Rain
WARNING: CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT
Title : Rain
Pairing: Eminem/Kim
Summary: Em and Kim are trying work things out, meanwhile- fourteen year old Lily Rayne has problems of her own.AUTHOR'S NOTES: I will NOT be address Kim's niece who is supposedly living with them. For the purposes of this, she doesn't exist in their home permanently. 1) I don't want to complicate things MORE. 2) Some sources say her name is Amy others say it's Aidan. 3) I'm the author and it's my right! It's fanfic! :-) I will *also* not really be addressing Nathan *too* much. He may pop up- but he's not living with them either. ALSO I am assuming the book "Cleanin' Out My Closet" is a load of crap since that's what the man himself said. So any information J.R. Watkins said about Kim or Em and their relationship does not apply here.
ONE MORE THING!!! This fiction is color coded for ease of reading since there are three main characters!! Anytime you see (------), it means time has passed. Here's the KEY:
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++++++++"Daddy?"
I turn toward the door as I finish tyin' my sneaker. "What up, Hai?"
"Do ya *gotta* go?"
"Yes, Hai. I have to."
"Can I come?" She asks. Fuck, if only I *could*, but- I don't- as much as I'd love to have her on the road wit' me and everywhere- it's not way for a child to be raised, especially *my* child.
"Baby, you *know* you-"
"Dammit, Daddy!"
"HEY! Watch the cussin'!"
"*Daddy*," she protests. "I *want* to go!"
"You can't. You're gonna stay here with Mommy." Shit- she always does this and she *knows* the answer's gonna be no, but she always asks and it breaks my heart every time.
"You're always *leav*ing!"
"Hey! I was here all summer, wasn't I?"
"Yeah and *gone* half the time!" Dan it. She crosses her arms in full pout mode.
"Well, excuse *me*, Miss Spoiled *Brat*. Ya know other people's parents work *way* more than me 'n' mom.
"Yeah, well other people's parents can take 'em to the movies. And *you* *can't*!"
*********
"HAILIE!" He shouts. "That's ENOUGH! Go to your room!"
"But Daaaad-"
"*GO*!" He orders and she stomps out of room and sees me standing here in the hallway.
"Mommy, Daddy was-"
"HEY!" He yells from the doorway. "Don't go to your mother to get around me ya little snot. *Go* to your *room*!"
"I *hate* you!" she yells at him with fire in her eyes before stomping off and slamming the door behind her.
He's *devastated*. That's the first time I think she's ever *said* that.
Shit. The look on his face is just- if I weren't so damn furious at him, I'd hug him. But still- "Marsh-"
"Don't fuckin' start," he snarls.
FINE. Asshole. I *won't*.
And I would go downstairs but- I wanted to change quick so I walk into our bedroom where he's still packing.
"And you're still pissed, huh?" He asks, glancing at me. I don't answer. "Prolly wouldn't even *listen* to me 'fi had sumin' to say so I won't waste my fuckin' breath."
"Maybe you shouldn't." DAMMIT. I wasn't supposed to *say* that! I was supposed to say 'I'm listening *now*' or 'I'll listen'. But- FUCK. Old habits are hard to break and pride is a hard thing to overcome.
"*Fine*," he growls. "And fuck *you*. When *you're* sittin' lonely in some fuckin' house watchin' me 'n' my new girlfriend, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."
++++++++
Fuck. Why do *say* that shit?
But now it's too late. It's out there and like everything in our fucked up relationship, things are about to get *way* out of control.
"Well, you go and have fun then, I wouldn’t wanna *stop* you, would I? But I doubt you'll *ever* find someone who won't mind bein' with a complete *loser* whose own *kid* hates him."
DAMN BITCH!
"Better than bein' wit' a no good *slut*." FUCK. We get this way and we can't ever stop ourselves. SHIT. It's like watchin' reruns of all our worst moments and we're too stupid to stop it. Or we can't stop it or don't want to. I don't know.
"You fucking bastard," she says with tears threatening her eyes. I gotta stop this NOW. I gotta apologize *quick* and tell her I love her and will do anything she wants with the tattoo because- "Ya wanna know what I a slut I am? Fine. Dylan ain't even *yours*."
What?!
*********
WHAT?
"*What*?" He snarls.
"I am whatever you say I am," I spit back at him. Shit. "And you were all fuckin' excited to, but I *really* gotcha good this-"
"SHUT up," he growls. "*Stop* this. You're *lying*."
God dammit. I AM. *FUCK*! Why do we *do* this?
"Am I?" I question and his phone rings. It's the driver. The limo is waiting and they're already running late for their flight. FUCK!
He hangs up and just shakes his head. "Fuck it," he says and grabs his bag and leaves. God, what have I done?
I run out to catch him on the stairs. FUCK. I gotta at least- I don't- tell him I love him? *Not* let him leave thinkin' that-
I find him in the hallway knockin' on Hailie's door.
"Hailie? Can I please come in?"
"NO!"
"Hai- I gotta go now and I wanna give you a kiss."
"Go away!" She yells through the door.
"Baby," he pleads desperately. "I *love* you, Hai, please-"
Then the door opens and her eyes are all red and puffy from crying. Her shirt is soaked and she's sniffling too. "Don't *leave*, Daddy," she whispers softly.
"Hailie, I got to. I gotta work."
"I HATE YOU!" She shrieks and slams the door again.
He turns toward me and Christ. His eyes are just- defeated. Just like they used to be after his mom tore him down. Shit.
"Might as *well* leave since no one *here* loves me," he mutters and grabs his bag. He starts to walk by me and I reach out and touch his forearm. He freezes.
God at least *some* part of my body will try and stop this.
"*What*?" He asks, his voice filled with venom and fear.
No, Marsh. I'm *not* gonna knock you down again. I *hope*. I take his hand and place it over our baby. "He's yours," I whisper softly. God *please* believe me!
"I know she is," he states and his phone starts ringing again. They're waiting.
His hand lingers on my stomach for a second before he leaves.
At least I did *that* right.
~~~~~~~~
Shit. I just gotta make it to the weekend and I'll get caught up and things will be okay again. Shit.
I hear a knock on the door. "It's open!"
"Hey, Girlie!" Mary greets me.
"Hi. What's up?"
"Wanna go to Starbucks with us?"
"No. I can't. I got a shit load of stuff to get done."
"Lily, is there… I mean, can I help?"
I put my pencil down and turn my chair to the bed where she's sitting. "No. It's just- shit. I don't hardly have time to get stuff done at home. It's like- I can't get stuff done on the plane and I get there and Jess is all over me and like the weekend flies by and then I'm coming back here with so much to do that I stay up all Sunday night and-"
"Why don't you come to *my* house this weekend, Lily? Mom keeps the brat away from me and it's a way shorter flight and the same time zone. I'm sure Mom won't mind."
Shit. I just- "I think I'm just gonna stay here like Bri said. That way I don't have any flight and I can just be here and get a bit of sleep and I'll have three days to get stuff done. Ya know?"
"Okay. But if you change your mind-"
"I know. Thanks."
"No Starbucks?"
"Thanks, but-"
"Want me to bring you back something?"
"Nah. I'm good. Thanks, Mary."
She gets up and heads to the door. "Lil?"
"Yeah?"
"When I first got into the fulltime schedule here, I nearly killed myself. But… it comes together."
"Thanks, Mary."
She leaves and I turn back to my book. I gotta get my reading for history done and I have no freakin' clue when I'm going to write my other five papers- but I'm hoping to use the vacations to get them out of the way. Right now I'm just trying to survive.
<Ring. Ring.>
Shit.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Lily, how's it going, Sweetie?"
"Hi, Marcie. It's… good. I guess."
"You wanted a call back?"
"Yeah- I… I'm not gonna come home this weekend. The flight just- I have too much to get done."
"Okay. That's… fine. Ya know- I know it's not easy with Jessie. Don't feel obligated to come every weekend, Lily."
"I know."
We talk for a little more and I just- it's like when I'm there, I feel like- like I don't belong. And Miami? Whether there *sucks*. It's too freakin' warm and cheery all the time.
But when I'm there, it's like I'm not- I know they love me and I love them too, but- it feels wrong. I'm out of place there. Maybe it's stupid, but- I feel like I don't really have a home right now. Like… that *should* be home, but it's not.
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++++++++"Gimme that again, Dre."
"What? The bass?"
"Yeah- only gimme more on the down beat."
"Like this?"
"Yeah," I say and sit back in the chair. "Perfect."
"Um, Em?"
"What?"
"Doncha think it's… kinda… I don't know… soft?"
"Huh?"
"Ya know… sorta… girly?"
Shit. What can I say? I'm thinkin' 'bout my girls and this is sumin' Hailie would like.
"Well, this is what I'm feelin', so ya got a problem wit' dat?"
"Naw, Dawg. 'Sall good. I just- what's goin' on? You fight?"
"What else is new?! She gave me the ring back 'n' I called her- among other things- a slut."
"Fuck man, you stupid?"
Apparently, I must be.
*********
I am obscenely stupid.
And now *every* one is paying for it.
"Hai, you wanna color with me?"
"No," she says, staring out the window. This is all she did yesterday too.
"We could watch a movie?"
"No," she shakes her head and sighs.
"Hailie Jade," I say sternly and shift Whitney to my other arm. She cuddles into me and murmurs "Mama" softly.
"Hailie, listen to me. It's eleven o'clock and you moped around all afternoon yesterday. You're not gonna do that today. You won't talk about what's bothering you so it seems to me you're just acting like a spoiled brat because your father told you 'no'. So you can do one of two things. You can either get over it and come play with Whit and me outside and have fun or you can sit up here until Daddy comes home and be spoiled and alone. But I'm not gonna come back up here again and I'm not gonna watch you sigh and mope around the house. Daddy has to work. Get over it."
There. Tough love.
And I hate it, but-
She just sits for a minute. "Are you comin' outside?"
"No."
"Fine."
Fine. She's upset. I'm upset. He's upset-
"Morning!" Nate greets me happily. Well great. Nate's the only one *not* upset. Bully for him.
"Nay-Nay!" Whitney smiles.
"Hey, Squirt. Wanna fly?"
"Pane! Pane!"
He scoops her out of my arms and swings her around (carefully) and she just giggles.
"So- I gather from the fact that he hasn't called every hour that you fightin'?"
"Not now," I tell him. I'm just- not in the mood.
"Aiight. I'm goin' over to Dave's house. Be back later."
"Don't do nuthin' stupid!" I say because that's what you're supposed to do but- I don't really worry about him too too much. I think he learned from Marshall's mistakes. I *hope*.
"Kay."
Shit. Ya know before- Marsh and I- well- this is how we fight. This is what we do. We aim for the jugular and I can *not* believe I said that about Dylly. I mean- that was the lowest of the low.
I mean- I think I have some grounds here. As a girlfriend, it's one thing, but as his wife, on our honeymoon I don't wanna have his dick in my mouth and be reading that I should rot in pieces. That's just not my idea of romantic. Is that so wrong?
I mean- I kinda thought he'd take care of this on his own. But no- he'll be with me but still wants his fans hating me. I mean- I know I ain't their favorite person because I get to kiss him and fuck him and they can't. That's why they hate me. But Christ! You'd think- shit. I get over the songs- the lyrics- they're words, for show, we dealt with them. But this isn't part of his career- it's- fuck. Whether on purpose or not, it *hurts*.
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++++++++"FUCK!" Dre says through the mic. "That was- shit!"
I step out of the booth and fuck. I need some water. I chug about a half a bottle of water before lookin' at him. "Well?"
"That was *tight*."
"Thank you."
"You gonna- 'zat for the album?"
"Nah, Man. I don't know. Seems I got a whole… Kim-centered album goin' here. Did I send you the *other* one?"
"No, what?"
"Called 'Lament'. I'll send you a copy."
"You don't got it on ya?"
"Nah. 'Sat home wit' her."
"Well, here-" he hands me a copy of the new track. "It's- fuck, Em. This is some 'a your best shit, ya know?"
"Thanks."
"You gonna let her hear I?"
"'A course, I will. It's- I mean- it's *for* *her*. Everything is for her, Man."
I mean- I *love* her.
She's- well… she's *mine*.
And when I go home, things will finally be good again.
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*********"Bed time, Kiddo," I tell her as I walk in with a sandwich. I doubt she'll eat. She didn't eat at all today that I saw. She just stayed up here. "You hungry?" I ask.
"When are we leaving, Mommy?" She asks, barely audibly.
"What?" I place the plate on her nightstand and sit next to her on the bed.
"When are we *leaving*?"
"Are we goin' somewhere, Girlie?" I ask, tucking her hair behind her ear. I just- hate seeing her heart so sad.
"We're leaving Daddy."
"What? Why do you say that?"
"I *know* you're fighting again and we always leave when you fight," she says before turning to me. "But I don't *wanna* go, Mommy. I like us living with Daddy all the time. I like you and Daddy getting married."
Shit.
"Hailie, is that why you didn't want Daddy to leave yesterday?"
"Daddy wouldn't let us go if he was here."
"Well, we're not gone, are we?"
"Why you gotta fight, Mommy? Things were good 'n' what about Lily?"
Fuck. She's near hysterics now. "Hailie, Sweetie, stop this now. Okay? Me and Daddy fight sometimes is all. 'Member? We make each other crazy as much as we love each other?"
"But- you don't have the promise ring on anymore."
Fuck. She's smart.
"Hailie, there's just- this is just some grown up stuff Daddy and I have to work out before I put it back on. Okay?"
"But we're not leaving?"
How can I- I can't *promise* that. I mean- I was serious. I just-
"Not right now, okay? I think we'll work it out."
"But you're not sure," she sighs.
"I don't know, Baby. Okay? I promise I'll work *really* hard. Okay?"
She nods and I hold her tight. I guess I was- refusing to talk to him *was* stupid. I'll admit that.
"I told Daddy I hate him," she says, clutching my shirt.
"He knows you didn't mean it."
"But I *said* it, Mommy. I lied. Twice."
"It's okay. We'll make it better, Baby. I promise."
Author: crazyevildru@yahoo.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.