Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > Through The Eyes Of...

Robbing A Passed Out Dealer

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews


Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-06-17 - 1169 words


"What do you mean you're leaving him here?" I ask and pull Slash away from Axl.

"He can't stay with me. I can't stay with him," he says flatly before looking down, "He really doesn't need to be alone as fucked up as he is."

"You're just going to fucking dump him?" Slash blurts as he looks out to Izzy slumped over in the car.

"Look guys," Axl sighs and looks up at me, " of all people should know what its like to love Izzy. Come on man, you know how much it hurts to look into doped up eyes all the time. You know how it feels to be fucking lied to. You know what the fuck it's like to constantly worry about them dying on you. You left that shit behind too man."

"Yeah but I wasn't in a band with that person," I say, This is different. How the fuck are we going to get this band going if you and Izzy are on the outs?"

"Izzy wants this shit just as much as us. He'll pull it together for the band when he needs to. Izzy's not one to make scenes. He'll stay quiet and mind his own business," Axl assures me.

"So what?" Slash blasts, "Just dump him on us to pick up the fucking pieces you broke?! Let us have all that worry you talk about?!"

"Couldn't you just give him a fucking ultimatum or something?" I ask.

Axl motions to Izzy out in the car still slumped over. "I did give him a choice; you see what he chose." Axl looks down as tears start to flood his eyes again. He pops his head up at Slash. "You think I'm being an asshole, I know kid. But one day you'll understand that it's Izzy who's being the asshole. I know you think he's a fucking hero or hung the moon or some shit...but it's not real...maybe five or so years ago it would be true, but now," he motions back to Izzy in the car, "Now he's just a junkie and I fucking love him too much to watch him die." He wipes at his tears. "I've gotta go. I'm going to start hunting us a manager." And he turns and leaves.

"So what do we do with him?" Slash asks me.

I look out to the car. "We let him get good and passed out; like more than he is now. He's been out since right after I came out the front door so another half hour or so. Then we search him for dope. In the mean time we have to find his stash here."

"Won't he be pissed about that?" Slash curiously asked.

"Well it's either deal with him being pissed or deal with worrying about him overdosing. He's upset and hurting, all he's going to want to do is kill his pain. We just have to let him, just monitored so he doesn't fucking kill himself. When I first met Izzy he was just a guy who shot up just enough to not get sick."

"Wait!" Slash bursts out, "Didn't Axl say he was a dealer? Is it safe to have him here?"

"Izzy's a very careful dealer Slash; it'll be fine."

"But won't that mean we'll have junkies around here all the time?"

"No Izzy mostly quit dealing from home because it almost got him busted, he moved out in the middle of the night because cops started driving by his place. He sells out on the streets."

"Isn't that more dangerous for him?"

"He's strapped." I say.

Slash rolls his eyes, "Great, you mean we have to fucking worry about him shooting himself too?"

I just shrug. "Where do you think he hides his shit?" I look up at our apartment.

"In the bathroom somewhere," Slash shrugs.

I nodded and head straight to the bathroom with Slash at my heels. I walk in and try to think like Izzy. Where could he have hidden it all this time without us running across it? I open the cabinets and feel the tops for something taped under them. Nothing. I let my eyes scan some more as Slash starts his own search.

I walk over to the toilet and lift the lid from the tank. And there it was. "I found it," I say peeling the tape off.

We give it a half hour while staring out the windows to make sure Izzy stays out. Then we start our covert operation of basically robbing a fucking passed out dealer. "He keeps his gun in the front of his pants, we have to get that first," I warn Slash.

He nods and starts to quietly open the creaking door. Izzy shifts a little but stays asleep. I see Slash reaching for the gun.

"Be careful," I whisper and lightly grab his arms.

He nods and gently pulls Izzy's shirt up. We see the black handle of the gun sticking out. Slash lightly grips the handle with two fingers and begins to slightly tug it up. From where I stand I can see two orange caps down in Izzy's boot. Syringes. Bingo. I'm reaching for them when Izzy's eyes pop open and his hand clamps around Slash's wrist.

"Take it easy man," Slash says. "We're taking you inside, I just didn't want it going off," he says thinking fast.

I pull Izzy's limp legs out of the car and he releases Slash and we hoist him up and carry him inside. He goes right back to sleep once he's on the couch and I manage to slide a set of Syringes from both his boots. So we let him sleep and we wait.

When he wakes up he's scratching his chest. I see his eyes open(well one eye's still pretty swollen) and do a double take. They quickly cloud over and he jumps up to scurry to the bathroom. Here it fucking comes. In two point two seconds he is storming out of my bathroom and shoving me in the chest.

"Where the fuck is it?!" He yells.

"Take it easy Izz, you're not thinking real clearly. You've had a lot already, you should ride it out a while," I try to calmly reason.

"Fuck you what are you my fucking father?! Axl make you do that shit?!" he yells at me.

"Izzy just calm down," Slash says coming up behind him.

"Stay out of this kid unless you have my shit!" He glares over his shoulder at him.

"Izzy cool off man, I have it," I sigh.

"Give it here," he demands.

"No," I shake my head.

Izzy starts to lunge at me but Slash grabs him. "Izzy please stop man!" he pleads as he struggles to hold onto Izzy's flailing body.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" Izzy yells as he struggles. But Slash just holds him until he starts to grow limp and his eyes flood with tears. "Please," he begs us.
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