. This numbness he was feeling; they had all felt it too, felt it for him. He felt almost angry at Steve for putting them through it a second time, but that was unfair. Life was unfair.

Rick ran his hand through his messy hair, sighing softly.

People had started to say Def Leppard was cursed. Somehow, news about Steve's past has gotten out, no matter how hard they tried to keep it under wraps. Drummer lost an arm? Guitarist about to lose his life? Cursed. It would only happen to bands that got that big that fast, they said. Rick didn't believe any of it. They got where they were through hard work, not selling their souls for popularity or some shit.

At some point he drifted off, but was rudely awoken by Joe flicking him in the ear.

"What?"

"Shh. They just brought him in."

Rick sat up, fully awake now. It was no new sight to him, though; actually, it was basically identical to where they had been about a year ago. He bit his lip, frowning over at Phil, who had assumed his place at the side of the bed.

"We have to let him be a part of the band again." Rick exclaimed, louder than he had meant to be. Sav cocked his head to the side, while Joe shot him a glare that practically screamed, 'Shut up!'.

"No, really. We have to. The band may be the only thing keeping him grounded." Rick continued, in a husky whisper.

"I agree." Sav murmured. Phil didn't look over, and Rick realized it was because he had fallen asleep in the chair. Poor mate must've been up all night.

A hush fell over the room, and the only sound was the eerie beeping of the heart monitor.

"Hey, Steve." Sav whispered, voice fragile. "We still love you."

Steve didn't reply in his slumber.

"We're still here for you." Joe added solemnly.

"You're going to win this battle, White Lightning."

Sav raised an eyebrow at Rick's nickname.

"When he runs across the stage in those white outfits. He looks just like white lightning. Phil made that up."

Joe nodded.

"We could use that for a song."

"Phil already started writing it." Rick shrugged. "He showed me it before. It seemed really good.. he just feels it doesn't fit the 'Def Leppard image'."

Joe snorted.

"Nonsense. I'd love to see it."

"Someday."

"Do you remember any of it?" Sav bit his lip.

"I think we should stop talking." Rick murmured, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest.

The steady beeping fell into step with Joe's heartbeat; Sav noticed, as he laid his head against his fiancé' chest. Soon, it faded into the background as he slipped into a doze.

Phil had been awake through the entire thing, but didn't have the heart to contribute to the hushed conversation. He didn't have the heart to do much at all, anymore.

•

Steve would be staying in the hospital for another week to make sure he was in stable condition, and away from any alcohol.

Phil was reluctantly torn away almost every day to go to the studio and record.

"We have to keep going", they'd say. "It's what he'd want us to do."

"You're talking like he's dead!", Phil would shout, over and over, but would play anyway, and recorded both his and Steve's parts.

A week turned into two, then a month, and Steve remained in his hospital bed, being held for "health concerns". It wasn't until March that Phil was allowed to take him home.

Phil helped Steve out of the car, although he didn't need it.

Phil would always view him as a fragile, glass man; easily broken, in need of protection. Made to be put on a high shelf, away from the toxicity of the world, made to be admired, looked up to.

But Steve wasn't glass, and he wasn't a child who needed protection. But he let Phil snake his arm around his waist, allowed his boyfriend to walk him inside slowly.

"You're never drinking- no, you're never so much looking at a bottle of liquor again." That was what Phil had told him. And that was Steve's plan.

Because he realized, finally, that he wasn't just hurting his health by continuously relapsing. He was hurting everyone around him.

Steve felt determination not to slip off again, for the first time. Sick that it took the mental health of his friends to do it, but he'd heal. They'd all heal, and become stronger. They always did.

Def Leppard always pulled through, no matter the hardship. It was part of their nature, their DNA. They had matured.

Joe wasn't worried about them going down in history anymore. He knew it was assured. Cheeky bastard. His writer's block had been conquered, and their fifth album, Adrenalize, was released on March 31, 1992. A smashing success.

Sav become more confident in his abilities, and no longer felt like just the "pretty boy" of the band. Even when he contracted Bell's Palsy in 1994, his new husband Joe still made him feel like he was beautiful.

Rick had conquered his phantom limb, and his drumming was better than it had ever been. He had earned the constant camera on him during live shows, and was no longer insecure about how he looked. His handicap only made him stronger.

Phil pushed the more healthy vegan-lifestyle on himself, stricter than he used to be with it, and in return, Steve followed his lead. The guitarist found himself working out more, getting himself to a point with his body where he was truly happy.

Steve saved himself, but only with the help of his friends.

Because through anything, true friendship with persevere.

They always pulled through.
It was in their DNA.