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Shakily, Vince reached for the phone on his nightstand, struggling to dial the numbers in his disoriented state.
He wasn't sure why, but the only number that came to mind was Nikki's.
He couldn't possibly call his parents- god knows he'd disappointed them enough already.
Beth was out of the question- their relationship was rocky at best as of late for many a reason, she and the kids had been staying with her parents all week.
He didn't even remember Tommy's at the moment, and like fuck he's gonna call Mick about this.
Nikki had been through this sort of thing before. Maybe not on the same thing, but Nikki would know what to do.
Tears clouded his vision by the third attempt to dial his bassist’s number- he felt like such a screw up- couldn't even go through with it properly and now here he is, calling his bandmate mid overdose to come save him.
It wasn't like he'd imagined at all, taking so many sleeping pills. He'd thought it'd just make him drowsy- maybe a bit nauseous- and he'd just.. drift away.
But no. This wasn't like that at all.
He couldn't fucking breathe and he could feel the bile rising in his throat- his chest burned as he heaved each breath, and fuck did his head hurt. He should have just done heroin- coke- god any drug would've probably been better than this. If he'd just waited- thought about it for a moment before downing the whole bottle. Then maybe.. maybe he wouldn't have done it at all.
Above the burning sensation in his chest and the painful lightheadedness, he felt deep sense of regret seeping in- he didn't want to die.
Fuck if he didn't deserve it, he knew he did. Bad decisions after bad decisions- he'd murdered one of his closest friends, for fuck sake. He didn't seem to care for his own life when he got into that car, so why now? Why when he'd made the decision to pay for his actions?
It was an accident, sure- but he could have avoided it. His best friend could still be here- making music, living his life, surrounded by friends and loved ones.
But ultimately, Vince got in that car drunk and high, and Vince killed him.
The click of a connecting call violently yanked him out of his thoughts, making him drop the phone, only just catching it by the wire as Nikki's voice came through.
“..Vince? Fuck are you callin’ so late for?” The grogginess in his voice was evident and guilt filled the singer's chest. He'd just woken him up for this bullshit. Still, he pressed on- though, using his voice felt near impossible in his current state.
“Nik..-” He coughed out, feeling an intense urge to hurl his guts up. “I- I need- need you-, please-..” He felt drool drip down his chin as he struggled to stay propped up against the bedside table.
“What? Dude, are you okay? You sound like shit man-” He'd clearly failed to grasp the severity of the situation- still sounding half asleep.
‘Or perhaps he just doesn't care?’ Sounded a cruel voice in the back of Vince's head, the reason he'd gotten himself into this mess in the first place.
‘Maybe the whole band would be glad to get rid of you?’ It sounded again, sending more tears down his cheeks.
And when ‘Murderer.’ echoed through his mind, he'd started outright sobbing, clutching the rotary to his chest weakly.
“Fuck- Vince? Man? You okay??” Nikki sounded more awake now, panic rising in his voice. Vince never cried around him- around anyone in the band, really. Sure- Mick got a little sobby when overdrunk- or maybe during a really bad flareup, and Tommy was always sent into a fit of tears during romance movies- even Nikki put on some tears to play sensitive for the girls- but Vince? No one ever caught him crying. Something was definitely wrong. “Man, seriously- I'm getting worried- did you like- have one of those nightmares or something?”
“Should I call your wife-?” He added more urgently, before getting cut off by Vince's broken sob of; “O-Overdose. Please help..”
There was a beat of silence on Nikki's end of the call, just long enough for more nasty thoughts to start creeping in- but the jingling of keys soon cut through. “Hang in there man, I'll be ten minutes.” Nikki's voice was firm and steady this time. “What'd you take?”
Vince swallowed hard, the action burned and his hands began shaking. “Uh- sleep- sleepin’ pills- lotta them.” He heard himself slur as his vision started to fade slightly. “Dizzy ‘s fuck, man.” followed shortly, sounding even less coherent.
He heard the vague sound of shuffles and thuds on the other end of the call- likely nikki throwing on some clothes.
“Alright man- try throwing them up till i get there, kay? Shove your fingers down your throat if you can- I won't be long.” Without waiting for a response, Nikki put the phone down with a click that rang in Vince's ear.
He wasn't even sure he could bring himself to throw up, despite how desperately the bile in his throat threatened to come out. He just didn't have it in him, the dizziness from the lack of oxygen in his lungs was making it hard to think, let alone do anything.
Instead, he slumped against the bedside table and wall behind him, dropping the phone onto the floor. His vision was just getting darker and the sharp pain in his side grew worse.
Silently, he prayed. Prayed to god, prayed to whoever was listening. Prayed that Nikki would get there in time. Prayed that nikki would save him from himself. Prayed as his vision went black.
.
.
.
Vince was violently jerked awake by two strong fingers being roughly shoved down his throat, alongside a firm hand in his hair, tilting his head back slightly. “C'mon Barbie- stick with me,” Came Nikki's familiar voice in his ear as he felt himself gag.
Nikki pressed his fingers down on Vince's tongue, dipping them further down his throat. He gagged once again, harsher this time, and his saliva ran down Nikki's fingers, down his arm. Vince would be disgusted with himself, if he could form a coherent thought.
He felt Nikki’s grip on his hair tighten and the fingers in his mouth suddenly shoved deeper, urgency showing in Nikki's quickened movements.
The movement caused Vince to lurch forward, expelling the contents of his stomach onto his bedroom floor as soon as the fingers left his throat.
Nikki made sure to keep Vince’s sweat slicked hair out of his face as he vomited, gently rubbing his back with his now free hand. “Sshh, it's alright, you're alright man, easy..” he cooed softly as Vince choked sobs between each heave.
After what felt like forever, the singer slumped back against Nikki's chest, gasping for air with teary eyes- drool dripping down his chin.
Gently, the bassist combed through Vince's hair with his fingers, a motion that strangely soothed him. The dizziness hadn't left, but he could breathe a bit better, which was something.
A moment passed, and Vince moreso felt Nikki when spoke. “Alright..?” Though his tone was calm, his voice shook slightly. Vince nodded in response, still breathing heavily. He didn't dare speak, knowing his voice would fail him for certain.
He felt his bassist’s arms slip under his legs, hoisting him up. “I'll get you some water,” Gently, he set Vince down on his bed and Vince finally got a look at his face. Though, he really wish he hadn't. He'd never seen such a haunted expression on his friends face before.
Nikki turned and left, leaving Vince alone to collect himself.
The effects of the pills still hadn't worn off, the dizziness was still there, so was the nausea, but the pain somewhat subsided and he could breathe. He could think.
How could he have been so stupid? He knew better than to attempt something like this. Now he'd woken Nikki, made him drive all the way over and subjected him to such horrible fucking sight. He'd nearly killed himself. He didn't even write a note. He was Mötley Crüe's fucking frontman, he had a wife and kids for christ sake- what was he thinking? His parents- oh they would've been devastated-
His thoughts were cut short by the feeling of his bed dipping. He looked up to see that Nikki had returned and was holding out a glass of water to him. Vince greatfully took it, shaking as he brought it to his lips and gulpped it down.
Nikki watched as he did so, eyes not leaving him once.
After a moment of watching him drink, he broke the silence. “So.., do you wanna explain what all this was about?” Though the wording was blunt, his tone was far from it. In fact, Vince had never heard Nikki sound so gentle. It both comforted him and irked him to be spoken to in such a manner. Like he was made of glass and could shatter any moment.
It wasn't like it was untrue, he felt fragile and tired- physically and emotionall.
Vince merely shook his head, averting his gaze from the bassist. When he still felt Nikki's silent gaze on him, he spoke- voice broken and raspy from throwing his guts up a few minutes prior. “..later, please.”
Nikki nodded, standing up. “Alright, I understand,” instead of walking away like Vince thought he would, Nikki moved to sit right next to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “But we are talking about this. You scared the shit outta me, man.” Vince had never felt more greatful in his life. Compared to him, cold and clammy- Nikki was hot to the touch. He immediately curled up against the bassist, practically clinging to him before he brought himself to respond.
“M'sorry..” It came out as a pathetic whine against Nikki's chest. He wasn't much shorter than Nikki, but Vince felt so small in that moment.
Nikki ran his fingers through Vince's hair once again and hushed him. “None of that man, just get some rest- we'll talk in the morning.”
As Vince slowly drifted off, he heard Nikki's voice sound again; “We all care about you, Vince. A lot.”
.
.
.
“I love you, man.”