#I think I've decided I'm going to mail him a potato note

[whenthegoldrays]

Went to an anniversary dinner today and the husband told us that when he was interested in his wife/trying to court her, he decided to get her attention by sending her a potato in the mail.

No box, no wrapping, no nothing, just her address (and a note) written on the potato in Sharpie and three postage stamps stuck on.

When it arrived at her house the whole family was congregated around the potato wondering what it could possibly mean, afraid it might be a bomb 🤡

[themadauthorshatter]

... This is going to be more triggering than my Sanders Sides Beetlejuice AU, and I deeply apologize.

This is a Happy Tree Friends story I've thought about and it got inspired by a scene in the Asylum season of American Horror Story.

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR PTSD, AVERSION THERAPY, FORCED/DELIBERATE TRIGGERING OF PTSD AND HALLUCINATIONS, ISOLATION, BEING HELD CAPTIVE/HOSTAGE, ANIMAL DEATH, AND A LOT OF OTHER THINGS!!!!

PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!

Additional note: I'm visualizing the characters as human, so don'tbe caught off guard when I bring up a character's hair or complexion. It makes this story easier for me to picture in my head, that's just how I work. And this is mostly TV perspective, so thought I'd tell you that, too.

We begin with the sun rising and a new day starting, how lovely. No one is fully awake, but two people are and they are having a race.

Who's against who?

Simple.

It's Flippy on his feet and Splendid in the air to see who's faster on which and they're neck and neck in this.

Flippy sees Splendid next to him and asks if he's holding back, because this is not the fastest Flippy can run.

Splendid jokes that maybe it is because this is the SLOWEST he's flown in a long time.

Flippy laughs and kicks it into maximum overdrive, full on sprinting as fast as he can, even faking a turn to throw Splendid off his flight. While he stays on his intended path, and shouts that Splendid fell for it, Splendid calls him a cheating bastard.

Flippy laughs and contunues sprinting until he stops on a sidewalk in the town.

How lovely because Splendid is sitting on the wood of one of the telephone poles and waves at him.

Flippy pants and asks how Splendid both beat him and got up there.

Splendid simply floats down and claims it's just a hop, skip, and leap of faith.

And no cheating, which he points out.

Flippy clarifies that he actually DID NOT cheat. He would've gotten some of kryptonut and put it in his pocket, if he really wanted to.

Splendid gasps that he wouldn't, but Flippy shrugs and says he knows a guy, so don't tempt him.

The two share a laugh, but Flippy freezes as he hears a nearby woodpecker.

Splendid spots it and comments on the lovely avian specimen.

That's when a knife is thrown and (TV perspective) off screen kills the bird.

Splendid sees Flippy threw it and has 'killer instinct' eyes.

Thank goodness it's just them and there's no one else around because just as Flippy readies another knife, Splendid grabs him and flies to a hill, fast enough to get there within a minute or so, but not so fast that Flippy dies from the velocity.

It snowed a little bit, but it's enough for Splendid to toss Flippy into.

The cold instantly snaps him out of it and Flippy quickly looks around and asks where they are.

Splendid shrugs and answers the hill, and the realization sets in as Flippy's face drops, groaning and putting his hands over his face.

Splendid sits next to him as Flippy asks if 'it' happened again.

It did, but there was no one outside, so at least it got stopped before anyone got hurt.

Flippy is still crestfallen and rests his head on his arms, which are on his knees.

Splendid asks if he really can't control when he flips out, and Flippy confirms that as much as he can, but he still can't, mainly because when he feels like there's nothing to worry about, he remembers how he got comfortable and confident before and it ruined everything.

And he can't control the world or what randomly happens.

If his instincts say he's in danger, he's using thise same instuncts to keep himself safe.

Splendid digests those words as Flippy takes a breath and stands up, thanking him for the race and apologizes for talking his ear off and snapping on him.

Splendid stands as well and asks if Flippy needs help getting home, to which Flippy politely declines, not wanting to beat Splendid in another race. Splendid narrows his eyes and dares Flippy to repeat that, but Flippy chuckles and says he'll see him around before leaving.

Splendid watches him go and gets to thinking. He and Flippy have been friends for a while, and this stuff with flipping out and all that has been bothering him for a long time. He'd also been informed that Flippy went to Lumpy for help, but it failed miserably, so he was left to deal with it using the medicine he'd been prescribed. Beyond that, nothing seems to have helped him.

He also remembers how he had once had a doctor friend that helped people with addiction and talked with him about how some people aren't addicted to substances, but to feelings or emotions, as a comfort thing.

We don't get any more thoughts because we return to Flippy as he lets himself inside and leans against the door, very much upset with the fact that he lost it in front of one of his friends, especially one loke Splendid, who he rarely flips out on.

And it doesn't help that he hasn't lost it in a very long time.

Because his instincts are going haywire and he just needs to know HOW bad his episodes get, Flippy gets up, grabs a couple party poppers that were left over from a party he was fashionably late to(he had to do a check-in/catch up call with one of his army higher ups so they knew he was okay), and goes down to a basement, one that has a hatch door in the floor rather than a regular door.

He locks it behind him and goes down to a fully concrete basement that has holes and scratches in the concrete, because he's strong.

Here's where that deliberate triggering of trauma and an additional blackout Trigger Warnings come in, because Flippy sets up a camera, that's recoeding, takes one of the party poppers, and squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls the string and sets it off.

Flippy instantly starts seeing that he's back on the battlefield and not in his own basement, and hyperventilates as he sees an enemy standing over him, smirking and gun ready.

Flippy stares up at this enemy, but that fear melts into anger and throws himself into his enemy, landing next to a gun, which he uses to take this enemy out.

No time to relax because he gets grazed by another enemy soldier.

He smiles and chuckles, readying the gun and a knife from his leg before he races forward.

We don't see anything happen, save for black, but we fade to see Flippy coming to on the floor, sweaty, bruised, and knuckles bloody.

He groans and pushes himself up, rubbing his head for a minute before he finally looks around the basement.

The walls and floor are worse than before, but at least the camera is still intake.

Flippy gets up and stops the camera, sitting down as he reminds it back until plays it.

There's no battlefield, no enemies, no threats at all. In the video, Flippy pops the party popper, and clutches his head as he curls into the ground.

He hyperventilates and looks up backing away from someone that isn't even there. At least before he throws himself into the wall a makes a small shelf of knives fall. He mimes shooting the person before grabbing numerous knives and racing toward and hitting the wall and stabbing the wall, even punching and kicking it.

That explains the busted knuckles and bruises.

We don't see the rest of the video, but we do see Flippy's face grow more distressed and upset as he keeps watching himself fight nothing and just beat himself instead.

It is not easy to watch at all.

The video eventually ends with Flippy passing out on the floor, where we caught up with him.

Flippy puts the camera away and leans against the wall.

Guess he's a lot worse than he thought.

He sighs and rests his head against his knees.

Guess he's not leaving the house today either.

Time jump to a week or so later!

It's bright and sunny, and we're checking in on Flaky now as she struggles with some groceries; it originally started as a trip for shampoo and a new toothbrush, but it became a food run as well because she got hungry. She can't really see where she's going, but is trying her best, okay?

Carrying five bags at once a was huge mistake because she trips on a rock and almost falls down.

Almost, because Flippy catches her and helps her back to her feet.

Flaky shrieks and asks who it is.

Flippy decides to mess with her and lowers his voice, asking for either a hello or her life.

Flaky gasps and says he'll get a shoe to his shin, if he doesn't watch himself.

Flippy chuckles and asks if she skipped breakfast again, seeing all the bags she has. Flaky, turning to look at him, corrects him: she DID eat breakfast, but lunch was calling and she couldn't leave it on voice-mail.

Flippy, following along with the analogy, takes a bag or two and advices she try to learn how to BLOCK those calls when they drain her wallet.

Flaky hums, but thanks him for helping, and for the wallet he got her; it's sleek, but holds a lot of money and cards. Or card, which Flippy mutters as they walk to Flaky's house.

Flaky kicks at him, but they half walk, half run to Flaky's house. Once they arrive, Flaky thanks him again for the help and says she'll have a potatoe, butcher beef, apple soup/curry waiting for him next time he comes over.

Flippy chuckles and agrees, countering he'll bring her a cake SMOTHERED in sugar, cubes, chunks, powered, candy, caramel, all that garbage so that her teeth fall out and he can help her get METAL teeth instead.

Flaky sets down her groceries and stamps her foot, saying Flippy is not her father.

They still hug each other and Flippy leaves, telling her to take care of herself.

He continues on his walk and pays attention to the birds that are singing and wind blowing through the trees.

No time to fully appreciate it because Splendid turns a corner and Flippy waves him over, much to the superhero's delight.

They quickly touch in and ask how the other has been before Flippy interests Splendid for another race, 'the only rule is win' edition.

Splendid has a better idea: coffee. He had just finished some errands and was on his way home when he and Flippy ran into each other.

The invite seems iffy, but Flippy accepts, not wanting to run off like last time.

They walk and Splendid's smile drops a little, which draws Flippy's attention, the ex-soldier asking if everything's okay.

Splendid nods, saying everything's fine. He's just had some stuff on his mind that he can talk about when they get to his house.

Flippy stops for a second and watches Splendid continue walking, following behind more cautiously.

Cut to Splendid's house as the superhero fixes himself and his guest some coffee, though Flippy is slow to drink his because it doesn't smell like black coffee.

When asked, Splendid explains that the grounds were a little stale. He'd bought some that was fresh, but didn't want the old stuff to go to waste.

It calms Flippy enough for him to take a drink of coffee. He also asks what's been eating at Splendid, even apologizing for leaving him hanging last week.

Splendid shakes his head. Water under the bridge, everyone has their moments.

Speaking of moments, Splanedid asks if Flippy's been better since their race.

He shrugs, admitting that he's had worse happen, but that still doesn't make it good or even okay.

Splendid asks if he's ever gotten help for his 'issues' and Flippy asks back if he thinks Lumpy is really as good at everything as he thinks. Splendid supposes not, all things considered.

Done with the interview, and taking a drink of more coffee, because he's tired, Flippy asks what Splendid's deal REALLY is, and why he's so interested in Flippy's personal issues.

Splendid gives it to him straight: he's noticed that Flippy's trauma is bothering him on a pretty big level, and it has him worried for his friend, not because he can hurt people, but because he's seeing how unhappy Flippy is, and how much it tolls on him. He's had SOME experience with people who've had similar problems to Flippy's and there's a sort of therapy that's helped them. Granted, he knows Flippy doesn't enjoy flipping out, but, in a sick sense, his mind and body do. And there's a way to trick his mind into pushing his instincts away and leaving him with a normal life.

Flippy keeps his head propped up on an arm and finishes his coffee, so tired that he's barely listening and is instead asking for a fresh mug, because he doesn't understand either.

Splendid only takes his empty mug and suggests he's probably had enough coffee; he'll be up all night, if he drinks more than one cup and, as he's already said, Lumpy is a terrible doctor and will say he's about to die and overlook that he's just high of caffeine.

Flippy laughs and shakes his head, asking if Splendid is a better doctor and scoffing that he can take Lumpy.

He stops laughing when he sees that Splendid is straight faced and looks a little apologetic.

Yeah. Heavily delayed, 'oh shit!' moment for Flippy, who now realizes that there was something IN his coffee; he knows what stale coffee tastes like because he once suffered through a month of the stuff.

And he can't flip out on Splendid because he's too tired, so he's left to try running for the door.

That fails, too, so he can only pull and push himself away from Splendid, who apologizes for lying and for making Flippy go into such a panic, all the same he's just trying to help him and hopes he both forgives him and understands where he's coming from.

Flippy only keeps trying to get away, weakly telling Splendid to stay away from him.

From Flippy's blurry and world-spinny eyes, Splendid is the General from the Tiger Bomb mission, said General kneeling in front of him and smirking as Flippy knocks out with a sigh/groan.

Flippy doesn't wake up until MUCH later. He's got a splitting headache and, upon seeing all of the white-ish walls around him, sighs that he really must've fucked himself up when he set off that party popper, rubbing his head as he does so.

That's when he notices the handcuff and chain on his wrist, one that keeps him chained to one of the walls. He checks his other hand and sees that there's an identical handcuff on his wrist, also connecting him to the wall.

Not a dream.

Before Flippy can lose it, he sees a door open and Splendid walk in, looking very sheepish despite being the stronger of the two at the moment.

Before he can get any words out, Flippy charges toward him, at least until he's stopped by the chains.

It still makes Splendid jump back; powers be damned, if Flippy's mad at you, your days are numbered.

Splendid, from his place against the opposite wall, asks quite stupidly if Flippy's mad.

No. He's not mad at all. He's having the best damn day of his life, thank you for asking.

Sarcasm. All sarcasm that Splendid misses and is relieved by.

That relief vanished when Flippy charges again, pulling the handcuffs enough to make himself bleed.

Flippy demands to know what the hell is going on and why he's handcuffed in a padded cell.

When Flippy starts pulling a little too hard, like he's pulling hard enough to dent the chain links out of place, Splendid acts fast and aims a spray bottle at Flippy, and sprays water on him.

When Flippy backs down, Splendid repeats what he said upstairs, especially apologizing for not explaining how he was going to help him.

Flippy banks up, stands down, and sits down criss-crossstyle, which makes Splendid let out a sigh of relief, following his friend so they're sitting across from each other.

Flippy asks what EXACTLY Splendid was thinking when he drugged Flippy's coffee and then took Flippy to a loaded cell in his basement.

Splendid explains that he was just thinking and didn't regard what would have happened, even admitting that drugging the coffee wasn't his best or first plan; somehow sneaking up behind him with a nasty was, but that seemed insulting to Flippy's skills, so he thought about just working him out with races and exercise until Flippy passed out. That seemed like the most painful option, and the most tiring because wherever Flippy would fall would be unpredictable, so he just went south putting something in his coffee so he'd go unconscious for a little while.

Flippy takes all of this in and asks why Splendid didn't just ASK him to try this treatment he was babbling about earlier and Splendid admits that it's used for addicts to help them stop using whatever substance they're on. It's a pretty brutal technique, but it has worked.

The brutal part has Flippy concerned, so he asks what that means.

Splendid stops beating around the brush: aversion therapy. Using old war footage and medicine to make Flippy not want to go on a rampage whenever he gets triggeres.

Flippy stares at Splendid for a minute before taking off his boot and throwing it at him, asking if he's out of his damn mind.

That's not how his 'issues' work. Aversion therapy is meant to change another person so they AVERT away from something. Besides, what if they go through the therapy and Flippy's ordered backninto service, but ends up dead because he can't rely on his instincts?

Problem solved already because, as Splendid points out, Flippy's on a paid leave; his job is to stay OUT of the army now.

Flippy readies his other boot and Splendid backs down. Yes, he could've been more open about this to him. Yes, the whole chained to the wall in a basement thing is WAY too far. Yes, he should have told him as soon as he can, and he's sorry he didn't.

Flippy calms down and asks why he thinks it will work. No offense, but this is already working less than anythung Lumpy did, and the fool hypnotized himself into being a chicken.

Splendid admits he isn't sure, but he still wants to try to help.

Flippy asks what he'll do if he refuses to try this therapy. He's already on pills.

Splendid shrugs and says that while he'll be disappointed, he'll understand and won't be mad. Again, he just wants to help his friend and this is something that's worked for other people, not the chaining to the wall thing, but the aversion and sensory friendly environment, hence the padded room that isn't white, just a very light grey mixed with some blue, which is a calming color.

Flippy considers it for a minute before askung Splendid if he absolutely knows what he's doing.

Splendid nods. It took him a little freshing up and some review from a friend of his, yes. He knows what he's doing.

Flippy eyes him for a second before nodding, agreeing. Despite not saying it out loud, he wants to live life without worrying about killing everyone or snapping because his old instincts getting the better of him.

But stipulates that as soon as things get REALLY bad, they're calling this whole thing off and won't have anything to do with each other after that point.

Splendid rightfully agrees to those terms and tells Flippy to follow him to another room.

Flippy holds up his hands, reminding him of the handcuffs.

Those come off and the two leave the room, Flippy hoping Splendid was good on his word that he knew what he was doing.

Splendid shares a similar sentiment, instead hopi g that he can help his friend have a normal life.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Four [PT.1]

Words: 3.1k

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of substance abuse

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NIKKI 

"My wife doesn't tell me she's having an important surgery done, no, no, she just tells her girl friend Sharise who tells Vinnie and I'm the last one to fucking know about it." I tell Amber. 

"I didn't wanna stress him out." Vivian insists, raising her brows. 

"No, you just don't wanna keep me in the know just to piss me off." I argue. 

"Nikki, go to hell." She tells me. 

"You're not talking to him like that in here," Amber scolds her. "Just like he's not talking to you like that. We aren't doing that anymore. That was the issue last week. I didn't stop you two from talking trashy to each other and it got you where you are right now." She states. "Vivian, why didn't you tell Nikki about your procedure?" 

"I didn't even tell the father of my kid I was having it done--I'm just a private person." She tells her. 

"Duff doesn't even know?" 

"No, he doesn't, and he's not going to." She looks at me. 

Note to self: call Duff when she leaves. 

"Why haven't you him?" Amber asks her next. 

"Because I was freaking out over it enough as it was. I didn't need more people freaking out over it." She says. "So I just told Sharise because she was the one driving me home from it."

Amber just raises her brows and thinks for a second, her lips pursed. 

"You see what I have to deal with?" I ask as I motion to Viv. 

"Nikki, please." Vivian rolls her eyes. 

"And she wonders why I won't fuck her. She doesn't deserve it at the moment." I add. 

"Your dick isn't made of gold, Nikki, it's some trophy I should have to earn--especially when you clearly have no qualms tossing it around like a hot potato from one pussy to the next." 

"That's not how you were acting last week." I argue. "

"But you won't fuck me because I'm not Vanity." She says back. 

"I won't fuck you because the thought of screwing a pregnant chick makes my skin crawl." I admit. 

"You'll go down on me while I'm on the rag but me being eleven weeks pregnant--barely showing--is where you draw the line?" 

"Right, sorry, 'I won't fuck you because the thought of screwing a pregnant chick makes my skin crawl when she's pregnant with a baby she cheated on me to conceive,' there, that's better." I correct myself. 

"At least I know the lovechild I have, exists. Do I even wanna think about the girls you've probably knocked up across the globe the last several years?" She accuses me. 

"Unlike you, dear, I know how to fucking use condoms." I cut back at her.

"Gee, can't imagine where I learned to hate condoms in the first place." She sarcastically adds. 

"Fuck if I know, you were telling me to take the damn thing off the first time we even had sex, little miss, 'I'm a virgin', 'this is my first time,' which looking back now is so obviously bullshit." I scoff. 

"I was until you fucking corrupted me." 

"My apologies, I didn't realize I was creating a cum monster whose main ambition was to procreate." 

"And I didn't realize I was creating a codependent junkie." She doesn't hesitate to throw back at me and we're both silent just enough for Amber to cut in. 

"I am going to give you two homework." She says, sighing, glancing at the clock. 

We're out of time. 

"I want you two to write each other a letter, one that doesn't involve putting one another down, and I want you to pick a time--any experience or memory with on another--that you consider the happiest you've been with each other, and I want you to mail them to each other, and next visit you'll read each other's letters back to one another to remind that person what they wrote. Sound easy?"

We just look at each other, not saying a word. 

I didn't want to waste my time writing something for her that she'd just rip up without reading, and I knew she would, and I could see she didn't want to do that, either.

I'm great at song writing...but love letters? 

I think back to the last love letter I wrote for Viv...the one in the back of her Bible I gave to her. 

It kind of hurts that one of the last physical confessions of love I gave to her was practically a suicide note. 

I close my eyes and groan, rubbing my forehead. 

Fuck.

I try to think back to my happiest time with her over the last years. 

Like flicking through the index of my mind--as best as I can, at least…

I let out a heavy sigh as I flip from channel to channel, chewing my gum, getting frustrated when I can't find anything interesting to watch. 

"Are you gonna find a channel and stick to it or are you gonna keep flipping through the same channels and expect programming to change in a matter of seconds?" Vivian asks in a borderline snap, getting aggravated with me. 

I just roll my jaw and turn the T.V. off, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. 

"I didn't say turn it off, Nikki, you can watch T.V., just pick a channel and stick to it." She sighs, her Bible still in hand, the pad she's using to take notes in, in her lap. 

"No. You just read your shit in peace and quiet. Sorry for the interruption." I reply, passively. 

"Nikki, turn the T.V. back on and watch it." 

"I'm good." I state. 

"Ugh, you are such a whiney baby." She mumbles and I raise my brows, looking at her. 

"I'm a what?" I ask, and she looks at me. 

"A whiney baby." 

"A whiney baby?" 

"Yeah." She says it surely. 

I'm grabbing her socked foot that's in my lap, making her squeal, her Bible and notepad falling in the floor when she kicks at me as I start tickling her foot. 

"Nikki, stop!" She laughs out, sitting up and trying to fight me off of her. 

"No, I'm a whiney baby remember?" I remind her, letting her foot go, getting on top of her, my hands moving to her waist, making her laugh again, trying to push me off of her. 

I lean down and kiss her exposed neck, and stop tickling her, instead wrapping my arm under her, pulling her against me, settling between her legs. 

She sighs and kisses me when I lean down to her. 

Once we pull away for air, I run my thumb over her lip and she blinks up at me, slowly. 

I can tell she's thinking, "what the hell is this? What are we doing? We aren't dating, we're not just friends, though, so what are we, Sixx?" 

I don't know, either. 

I'd tell her that but I don't want to freak her out or something. 

I like her, a lot...more than a lot…

"What is it?" She asks me, and I realize I've just been staring at her. 

"I, uh...I'm not really seeing anyone else anymore, you know?" I say, hoping she gets the hint, and she raises her brows a little. 

"Oh." She replies.

"Not that it's a big deal or anything." I add. 

"I wasn't thinking it was." She shakes her head a little...but I can practically see her doing little mental cartwheels and screaming out with joy. 

I just smile at her, kissing her again.

I wrinkle my nose at the memory, not quite sure if that's when I was at my happiest with her. 

I just decide to keep digging through more of my memory--what's left of it, that is--until I'm grabbing my pen, and writing away at the paper. 

"Shhh, shh, you're gonna wake her up!" Vivian whisper yells at me as she holds a sleeping Skylar, the little baby wrapped up in a thick blanket, pacifier in mouth, knocked out cold.

"It's nearly 5:00a.m., what the hell are you doing up?" I ask her, trying to talk straight after a night of booze and blow. 

"She hasn't slept since midnight. I've been trying everything but she just dozes for a few minutes and then wakes back up and whines." She explains.

She looks tired...exhausted, really. 

"You want me to hold her and you go to bed?"

"She doesn't like you, the second she gets the feelings you're holding her, she'll wake you screaming." She reminds me. 

"She likes me." I argue. 

"Nikki, she purposely pees on you anytime you change her diaper, she gets antsy when you hold her--not to mention the amount of times you weren't paying attention and put her clothes on backwards or inside out and she pitches a fit." 

"Hey, trying to dress a squirmy kid is military-grade patience training. If you try to perfect whatever it is she's wearing, she gets irritated and just wants down and starts moving around more and making it more difficult to get some clothes on her." She just chuckles a little and gets quiet in the light of the little reading lamp, her eyes closing slowly. 

"Viv," 

"Hmm?"

"Go put the baby in the little crib thing Sharise brought over and go lay down." I tell her, quietly. 

"I'm fine where I'm at." She insists, but I know she's not. 

I take the chance and gently pick Skylar up, causing Vivian to say, "Nikki, don't wake her up," and I carefully make sure not to wake her as I carry her to the guest bedroom and put her in her playpen on her back like Sharise drilled into mine and Viv's heads to be sure of. 

She doesn't wake up, and when I get back to the living room, Vivian's asleep in her chair, cuddled under the blanket she had Skylar under. 

"Alright," I nudge her awake and she hums, furrowing her brows. "C'mon," I say to her, and she reaches her hands out. "What is it?" I ask her. 

"Can you carry me?" She asks and I sigh out. 

"Yeah, baby," I don't tell her, 'no,' despite not knowing whether or not we'll get to the bedroom because I'm tired and I know she obviously is, too, and she's not light as a feather--which will just make me more tired by the time I head to the bedroom. 

I scoop her up and make it to the bed, only nearly dropping her once due to losing my footing--which that's not her fault. That's just the evidence of my night out. 

When I lay her on the bed and pull my clothes off, crawling in beside her, she's snuggling up to me under the covers.

"You smell good." She mumbles to me. 

"I don't know how. I smell like cologne, sweat, and booze." I mumble back, my eyes closed. 

"You smell good." She repeats it. 

"You do, too." I reply. 

"I showered. You should try it some time." She says. 

"Okay, Sixx, don't make me whoop your ass at five in the morning." I tell her, keeping my eyes closed, and she giggles, pressing her lips to my cheek, and my jaw, her nails trailing down my chest to my abdomen, deliberately running over the trail of hair leading down to my…

"It's five in the morning." I groan out, biting back a moan when her hand wraps around me, another kiss being pressed to my cheek. 

"We can be done in a couple minutes." She tells me. 

"I thought you were tired." I reply, trying to wake myself back up being that a certain part of me is up and alert. I rake my hands down my face as she straddles me, before looking up at her. "You're like those spiders that wait for the males to be vulnerable then they fuck 'em and kill 'em." I add, despite my hands running up her thighs to her waist…

"You always complain about early morning sex but then by seven o'clock you're the one not letting me tap out." She reminds me. 

I just grab her hips and push her off of me before getting on her, making her laugh before my mouth catches hers, my teeth bitting at her lip before my tongue smoothes over it, making her moan softly. 

By the time we're finished and satisfied, I'm getting off of her with deep breaths, the both of us gasping for air, covered in sweat--even our hair. 

We don't hear Skylar down the hall which is a good sign that she's still asleep. 

It's weird having a baby in the house. I know it's temporary, until Vince and Sharise get back from their little Florida getaway, but it's odd taking care of someone else aside from Vivian.

I wonder what it would be like if Viv would've actually been pregnant when we got married like she thought she was. 

We'd have a two year old by now. 

How fucking bizarre would that be raising a kid in this life at the moment. 

Sure, Vince is doing it, but that's because Sharise is solid as a fucking rock. 

I'd take a bullet for Vivian--fucking die for her--but she's not solid like that, not right now, at least. She used to be. 

I mean she's still sober as shit but sobriety doesn't help much when you're wired even though you don't have a drop of anything in your system.

Look at me, like I'm one to be talking about dependability.

I look over at her, she's passed out, damp red hair across her pillow, covers pulled over her shoulder…

I reach over and run my fingertips across her cheek, the palm of my hand moving up to smooth over her hair as rays of sun start to filter through the small parting in the blackout curtains.

I'd love to have a kid in a couple years--maybe even within the next year--it just depends on the band, whether we're where we need to be by then or not...whether me and Viv are where we need to be or not, too. 

Which as of right now, we're great. 

We're more than great. 

We haven't argued in two weeks. 

Two fucking weeks. 

Who the hell goes that long without arguing? Certainly not us, but here we are. 

We weren't fighting as much because we were having sex like bunnies. I'm talking at least twice a day--Twice. A. Day. For two and a half weeks. 

Looking back, I know it's because she was in the wake of a miscarriage, I was in the wake of Vince and Razzle's tragedy, we were both craving a quick fix and I guess sex is how we were illusioned into believing we were healing. 

In reality we obviously weren't solving anything, just brushing it under the rug, but it was honestly the happiest I had been with her for our marriage. 

It was peaceful. We weren't at each other's throats. We weren't at war. We looked forward to seeing each other and spending time with each other, and it was the closest we got to being how we were when we were just dating...so that, for me at that time, was the happiest I remember us being.

The next day I'm taking my enveloped and stamped letter down to the mailbox in the hall near the recreation room, passing by Amber on my way, seeing her nod at me in acknowledgment before I'm halting myself and coming back to see her. 

"Hey, Doc, I need a word." I tell her. 

"Can it wait, Mr. Sixx, I'm running late for a meeting?" 

"I wanna know why having sex with my wife is a bad thing?" I ask, and she stops and looks at me. 

"It's not. Nobody said it was." She tells me. 

"You told me it might jeopardize our progress if we move too fast." 

"Because it very well could. You both have co-dependence intertwined in your sex lives." She explains.

"Well, I don't know if you've been paying attention to the last couple sessions but my wife has needs right now. And not having sex with her right now is jeopardizing our progress because she thinks something's wrong with her." 

"But you've told me, and her, you don't desire her because she's currently carrying another man's child."

"I've been thinking about it and I told her I'd work this out with her and how I've acted towards her is kinda contradictory to that." I admit. "And I can't go home and screw her into next week because you've got me paranoid about messing things up, now." 

"Have you told her my opinion on sex in your relationship as of now?" 

"No."

"Well, then, tell her about it and I'll take the blame for it." 

"I don't want you to take the blame for anything, I want you to 'ok' me banging my wife." 

"If you want to, 'bang,' your wife, then you can do that. There's not a law in the universe barring you from getting intimate with her."

"Sure as shit feels like it." I argue. 

"Tell you what, you talk to her about it--tell her my opinion--and we'll touch on it in the next session." She suggests. 

"Pun intended?" I ask and she furrows her brows, looking unamused. 

"...Okay, nevermind." I mumble. 

"I'll see you Friday for your session with the boys, have a good day." She tells me, giving me a nod before walking away. 

I just shake my head a little, irritated, and drop my letter in the mail box, heading to the payphone to try to call Vivian. 

"Hello?" She answers on the second ring and I clear my throat. 

"H-Hey, it's me," I say, and she's quiet for a moment. 

"Hey," she finally answers and I let out a breath of relief. 

"Do you wanna visit tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something." I tell her. 

"Is this where you tell me you're filing for a divorce afterall?" She asks and I rub my lips together. 

"No, Viv, it's not. It's about our sex thing." I struggle trying to define it. 

"Can we even have a sex thing if we aren't even having sex?" 

"Ha. Ha. Smartass." I state. "Seriously, you wanna come?" 

"More than you know." She replies and I can't help but laugh. 

"Pun not intended." She adds. "I'll be there around nine o'clock, if that's okay? I have another appointment to check on the baby since the surgery and then I'm gonna try to go shopping for some decently healthy things because I'm gaining too much weight at the moment." 

"You're pregnant--that's your excuse to eat whatever the fuck you want, when you want it, isn't? Like a chick liberation thing or something." 

"I'm eating too much junk, I don't want to pop out a fifteen pound baby. My pussy will rip to my ass." She says and I get a horrifying image. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Nikki, I gotta go." 

"Alright, see you then. Bye, baby." 

"Bye." She replies softly before hanging up.

I pick at the inside of my lip with my teeth, another thought coming to mind...and my eyes shift to my pinky ring on my right hand...the same one I'd proposed to Vivian with back in '83.