I have spells all the time, at least twice a day.
Spells I call them, because I cannot control them. One minute I can be conscious, thinking and breathing in the present day, and the next I'll be consumed by my thoughts of Axl. The terrible wound he left by abandoning me is fresh again, I can still hear his words lingering in the air, I can feel his skin beneath my fingertips.
Usually, I realize it's just a dream within a few minutes. I blink a few times, Axl goes away, and everything is back to normal again.
So when I saw Axl Rose standing there, maybe a hundred feet from me, I closed my eyes. I opened them, and he was still there, so I closed them again. Surely he would disappear, and this cold feeling in my gut would go with him.
That definitely didn't happen.
My mouth was dry and sticky as I forced myself to study him, dressed simply in a black t-shirt and pants, a bandana, a baseball cap.
"Callie, get a hold of yourself," I whispered as the man who was frighteningly resemblant to Axl began to move in my direction.
"Oh god," I muttered. Adrenaline pushed through my veins; should I run, or should I stay and face this man?
He was growing closer, close enough for me to make out his facial features, close enough for me to know that this was none other than Axl.
He was twenty feet away, then ten, but before he could reach me Nina came flying out of nowhere and attached herself directly to his side.
Axl's facial expression would've been funny if I hadn't been thinking about chewing Nina's head off for touching him. Axl was probably thinking the same thing. He turned up his nose and held his arms away from his body, staring down at her with disgust.
"Oh my Lord, Axl Rose!? I may be half drunk, but I would always recognize that face!"
"Get the fuck off of me," he snapped, and I nearly fainted at the sound of his voice. Such a smooth baritone, and it was real. It wasn't a spell, and he was standing right in front of me. I somehow knew that this had to be some kind of cruel dream, and so I didn't get my hopes up.
He plucked Nina off of his body the way one would pluck a the sticker off of an apple.
She whined a little bit and took a tentative step toward him again, but I could tell he was in no mood.
"Oh come on Axl, don't be like that! I... I love you, and-"
"Nina," I said, and he seemed to jolt a little at the sound of my voice, or so I hoped.
"That's not Axl Rose, you must still be drunk or something, that's just a student."
Nina scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Nice try Callie, just because you constantly have these weird fantasies about Axl doesn't mean you can-"
I cleared my throat loudly, my cheeks were heating with embarassment. I jumped to Nina's side and steered her away from him by the shoulders, back down the path that lead toward her dorm room.
"You're delusional Nina, and very, very hung over. Just um... keep walking that way, you'll hit the dorms eventually."
"B-but-"
"I'll be there in a minute, I'm just gonna go get you another iced latte."
Luckily she kept stumbling down the path, already having forgotten about Axl.
My breath caught in my throat as I turned around again. I faced the man who I'd dreamed about for more than a year, who I presumed to be dead, who I knew I would never see again.
But he was there, and he was breathing, and he was staring at me with an expression of deep interest. I opened my mouth, but I had no idea what to say to him. 'Hey, I periodically dream about having sex with you' didn't seem to be an appropriate place to start.
"Calliope." I shivered the minute I heard my name, and it was a high like no other.
"Axl," I said in response, and to say his name out loud only added to the sense of euphoria.
He didn't smile at me, he didn't make an attempt to touch me. I was slightly disappointed by this, but truthfully I didn't care. He was here, he'd found me again.
"Hi," I almost laughed, and it took all of me not to grin up at him like an idiot.
"Nice shirt," he grunted, and I allowed myself a small smile. That completely disappeared when I looked down and noticed a stain right on Vince Neil's face, a stain that only spread when I tried to rub it off.
"Um... thanks." I said quietly. His compliment must've been sarcasm.
"Let's cut to the fucking chase here," he said, slapping a hand back to rub at his neck.
My eyebrows dipped in confusion. "What?"
"I ain't here for a lovey-dovey reunion, not to say 'I'm sorry,' and I'm not here on RUG business."
My heart fell through the soles of my feet, and I could no longer bring myself to look at him. He wasn't Axl, he was the hardened leader of a group of domestic terrorists. He wasn't being soft and sweet like I knew he could be, he was quite the opposite.
"So why are you here then?" I muttered, and nearly repeated the phrase in a louder voice.
His gaze was almost hateful, and I didn't know why. Were we back to square one, with the whole 'I hate you, I love you' act?
"I know where your old man is."
And that's when I stopped breathing. I swayed precariously, my vision was blurring. My Jess, who I hadn't laid eyes on since I was little more than a girl, my Jess, who accomplished things like no other man of color could, my Jess, who I presumed to have been murdered brutally eleven years ago.
"W-what?" I breathed, my voice was little more than a squeak.
"I know where your old man is, and I'm gonna take you to him." With that, he turned on his heel and began walking in the opposite direction. I didn't know if he wanted me to follow or not but I did anyway, speedwalking to keep up with his brisk pace.
"B-but why? Axl, hold on a second! Why would you do that, don't you hate him?"
He sighed, and said nothing.
"Axl, please! You have to tell me something, what's going on! How did you know where to find me, where have you been for the past year? Are you mad at me or something? Please, please give me something to work with here! I've been in the dark for so long!"
I grabbed onto his arm gently and he stopped cold. I shrunk back a little as his head turned ever so slowly, and his unreadable eyes flicked back and forth between my face and my hand on his arm.
I withdrew it slowly and uttered a brief apology, to which he didn't reply.
He took a deep breath. "I'm taking you to your old man 'cause... I feel like I owe it to you, after everything that happened with us. I've been thinking on it for the longest time, and if I don't now I never will. I'll take you to him and then I'm gone, I'm out of your fucking hair. That's all you need to know."
I wanted to tell him that I didn't want him out of my hair, he'd just gotten into it and all I wanted was for him to stay. It was clear that he didn't want to, and that hurt.
He quickly realized I had no response to offer, so he kept walking and I trailed behind.
I smiled a little bit at the sight of his big black pickup truck, still shining in the afternoon light without a speck of rust. I remembered riding around with him in that truck, kissing him in that truck. How times changed.
"Where are we going?" I asked as he went around to the driver's side, half-expecting him not to answer.
"My place to pick up some stuff, then we're gonna catch a plane."
I stopped halfway into the cab of the truck. "Wait, Jess- my dad... isn't here?"
His eyes narrowed in annoyance, "If he were here would I be telling you that we're taking a plane?"
The sting of his words was all too familiar as I sat down and buckled my seatbelt. I folded my hands primly and kept my eyes to myself, I didn't wanna risk irritating him even further.
The tension eased a little bit as we rode in silence, nothing but the soft crackle of the radio, caught between two stations.
I expected him to take us to the same old apartment that he used to have, but he didn't. He went deeper into the more residential section of downtown D.C, to a two-story condo that had to have cost him a million at the least.
That meant he had to have been in the city for a least a week or two, and he waited that long before contacting me.
He shut off the truck and I followed him inside. It was like he'd replicated his old apartment inside of the condo, with all the black paint, the records, the beer cans.
He pointed to the table in the front room. "Sit there." He said gruffly, I did as he said without question. He went into another room, leaving me alone to take in his new place.
I cringed at the sight of women's underwear on the floor, a blue lace thong. My heart fell even more.
Curiosity began to overtake me, I heard the sounds of rustling and bumping coming from the room he was in and figured he was too busy to stop me from taking a look around. I stood noiselessly and wandered down the hallway past the room he was in, peering through each doorway as I went.
The carpet was soft beneath my feet, the walls were so perfectly painted. None of the rooms were particularly interesting- not until I reached the only closed door in the entire hall.
I expected it to be locked, but when I twisted, the knob popped open with ease.
"Oh, wow," I breathed, taking in the sight of literally hundreds of high-resolution photographs plastered onto the walls, in such a beautifully intricate design. It seemed to have the layout of a normal bedroom apart from the photos, the comforter on the bed suggested that someone had slept in there recently.
With one last look over my shoulder I crept into the room, careful not to make any sound.
There were pictures of him on the wall, some whose time stamps dated back to the 70s, others that had to have been taken just the year before. I smiled at pictures of Axl and Izzy as little boys, riding around on matching trikes. I saw picture after picture, until I came across one of Axl and a dark-haired girl with bright eyes. They had to have been high school age, the way the girl was nestled into him so deeply.
I then realized there were no pictures of Axl and I on the wall, even though some of them dated back to the time that we would've been together.
"What the hell are you doing back here?" Axl snapped.
I spun around to find him glowering at me from the doorway, but I had nothing to say.
"I... uh... I'm sorry," I whispered, expecting him to commence with yelling, or some type of reprimandment. Only he said nothing, motioning with his hand for me to follow him out of the room.
"Come on, we've gotta get to the airport," he said sharply. I followed after him shamefully, and not another word was said until we were on the plane.
****
His breathing sounded louder than a steam engine, when isolated within the confines of an airplane. We were alone in our first-class row of seats, he'd bought a third ticket just to ensure that no one would sit next to us.
After the plane took off and were were safely in the air, I allowed myself to relax just a little bit. I was extremely anxious in the airport, weaving through crowds of people while trying to keep up with his impossible pace. He'd been extremely short with me the entire time, I don't think he appreciated my snooping around in his photo room.
But then I got the sensation that he was staring at me. I ignored it at first, but the feeling became so unbearable I knew I had to look back. But what if it was my mind playing tricks on me and he wasn't, and then I looked stupid for randomly glancing at him?
Before I could choose a course of action his hand rose, it nearly landed on top of mine which happened to be on the shared arm rest between us.
Fast as lightning, I placed my hand in my lap. "I'm sorry, was I taking up the whole arm rest?"
When I met his eyes it was extremely obvious that he had been staring at me, which added to the general discomfort of the moment. He didn't place his hand on the arm rest, instead it hung limply in the hair, without purpose.
"What is it?" I asked gently, fully aware of the fact that he could strike me down for asking such a question. I asked any way.
"Your hair," he whispered. "It got even longer."
My cheeks burned as I looked down at my mess of curls, which at the time tumbled down to my tailbone in length. "Oh," I flushed, breaking eye contact with him. "It did."
Your hair is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Apart from your eyes.
He turned his head and looked out the window. I considered deeply the look in his eyes when he'd mentioned my hair, it was a curious look, a soft glance. It was like the old Axl had begun to break through, and I went and ruined it with my awkwardness.
I closed my eyes and tried to tell myself to lighten up, and that I wasn't there to impress him, but that was a bold-faced lie.
I didn't know I'd fallen asleep until I felt a rough hand shaking me awake, and the jolt of the plane's wheels screeching to a halt on the tarmac.
"Calliope, wake up. We've landed."
I sat up straight as a board as the plane made it's way back to the main airport building, and we stood and began to file off of the aircraft with the rest of the passengers.
"What now?" I asked after we'd gotten our bags. He didn't respond, instead he lead me out of the airport and down onto the city streets, which were oddly slanted, hilly, and filled with cars.
"Wow, it's like Full House out here," I whispered, and he gave a short chuckle.
"That's because we're in San Fransico." His voice was dripping with amusement, but he quickly sobered and returned to irritated taciturnity. I sighed, my legs were beginning to tire. My arms were sore from carrying my luggage, and he didn't seem to have the desire to help me with that.
We fought the San Fransico street crowds, our breath fogging in the night, until we reached the beach, decked out with a dock and several boats. I grinned at the sound of the water lapping at the shore, such a gentle and sweet sound I hadn't heard since we went to Los Angeles months before.
We were walking along the creaky wooden dock toward the boats when I heard a distant barking noise, clapping my hand against his arm. "What was that noise?"
"A sea lion," Axl said drily, examining the row of boats that were tied up. All but two were chained and locked, and he chose the bigger of the two to board.
"A sea lion," I marveled, following him up onto the stolen boat mindlessly. Did I have the slightest clue the crime we were comitting? No, and even if I had I wouldn't have cared. As time passed I'd become increasingly enamoured with the thought of my seeing Jess again, I never thought to question Axl's motives or come up with a back up plan if things went wrong.
Somehow Axl got the boat started and began to steer us out to sea.
The moon was a bright disc in the sky, providing just enough light to make out Axl's concentrated features as we made our way.
I leaned over the side of the boat and stared down into the glittering waters. I wanted to touch them so I leaned over the railing, only to lose my footing and almost slip over the side.
"Woah!" I squealed as Axl grabbed a handful of my t-shirt to keep me from going over.
"Careful," he snapped, and pointed to the space beside him. "Stand right there and try not to die."
"Sorry." I said quietly, but he didn't like that either.
"Stop apologizing for everything!"
"Sor-" I clamped my mouth shut and stood where he told me to. Every so often his arm would rub against mine, and every time his body touched mine I had heart fluctuations.
Something was approaching in the distance, like a rock plastered against the horizon line. As we got closer, I could see that it wasn't a rock but an island, with a large brick building on the south end.
"Where are we?" I yelled over the boat's motor, to which he replied, "Alcatraz."
Instantly, I was confused. Alcatraz wasn't a functioning prison anymore, and it hadn't been for a long time. I knew all the book knowledge there was to know about the place, the history, Al Capone- but why would my Jess be here?
He shut off the boat's engine and let the waves push us into the shore, probably so that no one would hear us approaching.
We'd parked with the boat facing the wrong direction, so the only way off was to hop over the side without the aid of steps or a ramp. Axl did this with ease, mounting the side rail of the boat like a fence before dropping down to the beach below.
I peered after him in the dark. He crossed his arms impatiently. "Come on Calliope, I don't have all fucking day!"
I wanted to tell him it was the dead of night, but I didn't. I slid over the railing before I sat on it, shaking my head emphatically.
"Uh-uh, no way! That's at least seven feet down, I am not gonna break my legs playing 'prison break' with you."
He snorted and held his arms out, beckoning me to come down. "I'll catch you."
I squinted down at him suspiciously. "Really?"
"Yes! Hurry the fuck up."
"Okay, okay," I groaned. Screwing my eyes shut I dropped down to the ground below, nearly squealing when I felt two firm hands on my waist.
I crashed into Axl as I made my not-so-smooth landing. I had to throw my arms around his neck to prevent myself from falling face first in the sand. What followed that was an awkward few seconds in which he had his arms around my waist and mine were coiled around his neck, and it was almost perfect with the moonlight pouring over our shoulders.
I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks, I could smell his cologne smell, mixed with the saltiness hanging in the air.
"Sorry," I whispered, forcing myself to meet his gaze in the dark. I thought maybe he was thinking what I was thinking, about the moonlight and the physical contact.
But then he spotted something in the distance, a thick beam of light that was headed toward us at an impossible speed.
"Fuck, we have to go!" he hissed, grabbing my hand and beginning to sprint up the beach. We dove into a shaded crevice before the light could touch us, covered with a thin layer of sand and sweat.
"What was that?"
"Search lights," he quickly explained, and began to creep along the side of the old brick building. I followed after him quietly. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration, he seemed to be counting his paces.
We approached the end of the beach. The brick building jutted out like a peninsula over the water. Emptying into that water was a continuous stream of sewage, which came from a pipe covered by a large metal grate. The pipe came to Axl's shoulder, large enough for the both of us to crawl through.
Axl pulled on the metal grate and it screeched loudly. Another pull and the grate slipped through his fingers into the ocean below.
"Oh god," I muttered, pinching my nostrils shut as Axl took one step into the pipe.
"Do you wanna find your old man or not?" he snapped, but I could tell from his facial expression that he knew the smell was unbearable too.
"Yes," I groaned, and followed him into the dank-smelling pipe, shivering with cold and the knowledge that I was wading through human waste.
Forty-eight hours beforehand I would've never guessed that within the next few days I'd be roto-rooting pipes with Axl. If I had known, I definitely would've come anyway.
It was pitch black for the longest time, and I wondered how in the hell Axl could've known where we were going.
Eventually I spotted beams of light up ahead, which had to be our destination. The light was shining into the pipes through another metal grate, which lead to the inside of the building.
He stopped abruptly and I slammed into his back, which was not only painful but caused some of the 'liquids' beneath our feet to splash up onto the back of his pants.
He let out a disgusted grunt, even though I couldn't see him I knew he was glaring at me.
"My bad," I whispered, but he had already busied himself in silently removing the metal grate.
"Follow me," he said gruffly before pulling himself through the narrow hole he'd created. I watched the soles of his boots as he emerged on the other side, before offering a hand down to me.
I grabbed onto him and he pulled me the rest of the way. I took in as much fresh air as I could hold, sprawled out on the ground beside the sewer entrance.
We were in the basement of the building, that much was clear. It was like being enclosed in a concrete box, the air smelled like clothes that had been left in the washing machine for far too long and there was hardly any light.
"There's a service elevator that way," Axl told me, "we'll hop on that and take it to the top floor. Your dad will be in one of the cells there, but I'm telling you now... you're not gonna have much time."
I was exhausted. I wanted to know how he could possibly know these things, but I hardly had the strength to stand.
The service elevator was extremely old, the doors had to be closed manually, and the direction of the elevator was controlled by a rusty old crank. Axl (with much difficulty) maneuvered us up to the top floor, which was a stark contrast from the basement.
The amount of white paint that cloaked the impossibly long hallway ahead of us made my eyes sting, I'd never seen anything so white. The doors were white, the tiles were white, the guards patrolling the halls were decked out in white.
"How are we supposed to get past them?"
"Easy."
When the coast was clear, Axl pulled me out of the elevator by the hand, and turned the crank until it was set to go back to the basement. And then he let it drop.
There was a terrible crash about ten seconds later, before Axl pulled me around a corner and pressed me into his chest. I tried to ask what the hell he was doing, but he clamped his hand over my mouth.
Down the hall, the guards were yelling. "All personel to the lower level! Emergency on the lower level!"
Eventually their voices faded into whiteness, and Axl let me go.
"That should buy you about thirty minutes."
I caught my breath and followed him down the white hallway. He was counting our steps again, until he stopped outside a white door labeled 'T-116.'
He turned to me with seriousness clinging to every part of his face, and took a deep breath.
"Your dad is in this room." With that, he turned to the small keypad beside the door and punched in a code. There was a metallic clicking sound, and the door popped open just a little bit.
"I'll warn you with two knocks on the door when it's time to leave. Got it?"
I could hardly breathe as I pulled the door open, and stepped into the room that held all my greatest desires.
~fin~