Starry I think not (terrorcest)

Tears

A/N: okay warning on this one. Just be warned. It's not bad, just mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Nikki Sixx

The pain I'm in is insurmountable. I can barely breathe still, lungs trying to adjust to life again. I didn't expect to be back on earth. I must've timed it wrong. I didn't expect to be revivable when Tommy showed up. But he did, and now he says he loves me. He says he loves me, but he's with Heather.

"Nikki." Tommy whispers. I open my eyes to look up at him, still halfway cradled in his arms since we haven't moved after I woke up.

"Yeah?" I rasp, my throat burning with the effort.

"I love you so much." He says, as he's been saying for the last five minutes.

"I-I- love you too-" I reply. I truly believe that he does, and it's all starting to connect.

He still has his hand on mine, and so I take it, wrapping my bloodied fingers and his long skinny ones together. I have to close my eyes again, the sun burning them. I open them though, when I can feel Tommy shaking under me.

I squint my eyes to see him sobbing uncontrollably, while still squeezing my hand tightly. I reach my other arm up and cup the side of his face, warm tears running onto my hand.

"I thought I...I thought I lost you... and you- you weren't- weren't b-breathing- and...and..." Tommy cries, pulling my aching body onto his and sobbing into my shoulder, soaking it.

I can't really move, I'm still light headed. I do my best to wrap my arm around him anyways. I'm actually happy that I survived this time. The last time I tried, I ripped the hook out of the ceiling.

But this time it's all good. I confessed my love to Tommy and he actually loves me back. I was terrified that he would hate me, call me slurs, or tell me that I should die.

But no, here I am, wrapped in his arms. I don't quite get why he's crying. I survived after all, and right now is the first time I've actually felt okay in a long time.

"Jesus...I-I should...um lets get you some food." Tommy stutters, becoming coherent again.

"Okay..." I regret saying that. I know I don't have any food in the house unless you count spray cheese.

I haven't eaten in 2 weeks. I don't know why. I haven't cared enough to I guess. Plus shooting up and taking shots keep me plenty satisfied. It's fine.

"Hey Nik?" Tommy asks suddenly.

"Mmm?" I mumble, nearly crying with the vibrations pressing into my throat.

"What's that, and why are your hands so bloody?" He asks, pointing to the strip of cloth tied onto my arm that is now blood red. It was once white.

I shrug, pulling the cloth away to reveal four large gashes. They're bigger than the other cuts on my arm, which I've concealed any time I've had to go out within this month.

I hack at my skin with the razor blade, watching as blood flows free from my arm. My tears mix with the red liquid.

This is different than the small amount of blood that you get when injecting heroin. This is angry blood, blood that has been pent up with the toxic emotions, and now it's free.

I guess I cut deeper than I thought I did, and I start uncontrollably bleeding onto the living room floor. I have to stop it. This isn't good. I grab a piece of cloth, which I was going to sew onto my jeans, and place it over the four cuts.

"Nikki?" Tommy asks.

I turn my head to look at him. The explosion of pain in my neck really scares me. He looks concerned and like he's gonna cry any second. His face relaxes in relief as I acknowledge him.   I try to smile at him, weakly pulling his face closer to mine until we're wrapped in a passionate kiss, tongues slipping in and out of each others mouths.

Later, after we had ordered dinner and I had somewhat cleaned myself, we laid on the couch. I'm tucked snugly in between Tommys chicken like legs, head resting on his chest.

"Are you excited to be a dad?" I ask tentatively, not knowing what he'll say.

"Yes! God I'm more than excited. Like so excited if I was a rocket I would blast into the sky!" Tommy squeals, squeezing his legs tightly around me.

"Well thats good. I'd make a shitty dad. I would probably end up making the same mistakes my parents did with me."

"Nik, you would be a fantastic dad."

I laugh softly. As much as I want to be completely happy, I'm worried. Me and Tommy just confessed our love, but what are we?

"Tom?" I ask.

"Yeah Sixxter?"

"So like I know this sounds dumb, but what are we? Like romantically? You know since we love each other and shit..." I fumble, trying to think of the words.

I know for a fact that Heather doesn't like me. She didn't want Tommy to stay the night, but he finally convinced her he would be home tomorrow.

He presses the whiskey bottle to my lips as he speaks, and I guzzle the strong liquid that streams down my aching throat.

"Well I don't know.... I can't just leave Heather, and the public would never approve. Mötley would probably get kicked off our label. Plus we're "ladies men". So I guess we're secret lovers." Tommy explains, finally taking the whiskey bottle away from my lips.

"That makes sense." I reply, as we turn back to watching the shitty christmas movie on TV, occasionally kissing languidly until I drift off in his arms.