1980's Rock Imagines

Nikki Sixx - Die for You Pt.1

Word Count: 1,602

It was now past five in the morning, finding yourself slumped over the arm of the couch with a phone book dangling from one of your arms. The other hand gripped the cord to the landline, ready to tear the phone off of the wall on the off chance that someone was finally returning one of your calls. You had spent all night calling around trying to locate where Nikki was, but it proved to be utterly hopeless after hours of trying to reach him.

None of his band mates answered their house phones, no bar or club you had called would pick up, or had no idea where the bassist was if they had.

The sad thing was, you were used to this. You were used to him disappearing four or five nights a week and not having a clue of where he was. But, he always came home around a couple of hours after midnight, usually drunk off of his ass. Tonight was different though. He never came home at all.

Your face felt tight after the salty tears streaming down your cheeks had eventually run dry, a feeling that was all too familiar to you now. Whether he came home at 2 or 5 in the morning made no difference to you. You couldn't help but cry and be worried for him every time he had kept you waiting for him to come home late at night, knowing all of the different kinds of trouble he could be getting himself into.

One of the worst parts of it was that it barely felt like you lived with him at all. Your boyfriend would either sleep off his hangovers during the day or go to practice with his band. Most nights he had gigs and then partied, or went straight to partying if he didn't have a show. Consequently, you were pretty much alone constantly. Sure, some nights he stayed in or you would actually choose to go out with him, but it definitely seemed like the better part of your relationship was in the earlier days when you were both so in love with each other that no amount of booze or partying was worth time apart. You wondered what changed, and why.

The phone book dropped from your hand with a thud and your hold on the phone cord relaxed as you drifted off, unable to keep your eyes open. The panic hadn't worn off, but you just couldn't stay awake anymore waiting for Nikki to show up.

It wasn't until what you guessed were several hours later that you heard the front door open and close from down the hallway. Instantly, you were alert and aware, the few hours of sleep giving you enough energy to get worked up again. You sat up on the couch as you waited for Nikki to make his entrance. To your surprise, he looked to be in not too bad of shape. Of course, it was morning now and he had probably sobered up a little by now. He pushed his hair out of his face before looking up and making eye contact with you, anger bubbling within you the second he did. It wasn't often he came home and you could actually speak to him. Typically, he was too far gone when he got home to understand a single word of anything you said. Your emotions usually cooled down by the time he was normal again, and you never had enough fight left in you to say something by then.

But this time, you had him right where you wanted him. All of the pain and the anxiety that he had put you through during the last few months rattled in your brain, causing your fury to escalate.

"Where have you been?" He came a few steps closer, seemingly puzzled at your sudden outburst. If only he had known how long and how often you really wanted to say this to him.

"I was at The Whiskey, and then I crashed at Tommy's. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal?" You questioned in disbelief. You were about to continue before something caught your eye. From where you were sitting on the couch, you were at eye level with Nikki's exposed arms, noticing the bruises at his inner elbow. You stood up and walked towards him, taking his arm into your grasp before he could even realize what you had spotted. The purple - green colored splotch faintly surrounded a tiny hole, the sight of it close up immediately bringing tears to your eyes. It was exactly as you had suspected.

Nikki pulled his arm away, guiltily looking into your eyes and then to the floor. The two of you had had discussions about his drug use before, to which he had promised he would quit. But the fact that he was still 'shooting up' brought the initial lecture you had planned to a totally new level. Surprisingly enough, you managed to keep your tone calm at first. When you first broke the silence, Nikki seemed to be frozen in his place.

"I stayed up all night waiting for you," you began quietly. "I called everywhere trying to find you. I called Tommy's house and no one answered. Were the two of you really so hammered that you couldn't pick up the phone and tell me that you were safe?"

Nikki stayed quiet, staring at you with a look you weren't sure you recognized. He looked scared, maybe even shameful, but you didn't want to give him that much credit.

"But you weren't actually safe, were you?"

"What?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I bet you were wasted last night. And wherever you were, doing cocaine, heroine... all it would take is a few minutes and you would be gone forever. One overdose," you emphasized, "is all it takes for me to never see you again. Ever.

"Y/N, it's really not that serious," he said, trying to regain control of the situation and play it off like everything was fine. The fact of the matter was, he didn't like it when you called him out.

"Don't you fucking get it?" You raised your voice, beginning to abandon your composed persona. "Don't you have any idea what kind of thoughts have been running though my head for the last twelve hours? I was thinking the worst, Nikki. It shouldn't have to cross my mind that you might not come home ever again. I don't care how much control you thought you were in. You could have died."

"Jesus, Y/N. It's not that big of a deal," he tried to brush it off and walk away, but you caught him by his shirt and yanked him back. By now, you were covered in tears again, struggling to settle your emotions so you could speak properly. You figured that the only way he would listen to you now was if you yelled, since being calm and reasonable wasn't working.

"Booze, social drinking, I get. Smoking to relieve stress, I get it! But hardcore drugs make no fucking sense to me! Why do you always need to be drunk or high on something that could kill you? What is it about your life that you are trying to escape from? You have everything a man could ever want! Money, fame, and practically any woman you want!"

Nikki looked stunned. He had never seen you this upset before. Between your shouting and your tears, he knew that you weren't just angry, he could see that you really were hurt.

"And the really sad thing is," you choked on your tears, "you already have a woman, one that I thought you wanted. Am I not enough for you anymore? Is your reality really so bad with me in it that you would rather be drugged up and intoxicated than to just feel normal?" You had to pause to allow a few sobs to escape you before continuing. You tightly closed your eyes and ground your teeth from the internal pain you were feeling. "God... dammit!" you yelled. "I would die for you. And you can't even keep one simple, easy promise to stay alive for me."

If he wasn't sober when he walked in, he sure as hell was now. Nikki felt a massive weight in his chest, never having realized how much his actions were effecting you. He couldn't believe that he had gotten so lost in his life of partying and decadence that he had forgotten about the one single most important thing to him, and that was you.

"Well, I can't do it anymore."

"What are you saying?" he felt as though his heart had stopped at the terrifying implication of your words.

"I can't," you told him with an even, calm tone again as you looked at him straight in the eye. Your words really sunk in when you left him standing there, your footsteps climbing the stairs to your shared bedroom. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he panicked, running up after you.

His worst fear was confirmed when he had seen that you had already pulled out a duffle bag and settled it on the bed. As you were heading toward the dresser, he caught your hand.

"Y/N, please no. Don't do this," there was an edge to his voice that you weren't sure you had ever heard before. It sounded like he was choking up, but you didn't believe it until you had actually turned to face him. "Please," he repeated.