Aubrey (Revolving With Axis)

145: Rafe

"Ben, will you tell Holli to get Aubrey new clothes?" he nodded, blinked and sidled to the door that had recently closed behind us.

"You want water?" Levi asked too normally. I nodded and he tossed me a bottled water.

"Baby you want water?" She shook her head, but did not look up or uncover her face.

"Are you sure we're up for this?" Jeremy asked, his face pale, his hair matted on one side due to a slight cut from falling debris. I knew we all looked awful.

Jeremy was the worst looking, his clothes were torn, blood on his head and above his eye, smeared. His expression was tense and anxious. He now stood against the door, as if holding it closed. Levi sat on one of the plush chairs, his jeans torn, his eyes haunted, his palms drumming on his knees, he didn't look at anyone, but he was agitated. I let my eyes slide to Mutt's. He was staring at me enigmatically, wondering what was next. He wanted to block out the images in his mind as much as I did. I could read that expression clearly. His eyes were deliberately concealing, the brows lowered, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he leaned against the bathroom door. He had a cut on his arm that Aubrey must have bandaged, as it was held in place by a piece of a shirt.

My gaze wandered to Jeff, standing there on his crutches, his leg bent, his face pained.

"You can't play tonight."

He sniffed and wiped his hand under his nose. "You can't keep me off that stage. If you go, Rafe, I go."

There was a knock on the door and Aiden was there, fresh, clean, dressed like security. He stood back while two roadies brought in our instruments, and even set up Levi's drum pad, handing him his sticks. Another guy came in, head lowered and eyes avoiding ours. I stood up quickly.

Aiden assessed the situation. "You guys have about an hour till the sound check, maybe another half an hour after that till the show starts. Conger has agreed to open, and do an extra two songs. That'll give you another half an hour. I arranged not to have the film crew in your faces, although I couldn't get them to postpone. I fired Holli."

My hands had been dropped at my side, and now they were on my thighs. My brows rose. "You fired Holli." It wasn't a question.

He shrugged. "I thought it prudent that she head home with the others who wanted to leave. There were only a few, but Holli was the most vocal—stridently vocal—against --- well--- against everything. She is one damn negative bitch."

Every single expression in the room, except Aubrey's flashed in incredulous awe. And just like that, everyone burst into gut wrenching laughter.

"Who is gonna be stage manager in her---- ." Laughter, more tense release of laughter.

"You have that Allen, the laid back, kind of dumpy guy? He's more efficient than all of us. Getter done guy. Behind the scenes, guy."

"Perfect." I sat back down next to Aubrey, and I saw Aiden's eyes travel to her huddled figure.

"You dealing with that?" He jerked his head softly.

"I am." I said, though I had no idea what to do right now except leave her alone, and be here for her.

Aiden indicated the extra guy who had come in. "This is Alvaro Bartoli, a trained grief counselor. He is here to work with you. I highly recommend you do the initial group therapy before you go on tonight. It is a scientific fact that grief managed within the first six hours of the incident can forestall PTSD majorly. I actually insist that you do this. As a group..."

"I need a shower." Ben announced swinging his head back and forth slowly.

"We all do."

"I need to make a set list. I need your input." I replied. One by one they nodded.