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

What The Fuck Is Happy Anyway

by MaryJaneSixx 0 reviews

Izzy's thoughts

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: R - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2017-07-10 - 3423 words

After Erin leaves to go back to the room she’s sharing with Mandy courtesy of Duff I lay down on the bed that Axl’s not sleeping on; I don’t want to wake him up. He’s such an insomniac that when he does finally fall asleep I want him to stay that way because his body so badly needs the time to restore itself from all those days of being awake. He’d probably sleep until morning and it was only 6:30 in the evening. He needed that sleep though; he hadn’t slept at all since he got out of the hospital except for the few hours after I shot him up with heroin two nights ago. I curl up on the bed and turn on the TV with the volume turned down low but I can’t concentrate. My mind keeps drifting back to everything that’s happened in the past week.

I can’t believe Axl jumped offstage and punched a cop for pushing around some fan. Actually, since it’s Axl I can believe it. I just didn’t think he would have done it when he knew that he had stitches in his legs! I had looked down at him in my arms dozing in and out of sleep from the heroin I gave him to numb the pain of his ruptured stitches and realized how vulnerable and small he looked. Usually he’s such a belligerent loudmouth that it doesn’t matter that he’s only 5’9 and a skinny little twig but when he’s quiet and in pain like this he looks so fragile. I gently kissed the top of his head and he had hummed quietly in acknowledgement.

“I love you Ax,” I whispered to him and squeezed him a little tighter.

“I love you too angel,” he slurred. He can’t handle being high like he used to, it’s been too long since he was an everyday user. He used to be like me and could shoot up and you’d never even know that he was buzzed but he hasn’t been that way for several years. The limo had pulled into the hotel parking lot and the driver came back to open the door for us, one of our new bodyguards whose name is Ronnie was standing by to walk us inside. He’d been riding up front with the driver so that Axl and I could have some privacy. Axl sat up and pulled himself over to the door. When he tried to stand up though he wobbled and Ronnie had to catch him.

“Axl are you alright?” I asked in alarm.

“I’m fine, it’s just the heroin, apparently I can’t do that shit and look sober at the same time anymore,” he replied with a little smile.

“No, you can’t, just like how you can’t hold your liquor,” I tease him.

“Shut up Izz!” he laughed. I kind of liked him on dope; he sure is a lot happier. I climb out behind him and sling his arm over my shoulder so that I can help him walk. Ronnie offered to do it but I won’t let him; I want to take care of my Fireball myself. I held him upright and guided him through the throng of fans outside to the elevators.

When we got to our our room I sat him down on the bed and peeled off his shirt and gently eased his pants off. They’re stained with blood from where his stitches popped. “Fireball let me see your thighs so I can see how much damage there is,” I told him. He had eased his legs apart and I checked the long rows of black stitches running from his groin almost to his knees. He popped three on his left leg and two on his right. When I saw them I had known they were going to have to be re-sutured and he wasn’t going to be happy about it.

“You popped five stitches baby, you’re going to have to get them sewed up again,” I sighed.

“Fuck that,” he growled. “I’m not going to back to the hospital for that shit

“You’re going to have to get them fixed Axl,” I said to him. “Those cuts will get infected and then you’ll be in big trouble. “I’ll ask Doug to try and have a doctor come here though, we can probably get that set up. Doug had pulled through and gotten a doctor to come to the hotel and restitch the cuts on his leg.

Axl had bitched and moaned and tried to act like he wasn’t a little scared but he gave himself away when he had reached out and gripped my hand when the doctor threaded the needle. Once he realized that the lidocaine worked really well and that he couldn’t feel anything he went back to grumbling but he didn’t let my hand go. The doctor had given him some pain meds when he left and that’s why he’s sleeping now too; his legs had been hurting all day today so he’d taken a couple more of the percocets the doctor had given him and now he was sleeping the blissful slumber of someone knocked out on opiates.

I don’t know if he’s going to be able to keep going the last show of this stupid tour; he’s a wreck emotionally; although to the outside observer his behavior isn’t much different than it ever is. But they aren’t the ones who hold him when he has nightmares. They aren’t the ones that he yells at and then cries to saying how sorry he is. They aren’t the ones he tells that he secretly sort of wishes that he HAD died instead of coming back and having one more instance of sexual assault to deal with. I’m the one who deals with all of that. I’m the one who comforts him when he wakes up screaming. I’m the one who takes his insults and then holds him while he sobs his apologies into my shirt. I’m the one who has to try and hold in my tears when he says he wishes that he wasn’t here anymore.

It’s hard right now to hold him up as much as he needs when my own head was so fucked up. Being around Nikki and Tommy has been too fucking much some days. There had been days on this tour when I had full blown panic attacks just thinking about having to leave the hotel room and see them. Just the shame and discomfort and anger and although I didn’t want to admit it to myself there was still a lot of fear associated with seeing them was too much sometimes! I’d try and hide it from Slash by shooting up in the bathroom but Slash isn’t dumb; he knew I was lying and he walked into the bathroom once after I’d said that and found me sitting on the floor with my knees pulled up to my chest against the side of the bathtub sweating and shaking and wishing to God that I could cry but tears won’t come during a panic attack. Tears bring relief and your body and mind aren’t trying to give you that when you’re panicking; relief would dampen that fight or flight instinct that panic is all about. Slash had taken one look at me and known instantly what was happening; Duff had panic attacks a lot. He’d calmly wet a washcloth with cold water and sat down next to me and softly wiped down my face and neck and ears, even my hands. The cool water was soothing as was the feeling of somebody caring enough to run the rag over my skin. He’d quietly asked what was wrong and had massaged my hands while I was talking; that was the ultimate in soothing techniques. Guitarists get sore hands and having the muscles rubbed and relaxed felt amazing.

When the tears finally did come I turned into a babbling, sobbing, mess and Slash had held me and told me that I’d be ok, that I was safe now (which I so wasn’t; none of us were and I knew it) and that we only had to get through a few weeks of touring with those bastards. It was the same mantra I now used on Axl and it worked more or less. I have to admit though that it felt nice to have someone comforting ME for once, trying to make ME feel safe and cared for but it doesn’t matter because given the choice of letting Axl twist in the wind when he needs me while I’m happy or me being unhappy so that I can be there for him when he needs me I’ll choose to give up my own happiness for his every time. I love Axl more than anyone else in the world including myself and that’s just how it is; it doesn’t mean that this was what I wanted 100% though.

I had been happy with Slash, happy in the first time in years and I had walked away from him to save Axl and so that Axl wouldn’t have to be alone. I had known as soon as I figured out that Nikki had kidnapped Axl that I was going to have to leave Slash behind so that I could go and take care of Axl. I want to say that I don’t resent Axl for it because it’s not his fault; he didn’t ask for Nikki to kidnap and rape him anymore than I had asked for the same thing. But I do resent him. I’d spent years trying to make Axl feel safe and loved and he’d torn me down over and over; he’d tell you the same thing about me though I guess. It feels like the first chance I found to find happiness away from him that something grand and dramatic had to happen to make me come running back to have to take care of him. I know that it just seems that way and I know it was in no way intentional but it just feels like the universe has some sort of vendetta against me or something and that whatever god there was wanted me to be with Axl whether I was miserable with him or not! This thought pisses me the fuck off so I have to kick the bathroom trash can across the room. Axl never stirs; he just keeps right on sleeping. Looking at his sleeping face calms me down a little because when he sleeps he looks so innocent and peaceful and he’s fucking beautiful and it reminds me that I do in fact love him even if I do feel trapped in this relationship.

When I saw the kid yesterday walking down the hall with Treader following him my heart did some kind of spazzing out thing where it felt like it contracted, skipped a beat, and then sped up which made my face turn red. I don’t think he noticed though. It hit me right then just how much I’d liked having someone there to hold ME the fuck up for once. Memories of how it felt to be cradled and petted and soothed and loved came flooding back and part of me wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him how sorry I was and beg him to take me back. Fortunately the more sensible part of me prevailed and I walked away after one small kiss. He’d been startled but he’d started to kiss back a little and I had to walk away before I wasn’t able to. Ten more seconds and I’d have been a goner which would have devastated Axl and Duff again and that’s not what either of us wants.

I can tell Slash is thrilled to be in Duff’s arms again and Duff is more than thrilled, he’s like over the fucking moon about it! I’m not going to mess up their chance at happiness when I know in my heart that Axl’s the one I’ll always come running back to. Don’t get me wrong: I love Axl with my whole heart and I want to be with him; I just wish he could give me more of the affection and support that Slash had given me. Like I told the kid: he was never a mistake and I was always going to love him for everything he was to me; a friend, a lover,and a source of unending comfort. I just couldn’t be with him knowing that Axl was alone after Nikki hurt him. Fortunately Slash understands and doesn’t hate me.

I’m worried about Nikki and Tommy going after Slash before this tour is over too; I’m fairly sure that they wanted him to do a lot more than suck Nikki’s dick! Thank God for Duff! He’s on high alert too since they attacked the kid so hopefully he’ll be able to protect him if the time comes. Maybe just the fact that Duff’s a constant presence wherever the kid is will be enough to deter any thoughts of grabbing him again. Duff loves that kid the way I love Axl; well, he loves him as deeply as I love Axl anyway. Those too aren’t in such a dark place; their love has way more light in it than Axl’s and mine does; the storm clouds haven’t let loose on the two of them over and over and over and I hope it stays that way. Their sunniness makes them fucking adorable to everyone and sometimes I have to look away. But when I do look away I see my Fireball and where there’s fire there’s light and heat so my world’s not as dark as it seems and I’m trying to keep Axl’s fire going so that his world doesn’t get too dark and cold either. Fuck, why do I sit around and think about all of this shit?! Why couldn’t I just be a normal, slow, person like Stevie and sit around and be happy just watching TV without a thought or care in my head?

I’m pulled out of my morose thoughts when a sound that’s somewhere between a wail and a sob erupts from Axl’s sleeping form. I fly across the small space between the beds and crawl over beside him, close but not too close; I didn’t want to get hit by a fist before he calmed down. His green eyes are blazing with what looks like fury and terror all at one time which more than makes sense after all that he’s been through lately. He was so angry at Nikki and everyone else who’d raped him for taking something from him, for humiliating him, for making him feel ashamed. He was also scared of them during the attacks and of course he still was; you never forget the power a rapist had over you and the fear of someone having that much power over you again is terrifying.

“Axl, it’s ok baby, you’re ok, you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s Izzy, you’re ok,” I said to him quietly. If I act upset it just feeds his emotional disaster and he doesn’t need that. He looks at me and I can see his inner struggle to make his mind and body accept that he’s indeed safe and that he was just dreaming, it always takes a minute to make that happen. “I’m here Fireball, I’m right here and you’re here with me, it’s just you and me, you’re safe Axl.” I just sit and quietly talk to him this way for a minute or so until his body un-tenses and his breathing slows a little. When the look in his eyes is less fierce and more accepting I ask him “Can I touch you now?”

“Y, ye, yeah,” he manages to growl out and I scoot closer and pull him into my arms.

His bony body is hot and sweaty and he’s still stiff with fear. I prop myself up against the headboard with some of the pillows from the bed and pull him into my chest. I don’t say anything I just hold him there and stroke his hair. “I love you Billy,” I whisper to him and when I say it I know that it’s the truth; I do love him even though I’m frustrated at how and when we got back together. At this second I’m happy to have Axl’s bony little ass in my arms, I’m happy to be running my fingers through his sleek, red, hair.

He looks up, a little surprised at hearing his real name I guess. “I love you too,” he answers. Then he throws me totally off by seizing my face in his hands and pressing his lips to mine hard. I suck in my breath and try to pull away so that I can see his eyes and know what he’s thinking but he won’t let me. I have no choice but to kiss him back or fight him and I don’t feel like fighting him. So I wrap my arms around him snugly and kiss back. He relaxes and stops kissing me so hard that my lips are getting bruised. We kiss until we’re both relaxed and he finally pulls back. “Listen, I know you’re frustrated Angel and stressed out and probably confused about a lot of shit and I’m sorry. I’ve been in your shoes man, well, more or less and I know it’s hard; you end up needing some sort of relief. We’ve got Erin around now so if you want to fuck her don’t feel bad about it ok?” he tells me.

I just look at him, confused as hell. “Axl, I, I can wait; she’s just an orgasm, I can jerk myself off with the same result.; no way baby. I’m not doing shit to cause more problems between us ok? I’ve been where you are and I know how much the idea of you fucking her because you couldn’t wait for me hurt; I’m not doing that shit to you.”

He looks up at me with almost tearful eyes. “Thanks Angel,” he whispers.

I pull him closer to me and kiss his forehead. “I love you Fireball,” I murmur as he buries his face in my neck.

“I love you too,” he answers. Then after a few seconds he asks “Izz, can we watch Murder She Wrote?”

“You and that fuckin show,” I grumble affectionately, secretly glad that he wants to do something besides sleep and that he wants to do it with me even if it is watch that stupid fucking show! “Sure, put it on babe.” He happily grabs the remote and turns on the TV, quickly finding that god awful program. I make us a nest of pillows and he lays back against my chest and we lay there and watch Jessica Fletcher solve yet another murder in Cabot Cove Maine. “Ax do you realize that there has to be something in the water in Cabot Cove or something else wrong with the town for there to be so many murders in a small town?”

“I have a theory about that…” Axl starts and I groan; why did I bring that up? Of course he has a theory! “I think the town was cursed,” he’s saying and I just roll my eyes but inwardly I’m smiling; glad he’s feeling well enough to tell me what his cockamaymee theory is. This is the Axl I love and it feels good at the moment to have him back in my arms.
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