Starry I think not (terrorcest)

Flight home

Tommy Lee

Heather dragged me to the beach today. It was a lot of fun, and there was some hot hammock sex. But now we're walking back to the hotel. My hand is laced in hers, and her head is resting against me as we stroll back.

"I had a lot of fun." Heather remarks. I smile lovingly at her, reaching my other hand to smooth her hair.

"Me too." I say.

"You know, today was the first day since forever that I haven't heard you talk about Mötley..." Heather starts, and I can feel that she's hinting at something.

"Yeah? And? They're like my family babe."

"Well I just thought that since Mötley is kind of fighting, and my career is going well, maybe you should quit the band..." she suggests.

I stop dead in my tracks. No way in hell. She's gotta be fucking kidding. But she isn't. Her face shows her emotions plain and simple. She's dead serious. I can't really say anything at first, shocked at the notion.

"No. Heather, I won't be boring, I refuse to let that happen. Plus me and Nikki-"

"You're always talking about Nikki! Nikki this and Nikki that. I'm starting to think that you want to marry him instead of me!" She bursts, clearly upset.

"Baby..." I mumble, kicking at the ground. The thing is, it might be the truth. I mean, I love Heather to death, but I love Nikki. Like absolutely love so much that it hurts to be away from him.

Marrying Heather intensified my feelings for Nikki as dumb as it sounds. Realizing that I can't live without him hurts, because he doesn't feel the same. Hell, he'd probably shoot me if I tried to confess my feelings.

We get back to the hotel. A concierge stops me. "Mr. Lee?" He asks.

"Yeah?" I respond, confused.

"Well you had a caller, he couldn't get ahold of you so he called the front desk. Someone claiming to be your 'manager'."

"Oh? Well that happens, whats his name?"

"Doc McGhee."

"Oh fuck, that is my manager! What did he want?"

"He said to get back to California because your friends in bad shape."

My heart rate speeds up. Almost like the rhythm to Red Hot.

"Okay thanks." I say, trying to keep my voice from wavering. My legs feel like jelly. What did the concierge mean by "bad shape".

I know he means Nikki because I begged Doc to go check on him. I'm regretting letting Heather talk me out of taking an emergency flight back home. I don't want my best friend to die. I don't want my love to die.

"Tommy!" Heather calls as I run into the elevator. I don't turn around. Nothing else matters except finding out what happened with Nikki.

The hallways seem incredibly long, stretching for miles. I can barely breathe as I open my door. I reach for the phone shakily, punching in Docs number. The phone rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

God, I had been hoping that he was home, but I didn't know if he was. I'm glad though, because I don't know what I would have done if he wasn't.

"Hello?" He inquires.

"DOC DOC WHAT HAPPENED WHAT HAPPENED TO NIKKI?! IS HE OKAY?! WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHAT HAPPENED?! WHAT HAPPENED?!" The words are spilling out of my mouth like a dam with a crack in the wall.

"Tommy, Tommy kid, calm down. It was a fucking accident."

"WHAT WAS?! DID YOU SHOOT HIM?!"

"What?! No! He was off his ass on drugs and I told him to get his shit together or else I was gonna call you..."

"And?"

"Well I guess I freaked him out. He took off running...and I couldn't stop him. I tried to go after him Tommy."

"Doc, WHAT HAPPENED?!"

He takes a deep sigh, and it almost sounds like he's crying.

"Tommy, he was too high to understand where he was going-"

"DOC!"

"He accidentally ran into oncoming traffic."

"Doc....no..."

"The car didn't see him."

"DOC IS HE OKAY?!!!"

"I don't know."

———-

A/N: I got this idea from a friend, and I thought it would be good, especially to enhance the storyline. It also factors into Nikkis heroin use since heroin is often used as pain medicine. And I drew inspiration from the time Nikki wrapped his car around a pole

So just know, that this part is fictional