The next morning I woke up in Slash's bed, comfortably curled up against his chest, my clothes in a pile beside me- which was very unusual, as they usually ended up scattered everywhere.

I could hear the guys moving around in the other room, so as a precaution, I reached for my shirt, careful not to wake Slash, and pulled it on, laying back in his arms.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, hardly awake.

"Nothing," I mumbled. It was too early to explain, and if I had any intention of going back to sleep, I would stay quiet.

"Oh... okay."

He tucked his face into my neck, holding me close as he fell back asleep, snoring the slightest bit. Every now and then, he'd twitch in his sleep, and his soft hair would brush my cheek, tickling me the slightest bit.

There was muffled conversation throughout the rest of their apartment, and the occasional sound of bottles clinking together as someone threw them into a bag.

"I have never seen any of them clean in all of the time that I've known them," I thought. "Hearing it is just as weird."

"Slash!" one of them screamed.

He stirred, but didn't respond. I knew that worst case scenario, I could think up a lie about why I was in bed with him, so I didn't panic. Why we were cuddling would be a totally different story, but I could say that he kept me safe from a drunk with grabby hands (honestly, he was the drunk with grabby hands, but I didn't mind).

"Slash, come on, dude. Come help," Duff shouted, banging on the door.

"Go away," Slash croaked, pulling me closer and kissing my cheek.

"Slash!"

"What?!" he groaned, releasing me from his arms and rolling onto his back as he rubbed his eyes.

"Come help."

"Help what?" he yelled back, looking at me as he waited for an answer. "What the fuck is he talking about?" he asked quietly.

"I think they're cleaning."

"Fuck that," he said with a chuckle.

"Let's go fucker!" Axl screeched, throwing the door open. "What, er," he began, his eyes widening. "I- hm. I don't want to know," he decided, waving us off as he walked back out.

"Is he pretending to not care, or is he going to tattle to your brother?" Slash asked me quietly.

"See, I get why you'd think I would know the answer to that- I mean, after knowing him since I was a kid and all, but I'm genuinely not sure. I think he's serious."

"I think so, too. Trippy," he mumbled, sliding out of bed. "Let's go make an appearance," he said, waiting for me to pull on some underwear and follow him out.

"Well, well, well, there you are," Duff said to me as I walked down the hall. "You disappeared last night and we wondered where you went. It's a bit odd seeing you come out of Slash's room without any pants on, y'know?"

"Oh, shut up, Duff. Last night there was a very handsy drunk following me around; Slash happened to notice and was keeping me out of trouble," I lied easily.

"Well, good for the knight in shining armor."

"Yeah," I mumbled, noticing Slash's grateful glance out of the corner of my eye.

"Izz! Rae is still here," Duff shouted,

"Where?!"

"Here."

"Where the fuck is h- oh," he paused, finding his answer when he entered the room. "Where are your pants?" he asked, eyeing me.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure," I lied, hesitating slightly.

"Mm-hm, sure," he mumbled skeptically, glaring at Duff, who was standing near me, probably staring at my ass.

"What are you doing?" I asked, turning quickly to look at him. "Hah, I knew it!" I said, seeing his eyes dart back up to my face as he stumbled over his words, his face reddening.

"Perv," Slash chortled from the couch, where he sat trying to light a cigarette. "Piece of shit," he mumbled, frustrated that it wouldn't light.

I walked over, picked a lighter up off of the side table, and held it out to him. He smiled gratefully and lit his cig, breathing the smoke in my face with a sexy, lazy-eyed glance.

"Terrific," Axl shouted angrily, stomping back into the room.

"Shit, what now?" Duff mumbled under his breath.

"What's goin' on, Ax?" Izzy asked, looking over his shoulder with a soft sigh.

"Well, apparently something got fucked up, and the bus will be picking us up on Thursday."

"O...kay?"

"It's supposed to be here Wednesday afternoon. Someone fucked up and it's gonna be late."

"It's not that big of a deal, Drama Queen," I said pointedly.

"Right, neither is the fact that you were sleeping with Slash," he said with a wicked smirk.

"What?!" my brother asked, locking onto Slash and I.

"I slept in his room, oh my god. Fuck off, Axl."

"Why were you in his room?"

"Because, Izzy, th-"

"Some drunk guy was messing with her and Slash let her stay in his room. Leave it alone, Stradlin. You're looking too into it." Duff said. McKagan to the rescue.

"I don't like it. You, keep your nose clean," my brother said pointing to me, "and you," he pointed at Slash, "stay away from her."

"Oh, grow up, Jeff," I snapped, getting up and walking into the kitchen. "Don't you fuckin' tell me what to do. God!" I grumbled under my breath. "I mean, who the hell does he think- oh! Steven... hey," I said, jumping when I noticed him sitting at the kitchen table.

"Mm."

"Stevie? You okay?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled, looking up at me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "What happened last night?"

"Well, Slash and I found you on his bedroom floor at one point. You wouldn't wake up at first and we freaked out, but then you got up and walked off like nothing happened."

"Oh... Why were you in Slash's room?" he asked softly, giving me a knowing glance.

"We were, uh, ditching the crowd," I mumbled. "I had a little pot and we just wanted to get away from the party. Too high energy for us, I guess," I lied with a smile.

"Mm-hm. So," he asked quietly, looking around to make sure we were alone, "How long?"

"How long what?"

"You and Slash."

"What?"

"I've seen the way you two look at each other, plus you both end up with, uh," he cleared his throat, "leopard spots on your neck at the same time."

"I- Steven, that's a really weird thing to suggest."

"Play with me all you want, but I don't believe you. It's safe with me. Anyway, what else happened last night?" he asked, changing the subject, knowing that he had made his point, and that I would say nothing.

"Not much. You were basically dead, then you staggered away. I don't really remember anything else after that."

"Hm. Right," he said, going back to staring blankly at the table.

°°°°°°

"You said he wouldn't remember," I mumbled, laying in Slash's arms at my apartment later that day.

"He doesn't."

"Yes he did," I stressed.

"Honey, that's-"

"Slash, he looked me dead in the eyes and asked how long we've been a thing. I have never seen his eyes so clear."

"I... Well, maybe... I-I got nothin'," he said with a sigh.

"He won't say anything, will he? I mean, what if he gets fucked up and accidentally lets it slip? Oh, what if he tells Izzy because he thinks he already knows?! What i-"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't panic. Relax, okay? I'll talk to him."

"But what if-"

He cut me off by pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Carolina, don't worry about it, okay? It's gonna be alright, I promise," he mumbled, caressing my cheek.

"Being careful around them is like dancing on nails, I swear."

"Not just a bed of nails?"

"Nope. Worse, and much more dangerous."

"Fair enough, I guess," he mumbled, putting an arm behind his head. "What will we tell Izzy?"

"Well, we probably won't tell him that it's been going on for a while," I said with a chuckle.

"That would probably be safe."

"Yeah. You know what I just realized?"

"Hm?"

"Nikki Sixx is the only one that really knows. I mean, we didn't technically tell him, but he's closest to being onto us- well other than Steven."

"Hm... You're right. Weird."

"Hopefully he didn't tell anyone either," I thought to myself.

"Hopefully he hasn't said anything to anyone," Slash said.

"Mind reader," I said with a laugh, squinting at him.

"I'm magical like that."

"Indeed you are," I purred, kissing him.

"Knock, knock!"

My eyes widened as we broke apart, hearing my brother calling out as he entered my apartment.

"Fuck!" I whispered. "What do we do?!"

"I- fuck if I know!" he hissed back.

"Carolina? You here?" Izzy called again.

"Yeah, just a second! I'm just changing real quick," I shouted. "Stay here!" I whispered to Slash as I pushed him over to the open closet.

"Wh-"

"Shh, I'll distract him long enough for you to get out-"

"How?!"

"Fire escape; out of the window behind my bed."

He kissed me one final time as I grabbed a different shirt and switched it with the one I was already wearing, and walked out into the living room.

"Hey, baby sister. What are you up to?"

"Hey, not much. What's up?"

"Nothin'. Just thought that we could hang out or something. You and I never really have time together- like in Indiana. I miss it sometimes, don't you?"

"Of course I do," I mumbled, sitting beside him, my heart beating a mile a minute as I thought about Slash hiding in my closet.

"And we used to talk about stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah," I said nervously.

"You okay?"

"Yeah; I'm just a little anxious today is all. Sorry."

"It's okay, just don't have a heart attack on me," he joked, putting his feet up against my coffee table.

"God, you need new boots," I noted, seeing the all of holes and scuffs on the black shoes.

"Yeah." He smiled tiredly, pushing up the sleeves of his cream colored jacket. "I wanted to talk to you about something that's been kinda bugging me lately," he began.

"O-okay. Go for it."

"I know I can get an honest answer from you, right? I mean, this is a big deal, and I don't want anything bad to happen."

"With what? What's on your mind?" I asked, my nervousness making me almost numb with internal panic.

"It's Steven... he's not doing so good lately," he said quietly.

I was silent for a second, caught off guard by the unexpected topic of our conversation.

"Oh... What's going on?"

"He's," he sighed, "he's in a really bad way right now, Rae, and I can't really talk to the other guys about it. I'm worried about him; we're all up to stupid shit now and then, but we know when to ease off. Steven, on the other hand, is going full throttle down a bad road. I don't know what to do," he said, his voice cracking. "I mean, we're all selfish enough to have a mindset of 'if he can at least play, it's fine,' and I know that's fucked up. It's so wrong, but we don't know what else to do."

"Have you talked to Steven about it?" I asked, knowing that Slash was probably listening from the other room, not daring to leave.

"No, but Slash and Duff have. He can't seem to snap out of it. He's struggling. And Slash... I don't even know what he's doing lately."

I can answer that right now; me.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, wondering about how much he knew.

"He's just... I don't know, distant? He's being kind of sneaky lately, and it's throwing me off. We've all noticed it. When he uses the phone, he's real quiet, or he sits in the other room- or even the bathroom sometimes. He leaves and doesn't say shit. I mean, it's just weird little things that he does sometimes that make me think he's up to something, y'know?"

I nodded, trying to think of genuinely helpful advice to give that wouldn't blow my cover.

"Well, with Steven, you all need to talk about it, and then talk to him. Give him an ultimatum of some kind or something, y'know? Give him some motivation to help him get it together. As for Slash, it just sounds like you guys are being a little paranoid- Duff was talking to me about him, too. I know that you don't realize it, but you get like that sometimes, and honestly, what would he be up to?"

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point. Still, it's just weird."

"Yeah, but we're all weird; that's why we all get along so well," I said with a laugh, almost freezing when I noticed Slash's silhouette and shadow spread on the wall as he climbed out of my window. "Honestly, I think you all need to regroup, if you get what I mean. Just spend some time together- just the five of you. Talk and work on things- not just music stuff, but on your relationships with each other," I suggested.

"Good idea. I guess I'm just worried about everyone's reactions... It's weird to me that you always have good advice for me; I feel like it should be the other way around. I'm older, and I'm pretty sure I have more experience-"

"But I have more common sense," I teased, cutting him off.

"Sure, if that's what you wanna call it," he joked. "Brat."

"Punk."

Fuck I need a cigarette.