Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Perchance to Dream

The Nightmare Continues

by Sabine 1 review

Axl makes a phone call.

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Warnings: [R] [V] - Published: 2006-04-05 - Updated: 2006-04-05 - 1247 words

Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't want to own them. This is just a story, it isn't real and it never happened. Ain't making money either. For entertainment purposes only.

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Author's Notes: Another old one. Cross-posted on another archive. Much thanks to Andy for helping me with it.

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October, 1996

His heart was pounding in his ears, filling his head, trying to claw out of his body. His whole body vibrated with it, drumming to the beat of far off guitars screaming on the edge of his hearing. Once, when he heard such things, it was a sign to take pen to paper and draw visions in sound of anger, pain and redemption but now, he had angered the Gods and they set the Furies upon him. Evil voices, filled with rage, whispering, whispering of vengeance and retribution; songs of beauty turning into screams of hate and underneath it all, a dirge of agonizing grief.

NO! He can't, won't listen to them! Had to function. Had to think! Do something. He was so fucking cold. How could he be so fucking cold and yet feel like he was burning up as if he was six inches to the left of the sun? Why can't he stop shaking? Why can't he see?

Ice cold wetness on his cheek. Axl reached up and touched the tears; he couldn't stop. All he wanted to do was to curl up in a ball and shut out a world that had suddenly turned against him. To shut out the chaos that was his mind or lose himself in it forever, lost in an existence that was nothing but pain. If only those guitars would just shut the fuck up, he could do that. He could accept his punishment but he sensed that they would never shut up, never fall silent. He had killed their God and the snarls of rage overlain with the faint howl of grief and the sweet trills of loss would never end. Never let up. He would be trapped forever in a hell where it would be his fate to never forget what he had done. Axl could not do that, could not face that, could not give himself to them the way they wanted. They would have to fight to drag Axl Rose into Hell because he sure wasn't going to go willingly. Not with that as his fate. Fuck no!

Strength renewed, he reached for the phone and desperately searched out the numbers he knew so well. It wasn't easy. His strength was brittle at best and he could hardly see through his tears but somehow he managed to do it. As he listened to the clicks of the connection being made, he reflected that sometimes denial wasn't a bad thing. If he could just concentrate on that, he could function and figure out what to do. He could get help and get out of this mess. Go on with his life, and pretend nothing had happened.

Yes, denial was a very good thing.

The guitars swelled up, their howls and snarls louder then ever before as the whispers turned into screams. They didn't like what he was thinking and they clawed at him, flaying his flesh from his bones in their rage. Axl gasped and went blind as he fell to his knees even as he listen to the faint ringing in the hand set that meant his salvation.

"Yeah?" a voice suddenly spoke over the line.

Axl gulped, fighting the urge to give in and struggling to focus enough to think. He heard silence at the other end of the line, the faint sound of distant breathing. Waiting.

"Izzy?" he gasped. God, was that even his voice?

More silence, only this time there was a definite touch of menace running through it.

"What do you want?" Izzy's voice turned hostile. He didn't even bother acknowledging Axl.
Why should he? He had already said what he needed to say.

Axl's breath ratcheted in his throat as he struggled with the panic, "Izzy...I need help."

More silence. Axl held his breath, hoping against all hope that Izzy still cared enough to at least consider it. In a rare moment of honesty, Axl knew that his old friend had no reason to help him. He could only pray that Izzy had forgiven him enough that he would do so if only out of consideration for the happier times they spent together.

The snap of a lighter sounded over the phone and Axl heard the faint intake of breath. There was a pause and then the exhale. He could almost see Izzy lighting his cigarette, his eyes thoughtful as the smoke entered his lungs, holding it there a brief moment before the explosion of smoke through slightly parted lips. Izzy never did anything without careful consideration, not even smoke a cigarette.


Axl's relief brought him to his knees, still clutching the phone with a white knuckled grip. Izzy wasn't committing to anything but he was at least thinking about it and for Axl, that was enough.

"Izzy, I - " he choked. "I'm in trouble. Real bad trouble. I don't know what to do!"

A pause and then Izzy laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"Really?" he sneered.

Axl paled.

"I'm serious man," he told his old friend and band mate, desperation creeping into his voice. "I need help!"

"Whatcha do, Axl? Punch another reporter? Open your trap once too often and piss someone off? I know. You pissed off Hetfield and now the Metallica boys are after your ass." Izzy paused to take a drag off his cigarette and laughed, "I think I'd pay to see that."

There's no help for it, Axl, he told himself. Izzy wasn't going to listen. Just come out and say it.

He took a deep breath, "Izzy, I - I had another episode."

Dead silence. Not even the sound of breathing came over the line. Axl could almost see Izzy stiffen, his eyes going flat as his expression froze into an implacable mask. People underestimated Izzy, thought him as weak and almost feminine but Axl knew better. Izzy was as hard as they came and not even Axl would want to tangle with him once he decided to take action. Izzy could seriously fuck you up.


"Just now. Izzy - "

"What happened?"

"Oh God," Axl moaned, his hand flying to his head and all but pulling his hair out by the roots. "Izzy, it's Slash - "

A sharp intake of breath stopped him.

"What about Slash?" Izzy snarled. He was angry now.

"Izzy, I-I think I might have killed him." Axl was crying now. He couldn't stop. "Oh God, Izzy, it's awful. H-he's not moving and - and I don't know what to do - "

"Shut the fuck up," another drag of the cigarette as Izzy took time to think. "Where are you?"

"At his place. Izzy - "

"I said shut up!" Izzy snapped. "Now listen to me, Axl. Are you listening to me?"


"Listen very carefully. Do nothing. Touch nothing. Call no one. You hear me? You just sit down in the middle of the fucking room and mind your own fucking business until I get there. Do you understand me, Axl?"


"Good. I'll be there as soon as I can and Axl?"


"You better pray to whatever fucked up God you worship that he's all right." Izzy hung up and all Axl had left with to give him comfort was a dial tone.
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