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Adjusting	By : Bia Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Eminem/Marshall Mathers Views: 7351 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Eminem (Marshall Mathers). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
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- 15
Sunday morning found Marshall in the kitchen, putting away the few things he'd picked up at the Wal-mart on their way in. He paused taking in the large open area, remembering it had been a big factor in his decision to buy it. He'd always envisioned big family dinners, cooked right here during the holidays. Of course he wouldn't admit that to save his life.

Still, even when things had become so bad between him and Kim he couldn't help outfitting the place. Only two other people had ever been here, Proof and Kim. He'd brought her out here for a weekend when he'd first gotten it, then later Proof when he'd thought about selling it. Proof had talked him out of it, more or less; had said after all the trouble he went through might as well keep it as a hideaway. Now, it was just for him and Hailie.

He shoved the few perishables he'd picked up from the corner store into the fridge. Sometime later today or tomorrow, he thought, he'd have to go grocery shopping for real. Hailie would only go for so long without her cocoa.

He glanced over at his baby girl, sitting at the island. Bed-head hung over her cereal bowl. She looked up eyes still sleepy. He grinned, and she rolled her eyes. "Hey, Hailie baby," he said, sitting down across from her. She paused mid slurp. "It's not just you and me out here this time."

Hailie nodded once. She'd seen the man asleep in the backseat last night. "Who is he daddy?"

"Mr. Chasez," he paused. "A friend of Daddy's. He feels bad. We're going to give him a place to get better." He was not about to go into what was wrong with Chasez with his girl. She'd had a hard enough life as it was. He made a note to lay down the ground rules of behavior around his child when Chasez woke up.

Hailie frowned. "Bad like mommy," she asked, remembering how her mother sometimes acted. It wasn't nice.

Marshall shook his head. "No, honey. His friend's have been mean to him. So he's sad." Fucking Timberfuck.

Hailie's eyes narrowed, a hard little scowl making it's way onto her face. Marshall was reminded once again how much she looked like him. "Like those kids at daycare?" She gave a little kitten growl.

Hailie remembered how mean they had been when she'd first started. They'd made fun of the way she talked. Said nasty things about her just cause she wasn't from stupid ol' Los Angles. Until Aisha had given the biggest one such a sock. She grinned as the kid's cry echoed in her memory.

"Yeah, baby. Kinda like that," he said, trying to hide his own grin. Knowing the incident she was talking about. Dre hadn't known whether to be proud or furious that his youngest daughter had gotten in trouble Hailie's first day there. He'd settled on proud but disappointed. He'd praised Aisha for standing up for her friend, but grounded her for starting the fight.

"We'll take care of Mr. Chasez like Aisha did me," she said firmly. Blond head bobbing seriously as if her word were law. Marshall grinned again at his baby. She was such a little Em.

The day passed quickly, Marshall aired the place out as Hailie watched television. He kept an ear out for sounds of life from his guest as he cleaned. None came until late afternoon, early evening. He heard movement, as he lay on the couch with Hailie. So the dead wakes, he thought, shifting Hailie off his lap. She grabbed a pillow and went back to Barney.

Making his way into the kitchen, he flicked on the coffee maker. Pulled open the cabinet by the fridge, grabbed the Tylenol^TM, and a mug. Setting them on the counter, he pulled open the fridge and got a bottle of water. After gathering a few more things he headed upstairs.

JC felt like death warmed over. He was also certain he'd gone insane. 'Cause he had the vaguest recollection of leaving a club with Eminem. He grimaced at the foulness in his mouth as he sat up slowly. His tongue tasted like the back end of a cat, and was twice as fuzzy. He forced heavy lids up, wincing at the light, even as low as it was. He tensed taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. This was not his hotel room. Had he gone with? No. While he barely remembered Em, he sure as hell wouldn't have left with him. So who the fuck did he leave with? And had they...

JC took stock of his body, then breathed a sigh of relief. Aside from the bruises, he studiously wasn't thinking about, there wasn't anything new. He glanced around, moaning in relief when he spotted the glass of water and the sadly familiar Vicodin tablet on the nightstand. He murmured a thank you to his pick up, grabbing up both like a lifesaver. He downed the pill, and finished off the water in three long swallows. He wondered where he was. It didn't look like any hotel he'd ever been in. Maybe a bed and breakfast. He hoped whoever his mysterious benefactor was, was discreet. He should probably get up, and find out. Just as he made to do that, there was a knock on the closed door. Then it swung open.

"Holy fucking shit," screeched JC, lunging to his feet. At least that was his intention. As tangled in the blankets as he was he only succeeded in knocking himself to the floor. That's it. No more alcohol for me. Not when it leads to memory loss. And Eminem.

Marshall watched the spectacle as JC struggled like a landed fish on the bedroom floor. He snickered, setting the tray down, before crossing the room.

JC had quite struggling shortly after he'd started. His head was throbbing, and every bruised part of him ached. Somewhere some higher deity was laughing its ass off.

Marshall rolled his eyes, and then offered his hand. He waited until Chasez nodded, before helping to extricate him carefully. "Calm the fuck down." Marshall said backing up once he’d help the kid to his feet. Giving him space.

JC collapsed warily onto the bed, desperately trying to remember last night. All he came up with was a big fat nothing. Only thing he could remember was the dark club. Too many people. The shadows creeping up on him.

Marshall watched the kid try to figure out what was going on. It was just his luck the kid didn't remember anything. He could see the next few minutes were going to be loads of fun. Best to lay the ground rules now. "You're at my place. My daughter's here. While you're here you will behave like a civilized person around Hailie. That means no cursing. No getting loud around her. You wanna yell and curse, you do it when she ain't around. Or up to hear."

JC nodded slowly, brain trying desperately to comprehend the situation. How in the hell had he gotten from the Viper room to Eminem's? Something wasn't right about this. Had his life really spun so out of control? "How did I get here?"

Marshall sighed; he'd been hoping the kid would remember on his own. But then again, he'd killed three bottles of Jack Daniels. "Justin."

For a second JC's mind was blank. Then yesterday came flooding back. His stomach rolled, and he hunched over. A basket was suddenly shoved into his arms just as he hurled.

Marshall sighed watching the puking kid. When he was done, he handed him a few wet wipes.

JC took them, silently wiping at his mouth. Marshall handed over the bottle of water. He rinsed and spit. Thoughts whirling as he wondered how much he'd told the man. Not that it would have taken much. God, he so could not deal with this right now. Not when every time he thought...

JC hunched over the basket again, dry heaving.

Marshall watched him.

"I..." JC trailed off. He had no idea what to say.

Marshall decided to take pity on him. "Look, I know you have to have a motherfucker of a hangover. Explanations can wait until later," he said, handing over the mug of coffee.

JC took it with a grateful look. For the coffee and the leeway. He sipped slowly at the black brew. Not meeting the steady gaze, he could feel fixed on him.

Marshall recognized the look of obstinate blindness. He'd give the kid some time to deal on his own first. "Like I said last night the room's yours. Has it's own bathroom, and a lock on the door. Though I reserve the right to kick the fucker in if I think you're doing something as stupid as killing yourself."

"I wouldn't," protested JC, faintly. Hands clutching the cup with a sort of desperateness.

Marshall snorted. "Yeah, okay. Anyway, come down when you start to feel human." He stood. JC flinched and Marshall's gaze narrowed. A spark of memory flared as Em's voice rang in his thoughts. Knock that shit off. He remembered the unuttered vow to try. "Thanks," he said, softly.

Marshall nodded, then left closing the door behind him.

JC finished the coffee, and the slices of toast. Just to have something on his stomach. He swallowed the Tylenol^TM Em had left on the tray, kicked off his jeans then curled back beneath the covers.

Hailie decided she wanted tacos for dinner. Seeing as there wasn't anything vaguely resembling that in the cupboards, Marshall decided now was as good a time as any to go grocery shopping.

After getting Hailie dressed, he paused at the bottom of the stairs. "Chasez, I'm headed out. Ya' want anything?" He waited for a few moments, leaving with a shrug when all he got was silence. Kid was probably dead to the world again.

JC heard Em but couldn't work up the energy to answer. He was too busy trying to hold the memories at bay.

Carrying Hailie inside first, he settled her on the couch. It took him twenty minutes to get the food in and put up. Grabbing the bag he'd set on the table when he'd first come in he carried it upstairs. He knocked, then tried the knob when there was no answer. In the moonlight, he could see the unnaturally still shape on the bed. He knew the kid was awake.

"Hey," he said quietly to alert the man to his presence. "Hailie and I got food. I didn't know what you liked but I figured your stomach wouldn't be up for much. So, I got you a salad." He set it and another bottle of water on the near nightstand. "Night."

JC relaxed as Em spoke. Wary but willing to give the older man the benefit of the doubt. "Night," he replied, whisper soft.

Marshall left with a pleased smile, edging at the corners of his mouth.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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