An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Epilogue Slash
One shot turned into two and then six and then I lost count. But the floor was soon moving and the walls were breathing harder than I was and I was dancing with strangers I'd forgotten the name of.
"Saul." Steven muttered, breathlessly. I glanced over at him and my face dropped; Stevie wasn't smiling. He wasn't bouncing about. He was paler than before and his eyes held more pain than I'd ever seen.
"You alright, man?" I asked, cautiously with an awkward shrug. "You look like shit."
"You - uh - you need to come with me and Duff." He muttered, spinning on his heel and exiting the hotel. I frowned, hurriedly making my way over after the two blondes. Neither said a word as we wandered down the street - myself tumbling into a few trashcan's and passers by, to which I'd apologised and blushed embarrassingly.
London sure was pretty at night. I looked up and took in my surroundings, using the top hat to balance myself out as I stumbled along. Not many lights were on, but the foxes underneath the streetlights were shabby and kinda cute. Homeless people scattered around, cuddled in their cardboard boxes and I almost called put for them to join the party, but Duff had wrapped his arm along my shoulder before I got the chance. He didn't smell all too much like alcohol anymore and he was frowning down at me gravely. Steven held the most serious expression I'd ever witnessed and it scared me a little.
We'd been walking for at least four streets by now, and my stomach was filled with anxious butterflies; this couldn't be good, surely. A few pimps offered themselves to us all but the two blondes declined - to which I found incredibly suspicious- and continued to stroll way faster than my intoxication was allowing me to keep up with.
With Duffs long add legs and Stevens quick pace, I was slowly losing my breath. What can I say, I was a smoker. But after a few moments, we came to an abrupt halt. Steven spun around, hands in his pockets, and shook his head. His eyes were hurt and the frown was real fucking pained. I drew my brows together in confusion, what the fuck was going on?
"We called the cops." He muttered, sadly. I frowned harder. What? "And the ambulance is on its way." He said, scratching the back of his head. There were tears in his eyes but he glanced up to rid them away. "Fuck, man, we don't know if she's alive or dead." My heart stopped in my chest and I lurched forward, almost collapsing if it weren't for Duffs steady hold.
"Who?" I didn't want to know. I didn't want to think of the possibilities. My gut was screaming at me to shut up, to just laugh it of and fuck back to the party but my brain knew that this 'girl' wasn't just a girl.
"Sloan." It was my girl.
I choked on my breath at Duffs response, leaning further into his side. "What happened to her?" I asked, feeling my eyes well up an impossible amount, spewing over the sides as they strolled on down my cheeks.
"We don't know, man." Steven sighed. "We found her."
"She was passed out, right over there." Duff pointed down the road and I followed his finger, but between the alcohol and my blurring tears, it was hard to see the exact point in which he was directing my line of vision to. "Blue in the fucking face, completely gone. We tried everything. Water, slapped her, everything. We tried shaking her. Her chest was still, Slash." He finished, tone more quiet than it needed to be but I understood why. He was trying to stay level headed and to not cry. Not like me. Not like this fucking pussy.
"Where is she?" My voice shook weakly and I wanted to fuck myself up for it. What a dick. I promised I'd meet her out there after I'd had a few shots and all, but I completely forgot and ended up talking to new people and getting to know them. Fuck. If I'd o' just come out and smoked with her or some shit, nothing like this would of happened.
"Behind the trash, we ain't want someone takin' her." Steven nodded toward the large trashcan, sitting with huge ass black bags spilling from the container. I cursed, stumbling as fast as my legs could carry me toward what I hoped to be just a sleeping Sloan.
She was peacefully slumped against the brick wall, but it didn't look like her. I bit the inside of my cheek, walking over with large strides and crouching down beside her. I shook her shoulders, feeling the waterworks bringing more salty tears than I'd released in a fucking while. It was no use. And they were right... her fucking chest wasn't moving. I slumped down, uncaring that it fucking hurt my shoulder, and lay my head in her lap, with my body racked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably as I clutched her clothes, mumbling things I couldn't even understand.
She wasn't gone. I refused to believe it.
She wasn't gone.
She wasn't gone.
I asked her if she fucking took those pills and she said no. She said no. I wasn't a fucking idiot and I couldn't mistake the look of ectacy, and with the way she was drowning those shots, I had no discouragement that it was an overdose.
Not intentional, of course, and I knew that. Because she was happy. She wasn't consistently down and she was okay. She was always happy and smiling and she was mine.
She was still mine.
And she wasn't fucking gone.
I refused to accept it.
Sloan Mc-fucking-Cain was not dead. She could not be dead.
Duff
I was crying, I couldn't help it. Sloan was my fucking sister. My blood, I could trust her and I sure as fuck fucking did. She was so precious and wonderful and she made Slash so fucking happy.
I'd never seen Steven cry like he did when we saw her. But he was a crippling mess. No more smiley Steve-o.
We were both smoking a cigarette in silence, cautiously watching Slash in case of anything happening, and it broke my fucking heart. He now held her cold, blue body in his trembling arms. A delicate hold to not break the skin, and nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck, hoping to feel the usual buzzing of elegant warmth like he usually did, I suppose.
But not this time.
A cold surface pressed against his forehead as his tears and breathy sobs were the only source of heat. His wails and agonized words were repeated over: "Please wake up, Sloan. Wake up, baby." He said, voice cracking here and there. And then he repeated with what I could only describe to be a broken heart; "I love you." In desire to hear it back. But the words were never repeated.
It really was a sight to see, this paled man holding the love of his fucking life within his shaking arms, afraid to lose what was already gone.
Steven couldn't take it any longer, turning away and gritting his teeth angrily, waving over the paramedics and officers with subtle tear marks underneath his eyes. I wrapped my arm along his shoulder and hugged him in a comforting way, reassuring this brother of mine that it was okay.
The paramedics pried the girl away from Slashes hold and he sat, staring at the ground with such a look of numbness and heartbreak, I couldn't help but take my position next to him, handing over the bottle of vodka for him to drown in.
