Another Five Years

If I Needed Someone

*Autumn 1994, Seattle, Washington*

The last remaining demos were rattling around in the glove box of his car as he pulled up to the club. The marquee announcing the featured band's last show was the only light in the parking lot as he slipped through the back door, tipping his hat back just a bit to use his face as a backstage pass. He snagged a beer from a table and wiped the neck with his dirty shirt, finding a spot in the shadows to watch the support band fall apart beneath the stage lights. 

Live music was just becoming tolerable again, but it still stung to hear loud guitars and crashing drums. Everything was still so fresh, like a recent case of road rash that had finally become tolerable if he stood still, but burned whenever he moved. The support band slunk off stage to the cheers of just a few people, probably drunken friends and girlfriends. The house lights went up and the crowd began to mill towards the bar, giving Dave a chance to find a better spot near the stage. He nursed his beer and examined the gear on stage when he noticed the venue had another level above, a loft that overlooked the stage with what appeared to be its own bar. Rather than risk being noticed in the pit, he located the stairs and, once again only having to nod at the bouncer, stayed close to the wall as he walked up. 

The loft was about half full of people that were obviously family and friends of Sunny Day Real Estate. Parents and girlfriends, maybe some siblings and a couple kids running around with sodas even though it was well past ten at night. Feeling like he was intruding, he started to head back to the steps but the house lights fell and the band took the stage. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and watched, finishing off his beer as they played through the first few songs. The band played Seven, one of two songs Dave knew, then stopped so the lead could address the crowd. He thanked several people before taking a deep breath and Dave knew what was coming. He shoved off the wall and stalked to the bar, ordering a straight whiskey and pounding it back before asking for another. He sat with his head down, listening to the lead drone on about Kurt and what he meant to the band, to the movement, to the city and the world when he felt a soft hand on his wrist. Gritting his teeth, he hoped the curtain of his hair would hide who he was.

"Hey," Anna said softly, keeping her hand on his when he jumped at the familiar sound. "This is new," she brushed her thumb over the Bonham tattoo on his right wrist. It wasn't new, he just hadn't seen her in almost five fucking years. Between the sight of her and whatever the frontman was mumbling about Kurt, he felt himself fall apart. He bit back a sob, but couldn't fight the tears and he ducked his head again to hide from her. "Come on," she whispered, tugging on his arm. He stood and followed her through a back door into a harshly lit fire exit. 

"Oh, David," she said gently, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "I'm so sorry, kitten."

He threw his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, letting the sobs rack his body for the first time since his life had fallen apart. Everyone had told him he needed to cry, or vent, or hit something, he just needed to emote before he was eaten from the inside out. He had tried but nowhere, no one, nothing felt safe enough to break himself down to his lowest form. Something in Anna made him feel like it was okay to let go. She was the ultimate comfort, a safe and familiar place where he could collapse. She held him tightly, stroking his hair and letting him soak the sleeve of her black shirt. He swore and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, trying to laugh it all off, but he saw she was crying as well. 

"I was so worried about you," she said quietly.

He only shrugged, unable to take his eyes off of her. She looked just as beautiful as when he left her in the hotel years before. She wore a plaid skirt with a cropped black shirt and knee-high boots, looking every bit the 24-year-old rocker chick he thought she would. He shifted his hands to hold her head and roughly kissed her, following her when she backed herself against the wall. There was no hesitation or reluctance on either of their parts, just a frantic scramble to undo various buckles and zippers, but time stood still the moment she guided him into her and her sigh mixed with his groan.

"David," she whispered as he kissed the edges of her mouth. Only people that knew him before called him David, everyone else called him Dave. It was another shortcut, another fast-paced way to earn a couple extra bucks to add to the massive stack that he already had. He wanted to go back. Back to Virginia, back to her, back to when life was simple and normal without lawyers and managers and journalists and without the devastation that Seattle now represented to him. She kissed him and rolled her hips, trying to gain some friction between them and he pressed her harder into the wall. The frantic pace returned, both of them worried that someone would try to find respite from the band by finding their hiding place. His hand found hers and their fingers wove together, both of them ignoring the faint click of their rings when he pushed them against the wall near her head. She moved against him, obviously more experienced than the last time they were together and held him tightly until the very last moment. The wave broke over her with a cry and he kissed her softly as she came down, though he wasn't far behind.

"Anna...," he gasped, tangling his fingers in her dark hair.

"I'm right here," she whispered, pressing her lips to his jaw as he spilled inside of her.