Guns N Roses Imagines & Preferences

♡Don't Cry - Duff McKagan/Susan Holmes McKagan♡

This was requested by a friend on my Tumblr. In fact most of the imagines in this book are from my Tumblr. Enjoy <3

Trigger Warning: mention of severe depression, mention of poor mental health, severe lack of hygiene

Y/n lay in bed, unable to gather the motivation to even turn over to turn their alarm clock off. They could hear their two older sisters - Grace and Mae - running back and forth around the house, scrambling to get their things ready for school.

A solid 30 minutes passed before y/n heard Grace and Mae pull out of the driveway in Grace's car, the bass from her stereo vibrating the house.

A moment later y/n door opened, a sliver of light from the hallways illuminating y/n's bed. Susan padded over the y/n, perching on the edge and gently rubbing y/n's back.

"Please don't make me go to school." y/n whimpered, sniffling. Susan sighed, rubbing y/n's back.

"Okay." she said softly. She knew y/n was struggling, and didn't have the heart to push the matter any further.

Y/n turned to lay on their back, looking up at Susan with red eyes and a tear-streaked face. Susan looked down at them softly, clearly worried as she stroked some hair out of y/n's face.

"What do you think has you so worked up?" she whispered, continuing to stroke y/n's cheek.

"I don't know...everything just hurts. Like i'm anxious and sad and I can't find the motivation to do anything and i'm just mad at myself for it."

Susan nodded, knowing how y/n felt. She ran her hand through y/n's hair, noticing how greasy and tangled it was. It was evident that the hour long "showers" y/n was taking consisted of them just standing under the water staring into space.

"Well, how about we get you something to eat and see how you feel from there. Hm?" Susan suggested. Her voice was so soft and sweet and kind.

Y/n nodded, slowly sitting up and rubbing their face roughly. Their hair was tangled and matted a little bit, and they kinda stunk from just a lack of basic hygien.

Susan led y/n downstairs, covering them with a fuzzy blanket when they sat down on the couch. She handed them the remote as she leaned down to kiss their forehead.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked.

Y/n nodded, thinking for a moment before asking for a poptart. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Susan grabbed y/n's poptart before cuddling up beside them on the couch, holding y/n close as they nibbled on their breakfast and watched Bob's Burgers (literally my favorite show omfg).

Despite being in Susan's comforting embrace, y/n just felt numb. Not sad, not happy, not anxious. Just numb. Existing. An object taking up space. They didn't know what would bring them comfort.

Duff came downstairs around 30 minutes later, his hair a bit messy from sleep. He looked at y/n and Susan on the couch, a confused expression on his face as Susan mouthed a silent "later" and waved him away.

The bassist just shrugged and waddled into the kitchen to get himself some coffee. He came back a moment later and plopped down on the other side of y/n, putting his feet up on the coffee table and sipping his coffee.

Duff didn't talk in the morning and he was generally kinda cranky, but his silent presence was comforting enough and that was what y/n cared about.

After y/n finished eating, Susan went to work on washing y/n's bedsheets and doing a load of laundry for them. She was hoping that going to bed in clean, fresh sheets and a fresh set of pajamas would help y/n get back on track. Or at least help them to feel a bit better.

Y/n scooted over to where Duff was sitting, snuggling into his side and sighing. The bassist put his arm around them, holding them close to his warm body as the two of them watched television together.

Susan came back a little bit later, sighing as she plopped down on the other side of y/n and put their feet in her lap, massaging them. Y/n fell asleep sooner or later, wrapped comfortably in Duff's arms with a blanket over them.

They woke up a few hours later, that dull feeling that always came with depression seeping back into their chest. Their head was in Duff's lap, and their calves were being massaged still by Susan. Duff absentmindedly ran his fingers through y/n's hair, his eyes fixated on some history documentary on the television.

Y/n sighed, rolling over to face Duff's stomach and inhaling his scent as they closed their eyes again. Yes, being depressed sucked shit, but having two loving, supportive parents that were patient and kind and willing to help made y/n's struggle with their mental health that much easier.