"How's your knee?" my brother asked, taking the ice pack from his cheek and handing it to me.

"It hurts pretty bad," I mumbled, doing my best not to get choked up from the pain.

"Do you think you broke anything?" he asked as he sat beside me.

"I don't know... I've never broken any bones, so I wouldn't really know what it feels like."

"Yes, you would," Steven assured me, randomly sticking his head in the room as he walked by. I shook my head, realizing that anyone could be eavesdropping on our conversation at any time, which was a fairly common happening.

"He's right; he's broken a few bones before."

"How are you after that whole," I thought for a moment, realizing that 'fight' wasn't really the best word for it, "soundcheck brawl?"

"I'm fine. Most of us just have bruises. I mean, like, Duff's got a busted lip and Stevie split a knuckle or two, but we're fine. You're the only one that matters."

"Oh yeah, because Nikki and the rest of the guys in the Crüe would love it if you guys couldn't play or something," I said sarcastically, laughing at his protective tunnel vision.

"We're guys; we can handle it because we always do stupid shit. I'm sure they've already gotten an earful from Axl."

"Probably... You know, I don't get him."

"What do you mean?"

"He pretty much treated me like shit when ever we were together, but every time something happens, it seems like he's the first one to react- well, when you're not around."

"I think it's because we all grew up together; you're probably like a sister to him, too. It just makes sense like that. He cares, but it's a different kind of caring."

"He's got a funny way of showing it."

Minutes ticked by before the sound of Duff and Steven goofing around in the hall interrupted the growing silence between my brother and I.

"I kind of feel... numb," I randomly stated, staring blankly at the carpet.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, I can feel my knee- which feels like it's on fire, but everything else is completely numb. I feel like rest of the pain hasn't really kicked in," I said, looking up at Izzy.

"I'm sorry, Rae," he said softly.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked him with a laugh. "You didn't do anything."

"Because it's like every couple of weeks something happens to you, and I feel like I should be able to do something about it, but I can't."

"Izz, it's not your fault that some people are clumsy. Shit is bound to happen. You know that I'm accident prone," I pointed out.

"You're almost as reckless as us," he joked. "Still, I feel bad."

"It is not your fault," I assured as I shifted the ice pack on my knee.

"I know, but I wish we could have avoided it. How's your head, by the way?" he asked, moving to look through my hair for any signs of bleeding.

"Swimming. I feel nauseous as hell," I said shakily, hissing in pain as he brushed his fingers over the sore spot.

"Sorry! Well, you're not bleeding, but you have a pretty solid knot on the back of your head."

"Great."

"Don't fall asleep," he warned, a stern look on his face.

"Why not?"

"Because if you have a concussion- which you probably do- it's not safe. Especially if none of us are around."

"Gotcha. Dammit, Izzy, I'm bummed," I said, throwing my hands up.

"Why?"

"I wanted to see the show tonight. I promised," I cut myself off before I said 'Slash.'

"Promised who?"

"Myself," I lied easily.

"Oh. Well, maybe you can get a chair or something and sit on side stage," he suggested, shrugging boredly.

"Not a bad idea."

°°°°°°

After Guns N' Roses played their set, Slash and Duff sat on either side of me, both of them sitting on the ground next to my legs, almost like bodyguards as I watched Mötley Crüe play. Every now and then, I could feel Slash 'accidentally' brush his fingers against my thigh as he passed me a cigarette, but for once, I didn't mind. I guess after having sex with someone, you don't really care as much, but for us, it was very different; half of the time we were ready to murder each other, and and the other half of the time, when we thought that were trying to be neutral, it turned out that we were ready to rip each other's clothes off.

"I'm going to the bar," duff informed, stretching. "Behave yourselves," he teased before wandering off, looking for the exit.

I rolled my eyes with a laugh, but my attention was quickly directed back to the stage when Vince announced that they were playing their last song of the night.

"Did you come for a piece?" he screamed into the microphone. "A piece of what? A Piece of Action?"

The crowd went insane once they figured out the the hinted song, and the band roared to life once more, playing Piece of Your Action.

I watched as Nikki prowled about stage right, closest to me. He was mesmerizing when he played his bass, especially because he told me that he had never technically learned through a teacher; he had taught himself, but he looked like a pro on that stage, so confident and charismatic. His fingers plucked out a rhythm, and I could actually hear it from this part of the stage, making me realize how badass the bass really sounded.

Vince was already half drunk, but he somehow was pulling through and remembering almost all of the words; anytime he got stuck, he simply held the mic out to the crowd, and the problem was solved. He took to running around the back part of the stage with the back up singers, Donna and Emi, and it seemed like every time he stopped moving, he was going to collapse from exhaustion, but he pushed through due to pure adrenaline.

Mick was an electric powerhouse on the far side of the stage, and it was amazing to me that a man who was usually so quiet could make that much noise by himself. He didn't run across the stage much; he just strolled around, but when he walked, you could see him sway, which wasn't a surprise; Nikki had told me that Mick liked switching his stage water with vodka.

Tommy was behind his kit, and he was tearing it up; I thought he would have been the most tired after the solo he and Nikki (and a bottle of Jack Daniels) had done, but he was still going strong. He didn't bounce in his seat like Adler did, but then again, no one was like Adler. He kept on beat, and shot me a smile when he noticed I was watching him, still full of energy.

As they wrapped up the song, one by one, they filed off of the stage, taking a quick breather before the encore.

"How are you doin', Carolina?" Nikki asked, walking over to me as he patted his sweaty face and neck with a towel.

"Yeah, how's your knee?" Tommy followed up, standing beside Nikki.

I shrugged before saying, "It's killing me, but I'll be fine. I think I'm going to try to beat the crowd, though, so while you guys do the encore, I'm going back to the hotel. You guys killed it!"

"Thanks," Nikki said, beaming. "And hey, we're all really glad you could make it." He and Tommy were both smiling widely at me as Mick and Vince were a few feet away from us, talking to Donna and Emi.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Hey, do me a favor and tell Vince and Mick that I said you guys did fucking awesome," I said, shifting in my seat so that I could easily stand up when I was ready.

"You got it, girlie," Tommy said, instantly turning on his heels when he heard Vince call to him and Nikki. "See you in a bit," he called back over his shoulder as they all got ready to go on again.

"You ready, Rae?" Slash asked me, standing in front of me.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," I said, trying to think of how I could stand without fucking up my knee.

"You need help?"

"Nope," I said, waving him off. I tried to get up, only to lose my balance and almost fall, only to be caught by Slash.

"You need help," he confirmed. "Here," he said, sticking his cigarette between my lips, "hold that."

"Why can't you hold it yourse- Oh!" He easily picked he up, catching me off guard as we headed for the exit.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, you just surprised me," I said, smiling tiredly at him. "Thank you."

"Of course. Just don't ash that thing in my face," he joked.

"You got it," I said, tapping the ash of the cigarette off to the side of where we were walking.

°°°°°°

When we got back to the hotel room, he laid me on the couch and brought me a blanket before heading into the bathroom to take a shower, claiming that he had what we commonly referred to as 'stage stink'. Once he had returned, he got us each a drink before grabbing his guitar and sitting on the floor beside me.

We talked for a few minutes, but soon, the conversation died down, unlike my headache, which was still pounding. I listened as he softly strummed his unplugged guitar, and the beautiful but faint sounds made me feel at peace. After a while, his hair dried, causing it to be fluffy, which made the usual temptation of touching the perfect ringlets to return, and I wasn't planning on ignoring it.

"Enjoying yourself, princess?" he Slash asked me as I began to play with his soft curls.

"Don't call me 'princess,' asshole," I grumbled back.

He laughed softly. "You know we're alone again, right? You can stop playing mean if you want."

"I'm not playing anything... and I'm not trying to be mean," I said quietly.

"What's going on with you?" he asked, sounding nearly sad by my sudden change in mood.

"Well, along with my knee, I have a really bad headache. I feel like my head is going to explode."

"Oh, sorry," he said, moving to put his guitar down.

"No, it's okay. I like listening to you play."

"Okay," he whispered happily, picking up the instrument again.

"Hey, Slash?"

"Yeah?"

"When did you learn to play?"

"I think I was about fifteen. It was kind of by accident."

"How do you get so good at something by accident?" I asked with a laugh.

"I'm not that good," he said softly, his voice tired. "I took lessons at first, but eventually I learned everything by ear. Now I just play around and get things out of it- songs and stuff."

"Hm. That's cool."

"Yeah, I guess so. Izzy told me that you play, too," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I used to, but I haven't in a long time."

"Why?"

"Well, when I came to L.A. the first time, someone that I was friends with stole my guitar. He had told my parents that I had said he could use it, which I didn't. When I got back, I was angry, and on top of everything, the one thing I wanted to spend my time on was gone."

"That's a really shitty thing to do."

"Yeah. Definitely."

"Well, why don't you play now?"

"Well, for one, I don't have a guitar."

"But you have access to how many on this tour?" he asked, laughing softly.

"You've got a point, but I don't think I remember how to play anymore."

"Then I'll teach you. It'll be fun."

"We'll see," I said, closing my eyes as I twisted one of his curls between my fingers.

"I'm sorry that you had a shitty day," he mumbled after a while.

"It's not your fault. Besides, it didn't start out bad," I said with a smug smile. "It was just from about the time that I got knocked down the fucking stairs. I was impressed you had such an easy time of carrying me around, though."

"You're light," he said, turning around with a shrug. "And I'm glad it started out okay," he said, a shy smile on his face.

"Well, it was definitely more than just okay," I replied, feeling the blush flood my cheeks as I attempted to flirt (which had never been a strong suit for me).

"Oh, really?"

"Mm-hm."

"Does that mean we can do that again some time?" he asked mischievously.

"Well, I was hoping that we would," I said, gently tugging on one of his curls, which sprung back perfectly when I let it go.

"Me, too," he said, stretching a bit so that he could kiss me from where he sat on the floor.

It was still weird to me when we kissed; I enjoyed it, but it was almost surreal. Even before I was sent back to Indiana, when I was absolutely sure of my feelings for him, it was less likely for us to be sleeping together and kissing. These days we spent so much time arguing that us making out or hooking was the farthest thing from what anyone had expected .

"Shall we?" he suggested, signalling to the bedroom area of the room.

"Do let's. Just give me a second, my knee is kinda stiff ri- or not," I said with a giggle as he stood up suddenly and scooped me into his arms.

"I'll be careful of your knee," he assured, gently setting me on the bed before pulling off his shirt, which was becoming a familiar sight that I was starting to enjoy... a lot.