Circle the Drain (Eminem & Kim Song-fic), a 8 mile fanfic

[This is the last time you say,
After the last line you break,
It's not even a holiday,
Nothing to celebrate.
You give a hundred reasons why,
And you say you're really gonna try.
If I had a nickel for everytime,
I'd own the bank.]

I slam the front door shut, startling Marshall, who's eating nachos while watching, what, by the constant explosions, I assume is some action movie.

Mouth full, and spitting nachos crumbs and cheese everywhere, Marshall greets me, "hi, babe! You scared the fuck out of me."

"Where were you today?"

"Out."

I throw my purse at him, hitting hik in the jaw with it, and causing him to drop his nachos.

"What was that for, you bitch?" Marshall shouts at me, standing up.

I storm over to him, "You forgot our daughters. *Our daughters*, Marshall, again. And where were you, you were *out*? Surely that's not the best excuse you can come up with, God knows you fucking lie to me all the time!"

"Like you're so innocent, I wasn't the one who had a baby with another person while making my boyfriend think it was his."

"Don't start that shit with me! You probably have a bundle of children with woman you've had one night stand with, you ain't no saint, and don't start acting like it!"

Maybe I'd pressed the wrong button with him, that's something I seem to be good at doing, because he grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall.

"Of all the people in the world, *you* should know me better than that. If I have a child out there, I'm gonna find it and take care of it. Besides, it's not like I don't use protection, I'm obviously smarter than you in *that* department."

I snack him, more mad at him shoving me against the wall than his comments, I was used to them by now.

"Forget about whether or not you have other kids, you've fit three right here in Detroit that you know about, and you're not taking very good care of them anymore. You've become what you despise, a stereotype. You're that drug addict dad who doesn't take care of his own kids. You're an asshole."

Now he punches me, sending me stumbling back, "I take great care of all my daughters!"

"Really? You've forgotten to pick them up from school three times in the past two months! Those people up there already think we're negligent as it is, you're not fucking helping, Marshall!"

"I've been busy!"

"Doing what?" I step towards him and punch him too, he falls to the side, "and don't fucking punch me again," I say this, but know it'll probably happen again.

He gets up slowly coming over to me, and, surprisingly, rubbing my arm. "I was at Bizarre's place, we're working on some tracks. As silly as you may think it is, rapping is my *job*, and it's what's gotten you you're nice lifestyle."

"Ha!" I wrap my send around his neck, "babysitting your wacky ass isn't exactly a nice life."

"But never having to worry about money must be a plus." He kisses me on the lips softly.

I shrug. "Truthfully, I don't know, all the shit your fame's brought, dies it really even out with the money? I think I'd want to trade back, but then I think about the girls, and I wouldn't take away financial certainty as long as they're alive," I return the kiss, but not a pussy one like Marshall's, although his was sweet, but I kiss with fire, making it sexy and passionate.

Marshall, unknowingly agreeing with my description of the kiss, tilts his head, seeping the kiss, he bites my lip hard, and I open my lips for him, allowing his tongue to come in.

I push him up against the wall, grinding him at a slow rate.

He snakes his hand down my blouse and bra, rubbing my nipple.

I feel him smirk as I moan, I can't let him win, so I take his shirt off and rub his chest with my right hand, rub his cock with my left hand.

His breathing starts to uneven a little, so I turn around, grinding my ass into him, but at a faster pace than before.

I rest my head in the crook of his neck, so I feel it when his head goes back in pleasure. He puts his hands on my waist, pushing me into the bedroom and onto the bedroom.

[Thought that I was the exception,
I could have rewrite your addiction,
You could've been the greatest,
But you'd rather get wasted.]

He pulls my jeans down, rubbing his hand against my vagina, then he drops his pants, and even though we still have my panties and his boxers as barriers, he rubs his cock over my clit, eliciting a squeal from me.

He gets down on his knees, takes off my panties, and spreads my legs, first just probing me with his tonics, then diving in, swirling his tongue in circles on my clit, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up.

My now, I'm out of breath and bucking my hips, then he stops swirling his tongue and flunks it in and out, after a few minutes of this, I feel myself on the brink of climax, and he's knows it too, which is the only reason I can think of that he unexpectedly stops, his lips.

"You dirty motherfucker!" I say, hand now rubbing my pussy.

He grabs both my idle and occupied hand, putting them above my head. He gets on top of me and guides his penis into me.

I wrap my feet around his waist, causing him to get distracted. I wriggle my hands out of his grip and flip him into his back.

I face towards the wall, doing a reverse cowgirl, and begin riding him at a rapid pace.

Usually during sex, he'll talk dirty, I'm not a big fan of talking during sex myself, but I've grown to like hearing his comments, and I'm confused when I don't hear anything.

I turn towards him to see his eyes close.

This pisses me off more than anything, he's fallen asleep during sex! This has gone too far.

I slap him, only for him to not even open an eye, he moved slightly to the left with the impact, but he's still sleeping.

I slap him again and again, turning his face into a punching bag, continuing to get no response.

Anger aside, he's obviously passes out.

I go to his studio, tears swelling my eyes.

Immediately my eyes fall into his notebook with the green cover, and the Vicodin on top.

If he's trying to hide his usage, which he's probably even too high at this point to try and do, he's not doing a very good job of it.

He'd actually made me think he was done with drugs.

[You fall asleep during foreplay,
'Cause the pills you take, are more your forte.
I'm not sticking around to watch you go down.
Wanna be your lover, not your fucking' mother.
Can't be your savior, I don't have the power.
I'm not gonna stay and watch you circle the drain,
Watch you circle the drain,
Watch you circle the drain.]

****** {flashback}

Hailie's on Alainia's back and Whitney's in my arms as we enter the house from a day at the park.

Marshall sounds to be in the kitchen, he's… snorting.

My eyes widen as I realize what he's probably doing.

"Um, Lainie," I hand her Whitney and practically shove the three girls through the living room and up the stairs, "take your sisters upstairs. Do not come down until I give you permission."

I make them face me, and grab Hailie and Alainia's faces for emphasis, "promise me you won't come out of your room until i tell you too?"

Alaina and Hailie nod, fear etched across their little faces. "Yeah. But what's wrong, Mom?"

"We'll talk later. Go."

I remember when he first started doing prescription drugs, we did them together. We'd do them during the holidays, Debbie was hardly ever home, she was always out playing Bingo.

Now, and the last few times I've caught him getting high, weren't even special occasions.

And me catching him's becoming more and more frequent.

He just makes up stupid excuses; "I didn't get enough sleep last night," "I'm just letting loose, it's been a fucked up day," "my back's been bothering me." I can't wait to hear it this time.

[You say you have to write your rhymes,
Whatever helps you sleep at night
You've become what you despise,
A stereotype
You think you're so rock and roll,
But you're really just a joke.
Had the world in the palm of your hands,
But you fucking choked
Should've been my team mate,
Could've changed your fate,
You say that you love me,
You won't remember in the morning.]

I take a deep breath before heading to the kitchen, it's always troubling to confront Marshall.

I storm in there and grab the codeine, pouring the substance down the sink.

It take Marshall a moment to react, but he pushes me blindly, sending me into the island, as he tries to reclaim his poison.

"What the fuck was that about?" Marshall shouts at me, grabbing my wrists.

I struggle out of his grip, pushing him off me. "You can't be doing that shit with the girls home! You promised not to do it with me around, you promised to quit completely."

"I'm gonna. Get off my case." He goes to the fridge, getting a soda.

"When? When you've passed out and are in the hospital? This isn't just fun and games, your health is on the line, your daughters' health and safety is too. What if I'd just dropped the girls off? They would have walked in here and found you. What would you have done then? We're you even aware of us?"

"All I know is I'm tired."

"What? Do you even know what you're talking about?"

"It's only for Encore. I work all the time. When I'm done I'll be done."

"You're not making a lot of sense, all I got is that this is for Encore. That's ridiculous. I know drugs are stifling your work, you've got too great of a mind to just let go to mush because of drugs!"

"Is it cold outside? I was thinking about playing some hoops."

"You're in no condition to play hoops, or even be around your own kids! 50 and the rest of your little entourage can't save your ass in public, Eminem, and I can't keep saving your ass around the kids, I'm not your fucking Momma as it is anyways." Kim gets behind Marshall, guiding him by the shoulders up to his room.

After a few minutes of cooing, I'm able to get him into bed and tucked in.

I sit down with him, he flips over on his stomach, and I massage his back, just wanting to get him asleep.

Finally, I hear light snoring, I leave the room and go get my girls.

But as I do, Marshall, who apparently isn't asleep, stops me, "Kim?"

"What?" I say, exasperated.

"I'm really going to stop."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Marshall."

"Let me finish Encore, and once I do, I'll be a brand new man. I'll go to rehab."

I perk up, he'd never gone as far as saying he'd go to rehab.

"Really?"

He wipes his eyes, sniffling. "Yes. I don't wanna lose you again, baby. Or my little girls. Just give me a few more months, and I promise I'll be more careful around the kids."

This sounds really good. "Okay, I deal with that." It also sounds too good to be true and I can't help but to wonder of he'll even remember his promise in the morning.

**** {end}

Looking through his notebook brings a profuse amount of tears to my eyes.

I thought Encore had some bad stuff, but he's barely finishing sentences in this.

Rehab didn't last long. His faux promised, none of them stood through the storm.

I've had enough of all of this. God knows I've had my share of drugs. But I thought surely after all the shot I went through because I'd drugs, shit he witnessed firsthand, he'd be more willing to actually try to give it up.

Maybe I just liked thinking I was still special. With all the girls he's with temporarily, I hoped our history would mean something to him. I was wrong, just another fool.

I don't want to go through anymore of Marshall's drug habits, and my kids don't deserve it either.

I leave the studio, walking to Marshall's room where he's still passed out.

"I tried, Marshall, over and over. But I can't just sit back anymore and watch you circle the drain." I whisper, even if only to myself, as Marshall's still passed out.

I head to my car, popping the key in and leaving, the girls are at Marshall's Aunt Betty's house, which is good, it gives me time to go file for a divorce and full custody of my daughters.

[You fall asleep during foreplay,
'Cause the pills you take, are more your forte.
I'm not sticking around to watch you go down.
Wanna be your lover, not your fucking mother.
Can't be your savior, I don't have the power.
I'm not gonna stay and watch you circle the drain,
Watch you circle the drain,
Watch you circle the drain.
Watch you circle the drain,
Watch you circle the drain.
You fall asleep during foreplay,
'Cause the pills you take, are more your forte.
I'm not sticking around to watch you go down.]