Satellite-Sequel to God Save My King (Steve Jones FanFic)

Steve-The Lucky Ones

I have to admit, I was a bit sulky when Kimmy finally decided that we needed to put on our clothes and return to Cook and Billy the next morning. After all, I had been waiting so long to get Kimmy naked and alone, and now that it was finally happening, I was convinced that I never wanted to go back to my normal routine ever again. But Kimmy missed Paul, and who was I to keep my two favorite people in the world from seeing one another?

When we came downstairs to find them, Billy was nursing his withdrawals with a bottle of scotch while sitting on my lounge. I sat beside him for moral support, while also peeking over to check on Cookie and Kimmy every so often.

The two of them were like two peas in a pod, laughing and chattering away like two giddy schoolgirls, just enjoying each other's company. It was obvious that they had a lot to catch up on, and I listened contentedly as Paul told Kimmy all about his missus and Kimmy told Paul all about her new job. She left out the part about seeing my penis every week, which made it that much funnier when I remembered that I had already told Cookie all about it. Leave it to Kimmy to act like all of that had never happened just to save some face.

It was only when they began speaking in hushed whispers that I figured they were either talking about me or Sid or both. Not that I really cared. I had turned over a new leaf and, according to Kimmy, she had too. I tried not to worry that she may have lied earlier and was, in fact, still missing Sidney. Instead, I assumed that Paul was probably just begging Kimmy to continue to watch over me and make sure that I stayed out of trouble, which was something I couldn't be mad at him for. After all I'd put them both through, it was fair of them to assume that I might go back to my old ways. Especially after seeing what the relapse had done to Billy.

"I ought to get me someone like her."

Billy's voice pulled me from my eavesdropping, and I turned to see him gazing intently after Kimmy. The now-empty bottle of liquor was clutched to his chest and he appeared to be slowly rocking back and forth as he stared off into space. I wondered if I had always looked that awful every time I had been coming down in the past. No wonder everyone was always worrying about me.

I smiled softly, unsure if he would ever be as lucky as I had been. Unsure if he'd have as many chances as I'd been given. Even I had nearly lost Kimmy multiple times and, on top of that, nearly lost my life too. Who's to say it would be any easier for my poor friend?

"It's hard," I informed him with a frown. "It's worse than anything."

He snorted in disbelief. "Even worse than H?"

I thought about it. Really thought about it. All of the sleepless nights, tossing and turning, wondering if she would call, wondering if she would ever be coming back, if I would ever see her again. Countless one night stands, always hoping it would be enough, yet somehow never managing to fill the hole that she had left behind. The ebbing jealousy that waned in the back of my mind, knowing that somehow Sid would always have one over on me. Even now, worrying if I could ever really fill his shoes like Kimmy claimed I could. Worrying if she could ever truly replace myself with him in her heart of hearts.

If I were being honest, it was worse than smack. At least smack gave you a soothing high whenever you finally got to shoot it up. At least your body could eventually flush heroin out one way or another. You could force it out so long as you could suffer through the symptoms.

But Kimmy was something I had never mastered. I had never been able to detox her from my mind, and I wasn't sure if I ever could. There was no 'getting over' her or 'suffering through' losing her. There was only ceaseless suffering and hopelessness. An emptiness that never seemed to go away, as if a whole chunk of you was missing. It was something you could never shake. At least heroin could possibly end in death, forever ending the suffering right along with it. But there was no such thing as dying of a broken heart. All you could do was try to cope with the loss, struggle to forget, and hope that one day you could finally kill your emotions completely.

"Honestly?" I crinkled my eye brows at the thought. "Yes."

"Bollocks," Billy out right laughed at me this time.

I smiled softly and shrugged. "For me, anyway. And for Sid. And Johnny, from what I hear. But maybe it'll be easier for you. You might be one of the lucky ones."

Billy finally paused long enough to look at me, studying my solemn features and actually taking in what I was saying.

"Oh my God, you're not even joking," he finally muttered.

"Yeah, but you know us, we always go for the theatrics. Always taking shite too far. Nothing like Cookie," I nodded towards the blonde drummer who was still deeply engaged in conversation with Kimmy. "He got it easy."

"So, what you're basically saying is...I'm fucked," he finally concluded with a sneer.

"Basically," I nodded in agreement. "I mean, who knows? You might turn out like little Cook over there, though I can't promise you it'll be that simple. But, somehow, it's worth it. That much I can promise you."

And when I turned back just in time to catch Kimmy smiling in my direction, I knew that what I had said was true. Because never had I ever felt so content with my life, and never had I ever been so thankful to have endured such suffering at the hands of such a beautiful creature.

"You know, the best things in life ain't always easy," Billy murmured softly, causing me to tear my eyes away from Kimmy long enough to focus on his words. "Besides, the way you two were looking at each other just now..."

He paused as he emptied the final, tiny drops of his bottle into his mouth.

"I'd say that you're one of the lucky ones, Jones. You, Sidney, and even Johnny with that ol'nag of his..." he hiccuped as he spoke. "A band of lucky cunts."

"Oh, yeah, we're real lucky," I rolled my eyes sarcastically. "Pissed away our royalties, lost our bassist, and couldn't even make it through America. I'd say our luck is absolute shite."

He shrugged. "Shite luck is better than no luck at all. And, the way I see it, everything's worked out in your favor."

"But not in Sid's," I reminded him, my voice low so that Kimmy and Paul couldn't hear me if they decided to eavesdrop at all.

"Then I guess you'd better not have let him die in vain."

Despite Billy being pissed right now, his words surprisingly rang true. Sid went out exactly the way he would've wanted to: young, smacked out, and with Kimmy at his side. But his life was not my own. I had to live for me, and I had to really step back and learn from Sidney's untimely demise. He'd lost not only his life, but everything that had come with it. Our band, our friendships, our music, and Kimmy.

I wouldn't end up like him simply because I wouldn't allow myself to. I had so much more left to do here, and so much lost time to make up for. I had never been the punk icon that Sid was, and I wasn't meant to go out this young. I had music to make, friendships to explore, and a woman to love.

I nodded to Billy, my jaw set as I gazed into his eyes. "You're right. But that means you too."

I took the bottle from his hands, placing it gently onto the nearby table and turning back to Billy.

"If I'm going to live, then so are you," I ordered him, watching as his eyes widened in disbelief. "We're going to live. We're going to keep punk alive with us. And, when you're all fixed up and clean, you are going to be lucky too."

Billy stared after me a moment, looking a tad bewildered. I began to wonder if his drunken mind could even keep up with all that I had said, but those worries were soon washed away by the misty look in his eyes.

"We're going to survive, Billy." I reassured him with a clap on the back. "And we're going to do great things."