Rose N Bud 3 – Sinking Deep

….

Warnings: mild description of violence, blood

Song credit: "Come Together" (orig. by the Lennon/McCartney…but Rosie's version matches the one performed by Gary Clark Jr. and Junkie XL)

…..

Shifting her shoulder to pull freshly washed hair free of her backpack, Rosie walked into the hotel where the band had been staying, looking around nervously. A burly young man in a skin tight black shirt walked up to her, making her startle and take a step back.

"Rosie?"

She nodded. He flashed a bright smile, and a GNR security badge. "I'm Tom. Follow me."

Rosie smiled tentatively, walking after him, glad he slowed his pace for her. He took her down to the basement, out to a rough-looking loading dock where several large sleek black buses waited. Tom directed her towards one, nodding reassuringly as she stood at the steps.

Taking a deep breath, she boarded, looking around as she made the top of the stairs. She stood in a large common area with a bank of built-in seats that curved around towards the front of the bus, where a number of the band were stretched out chatting. Axl lit up as he recognized her.

"Rosie! I knew you'd come!"

Mel gave her a friendly wave from where she was curled up. "You're a brave woman, Rosie, wading in to this sausage fest."

"You seem to manage it okay."

"Years of practice, honey." Mel laughed. "And the occasional beat down."

"That's the truth, Rosie. Mel's got a hard right hook."

Coming over, he gave her a curious look. "Where's your stuff?"

Rosie shrugged, letting her backpack slide off her shoulder. "This is all I have."

"Travel light, hmm? Nice. Come on, I'll show you where you can drop it."

Leading her to the middle of the bus, he showed her a stairwell. "Go on up."

She started up the stairwell, craning her head back and forth as she reached the top, where rows of beds lined the space.

"This is so cool!"

"Huh, well, I'm sure it must be, the first fifty times or so…Just go ahead and toss your stuff anywhere. We're not that far from the next show, so we won't be using the beds much."

Coming back down the stairs, Axl gestured around. "We've got our own kitchen and a decent bathroom. The back is more open, gives the guys room to set up equipment and practice during the longer rides."

"That must be fun to watch. You sing with them too?"

"Some, gotta keep the pipes warmed up." Axl smiled. "But I try not to overdo it between shows, my throat needs recovery time."

"I'd wondered about that. Yours is the only really irreplaceable instrument."

"Don't let Slash hear you say that. He's had some of those guitars for decades, even named them."

"I can believe that! Everyone is so talented, but he's got something exceptional going on when he has a guitar in his hand."

Axl's face turned wistful. "It's true. I knew there was something different about him the first time I heard him play in a dingy little dive bar on the strip."

"I've seen some photos and video of the early days. You all seemed so rough and raw. I can't imagine how it must have felt, fighting for your place on the music scene. The whole lot of you all looked half-starved."

Axl snorted in amusement. "We were starving most of the time." He patted his stomach, smirking. "Slash and I have definitely got past that issue."

"You talking smack about me, old man?"

Slash had wandered over, leaning against a cabinet near Axl.

"Just telling Rosie our days of being lean, mean and hungry are long over."

Slash grinned wide. "Well, maybe the lean and hungry parts. You're still a mean son of a bitch."

"Fucker. You're not exactly a ray of sunshine." He gave Slash a shove, eyes twinkling.

"Oh, like that, yeah?" Slash reached over, grabbing Axl's shirt, pulling him forward and throwing an arm around his neck to loop behind him, growling in his ear. "Whatcha gonna do now, pretty boy?"

Axl looked positively wicked as he dropped down, then pushed up with his back, knocking the wild-haired man into the cabinets behind them with a wheezy 'oof'. Spinning, he reached out, he and Slash starting to grapple, and he was tossed into the cabinets himself.

Reaching up, the singer put a hand into wild curls, gripping tight enough to tip Slash's head up and back. They stood panting and grimacing at each other, almost growling, only to pause and turn at the sound of a soft gasp.

"Are you…ok?"

The two men relaxed immediately, facing Rosie with wide grins, Slash throwing a friendly arm over Axl's shoulders. "Don't worry, little lady. We've been wailing on each other since we were teens."

"We don't take it to the mat too much anymore. Too hard to get up these days."

"Heh, speak for yourself, old man. I'm still plenty bouncy."

"Spoken like someone who hasn't broken most of the bones in their legs several times over."

Rosie chuckled. "Well… if someone didn't have a penchant for diving face first off the stage all the time…"

"Hah! She's got you on that one, old man."

"Eh, suck it."

Slash snorted. "You first."

Rosie broke in. "As much as I'd -truly- love to see that, I think I'd rather get comfortable first."

Both men turned wicked smiles Rosie's way. Slash moved in, leaning over her, thick body swaying with the motion of the moving bus.

"Well, well. Who knew you were such a wild woman?"

"What's to know? Why should 'two are better than one' only be for dudes?"

"See that, Ax? It's always the quiet ones." He put a large hand on Rosie's shoulder, thumb rubbing the side of her throat. Rosie harrumphed, frowning, though her cheeks flushed.

"It's only 'always the quiet ones' because no one pays us any attention." She pried Slash's hand off her neck, slipping out from under his looming form.

"Mind you, for me, it's entirely theoretical."

"Is what now?" the guitarist laughed, leaning against the cabinets where Rosie had been.

"An idea, not an experience."

"You don't know what you're missing then..."

She glanced over her shoulder to look him over with disdain. "Don't know, don't care."

Slash pursed his lips, scowling as Rosie turned to walk away.

"What's it gonna take, little lady?"

She turned slightly back, winking Axl's way where Slash couldn't see.

"Let it go, beastie. It's clearly beyond your abilities."

Axl coughed amusedly, barely hiding a laugh as Rosie left to join the group in the common area.

"Little bitch is tougher than I thought."

"Maybe if you weren't trying to hump her leg like a dog…"

"What, she only likes guys that pretend they don't want her? How blue are your balls, Ax?"

Giving a not-so-light punch on the arm, Axl threw him a cool look.

"Quit it, fucker. It ain't always about how fast you can get to bumping uglies."

Slash rubbed his arm, smiling at Axl and leaning in close.

"So…do you think she'd actually go for doubles? Been a while since we had fun with each other…"

Axl nearly growled. "Not now, Slash."

The guitarist laughed, the deep sound carrying through the space. "Damn, you have got it bad. Good luck with that shit."

Slash clapped his friend on the arm, trailing back towards the common area after Rosie.

Axl sighed, running both hands up his face and over his scalp, leaning into the cabinets behind him.

Rich came shouldering past, heading for the fridge to pull out some pop and energy drinks. Axl caught him glancing over, hiding a smirk.

"What, I got something on my face?"

Rich chuckled, closing the fridge door, gathering up the pile of cans.

"Maybe, yeah. Don't think you'll be able to wipe it off that easy though."

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, sure. She's really sweet, by the way. Can't figure out what she might see in you."

"Thanks, jackass."

"Anytime, man. Come on, grab a drink and join us. Maybe we'll get her talking, finally get to know her a bit, find out she's really an ax murderer or something."

Grumbling, Axl shrugged. "I'll be there in a minute."

Rich wandered off, shaking his head. Pushing off from the wall, Axl glared at the kitchen, finally going over and putting some water in the electric kettle. He gathered fixings and some travel mugs as the water heated, ladling everything out once it was ready, sweetening both mugs generously with honey.

Finally smiling, he grabbed the cups, heading over to the common area lounge. Rosie sat on the outside of the seat bank, hovering at the edge of the conversation, though she grinned and scooted in when she saw him coming.

"Here you go, Rosie. Sweet tea for a sweet singer."

She blushed a little, the apples of her cheeks brightening as she picked up the mug in both hands. Holding it close, she closed her eyes, inhaling the scented steam.

"Oh, it smells lovely. Is that orange and ginger?"

Axl nodded, eyes sparkling, at least until he caught Slash whispering to Duff, the two of them glancing at him with looks of amusement. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his eyes, turning back to Rosie.

"That okay? I didn't know how you liked it, just made it like mine."

"It's perfect, really."

"So, Rosie, Axl tells us you don't sing professionally. Have to say that was pretty impressive for an amateur."

Rosie dipped her head, smiling at Rich's words. "Thank you. I've been singing since I was in high school choir, but really just for the fun of it. And to help the kids settle down. "

"You ever think of going pro?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Absolutely not. As amazing as it was to be up on stage with all of you, that's really not my comfort zone."

Slash snorted. "What's that got to do with it? You just do your thing. No risk, no reward. And it gets easier the more you do it."

"I get that, Slash. But I'm not a creator like you, just a pale conduit at best. I'd much rather sit back and listen, let the music and lyrics resonate into emotional catharsis."

"There you go with the big words again."

Rosie shrugged. "I don't mean to sound elitist. I'm sure I had a much different upbringing than you did."

"Maybe. Tell us about it?"

Rosie took a deep breath, eyes down on her mug. "Alright."

Axl patted her leg, smiling gently when she looked up at him. "Whatever you're comfortable with. We're pretty quiet about our own lives, so we get it."

"Thanks. It really wasn't that bad or anything. My mom and dad split up when I was about three. He wanted to move into an anti-hippie commune in San Francisco where we lived, and she wasn't having it. So, she moved to the east coast to be by her mom, with me and my older sister. I'd go visit him during the summers. If it had been a thing back then, I'd probably have had enough frequent flyer miles to fly around the world by the time I was twelve."

"Anti-hippie? Is that a thing?"

"It was kind of like a 12-step thing, but with a cult leader instead of organized religion. They were in the news quite a bit back in the day. Mostly because they got out of hand, threatening people, separating kids from parents and being abusive, shit like that. They folded for good in, like, the early nineties, I think."

"Did they hurt you?" Rosie turned to look up at Axl again, giving his concerned look a wry one of her own.

"Nah, not really. I was a visitor, and a child. They weren't that stupid, at least not when I was there. I did have to take part in their 'games' though. It was a thing where you sat in a circle with your peers once a week and yelled at each other to get all your frustrations out."

"That…doesn't sound that bad?"

"Not in theory. And I'm sure there are ways to do it that are productive. But imagine a bunch of seven- to fifteen-year-olds, screaming the worst things they can think of at each other, sometimes for hours. And in the midst of that there's fat and privileged little me, who gets to leave all that and go home to a real house, a real family, not some dorm filled with shaven-headed strangers. It made me an easy target."

"Did you give 'em hell back?"

"That's not how I'm built, Slash. I'm not one for screaming, or name calling. I don't believe in hurting anyone else like that."

"Don't you ever get mad at people, Rosie? What do you do, punch a pillow?"

Rosie shrugged. "Get massive heartburn?" She gave a weak chuckle. "I don't know what to tell you, I just try and let it go. I kinda don't care to waste my energy that way. Easier to just walk away and be happy somewhere else."

"What do you do when you can't?" Axl asked softly.

Giving him a bleak look, she answered just as quietly. "Change what you can, endure what you can't. What other options are there, save the final one?"

The group got quiet, light mood effectively killed. Frank's strong voice cut the silence.

"You said home was SF? That where you were born?"

Giving him a look of gratitude, Rosie nodded. "That's why I came to your show. It was perfect timing, a chance to come home, and have a special evening. Well worth paying for the expensive floor space. You all made it much more amazing than I could have imagined, though."

Frank chuckled, the sound rich and deep. "You have Axl to thank for that. He's the one that clocked you in the audience."

Arching an eyebrow, Rosie turned an amused look at the redhead next to her. "Oh, really?"

Axl had the grace to look a little chagrined, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his mug. "Well…you seemed a little sad…and I thought it'd be nice to do something…" he smiled at her "kind."

Smiling back, Rosie leaned her head against Axl's arm, patting it gently. "It most definitely was that. I seem to owe you for quite a lot of the good that has come my way recently."

Axl gave a short bark of amusement. "What, like getting you roofied? I'm sure that's how you thought your night of partying with rockstars was gonna end."

"Well…I dunno, pretty sure there was a decent statistical probability…"

The whole gang laughed, mood lightening again.

Duff arched a dark eyebrow. "You know stats? Or just know it when you see it?"

Rosie gave him a measured look. "I have a master's in business, Duff. Most of the work I've done over the last few decades has been in data analysis, financial management, operations, project management. So yeah, I know it when I see it."

Duff whistled, and most of the group looked semi-impressed. Axl had a bright look in his eyes and a toothy grin. "More than just a pretty face then."

Rosie rolled her eyes. "Dear heavens, I certainly hope so. If that was all I had going for me my family would've starved a long time ago."

"Hey now, none of that. You're a lovely person, and you really could do something with that voice."

"Sure. That and a fiver'll get me cup of coffee. I'll stick with my day job."

Slash chuckled. "You're far too practical, Rosie. You gotta live a little, take a chance."

"That's easy to say when no one else is depending on you for survival, or when you have resources to ensure your 'chances' aren't really all that risky. I've never had those luxuries in my adult life. This is actually the first time since I was a teenager that I've only got myself to take care of. And here I am, singing on stage with an actual legend, getting roofied at an afterparty and traveling in Rockstar style. There a name for aging groupies? Wait…don't tell me. I don't think I really wanna know."

There was general laughter, and Axl put an arm around Rosie, giving her a quick squeeze. "You're not a groupie, Rosie. No one that matters will think that of you."

She sighed, patting his leg. "Thank you."

There was an announcement over the speaker system, the bus driver letting them know they'd be reaching their hotel in about half an hour. Rosie looked around at everyone.

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, we settle in, snag some dinner, have a wonderfully exciting evening for the few hours we have left, get a good night's sleep and spend tomorrow getting the whole crazy mess set up for showtime in the evening."

"So…kind of like watching paint dry, but with a good soundtrack? Awesome."

"Still cheeky. If you were hoping for 'everything, all the time' you're a few decades too late."

"Aw, hell, no. This is much more my speed. That old party stuff just sounds exhausting…and painful."

"You were making a good run of it last night."

"Really?" Rosie raised an eyebrow, giving Duff a stern glance. "You mean the buzz the ginger ale I was drinking gave me before I got drugged?"

"Wait, you weren't even drinking?"

"I was all alone in a strange land filled with strangers, and, might I add, I still got hit. I put my soda down for a minute, some guy made me so nervous I gulped half of it before the salt aftertaste hit me. Then it really hit me." Rosie was quiet, looking down at her mug. "If Axl hadn't stepped up I don't know what would have happened."

Axl and Duff exchanged glances. Reaching across the corner of the table, Duff put a large hand over hers. "I'm glad it worked out, really."

Rosie relaxed a little, giving the tall blonde a small smile.

Patting her hand, he leaned back. "You really are much too nice for all this. Don't let these assholes wear you down."

"Hey!" There were several shouts of protest, and the conversation quickly devolved into taunts and embarrassing stories that had Rosie nearly crying with laughter. By the time the busses pulled up to the hotel, everyone was back in good spirits.

…..

"Just stand here, Rosie." Axl drew her forward to the center stage. "Slash'll hit the intro and you just belt it out, loud as you can."

Rosie looked a little like a deer in the headlights, staring around at all the crew running around like ants as everyone got ready for the night's concert. Behind her, Duff and Slash were warming up, Rich joining in, Mel testing sound effects on her keyboard while Frank ran through a slow roll, then smacked the high hat with flourish.

"You're…sure?"

"It's fine, Rosie. We just need to test the mic, get a read on the volume and tone. You're really helping me; I rarely get a chance to hear how vocals sound out in the stands."

"Oh...ok…" She took a deep breath, breathing out slowly. "I'll do my best."

Axl pulled her into a quick hug, waving Duff and Slash over. "You'll do fine. Now, lady's choice – what song would you like to run through?"

"Ah…would 'Come together' be ok?"

Duff smirked. "The Beatles, hmm? I think we can manage that."

"…Can it be a little …rougher, and…" She scrunched her nose, glancing sideways at the two guitarists without meeting their gaze. "…harder?"

The men all chuckled. "We can do that. Can you?"

Rosie shrugged stiffly, cheeks flushing. "Gonna have to start playing to find out, I guess."

Duff gave her a sympathetic look, patting Rosie's shoulder and leaning in close. "Think of the song like it's playing on the radio. It's ok if you close your eyes, or focus on the empty seats at the top of the stadium. I know you can do it."

Nodding, she looked up, eyes and smile bright.

Slash grinned as well, sliding his hands expertly through the opening chords. "Be ready to roll after the second riff, Rosie."

Another deep breath. "Ok!"

Axl called out. "Gimme a chance to get off stage, dammit!"

"Better move fast then, old man!"

"Fuck you!" Axl laughed, heading stage left to leg it down the stairs.

Slash watched their front man, toying with riffs that were so close to the song's start, teasing Rosie with wild gyrations till she was almost breathless with laughter. Giving her a minute to calm herself, he wandered back to talk with Rich and Duff then moved back up to take his place on the other side of the stage.

"Ready to rock that old man's face off?" he called over to her. She gave a quick thumbs up, and he started an exaggerated sway to mark the tempo of the song, Frank picking it up, nodding as Rosie caught it as well.

She seemed ready, but still startled when they started playing, Slash's guitar wailing high as Duff's throbbed so low she could feel it in her bones. It took the third riff for her to jump in, but she came out strong, voice husky and rumbling in turns, turning the song dark and suggestive, the tag line breathy.

Duff laid down a heavy beat that soon had Rosie swaying and rolling. Axl, standing out by the back of the floor space, bounced and clapped along, clearly grinning like a madman.

Nearing the end, Slash came stomping over to her, fingers flying over the strings on his guitar as she started on the last set of lyrics, and her eyes sparkled as she turned, leaning against his broad back as she sang. As she hit the final lines, she raised her free hand, waving it like a conductor, and the group followed her lead, bringing the instruments to a powerful stop as she sang the last 'over me' in growling acapella.

She stood panting and grinning like fool, the band whistling and hollering their approval. Axl climbed back up on the stage, clapping wildly. Throwing his arms around her he lifted Rosie up off her feet and swung her around, the whole band and crew laughing as she squealed.

She swatted at him playfully as Axl ruffled her hair, almost glowing with joy, the annoyance clearly for show.

"Great job, Rosie!" He swung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side as he called out to the lead sound tech.

"Jim, did you set the adjustments I asked for?" Axl called into his radio. Up in the booth, one of the men threw him a thumbs up. There was sudden staticky chatter, the singer picking up the radio to listen closer.

Letting go of Rosie, he patted her back, heading towards backstage. The sound of tearing fabric drew her attention to the front edge of the platform, where one of the crew was on his knees, taping wires, making sure they were held down smoothly.

As Axl turned away, the man pulled something out of his pocket, brandishing it as he crouched low. Rosie's eyes popped and she hurled the mic at him, sprinting to follow it.

Time seemed to slow for her, the mic tumbling end over end, the man batting it away and re-aiming, the bright flash of gunfire and smell of sulfur, his eyes widening as she barreled into him, curling to hit him like a cannonball. They both went down, and she bit hard on the first thing her mouth met, tasting blood and feeling something hard grind between her teeth.

With his rough scream, time sped back up, hands suddenly pulling on her as she fought against them, muffled sounds buzzing low in her ears. Spitting against the taste of iron and slime, panting hard, she swung her head around, eyes blank and glassy.

"ROSIE!" Noise resolved into recognizable sound; her name called with desperation by a familiar voice. Turning, she met sad green eyes, a worried face framed with soft red hair.

A name came to mind, but her voice failed her, soundless lips moving without a whisper. A tear rolled down his cheek, watery smile blossoming as she raised a trembling hand to wipe at it.

Fire burned across her shoulder, her body shaking despite Axl's tight embrace. She whimpered at the pain and the sight of blood on his neck, trying to wipe at it, pulling at the collar of his shirt to see where he was injured, till he wrapped one of his hands around hers to still her frantic movements.

"Easy, Rosie, you'll be fine. There's an ambulance on its way. We're gonna take good care of you. Just relax. It's gonna be okay."

She shook her head, making noises of distress as she kept up her panicked efforts to find where he was hurt. Hands gloved in latex came into view, taking one of hers in gentle grip, one sliding to hold her wrist while the other turned, analog watch with a thick second hand sweeping swiftly across the face on a burly wrist.

A thick voice in her ear called her name, and she turned slowly, flinching at the bald, meaty face so close to hers. "Easy there miss, ah…Rosie was it?" Axl nodded.

"Alright Rosie, I'm going to help you. Don't be afraid."

There was a light brush of fabric, sudden waft of cool air on tender skin. Feeling a firm pressure, she cried out, pain lancing down her arm, radiating across her chest. Axl gritted his teeth, nearly growling. "Watch it, fuckface."

"I have to check the wound, Mr. Rose. Why don't you help me get Rosie on the stretcher?"

Axl gave her a soft look, cupping her cheek and rubbing it gently. "Okay, Rosie, we're going to go for a little ride, get you all taken care of. Nothing to worry about, everything's gonna be okay. There we go." Getting on one knee, Axl put Rosie's good arm over his shoulder, letting the medic get up and lay the stretcher down next to her. The man leaned across, strong arms reaching under Rosie as they slid her sideways onto the mattress.

Popping up the safety rails, the medic fiddled with the stretcher a moment, bringing it up to waist height as another responder, this one a lady, came over with a blanket. She smiled at Rosie, laying the blanket over her, chatting softly. "It's okay, Rosie. We're going to go for a ride now, get you fixed up. You'll be right as rain in no time. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

The two responders started wheeling her away, Axl walking with them, holding Rosie's good hand. Slash jogged over, keeping up with them as they moved to the back of the stage.

"What's the plan, Ax?"

"I'm going with them in the ambulance. Send a car around to the hospital, once I know what's going on, I'll be back. Let the crowds know there'll be a slight delay. Don't say why, just blame it on me, everyone expects that kind of shit anyway. And tell the cops I want that candyass motherfucker charged with everything they can think of. That fucking 'Superfan' fuckjob's gonna be rotting in jail for what little is left of his miserable fucking life."

Slash nodded, slowing down and watching the group move off down the ramp to the waiting ambulance. Catching Rosie's scared glance as she was being lifted into the back of the vehicle, he started waving, not stopping till they were out of sight.