Pairing: The Dirt! Tommy Lee x Reader
Description: Imagine where Tommy’s girlfriend develops a bad heroin addiction along with Nikki and she gets a serious wake up call after his OD?
Warning: Mentions of drug use
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You watched as Tommy grabbed the needle from your fingers, throwing it angrily into the trash. Your mouth dropped and your face heated, eyes darkening. Tommy knew better than to pick a fight with you when you were in the middle of getting high and still after five years together, he continued to push your buttons.
“Do you know how much that shit costs?” Jumping off the bed was a bad decision. Your arms pushed against the bedroom wall for support even though you wanted to tackle Tommy to the floor.
“Do you think I care?” Tommy retorted, shaking his head. Just because he was in rehab didn’t mean you had to clean up your actions. Hell, you didn’t even have a problem. You could stop when you wanted. Problem was, you never wanted to stop. The high was too good. You’d never felt anything like it.
“Stop trying to control me.”
“Goddamn it, Y/N, I’m trying to help you!” Tommy’s eyes clouded with tears. You were too high to care. “You’re just as bad as Nikki. Every goddamn night I watch you two shoot up. You are slowly killing yourself, Y/N. You talk about getting married and having a family, but will you even be around in a month to experience all of that?”
“Shut the fuck up and get out.” A scowl formed on your face as Tommy crossed the line. “May I remind you that not even two months ago you were snorting coke like your life depended on it?”
Shaking his head, Tommy shoved his fists in his pockets. “Yeah, and I was tired of destroying myself. When the hell are you going to wake up?”
You were ready for a fight, but the sound of the television crackling in the background grabbed your attention, Tommy’s too.
“…Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx has died in Hollywood this evening of an apparent drug overdose.”
Tommy’s neck snapped over to where the TV hung on the wall. A strangled cry bounced off the walls of the hotel room before he crumpled to the floor.
Motionless, you stared at the television as Nikki’s picture filled the screen. Instantly you felt tears wet your cheeks. Instead of wiping them away, you opted to comfort Tommy first, but as you placed a shaking hand on his shoulder, he pushed it away and stood up, stumbling.
“He’s dead,” Tommy whispered, before suddenly fisting his hair. “He’s fucking gone.”
Lip trembling, you reached toward him. “Tommy–.”
“No!” He shouted, pointing a finger. “Don’t you dare say one word.”
“An overdose,” Tommy panted, digging his nails into his scalp. He was two seconds from losing his mind. Nikki Sixx, his best friend. Gone. “A fucking overdose.”
“He shouldn’t have taken so much.” Your voice was as quiet as a mouse, but somehow Tommy had still picked up on your words, and he was fuming.
“He shouldn’t have taken any at all!” His voice echoed throughout the room. “And neither should you! He’s dead, Y/N! Gone! And who the fuck knows, you could be next. And if you think I’m staying around to watch you slowly kill yourself, you’re dead wrong.”
And the only thing that followed Tommy out of the room was the shattering sound of a flower vase being thrown at the door.
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Tommy wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, but his mind wandered back to you. After receiving the news that Nikki had been revived in the ambulance, he sped to the hospital and cried in his best friend’s lap. After making Nikki promise that he’d go to rehab, Tommy hopped in his car and drove to the one other person that needed to hear the same thing.
Pushing open the door, he was surprised to see you in sweats and a hoodie, wandering around the hotel room with a trash bag dragging along the floor. Wetness coated your cheeks as you bent down on the floor, picked up a shard of glass, and disposed of it in the bag. He then watched as you trudged to the bedroom side table, opened the drawer, collected many unused needles, and discarded them as well.
“Baby? What are you doing?”
Sniffling, you tied the trash bag and heaved it over to the front door before sliding down the wall, burying your face in your hands. Tommy joined you on the ground. God, he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his lap, but he knew you needed space.
“Nikki’s alive,” he whispered.
“Two adrenaline shots to the heart,” Tommy answered, toying with his fingers. “He’s um…going to rehab.”
Nodding, you buried your head back into your arms. Sitting next to Tommy, all you felt was shame. You had cleaned the hotel room free of needles and glass, and still you were in pain. “All I could think about was that it could have been me.” You were sobbing loudly now, tears wetting the sweatshirt. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Tommy. I am done letting heroin control me. It’s turning me into someone I’m not, someone I hate. I need to fix this.”
Fuck giving you space. Tommy pulled you into his chest, and the sobs came faster, tears flowed harder. “We’re going to get you help, my girl. I will be right by your side, you know that, right?”
Hiccupping, you placed a hand on Tommy’s cheek. “I don’t deserve you, Tommy. You should get out while you can.”
Now that stung. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially not now. You need me. Let me be here for you.”
You didn’t have the heart to push him away. He was right. You did need him. Now more than ever.
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