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"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Grace. Jesus Christ," Mick groaned the next day, shaking his head. "Lemme try and get this straight. You're currently coming down from and trying to stay off of a serious pill addiction and fucking two members of the band I'm in? Seriously?" he asked her, and she shook her head.
Slipknot was in a hotel room for the night, something that didn't happen often especially on the gruelingly long touring cycles like the one that they were currently smack-dab in the middle of. Almost everyone doubled up on rooms, and Mick and Grace had -unsurprisingly- ended up together.
Grace watched him from her bed as he rummaged through the suitcase on his.
"First of all, I'm not coming down anymore. I feel fine now other than how much I'm picturing that your head is a giant bottle of pills right now. Second, I'm not fucking two of them. Technically, I only fucked one and made out with the other," she explained, and Mick rolled his eyes, tossing a t-shirt at her head. She groaned as she pulled it off of herself, trying not to breathe it in. It definitely wasn't a clean t-shirt.
"Don't fucking joke about it. It's not funny. You shouldn't even be fucking anyone while you're trying to stay clean," he said, and even though she knew he was right, he was very quickly starting to get on her nerves.
"You're not my fucking mother, Mick. You're not, and I'm really goddamn tired of you acting like you are," she spat, knowing damn well that she was being unnecessarily harsh.
"You're such a fucking bitch when you wanna be, you know that?" he grumbled, and she could almost physically see him closing himself off to any more discussion.
"Why do you care so much, huh? Why?" she demanded, not done with the argument yet. Mick's eyes flashed to her, and they looked stormy. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and then sighed heavily.
"Because that night in Des Moines you scared the fucking shit out of me, you dumbass! I thought you were fucking dead! I didn't think I'd be able to save you, and it fucking scared me, okay?! It scared me and I don't want to see you like that ever again," Mick hollered at her, startling her. She'd heard him angry a million times, but she wasn't sure it had ever been directed at her quite like that.
"I'm s-sorry," she whispered, and Mick's piercing eyes locked onto her and felt like they were trying to melt her into a puddle.
"Don't fucking apologize to me if you don't mean it, Grace. I'm tired of this shit. I'm tired of always having to be the one to pick up your pieces when you break them off yourself. I'm tired of this whole 'oh, I don't want to get clean because I don't have anything to live for' thing you've got going on. You have plenty to fucking live for. You have me, a brother that loves you. You have Joey, who's scared to let you sleep alone at night because he's scared you're going to fuck yourself up somehow. You've got Jim, who is practically in fucking love with you. You've got Corey, who at the very least seems to like to either fuck you or fuck with you. You've got every single one of the other guys, and so much other shit. You're not alone. You're never alone, and I'm sorry you feel like you are but, goddamn it, I'm tired of you being so fucking thick headed. It's time to wake up," Mick ranted, and Grace's eyes went wide at his diatribe.
He watched her for a few moments longer and then his gaze broke off from hers and he shook his head. She wanted to respond but didn't even know which parts of his statement to try and unpack first. She hadn't known that the reason Joey usually ended up in her bed was because he was afraid. She hadn't known Jim was 'practically in love' with her, and she sure as hell hadn't really known -or maybe she just hadn't cared- that she was coming off as so stubborn and, frankly, seemingly kind of annoying to the people around her.
"Mick," she whispered his name, and he didn't look up at her. "Mick, please."
Her voice was tearful and this time he did look up hesitantly. He studied her and she knew he was probably trying to figure out if they were real tears or not. They were.
"I didn't know, okay? I didn't... I didn't think about any of that. I've been too fucking selfish to care. All I've been thinking about is getting high, and I didn't even realize I was hurting everyone. Genuinely, I hadn't even really thought about it. I know that sounds fucking awful, but it's true. I didn't know you were scared, I didn't know Joe was scared. I didn't know," she sobbed, and he crossed the room to her, pulling her into his solid embrace. She hugged him back hard, crying into his chest.
"I know. I know you hadn't thought about any of it, and I know it's not your fault. But listen to me, Grace. I am not going to watch you try to slowly kill yourself anymore. I can't do it anymore. I know this is shitty and not something you're supposed to say to a recovering addict, but if you start up again, I'm gone. I can't do this again," he told her, his voice quiet and sad. She nodded against him.
"Okay. Okay, Micky. I don't want to start again. I'm done being a selfish asshole," she told him, truly meaning it and surprising even herself with the sincerity behind the words. He pulled away enough to look at her and shook his head shortly.
"You can't tell me you're done being a selfish asshole. You'll be a selfish asshole even if you never taken another pill for the rest of your life," he joked, making her laugh through her tears.
"Okay, fine. I'll do my best to stop being a selfish asshole. Better?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Much."
"You were just fucking around when you said Jim's practically in love with me, right?" she asked a few moments later, making him roll his eyes and sit down heavily on the edge of her bed.
"Please tell me that's not all you got from everything I just said to you."
"It's not, just... is it true?"
"I don't know if he's in love with you, but I do know he's definitely into you. He never fucking shuts up about you. It's irritating."
"And you never thought to tell me this before?"
"I thought you knew."
"Of course I didn't know! I'm a selfish asshole who was always in a drug haze!"
Mick laughed quietly, shrugging.
"Well, now you know I guess. By the way, he's pissed that you fucked Corey," he informed her quietly, and she sighed heavily.
"And you didn't think to tell me that either?"
"I was pissed at you too. I thought it would be funnier if he yelled at you," he admitted, and she laughed too.
"And I'm the asshole?"
"Damn right you are," he told her, standing and making his way back to his suitcase.
