OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

sixty-seven.

"Things are different now, aren't they?" she asked.

Dave got to his feet and paced the room, massaging his chin between his fingers. He was calculating, obviously trying to find a way to put the bad situation out of both their mind. Reagan knew that he didn't want to think about it, let alone discuss it. It was all part of the drama he professed to despise.

"Like I said, I'm the drummer. I'm going to do my job, as long as I still have one."

"It's sad," Reagan said faintly. "It feels like just yesterday I was up on stage with them, helping them out on that night when they needed me. And now I know things are different, but I can't even pinpoint how. It's like I just showed up and walked in on the wrong band or something."

"Am I different?" Dave asked. He dropped down to his knees and placed his hands on Reagan's thighs, wearing a serious and determined expression. "Have I changed?"

"No, but —,"

"Exactly. You don't need to worry about anyone else but me, Reagan. You, me, us. The baby. That's it."

"But Kurt and Krist are my friends. I've been here from the start."

"I know you have. This isn't the same as before, though. It's not just one long jam session in Olympia anymore."

"I don't even want to ask for the details behind what you're saying."

Dave released his grip on Reagan's thighs and stood to envelop her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. He rocked her in his arms and she closed her eyes, feeling caught in the middle of some altered state of reality. These were the times when she remembered that no one around her, nothing around her, was normal anymore.

"All I'm asking is that you not worry about anything. I know you love Krist, and I know you love Kurt. I know you care about the band. But you're right, things are different Reags. And they're out of your control."

"I feel like I'm about to be a bystander to an awful train-wreck or something," she murmured.

"Don't think that way," Dave urged. "Think about the next few months that we have planned together. Think about Gracie. She's gonna' be here soon and she's gonna' need us."

"You're apart of what's happening between you guys whether you like it or not," Reagan pointed out. "It's not like we can hide out in the apartment and pretend that you're not in the band."

"And that's for me to deal with. It's my burden to bear."

"And so it's mine too," Reagan said sadly. "Because you are a part of me."

Dave sighed. He continued to hold Reagan closer, smoothing his hands down the length of her hair as a silence consumed them both. Reagan tried to get into his head, imagining what it was like to be him. It must have been hard trying to explain his role in the whole situation to someone he loved so dearly and who was destined to worry about him until the end of time. She could see the lines he was trying to draw in the sand, the distinctions between his family and his work. His need for control was giving itself away and she presumed that it would be unfair to deny him the comfort that yes, he could return to her, his home, and not have to think about Nirvana in doing so.

"I'll butt out," she said. She resisted gritting her teeth. Never before had she sworn to butt out of anything; usually she was the one ring-leading the fastest solution. "If it makes you happy."

"You don't have to butt out," Dave countered. "Just . . . try not to stress about it, okay? Yeah, I know, this is my life now. But you're my life, too. I want that still. I want to be able to go back to Seattle with you and not think about this shit. I want to think about the fact that we're having a baby."