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Nikki

That fucking cunt Erin gave me a case of crabs. Fucking stupid bitch had to know. I can't believe this bitch did this to me. She was do gonna get it. She thinks she can give me crabs and get away with it? Hell to the no! I'm gonna beat her within an inch of her life. I know she got that shit from one of the four Gunners she's been fucking! Serves her right! I mean I'm not jealous or anything, but she gave me CRABS! I've had the little fuckers dozens of times, that's not he point, I just didn't want the unwanted hassle. That's OK! It's A-OK! I WILL get her back. I seriously might just beat her ass, depends on what kind of mood I'm in when our paths cross again.

So I take care of that problem and go down to the hotel bar for a drink. Im kinda surprised when I see Slash there all alone. Where's security? Where's Duff? Where's Izzy? Hummmm, all alone drinking. A smirk comes to my face as I go over and get rid of the random nobody sitting next to him. I plop down on the stool and order a bottle of Jack. I notice Slash noticing me and turn and smile at him.

Slash raises his hand, "Check please."

I chuckle, "Are you leaving just because of little old me?"

"Damn straight," is his reply as he continues to try to flag the bartender.

"Awe, are you still mad about the other day?" I ask opening my bottle of Jack and pouring some. "Here, have a drink on me," I say and fill his glass.

He stares at it a moment. I know he wants it by the shaking of his hands. Inevitability he picks it up and slams it. Then he motions the bartender again.

I refill his glass again. "Oh come on, let's let bygones be bygones. I was just using you for misdirection so I could get Axl. And this is me apologizing." I shrug and motion to the drink I just poured him.

"Apologizing?!" He looks at me all crazy eyed. And I hold my cocky little gleam. " What the fuck are you apologizing for?! Making my boyfriend marry your drug dealer? The horrible shit you did to Izzy?! Raping Axl?! Trying to kill Steven?! Or sticking your dick down my throat!?!?!"

"Keep your fucking voice down," I growl and chug from my bottle.

"Why you don't want the world knowing you're a fucking bisxual?! Or do you not want them to know you're a RAPIST?! Or that you get off on hurting people?!" He's emphatically yells.

I take another chug,"Id shut my fucking mouth if I were you," I say flatly.

"Fuck you!" He yells then punches me out of nowhere.

Big fucking mistake! "Oh you wanna play rough?" I give a gleaming smirk. I lean over to him. "You would have loved it if I had gotten around to it."

"Oh yes, cause RAPE is just the highlight of everybody's fucking life!" He yells at me.

I turn to face him. I extend my hand out and grab his shoulder just at the pressure point. His face contorts. I sit him down on the bar stool. "Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up," I release him and reach for my bottle. I bring it to my mouth and stop. I look at Slash glaring his hatred at me. "Are you going to drink that or what? Shits not free you know."

"Well nothing with you ever is, is it?" He sarcastically asks me.

I just smirk and pull the bottle to my lips and drink. "Tell me, how's your singer?" I ask.

"Fuck you," is all he says and continues to glare at me.

"Well my shoulder your guitarist shot me in is healing nicely. Thanks for asking," I roll my eyes.

"I wish he would have killed you!"

I shrug, "Blame your drummer for knocking him off his aim."

"Yeah well Stevie has always had more heart than brains. How fortunate for you," he sneers.

I look over at him with a raised eyebrow," I'm not going to take much more of that mouth."

"Yeah I'm sure you probably don't like it as much without your DICK in it!!"

"I won't warn you again," I point my finger at him. And I do mean fucking business. One more word and I'm body slamming this little bitch. I'm actually trying to be nice to him. All he wants to do is throw cheap shots loud enough for the whole damn bar to hear. I'm not even in the mood to fuck with him or his band right now. I just wanted a fucking drink really, maybe some uncontested verbal cheap shots of my own. But this shit is really working my patience.

"Like I'm really worried about your warning. I know you pull sneak attacks like a sneaky little bitch!"

"Little bitch," I huff, "no the little bitches are you and all your bandmates. Izzy screams like one. You're as pretty as one. Axl just is one. Steven is dumb like one. And Duff... Duff..." Suddenly Slash jerks the bottle from my hand. He brings it up like he aims to hit me with it. I break away and lunge with all my weight into his left shoulder. He goes down hard with me on top of him. "And now I've got you on your back like a bitch. It won't be the last time;and I'll remember how you like to use whiskey bottles as weapons you little shit!"

He mostly ignores what I said though because he's busy whining. "My neck!!" He moans out and is reaching for the back of it.

"Delicate like a bitch too, good to know," I huff and push myself up off him. He doesn't even try to get up, he just lays there rolling from side to side holding his fucking neck. Damn, maybe I did hurt him. Oh well, fuck him, he deserved it. "Does the little baby boy need an ambulance? Who's the bitch again?" I tower over him looking down with a shit eating grin.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?!" Somebody shouts behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Duff standing there with his eyes worrying over Slash.

"Oh him? He's fine, just acting like a little BITCH!"

Duff rushes over and crouches next to Slash. "Baby boy, where does it hurt? What happened? Are you ok? Do you need help?"

"Neck. Nikki. No. Yes," he moans.

"Nikki did this to you?" He asks trying to help Slash sit up.

"He fucking body slammed me!" Slash winces.

Duff looks up at me like a pissed off puffer fish with pirrinah teeth. I just shrug, "He was running his mouth. I gave him fair fucking warning."

Duff shoots up with his chest to mine, "Why the fuck can't you leave us alone?!"

"I was being nice," I smirk, face to face with him.

"Yeah, this looks real fucking friendly Sixx!" He shoves me.

"Don't push me Duff," I say giving him fair verbal warning.

"Don't Duff! He wants you to!" Slash warns from his seat on the floor.

I just peer at Duff smiling.

"Call an ambulance," Duff says to he bartender but never takes his eyes off me. Fuck him.

Duff

An ambulance came about half an hour later. Good thing Curly Sue isn't in the middle of a very serious emergency; my poor baby would have died. Doug comes down to handle the hotel management and the paparazzi taking pictures and asking questions. He tells them that Slash and Sixx were just drunkenly wrestling around and Slash got hurt.

At the hospital we find out that Slash has four dislocated vertebrae in the top of his neck and they can't be put back in place. He's trying so hard not to cry but tears keep leaking out of his sweet, dark, eyes because he's in so much pain.He held the tears in until we were in the ambulance and Nikki was out of sight and it wasn't until we were alone with the paramedics in the ambulance that he let tears trickle out and I realized how much he was hurting. I asked him if he was ok and squeezed his hand (he had refused to let go of mine except for when they loaded him into the ambulance) and he said "It hurts so much Duffy." I leaned over and kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair back and told him we'd be at the hospital soon and that I wouldn't leave him for a second and that seemed to calm him down a little bit. Fortunately they shot him full of Demerol pretty soon after we got to the hospital.

His neck has to stay immobile until they can put the dislocated vertebrae back in place and then for the next three weeks following that. They stick him in a neck brace. He tells them he can't wear it on stage. They urge him to do it, but if he just absolutely has to he can take it off, but not until they fix the dislocation. But even then he has to keep his neck as still as possible; no head banging, no tossing his hair around to get it out of his face, he needs to be still. I have no clue how he plans to do that. He would get caught up in the show and surely move his neck; I just hope he doesn't hurt himself even worse.

When we get back to the hotel we're both beat and only have a few hours to sleep before we have to get up for interviews. Naturally we're met at the door by the Crue's manager Doc doing damage control. "Nikki has agreed not to comment on this at all to the press." Wow, big fucking shock there. Why would he rat himself out? "Now I just need you two to sign an agreement stating that you too agree to keep your lips sealed."

"Fuck off, we aren't signing shit," I say shoving past him as I held Slash very still.

"We're prepared to cover Slash's hospital bills."

"Damn straight you are," Slash says under his breath.

"Come on guys, let's not make a big deal out if this," Doc sorta says desperately as he follows us.

"Slash has four dislocated vertebrae dude, do you realize that your fucking bassist could have paralyzed him from the neck down?!" I ask pushing he elevator button.

"But he's ok, he didn't even have to spend the night in he hospital. Come on, what do you want? Just name it."

"Well for starters keep Nikki the fuck away from us," I say.

"Yeah, and I want a vintage Gibson," Slash pipes up.

"So for a guitar and keeping Nikki away you'll stay quiet about this incident and go with the wrestling story?"

The elevator opens and we get in. "Yeah, whatever," I sigh and push our floor.

Doc looks at me and sighs, "Believe me, I know what an asshole Sixx is. He's had it rough. But the guy is a fucking genius when it comes to being in a band. He's the fucking money train around here. Don't you know how much exposure you've gained on this tour? Watched any MTV lately? Sweet Child is in the top ten and it's because of this tour! Do you have any clue what kind of crowd Crue pulls in?"

"Uh yeah, we are the opening band," I roll my eyes.

"And so what if Sixx had it rough, he couldn't have had it any worse than Axl. It's not a reason for him to constantly fuck with us! Do you even know what all he's done to us?!" Slash is getting wound up,I have no idea what is going to come out of his mouth. "He made Duff marry his dealer so you guys couldn't get rid of her! He had Tommy rape Izzy.! He raped Axl! He' stuck his cock down my throat. He's black mailed us! He fucking vandalized all of Izzy's guitars! He almost broke my fucking neck! He's set our hotel on fucking fire! He set off fireworks in a Mexican whore house! He had Erin break up Izzy and Axl! Fuck man, how much more of his fucking shit are we supposed to take from him?! He should be in jail; not touring the country with his band! Izzy almost died; do you understand that? Your precious freak could have been charged with murder, he should have been charged with attempted manslaughter, rape, and forcible sodomy! Get out of my fucking face with that "he's had it hard" shit!

"I'm aware he's given you some trouble..."

"SOME trouble?!" I shout, "some fucking trouble?! Is that all you can say, some trouble?!"

The elevator opens and I put my arm around Slash's waist and start to lead him gently out of the elevator so his neck doesn't jar. Doc is still hot on our trail. "So are we in agreement?" He questions with a semi frantic tone.

I unlock our door. I turn to him and send Slash into the room. "We haven't said shit about any of the fucked up shit he's done to us, have we? Why fucking start now? If you don't mind I have to put Slash to bed for a few measly hours of sleep."

"Sure thing. He'll have that guitar in a few days. if there's anything you need, just ask."

"Yeah, whatever," I sigh and go in our room and lock the door. I look at Slash standing stiffly. "You ok baby boy?"

"I'll live. You mind getting me straight baby, not like I can do it myself."

"Yeah, let's just get you undressed and get you in the bed first."

He nods as I walk over and pull his shirt over his neck brace. Then I unzip his pants and push them down to his ankles. He steps out of them as I pull the covers back. I carefully hold him and help him lower down to a seated position. I lift his legs up on the bed. Then I put a hand under his back and one on his chest and lower him down slowly. I pulled the covers up over him.

"I'm ok...could you..."

I nod and walk around the bed and sit on the other side gently. I slide open the nightstand drawer and pull out a wax paper fold of smack. Slash already has a blackened spoon in there and some rigs. He has a plastic lemon too so I don't have to get back up to go get water. I pour some of the smack in the spoon. I grab the lemon and let drops drip from it and fill the spoon. There's a pack of hotel matches on the top of the night stand. I tear one off and stir up the mixture which looks like a spoon full of dirty brown water. I pull my Bic out of my pocket. I carefully lift the spoon up to eyelevel and strike my lighter. I hold it under the spoon and circle it around until it's boiling and the liquid turns a clear, amber, color. I release my lighter and carefully sit the spoon down on a flat surface. I grab a cigarette from the ashtray and tear a piece of the filter off with my teeth. I drop it into the spoon and pick up a needle. I stick the metal tip into the cigarette filter and pull back on the plunger until the spoon is empty. I hold the needle up and give it a thump and shove out the air bubble. I hold the rig in my teeth while I slide off my belt and wrap it around Slash's arm. His veins come to the surface when I give his arm a few slaps. I take the rig from my mouth and place the tip over a bulged vein. I break the skin and can hear Slash let out a slight hiss. Thankfully I get a flashback of blood when I pull back on the plunger slowly.

I look at Slash, "Here it comes." I start pushing down the plunger and can see his body visibly relaxing. He moans and let's go of his grip on the belt and I pull the spike from his vein. I sit it down and assess Slash again. They had given him a lot of Demerol at the hospital; I didn't want to overdose him. "Maybe we should lay you on your side in case you get sick." He nods and I shift him around until he's on his side. I stuff pillows all around him so he can't roll over. "You good?" I ask.

"Yeah, thanks," he barely says just before he drifts off. I'm tired too, but I want to stay up so I can make sure Slash doesn't have too much in his system.

I pull a little brown bottle of coke out of my pocket. I pour some onto the side of my fist and inhale deeply. I sit down in a chair by the bed and grab a bottle of vodka sitting on it. I take a drink and just watch my Curly Sue's breathing. I can't believe he almost had his neck broken. He could have been paralyzed or even worse, died. Fuck Nikki Sixx. May he rot in fucking hell. I'll be glad when his karma catches up to him.