TW: mentions of overdose

   DISCLAIMER!! I am not familiar with drugs in the slightest, so I apologize if I get any of this stuff wrong lmfao. I also forgot to do my research beforehand and found out later that a paramedic revived Nikki, but shhh just act like it was a doctor at a hospital cuz that's what I originally wrote LMAOOO

—

Doctors crowded around Nikki's lifeless body, mumbling words to each other as they did every method of revival imaginable. The bassist had overdosed on heroin, much to his girlfriend's hysteria. Those doctors had seen a lot of hysterical patients in their career, but your screams and sobs might have topped their list.

"NIKKI! NIKKI!" you had screamed, Vince holding you back as you attempted to charge blindly at your boyfriend, lifeless in his gurney. It was as if you thought he would hear you. But, how could he? He was on the verge of death, and everyone seemed to know that but you.

Vince quietly sobbed as he had you wrapped up in his arms. He watched the doctors frantically wheel his friend away, and he whispered to you, "It's okay. Let them work. He's gonna be okay."

But, in reality, he had an inkling Nikki wasn't going to be okay. And neither would he, nor Tommy, nor Mick.

Nor you.

Oh, God, especially you. The way you desperately fought to escape Vince's grip, screaming the name of your soon-to-be legally dead boyfriend. . . It made Vince's stomach turn. How would she even go on? he thought, trying his best to give you a comforting squeeze.

Presently, the doctors were trying to give Nikki electric shocks to get his heart going, but he wasn't responding. They were beginning to panic; they so desperately wanted to have good news for you, but they were doubting that this was even possible.

That's when Nikki gained consciousness. He sat up, feeling lighter than he ever had. Holy shit, I'm alive! he thought happily, looking around with a big smile.

But then, his eyes fell on his own body, laying down, getting shock after shock. His body jolted, but nothing other than that happened. The flatline that had been displayed for around a minute now did not change, and that's when Nikki realized:

He was fucking dead.

(Y/N), he immediately thought, eyes transfixed on his limp body as he hopped to his feet. You can't fucking die, you asshole. You have to come home to (Y/N). You have to. Whatever bullshit afterlife you're in right now. . .it's nothing without her.

With the false knowledge of movies, Nikki attempted to dive toward his own body, hoping that his spirit would possess his body, jolting it back to life.

But, that didn't happen. Instead, he was sitting on top of himself, hands on his chest. He stared at himself, mouth agape slightly. What the fuck have I become? he thought to himself as he took in his appearance.

He didn't look like himself. At least, he hoped he didn't. He really hoped that you didn't see him like this often.

   He was pale. So pale. He looked ghostly, and he almost laughed at the irony, since he essentially was a ghost. Or something similar, at least.

   Nikki's humor vanished as he saw that his eyes were wide open and bloodshot, and that his mouth was gaped open in a silent scream. God, he looked awful.

   He made a vow to himself then. If he ever made it through this, if the doctors somehow managed to revive his sorry ass, he would drop heroin completely. He owed himself that much, but, more importantly, he owed you that much. He couldn't stand the thought that his indulgences were what caused you to lose someone you loved so much.

   Speaking of the doctors, he noticed that they weren't shocking his chest anymore; his hands were firmly placed against his chest, but nothing else.

   Nikki looked over his ghostly shoulder and saw a doctor coming over with two syringes filled with some sort of liquid.

   Adrenaline, he thought, leaping off of his body again. Movies had already failed him once; he didn't need to take a chance of feeling the doctors' hands grabbing him uncomfortably. Who knew if he would actually phase through them or not?

   Right as the doctor was about to inject the liquid, Nikki saw a bright light out of the corner of his eye.

   He glanced at it, curious. And then, it sunk in.

   That is the fucking afterlife.

   He had never thought about religion much, so the very notion that what was staring him in the face could be Heaven was both relieving and terrifying.

   He began to feel a pull to that light, but tried to refrain as best he could. There's still hope, he thought, struggling against the holy temptation. You could still live.

   The doctor administered the first shot.

   Nikki watched hopefully, expecting some sort of possession to occur; maybe his spirit diving into his actual body like he had originally planned to do.

   But, nothing happened, and the flatline was still staring him in the face, taunting him.

   Fuck, he thought, tears welling up in his eyes. The fact that this was really it, the end of the line, made him feel so awful. How would you react? He couldn't predict the future, but he didn't need to be able to in order to tell that you would not do well.

   Hell, if I survive, she'll probably kill me herself, he thought humorlessly, subconsciously drifting toward the light. He began to feel less and less connected to his actual body, and more and more independent. At peace, but also in agony.

   But then, the second shot was administered.

   And then, the unthinkable happened:

   Nikki, actual Nikki, not ghost Nikki, woke up.

   There was no whoosh of his spirit possessing himself, there was no transition time, nothing like that. He just simply was awake, and on the gurney.

   He gulped air into his lungs, extra aware of his heart thudding in his chest. He was stoked about being alive, but the first thing that came out of his mouth before losing consciousness again was your name.

   A hoarse, pained cry of your name.

***

   Somehow, Nikki's heart continued to pump throughout his loss of consciousness. He had no idea what the doctors had done, but somehow, after a few days, he was feeling better. Almost back to normal.

   And now, visitors were finally allowed, and he was waiting to see you. Waiting to hear the onslaught of cuss words that he could so vividly picture you saying.

   When you finally arrived, he sighed at how beautiful you were. As he stared at you, and you stared back, he realized he had taken you for granted. Hell, he had taken everything for granted. He was not invincible, and fame did not make him so. He wished he would have learned that lesson before his very being was almost ripped from him.

You both stared at each other for a while, and Nikki smiled at you, opening his arms. "Come here, baby."

You smiled back, relieved tears running down your face. You dashed to your beloved and bent down, wrapping your arms around him.

He hugged back, inhaling your scent and squeezing you tight. Somehow, after almost fucking dying, every sense was magnified. Not so much that they felt stronger, but that he saw more value in the little things. Meaning that he noticed them more, and realized that he had deeply taken for granted the feeling of you in his arms.

"I thought I lost you," you whispered against him, afraid to let go. If you let go, maybe a repeat of this scenario could happen.

"I know," he whispered back, cradling your head in his hand. Tears of his own began trickling down his face. "Me, too."

"Nikki—"

"Wait, before you say anything, I need to say something first." He lightly pushed you off of him, subsequently grabbing your shoulders and staring at you with the utmost sincerity. "I was so fucking irresponsible. I put heroin in my veins without even thinking about it. Countless times, I did that. But this time, it came to bite me in the ass."

He smiled a little before continuing, wiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. "And I can't explain to you how awful I feel. I was so selfish. I almost left you alone, all because of my selfishness."

He squeezed your shoulders, his gaze piercing. "So, I need to make a promise to you right now. I will kick heroin. I fucking will. I know you've heard this song and dance before, but I really mean it this time. Almost dying. . .it really makes you realize that a few hours of a nice high are nothing compared to your life. Nothing compared to leaving the love of your life alone, in agony. I'm so sorry for doing this to you, (Y/N)."

You smiled weakly, wiping your tears with the heel of your hand. "You really mean it?"

"I do."

"That's awesome, Nik, but I didn't come in here looking for an apology, or a promise, or whatever. I know heroin can be a son of a bitch. It gets you hooked. I get it." You reached out and began to stroke his hand, a hospital bracelet circling the flesh that had (thankfully) gotten most of its color back.

"You almost died. Actually, you did die. For two whole minutes." Another weak smile from you. "I'm not gonna barge in here and expect an apology or a promise to quit from someone who recently got revived. I'm just not gonna do that. We'll tackle that when you're out of here. Right now, I just want to see you. Look at you, you know? You're alive, and that's all we should be worrying about right now. Let's just fucking hang out. Talk about something else."

Your attitude regarding this made Nikki beam. "You're so awesome," he remarked, almost breathless at how cool you were being. He knew that it was not easy. It's been reiterated many times, but he almost left you forever. Most women would be screaming at him, threatening him, even. "I love you, (Y/N) (L/N)."

"And I love you, Nikki Sixx." You began to turn away to sit down on the chair by Nikki's bed, but he got your attention again by rapidly snapping at you.

You turned to face him again, and he patted the covers of his bed, smiling slyly.

You rolled your eyes and obeyed his orders, sitting on his bed, then subsequently laying down with him. You made your body real small so that you could fit, tucking your legs in and resting your head on his chest.

Nikki exhaled, wrapping an arm around you. "I missed this."

It had only been around four days since you two got to cuddle, but it was true. The feeling of your comparably small body pressed up against his, and just the general closeness of the two of you was such an amazing feeling for the both of you. Yet another thing he took for granted.

"Me, too." You looked up at him, and smiled. "How is it that you were legally dead for two minutes, and somehow, four days later, you still look sexy?"

He smirked slyly in response. "Guess I'm just that awesome," he said cheekily, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

You hummed, kissing him back. You felt warm and fuzzy inside as your hands came to rest on his chest. When you had been at home, without him, it was agony. And now, you were here, feeling happier than you probably ever had, despite the two of you just kissing.

Similar to how Nikki felt, this whole ordeal really put the little things into perspective.

Then, as if on cue, a huge commotion in the hallway could be heard.

Then, a moment later, Vince and Tommy came barreling into the room, Mick strolling along casually behind them.

You and Nikki didn't pay them any mind; this moment was too valuable to waste on dumbasses like them.

"EW!" Tommy shrieked, hiding behind Mick, who rolled his eyes and shoved Tommy back in view of you both.

"Get a room!" Vince shouted.

You pulled apart and huffed; they always had to ruin the moment. "We have one. Now get out of it."

"Damn, (Y/N)'s feeling sassy today," Vince remarked, walking up to the bed and ruffling Nikki's hair. His playfulness softened for a minute in a sincere smile. "Glad to have you back, Nik."

"Yeah, me too," Tommy added, also walking to the bed and slapping Nikki's arm in a brotherly way. He smiled stupidly as he joked, "Of course, you won't be getting paid for your time off."

"The motherfucker died, man! Give him a break!" Mick laughed, playfully pushing the drummer.

Nikki chuckled, and he heard his friends, but he wasn't really dwelling on what they were saying much. His eyes were too busy focusing on you, all small and curled up against him.

Then, a thought flitted into his mind:

Maybe it was you that had managed to kickstart his heart.

Maybe the very thought of leaving you alone was enough to jolt him back to life. It sounded like a movie cliche, and he was aware of that, but the feelings he got when he was around you. . . They were so powerful that it couldn't help but feel possible. He was practically there, drifting toward the afterlife like nobody's business.

And then, he wasn't.

He was awake, yelling for you.

He lightly shook his head to himself with another chuckle. That could be played off as him responding to what his friends were yapping about, but in actuality, it was him dismissing his cheesy thought.

Yeah, right, Nik. That makes sense, he thought.

But still, he still had a gut feeling that maybe that was what had happened.

I need to write a song about this, he thought, holding you tighter.

—

Hello! Welcome to my first imagine book! I really hope y'all enjoyed this imagine. A fair warning tho that updates may be slow because I'm actively working on another story ("Keeping It Together • Sebastian Bach"), and that is my main priority at this time. However, I'm very passionate about all sorts of different rockstars so count on new imagines at least every week! Any requests, feel free to drop 'em! Ily!!