*~*David - 1st Person POV*~*

Fuck, Jonny pick up...pick up the fucking phone...please...where are you?

I wrinkle my nose in disgust as Richie and Liam snort up at the small dining table. Even my beer looks unappealing. My hands tremble as thoughts of the unknown race through my head. Jon was so close but...fuck...where was he?

"You want one, Lem?" Richie offers.

"I don't fuck with that shit anymore," I snap. Fucker knows I've hated it since the accident in '89.

Richie shrugs and sits back against his chair, rotating and cracking his neck. "As I said earlier, man, we can't DO anything until he surfaces. Sit. Relax for a change," he rolls his eyes, "You never used to be this uptight..."

"Last I remember, I got laid more than you," I shoot back in my best egotistical wiseass tone. "I have my own ways of relaxing, Sambora."

"You ever think there was a reason for me pulling back on the women?" Richie was really working my nerves. Why the fuck had I even agreed to this shit?

"Couldn't keep it up..."

"Jesus...are we in a schoolyard," Liam grumbles.

We glance at each other then over to Liam. "This is nothing," I say with a shrug.

"Best of friends," Richie nods slowly, "worst of enemies. Or used to be..."

I take a deep breath to still my temper and gulp the rest of my beer, curling up on the sofa with both phones and looking between them every ten minutes. "I wasn't the one who ditched us mid-tour. Not a call, email, text...nothing. You could have told us beforehand you wanted out. A little warning perhaps..."

Can of worms officially opened!

"To risk getting my heart handed back to me again," Richie bit out, "Once was too much. Fool that I was, I kept going back for more, didn't I?"

Liam watches the exchange and holds out a rolled joint to me with a lighter. "Here, man...it's on me."

I sigh heavily and took the offering. "Thanks." I lit the end into a bright red cherry and slowly the conversation eased into pleasant memories, laughter and the TV as background.

Another couple of hours pass and Richie got up without notice, heading toward the bathroom. After he didn't come back, I decide to check on him. Passed out on the bed. Typical Richie.

I kick Liam's slimy ass out of the suite and drop onto the sofa, staring at the phones and the mess of powder and seeds on the table.

Beep Beep Beep...

I snatch mine up quickly, swiping the screen into action.

Matt: DB it's Matt, Jon's phone just turned on

David: What? Where?

Matt: You're in AC, right? He's across town from you. I'll send the address. It'll take me too long to get there. You call me ASAP when you get him, otherwise you're a keyboardist without usable fingers...got me??

David: I'll play with my fucking toes, M

Matt: 8972 Madison Ave...Venice Park district

I check my watch for the time before replying, I can be there in 30 minutes or less. I'll buzz you then.

Instead of waking Richie up from his passed out state on the bed, I grab my jacket and stuff both phones in my pocket. I slip from the hotel suite. The hallway was silent save for moans and grunting from a couple of rooms.

I jab at the DOWN arrow for the elevator, tapping my foot impatiently and rolling my neck to loosen the stiffness. The doors ping and open. I hit the button for Floor 7 and descend.

"Hey, Sal! Open up!" I call out and bang on my buddy's door. Without getting much of an explanation other than I need the keys for his car, Sal handed them over with the promise of me allowing him to sleep.

Beep Beep Beep...

This time it was Richie's phone that beeps. I unlock it with the passcode and my heart sinks at the message, "Baby I need you. Help me."

Fuck...he wants Richie. I swallow hard and try to shake off the threat of tears. "Jonny?! What's going on? Where are you?"

"Please don't ask...not yet. Ping my cell for location. Whatever you do, don't call it! Just come get me...I need you...please." Of course, he needs Richie. He always needed Richie. Part of me felt bad for lying but it was Jon's well-being on the line.

"Okay, Jonny...on it."

"Thanks, baby...I love you...I miss you." I curse as the elevator doors open into the lobby.

"I love you too, darlin'," I type and hit send. It was true and...fuck...I need Jon to know that. Fuck Richie.

*~*

"Fuck me..." My stomach tumbles as the GPS directs me to turn left onto Madison Ave. Fuck...I haven't been to a neighborhood like this since I was a teenager.

Most of the homes were boarded up or spray painted in graffiti. It wasn't a place my white Jew ass was welcomed. I find the house Matt sent me and pull in, extinguishing the headlights and glance around.

I rummage in Sal's glove compartment and find his personal firearm. It was fully loaded. He'll kill me but I don't care. I take it and step out of the car.

Up to the broken walkway to the front door, the smell of dog shit and stale cigarettes makes me grimace. I knock. No answer. I test the knob and the door creaks open. Inside it's musty and smells of B.O. I wrinkle my nose at the intrusion.

Raise the gun and sweep through the rooms. No one else is here. Up the stairs, the stench grows unbearable. I follow it to the last door on the right before the L turn, inhale deeply and open the door.

"J-Jon?" I call out. My steps are careful and the floorboards whine under my boots.

A low groan comes from down the dark hallway to my left. Doing another sweep to establish if there was going to be an ambush from behind, I round the corner, sticking as close to the dirty wall without touching it.

There are two closed doors and an open bathroom. Using the flashlight on my phone, I check the first room cautiously. Empty. I inhale and gag on the stench emanating from the next room.

Shining the light around the room, I damn near miss the huddled form under a dingy blanket on the mattress in the corner. A mouse squeaks and scuttles across the filthy floor.

"Jon?" I call out, painfully aware of my voice echoing. "That you, baby?"

The mass slowly pulls the blanket down over ahead of knotted hair. I still can't tell if it's Jon. Cautiously I approach and tuck my phone away.

"Jon?" No answer.

I reach an unsteady hand out to move the blanket, curling my fingers around the edge of the dirty fabric and hurl it away quickly. Truth be told, I was ready to run in case it wasn't Jon. Instead, my knees give out in shock at the sight before me.

It's Jon! Or rather what used to be Jon.

But those familiar blue eyes meet my own. "Rich?" The voice is hoarse and barely audible.

"It's me, Jonny. It's Dave."

"D? No...Lexi has you again," he shakes his head as though in denial.

"No, she doesn't, J...Fuck, I'm so sorry," I bow my head towards him. "I shouldn't have told you to leave. Can you move? I need to get you out of here."

He reaches out a shaky hand, gripping me hard on the arm as if verifying I was real. Jon tries to move but cries out in pain, curling back in on himself.

I click the gun safety and holster it in my jacket, doing the same with Jon's phone. "C'mon, baby. I got you." I rush to his side and scoop him up into my arms, bile rising in my throat at the sight of the bloodied mattress. "Goddamnit, baby, what the fuck happened?"

"D?" Jon whispers hoarsely as I carry him like an infant from the room and back down the stairs. Sal would hate the stink in the car, but it was worth it to get Jon back to the hotel.

"Yeah...I'm here..." I heave Jon into the passenger seat and take off down the street as gunshots ring out in the distance.

"I'm...I'm sorry," he weeps, tears tracking through the dried blood and grime down to his scruffy beard. "I don't...I'm so sorry."

I reach over and tangle our fingers together. "Just relax, baby. You're safe. I promise and I swear to God if I could give my life to take back everything I said to you, I would."

"Don't...I deserved it all and more," Jon cries, "I...I was wrong and didn't consider anyone else but myself. I'll understand if you still want to quit the band."

"Not happening," I reply firmly, voice betraying my emotions. "Cuts can heal and scars will fade. You can only go so far till you find your way back home."

Jon starts to drift off as I get on the main highway, exhaustion and possibly relief finally taking its toll on him. But before he gives in completely, he asks softly, "I texted Richie, how come you came?"

I hesitate for the space of a heartbeat, long enough for the predicted rain to begin falling. Why did it always have to be Richie?

"My buddies brought me down to try and...I dunno...cheer me up? They ended up bringing me to Richie's show." I roll my eyes to show my annoyance. "Needless to say, we talked, fought, laughed, fought, drank...and fought some more. He gave me his phone to keep trying you."

"How...how did you know I was here?" Jon winces when he shifts in the seat, "I've been trying to disappear. From everywhere..."

"Matt," I answer with a shrug. "You know he likes to keep tabs on us. He saw your phone turn on. Damn it, I need to call him back too and tell him I found you."

"Fuck!" Jon swore softly, "How come he was looking for my phone?" Before he got my answer though, his eyes droop and I squeeze his fingers in reassurance.

"Matt? It's D...I found him. When did you last you actually saw Jon?"

"Thank fuck!" Matt breathes a sigh of relief over the line, "Umm probably the day after your clusterfuck of a vacation...why?"

"He's...well...he's a little rough looking..."

"What? Like he hasn't cleaned his teeth?"

I hold up my cell camera and snap a photo of the sleeping Jon, sent it to Matt and wait for his response. "More like that..."

"Jesus fuck! Are you sure that's Jon?"

"I'd know his eyes anywhere. Look I'm taking him back to my hotel suite. Get him shaved and showered. Jon needs a doctor but the last thing I wanna do is draw unwanted attention. Can you see if there's a doctor willing to come to the hotel and examine Jon?"

"Er...yeah. Yeah, will do," Matt agrees, "Do I wanna know why he needs a doctor?"

"Just for once in your life trust me on this one," I snap back, "Shit...sorry Matty. Let me talk to him when he's awake and the doctor's seen him okay?"

"C'mon man, he's my--" I punch the End Call button, hands shaking and the gears in my head grinding.

Lucky for us, the hotel parking was a private garage and the elevators were readily accessible. I held Jon in my arms and rode the lift, his eyes fluttering at the bright lights.

"Almost there, Jonny. Just hold tight."

I set him on his feet and fiddle with the key card. The suite is warm and bathed in orange light. Relaxing in normal circumstances. I sit Jon on the bathroom chair and try not to vomit as I peel off his ratty, smelly clothing.

Those immediately get thrown in a trash bag and tied up. His chest is scarred and bloody. I take up my electric shaver and hack away carefully at the entanglement of hair, head, and face. He sits there and watches me work, tears falling as I handle him.

"Why?"

"Why what, Jonny?"

"Why are you here?"

I hesitate as I finish shaving his face and sit back on my heels, looking up into his eyes. "Because I was wrong, Jonny."