genre: tragic fluff prompt: after Nikki's "death" you convince him to get the help he needs word count: 1,045 words requested by: BigRockerSlut
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1987
It was late and you were pacing around the halls of your house to calm your nerves. It had become a habit of yours when your boyfriend went out with his friends because you knew how unfaithful he had been with his past girlfriends and it made you anxious every time he left you, especially when there were drugs and alcohol involved.
You had the television on in the background on some random channel for some sort of noise that would make you feel less isolated in the rather large estate.
Eventually, you decided that it would be best to just sit and find something to watch on TV to pass the time. After grabbing the remote and flipping through a few channels, your eyes caught your boyfriend's name as the headline for a news channel so you went back to it.
"Nikki Sixx, the bassist for the controversial heavy metal band Mötley Crüe has tragically died this evening of a heroin overdose. He was 29 years old," the older news anchor solemnly shared.
You felt your whole world shatter.
You could feel tears on the brink of falling before they finally did when you remembered the moments when the two of you were happy together. You remembered how you met.
Your best friend dragged you to a Mötley Crüe concert a year before, ignoring your protests.
"C'monnn Y/N," she whined. "They're so hot, you have to come. Maybe you could hook up with one of them." She winked.
"Yeah, right. I don't want an STD, thank you very much," you responded, rolling your eyes.
You ended up going and loving the concert. Your best friend ended up getting front row seats and Nikki kept his eye on you almost the entire time that he was playing, but you didn't notice because you were so focused on the music and letting loose.
Afterward, a man from security came up to you before you could leave, telling you that one of the band members wanted you to go backstage. At first, you denied the request because you didn't want to leave your friend, but you eventually accepted after she gave a whole list of reasons why you should go.
The bouncer led you to a dressing room with the word "Sixx" on the door. You knocked before hearing a faint "come in" from the other side, which was your cue to enter.
As soon as you walked in, you were drawn to the soft green eyes and dark wild hair that belonged to your boyfriend.
You guys hit it off that night and ended up seeing each other more and more.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by the phone ringing, causing you to flinch and let out a small scream. You walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver, ignoring the clips of your dead boyfriend playing on the TV.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Miss Y/L/N?" A woman on the other line asked with a raspy voice.
"Yes, this is her. Who may I ask is calling?" You asked.
"Good evening miss, I'm a nurse calling from Cedars Sinai, the hospital where your boyfriend Nikki Sixx is." You let out a sigh, your voice cracking a bit at the mention of his name. "We need you to come here. He's alive."
"What?" You felt your heartbeat increase until it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
"He's alive," the nurse repeated impatiently.
You quickly dropped the phone, leaving the irritated nurse on the other line questioning where you had gone. You grabbed your jacket and keys and quickly made your way to your car, getting in and driving as fast as you could to the hospital, surely breaking a few laws along the way.
As soon as you walked in, you asked for the room that Nikki was staying in—of course, the room number was 666—and ran to it as fast as you could.
You opened the door and the sight in front of you made your heart stop for a moment.
Nikki was laying on the hospital bed attached to all sorts of tubes and machines. He was still in his favorite pair of leather pants. There were two bruised purple marks where he had been injected with the adrenaline placed above his heart. You looked at his face.
His eyes were closed and his mouth seemed to curl into a slight smirk as you came closer to him. His breathing steadied and he became much calmer when you took his hand in yours, bringing a chair up to his bedside and sitting in it.
After a few hours of silently crying, he finally woke up.
"Fuck, my head is killing me," he muttered, placing a hand on his forehead as he tried to sit up.
"Nikki, lie down," you softly replied, wiping some of your tears and helping him get more comfortable.
"What the hell happened, Y/N?" He asked, flashing his curious gaze towards you.
"Y-you..." You felt a lump form in your throat that made it even harder to inform Nikki as to why he was in the hospital. "You overdosed. Nikki, you died."
"Fuck. Again?" He mumbled to himself.
"What do you mean again?" You asked with a hurt expression on your face, letting go of his hand. "This happened before?"
"Shit," he muttered before sitting up, wincing due to his splitting headache. "Yes. It happened a couple of years back. I woke up in a dumpster that time."
"Nikki. You need serious help. You need to get better before you die- and not come back," you choked out the last part, looking away so Nikki couldn't see the tears rolling down your face.
He placed a digit underneath your chin, pushing your face to be met with his mesmerizing emerald eyes and used the back of his hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
"Okay," he replied. "I'll go to rehab. I'll get help because I don't want to lose you, Y/N."
You could see tears threatening to spill over in his eyes, and that was how you knew that he meant every word that he had said.
"Thank you, Nikki," you said, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes, relishing in the sweet moment the two of you were sharing.
