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the-deepestbluesareblack-fanfic · 7 years ago

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CHAPTER (42) FORTY-TWO

Well, hello. If anyone is actually here to read this, thank you.

Wednesday

August 14th, 1997

Cologne, Germany

Dave could hardly recall the events of yesterday. All he could remember was the grand blur of chugging coffee, racing to the airport in a caffeinated daze and landing on a cushioned seat in first class with a mop of giddy blond hair. Speaking in random slurs he can’t possibly recall from a mixture of melatonin still in his system and a downward spiral of a sugar high, he closed his eyes and didn’t register what or where he was.

He was in Germany and a day later, in his present day whirlwind, he just got off stage and played to one of the greatest German crowds in months. The enthusiasm and the yelling. Sweaty bodies rubbing and bumping against each other. Cries and smiles from blurry faces. It was a feeling Dave will never and could never put into the simplest words. It’s just a whole ‘nother world out there, he would always humbly say. You’d have to experience it to know.

But he was backstage, still running with a buzz that hung above his head, below his belt, down his arms and legs, and sent shivers up his spine. It was the adrenaline that could have him riding on this musical high until the next morning. He loved it though. He lived and walked the bare Earth for that mind numbing exhilaration. And, he didn’t just see it in himself. He saw it in everyone backstage. He saw it in his bandmates, in his friends, and crew. The show gave everyone a buzz. He lived for that.

Thankfully, the night wasn’t nearly over. It was simply getting started, they were in Europe for Christ sakes! It was Germany! None of the guys in the band even planned on going back to their hotel rooms and Dave wasn’t going to be the only one to do so. He had been to Europe countless times, but a successful night on stage in a country that is still completely foreign to him causes for a random act of celebration! Like every night in Europe has been for the Foo Fighters.

With four buzzing bodies piling into an SUV, yells falling from their mouths and their drinks grasped tightly to their hands, Taylor gave directions to where their requested destination and the car came to life, causing a sea of fans to spread out to make the road visible once again.

Dave felt a firm slap on the back from his sloshy friend Taylor, hollering in his face, “First show in Europe, so many more to fucking go! Parties, girls - this is gonna be the fucking best!”

“No, Taylor, no girls,” Nate lightly chuckled beside Dave, shaking his head and continuing to sip from his can of beer. Nate “The Saint” was always one to keep it classy and let himself have a good time with a few beers and his closest pals. Unlike Taylor, who was never too scared to roll in anyone’s mud.

“Oh, that’s right. You and D are in love with your women, I forgot,” Taylor scuffed, but even Dave could hear and feel the many ounces of pain that were circulating Taylor’s mind, heart and bones. “Well, I plan to have some fun with a few ladies while I’m here.”

“And we expected more coming from you,” Pat joked with his always sassy eye roll and a quick inhale from his cigarette.

Dave was yet to speak more than five words to his bandmate about his own personal ordeal that went on only an hour before the show even began. Dave once experienced a phone call break up, but he was the one making the call not receiving it. Behind Taylor story, he only got broken up with about three hours ago. How he was handling it? The simplest way he could. Replacing an important lady with a lady he would never see again.

Dave wanted to reassure his pal that everything was going to be okay again, but Dave couldn’t foresee the future. Hell, Dave should be the last person in the vehicle to turn to Taylor and give him relationship advice. He couldn’t even call his girlfriend to ask her what the hell she has hidden from him. Taylor would only see Dave’s words as a joke, as he should because Dave did too.

What seemed like five seconds, when it was possibly longer or shorter - Dave wouldn’t know - the car hilted to a stop, the car turning off with the twist of a key.

“Ready to fucking party boys!?” Taylor yelled and without a response from anyone in the car, he lept out the door and was quickly submerged and gone in a great mass of people.

“You gotta talk to him man,” he heard Nate say from behind him. “That guy’s gonna explode.”

An hour before the show

Dave had a handy cell phone with him for months now, maybe longer, but what would he know about something he hardly knew how to use? Megan always contacted him through his house phone, never through his cellphone and to this day, he still didn’t even know how to turn it off and on. It was down to a complicated science.

Taylor on the other hand, had his cell phone pressed to his ear almost every second of the day. Who he was talking to? That was beyond Dave to know. He always gave random girls his number and he never knew for what reason because Dave never saw those girls again, and he was positive Taylor never did either.

So, as he sat with his small, portable contraption at his fingertips, twiddling it around, wondering if he should give Megan another call just to tell her more than a, “I just landed and I’m at the hotel….I love you, see you in a couple of days.” But he couldn’t. He was still shaking. With the notes and the intruder, God knows his toes were in hysterical shivers.

The show was in an hour and he was hiding away like he used to when Andrew used to roam the halls of random venues. He felt his mere presence, as though he were a ghost from his past, now haunting his present and affecting his future. Only Taylor knew where he was hiding out, and he would enter practically jumping on the very tips of his toes, always enthusiastic about a show. Dave was the same, but not today. Today he felt Taylor was too overly enthusiastic, and it wasn’t a secret to Taylor why Dave’s mood has declined just below the surface of the Earth.

“If it is Andrew, just ignore him. He’s just trying to scare you. He didn’t do anything before to cause you actual harm, what’s he going to do now?” was all Taylor told Dave in short of his comforting words. The only person he could talk to was Megan, but he couldn’t tell her about this. He couldn’t tell her that he went into her office to look for something to pin her as the bad person in this relationship to then telling her that Andrew is possibly trying to blackmail them. Dave knew she could already possibly die of shock.

A soft knock on the door brought Dave back to where he sat, and a slow moving Taylor entered the room and closed the door behind him softly. No jumping up and down, and no glowing smile to match his childlike antics. He sat himself next to Dave, let out a sigh and lit up a cigarette he had sitting behind his ear.

Puffing out the smoke, he turned towards Dave, who broke a new record for not talking to Taylor in hours - nearly the whole day.

“Jesus, buddy. Even when I’m clearly drowning in misery, you can’t even speak up one word about it,” Taylor said. As Dave was about to ask him what was wrong, because a Taylor that isn’t jumping isn’t a normal Taylor, the sad blond spoke up again, “Well I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I just got dumped over a fucking phone call.”

And now Dave’s perfect sphere of loved ones was tumbling down with him. He wasn’t alone - thankfully - but now everyone important in his inner circles were turning their backs on each other. Pat’s leaving the band, Megan is hiding something from Dave, Dave is hiding something from Megan, Margaret broke up Taylor, and Dave couldn’t even imagine what could even happen next.

“Buddy,” Dave croaked out, his throat dried up from not uttering a word all day, but he continued, “I’m sorry, man. I know you really liked her.”

“I did, man. I really did.”

It was back to silence. Dave wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask Taylor why the sudden stop to their relationship was, if it was something he did, or was it Margaret’s indecisiveness in being in a relationship with a musician. Dave couldn’t blame her. Megan ended it once, she had no problem with following in her previous footsteps again. The one of many things that worried Dave.

So, the silence continued, only the loud voices in their minds keeping them up and alert. Their emotions were running around in the air, Dave was surprised they hadn’t wrapped themselves around their necks and choked them to death. Maybe they were waiting to pop in their heads, cause a great commotion of wails and screams. That’ll be the day.

Dave checked his watch. The show was going to start in half an hour. He thought it was best to let his crew and the rest of the band know that he was alive and well, ready to put on the greatest show of their lives. The emotions on and off stage were different, and he was glad those two things could never be conflicted with each other.

He patted Taylor on the shoulder, he was still sitting in silence - shocked silence, “Come on, show starts in thirty minutes.”

Taylor nodded his head and slowly got up, putting his baseball cap back onto his head, but before he either could move towards the door, Taylor’s first words since announcing his sad news were, “The crazy thing is that she sounded so scared to even tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Dave asked.

“To tell me she wanted to break up with me. It was the only thing she told me. She didn’t tell me why. She just told me and hung up,” Taylor explained, so drained of life and emotion.

Dave didn’t know what to say, as he was drained of life and emotion from yesterday as well.

“Come on, let’s go have a drink or something. Get our mind off of these things.”

Virginia

There wasn’t much to be done on a Wednesday night in Virginia for two ladies, so a random scary movie, popcorn and wine to reminisce about the old days was just what Megan and Lisa were going to do for the night. They were ditched by Anna yesterday so she could be with her mother a few nights they were here, and Megan was begged by Anna and her mother to join them as well, but Megan wanted to think of the good ol’ days with Lisa. She missed Ginny and Lisa so much, the few women in her life that showed her the greater good in everything. The reasons she was thankful of Dave being the real man he is.

The few days weren’t going as bad as she had initially thought they would - a regular feeling upon arriving to the very familiar and unfamiliar grounds of Virginia. She got to spend some time with Ginny the night she arrived, devouring all the food she cooked for her and Anna. She always missed Ginny. Even if weeks had passed and she hadn’t spoken to her since visiting California and she hadn’t spoken one word to her since, once she gave her a hug and was welcomed back into her old home, she realized she missed her so much.

Tomorrow she was going to have lunch with her old boss Mark, just the two of them, in his new upscale office that he described to Megan over the phone just a few hours ago. In the past seven years, Mark ended up being the only friend she kept from Virginia. She had a few that she would call in birthdays every year when she got to California, but after the first year, she never heard from any of those people again, only Mark. She gave him a call every year on his birthday, for Christmas and New Year, and he could return the favor on her birthday as well. The last time the pair were face-to-face with each other was two years ago, when Mark took a vacation to Los Angeles for two weeks. Though, at the time, she was with Andrew and him being the type he is, controlled Megan when it came to other males; even if they were old friends for many years. So, she only saw him three days two years ago. They had plenty to catch up on.

But sitting in Lisa’s apartment, sharing stories from there many years apart, was another box to be checked off the list of bittersweet sensations since being with Dave again. And she knew there were going to be many more moments, and she couldn’t wait to experience them all. It gave her a reason to be happy to have him back in her life. It was fairytale-like for her, so unreal that it seemed so perfect and beautiful. She didn’t want to give it up. She wanted to feel this way for many more years.

Lisa nudged Megan with her elbow and slid the empty popcorn bowl towards her.

“It’s your turn to make some,” Lisa replied, sucking butter off her fingers, and keeping her eyes locked onto the television screen.

Megan got up, bowl in hand and happily pranced into the kitchen to make the third bowl of popcorn for the night. It was a much needed feeling of relaxation and no responsibilities that needed to be handled. She missed Dave, of course, but by now, a few days apart only made their days together the greatest. And she would be looking forward to them. A few days in Seattle with two of her and Dave’s closest pals, then a few days running in circles together back home with a day reserved in New York for the MTV Video Music Awards. Her first public appearance with Dave. A moment for the magazines and a moment to not screw up. How refreshing.

She threw the unpopped bag of popcorn into the microwave and let her fingers dance over the buttons to add a time. Leaning against the counter, dozing off into her own thoughts about her present and future with Dave, she hadn’t heard Lisa’s house phone ring or that she had answered it.

“Hey! Megan!”

Slightly jumping from the random burst of alertness, Lisa was waving her arms in the air from where she continued to sit on the floor.

“Y-yeah?” Megan weakly responded, slightly turning red from embarrassment. Being caught off guard was always a shameful moment for her. For some reason she always thought people could easily know what she was thinking.

“Dave’s on the phone for you,” Lisa chuckled, noticing Megan’s uneasiness from getting caught in her daydreams, but she quickly exchanged the reddened look for a smile and pranced her way back to reach the phone from Lisa’s hand.

Pressing into to her ear, she was eager and ecstatic to hear Dave’s hollering voice about how amazing it was to be back on tour, how beautiful the sea of German people singing and dancing along to their songs were, and how much he loved doing what he did. So, with as much enthusiasm as she could carry in her voice she spoke, “Hey, how was the show tonight?”

She re-entered the kitchen, not wanting to disturb Lisa who seemed highly focused on the poor film that was playing on the screen.

“It was a, uh- It was a good show,” Dave responded. When Dave failed to elaborate pass those few words, Megan’s back stiffened against the refrigerator she was leaning on. She heard many chattering voices in the background, even a far distant cry of thumping music. He clearly wasn’t in his hotel room, where he would usually give her a call after the show.

“What are you guys up to?” He proceeded to ask, and the lack of any emotion was so clear to Megan, she couldn’t form a sentence to answer his question.

“We’re just-” she paused for a second, the blaring beeps from the microwave bringing her back into Lisa’s kitchen, smelling popcorn that was overly cooked and burned black all the way through. “We’re just watching a movie, and I just burned the popcorn.”

“Oh, alright,” was all he said, almost as though he didn’t hear what Megan just told him. The usual, upbeat Dave would have laughed at Megan burning a simple bag of popcorn and calling her silly, but he ignored her. She felt as though she weren’t even on the phone with him. He cleared his throat and a hopeful feeling arose in Megan, “Hey, have you spoken to Margaret?”

She gritted her teeth in frustration. She didn’t know where this phone call was headed with its random awkward pauses and now a random question about her friend.

“No. Why?”

Another pause, then a sigh. It was good to know he wasn’t fully dead.

“No reason.” Another pause cut short when he said, “I’ll call you tomorrow, Meg. Bye.”

“Alright, bye. Love y-”

Flat line.

Cologne, Germany

Dave couldn’t even look at Taylor. He was angry, frustrated and disappointed. All three feelings were mostly aimed at himself, and all three were also aimed at Megan. She seemed fine, very relaxed. Nothing seemed wrong on that side of the world, but on this side, it was already flipping upside down. Everything was shaking and being crumbled very slowly, and he wouldn’t want to know what his world would look like it if it eventually got wiped out.

And his mind rambled onwards while sitting on a barstool with Nate, while Taylor wrapped both arms around gorgeous women every five seconds. He wanted Taylor to break down crying. He wanted Taylor to run out of this crowded room because his heart was practically in splinters. He wanted Taylor to call Margaret and beg to explain herself. He wanted Taylor to have some sort of compassion. Dave wanted him to because he didn’t want to be the weakest. He didn’t want to be the only one being pulled by a thread.

But there Taylor was. Buying drinks for girls and letting himself have a good time. Maybe it was because he wasn’t hurting or maybe because he wanted to forgot about Margaret, and the only way he could do that is if he acted like the old Taylor. Dave was hoping for the second option.

“Are you really going to let him do this to himself?” Nate asked Dave, Nate’s eyes locked on Taylor and the various girls he gathered in his corner. “His heart’s broke, Dave. It’s obvious.”

Dave dragged his fingers over his eyes and sighed. He slammed his forearms onto the wooden bar and shook his head to himself.

“What the hell am I going to do, Nate? Be his Fairy Godmother?”

Nate turned back to Dave, almost annoyed, he spoke, “Well, what’s wrong with you? You hid the entire time backstage and now you tried to seclude yourself in this bar. Paradise with Megan is over or something?”

He pressed his bottle of beer to his lips and mumbled against the rim, “Yeah, something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?” Nate sipped his own beer, curiosity getting the best of him.

Dave shrugged, keeping all conversations today with everyone short and brief. He didn’t want to interact with anyone. He still felt as though Andrew was spying on him from any corner of this small, over crowded place. For all Dave knew, he could have been at the show tonight. Anywhere in the entire venue.

“Shit’s just weird right now,” Dave announced, now letting it settle that subtle answers with Nate are hardly acceptable, even when it the main subject was Megan. Dave practically cried on Nate’s shoulder about Megan before Taylor was even part of the band. He knew Dave and Megan’s love story more than anyone else in Dave’s life. If anyone should know about any suspicious things between Megan and Dave, it should be Nate.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Dave. What is it?” asked Nate.

How could Dave put the past few days in simple words? He knew he couldn’t and he wasn’t even going to try. So he just shoved his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled the only way he could express his change in everything. He slid the cryptic notes and photographic evidence towards Nate with the palm of his hand, feeling like his hand was on fire just by making the slightest contact with the withered pieces of paper.

He felt the same shaken sensation through the entire night, but he finally felt the shivers crawl up his spine every time he let his eyes hover over the sloppy letters.

What more could he do? Was there anything he could do? Andrew had him trapped. And he was more than certain it was him. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would want to watch his relationship fall into the depths of misery and sorrow.

“God,” he heard Nate say quietly, a tone of disgust wrapping around Dave’s ears, “This is just freaky. This guy’s a fucking creep.”

Nate shoved them back, with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the same burning ache that Dave felt too. Nate couldn’t recall ever letting his eyes fall on Andrew, but maybe he had, he just knew enough stories to know who he was and what he could do.

“What the hell does he want from you? It can’t be Megan. He fucked her over too many times to actually sabotage everything for you,” Nate stated, and Dave could only shrug his shoulders. He could never understand and probably will never understand why Andrew just couldn’t live in the back of his mind anymore.

After fiddling with his fingers for too long and growing tired beyond belief about absolutely everything, he decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel by foot. Not knowing the exact time or steps it’ll take him back to his destination, he ventured forth in his tattered clothes and heart.

He allowed himself to pass by drunk men whistling at women, couples feverishly kissing against street poles and homeless men and women begging for money, which he always kindly gave even if it was only just a simple quarter he had sitting in his pocket.

He let the foreign air run freely upon his skin. He hadn’t felt so vulnerable in so long. If Dave could calculate correctly, it probably had been months since he last felt himself slowly dissolve into nothing.

Maybe he deserved this. For every bad thing he ever did in the handful of years he didn’t see Megan. For failing to be a more helpful friend to Kurt, for hurting Jennifer in various ways throughout their marriage, for breaking Louise’s heart in such a vicious and careless manner, and for dragging Megan along all his deadly antics in just a few months.

It killed him on the inside to know that nothing truly bad could be going on in Megan’s life if he just stayed away. She was living a practically normal life with a man who wasn’t her Prince Charming, but she couldn’t see beyond his meaner aspects. She didn’t know and maybe it was meant to be that way. Maybe he wasn’t suppose to save her from her misery because she wouldn’t have to experience this heart wrenching battle that Dave had put through since slipping that letter into her mailbox. Maybe it wasn’t the way things were suppose to be.

Dave couldn’t hear a word from all his thoughts yelling at him at once, but when a soft hand wrapped around his left bicep and gave it firm, but gentle squeak, he was jumped out of his cruel thoughts and face to face with the stranger.

“Why is Dave Grohl, of all people, walking the streets of Germany all alone with a giant frown on his face?”

Dave was sure his face registered from sadness to utter shock in a split second when his eyes made contact with a very familiar pair of giant blue eyes.

“Oh m- Louise? What are-” Dave frantically looked around in his unfamiliar surroundings to realize no one was on this long, empty street. Only a very occupied couple across the street with their tongues down each others throat. “What are you doing here?”

“European festivals? We both play Bizarre Fest tomorrow, remember?”

Dave attempted to wipe his head clear of all the things he was thinking of while he was walking. “Right, right.”

Dave stood before her, and realized she was always a beautiful sight to look at. She always had a great, mystic wonder in her eyes and Dave could read stories off of them. But his mind was far off into the universe to even allow himself to reminisce for even two seconds. So he cleared his throat, in a frantic haze and said, “I gotta head back to my hotel. The show tonight completely drained me.”

Before he could turn around, without a goodbye, without even an explanation for his bad behavior only a few months ago, she squeezed his bicep again and said, “Have a drink with me. No bad blood, just a drink.”

He could have said no. The simplest word he would have told any other woman tonight if she was standing in front of him, but his knees were practically gravitating towards the ground. His heart was sunken so below his chest that it was pulling him towards the dirt of the ground, and it was beyond his control what his heart wanted to come out of his mouth, so with clear doubt and hidden future remorse, the words he spoke were, “Yeah, I could go for a few cold ones.”

And he wondered who was going to have a more eventful night: Him or Taylor.

#dave grohl fan fiction #dave grohl fanfiction #dave grohl fanfic #dave grohl fan fic #foo fighters fanfic #foo fighters fan fic #foo fighters fan fiction #foo fighter fan fic #foo fighter fan fiction

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kurtfanfic · 5 years ago

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WOW

Hey guys...... it seriously has been a long time.... going through my old posts has brought back these nostalgic feelings on how happy writing this really made me.... and to see what was going on in my life at the time. I have seriously been through a lot, but haven’t we all!

I want to start writing this story again but i’m not sure that any one would care anymore lol

please if your reading this, reach out and let me know! i would love to have like a co writer too to help me get back into this!

i seriously missed you all!!

also i think im gonna be posting this stroy on Wattpad if anyone is interested!!

#kurt cobain #Kurt #kurt cobain fanfiction #kurt cobain fanfic #nirvana #nirvana fanfiction #nirvana fan fic #nirvana fanfic #imagine #nirvana imagine #Dave Grohl #Krist Novoselic

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sunflowergirl522 · 2 years ago

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Fangirl 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Corroded Coffin has an album release party.

Word Count: 3061

A/N: Listen I know Dave Grohl wasn’t the og drummer for Nirvana but I love him so he is in this fic okay? Okay.

Part One

Eddie Masterlist

It’s been three months since you and Eddie met and since then the two of you have gotten extremely close. He takes you to every show they have and you sit in for most practices.The rest of the guys were completely psyched to meet you, especially when you knew all of their names from being a fan, normally the fans they meet only remember Eddie's. You spend a lot of your free time together too even if that’s you reading and Eddie playing his guitar to learn a new song or create a new one. When he graduated last month you were the loudest person in the auditorium causing a scene for him because everyone needs to know how proud of him you are, Wayne really appreciated that.

Dustin has become such a nuisance since finding out how much time you spend together. He refuses to leave either one of you alone about when you’re going to get together, making teasing remarks when you’re all together hanging out and straight up asking you about it when it’s just you and him. You know he’s doing the same thing to Eddie, you laugh about it together in private, the two of you secretly wishing his teasing would come true. Because even though that first day the two of you met he said taking you to the concert the next day was a date, neither of you had actually acted like it was.

And since you gave Eddie the suggestion to put posters up around colleges for Corroded Coffin shows and have them places that minors could go, the band has gained a decent amount of traction. They have a bunch of fans now and after being asked by multiple people they started selling merch again. Eddie always makes sure that you get first dibs on each new piece they come out with since you’re his biggest fan. They’ve even gotten signed by a small record label and have an album coming out tomorrow.

You stand from your crouched position in front of your movies as a knock sounds on your door. You’re shocked when you see Nancy and Robin on the other side. The only person you were expecting today was Eddie.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re picking your clothes for the release party tomorrow because your fashion sense is shit.” Robin brushes past you leading the way to your room while Nancy speaks. They had decided that they had enough of the two of you dancing around your feelings for the other and that they’d finally get a plan together. Step one was to make sure you looked hot at the release party of Corroded Coffins album.

“What? My fashion sense isn’t that bad.” Nancy and Robin look at you clad in sweatpants and a shirt that you obviously stole from Eddie before sharing a look with each other.

“Okay fine so it’s not shit, that may have been too harsh Nance.” Robin quickly says to appease you and sends Nancy a look to tell her to play along. She then moves to your closet while you sit on the edge of your bed. “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow Y/n/n?”

“Just a pair of jeans and my Kiss shirt. And probably a jacket.” You nod your head towards the clothes you left sitting out on the desk.

“Is it your cropped Kiss shirt at least?” Nancy starts rummaging through your dresser drawers, you just nod. “That’s something at least. Where are all of your skirts?”

“They’re all in here it seems.” Robin leans back from your closet to look at Nancy who moves to stand next to her.

“Are you guys gonna be here long? Eddie should be on his way soon. I guess you guys could stay for movie night too though if you wanted.”

“Eddie’s coming over?”

“Well yeah, it’s movie night.” It comes out like everyone should know that by now when really how would they if it’s always just you and Eddie.

“Right, how could we forget?” Robin nudges Nancy and you catch the look she sends her making you suspect that they might be up to something.

“What are you two scheming?”

“Nothing, we’ll be back before the party tomorrow to get you ready.” You follow them out of your room just as the front door opens.

“Pizza has arrived Sweetheart! Oh, hey guys what are you doing here? You staying for movie night because I’m not sure there’s enough pizza for four of us.”

“We were just leaving Eds. See you tomorrow Y/n!” They both rush out talking to each other leaving you and Eddie alone in your home while they head next door to talk to Dustin about step two.

“What was that about?” His face scrunches up in confusion for why his friends left in such a hurry.

“Something about dressing me for the party tomorrow. I think they’re plotting something.” You shrug, taking the box from him and heading into the living room. “Do you wanna pick the movies while I make some popcorn?”

“No!” Eddie’s quick to answer knowing the catastrophe that will ensue if you make popcorn. “Last time you made popcorn you burnt it so bad the kitchen smelled like it for a week. I’ll make it, you grab some movies. I’ll watch whatever you want.”

“Even if I pick Grease again?”

“Especially if you pick Grease again!” He yells from your kitchen causing you to laugh. The first time you picked it he had complained without having seen it before. But now on a rare occasion he’d pick it.

The two of you start the night with The Thing and The Goonies quoting the films as you eat and try to toss popcorn into each other's mouths. Once the pizza is gone and Eddie makes another bag of popcorn you finally put Grease in. And there in the middle of the night in your living room the two of you jump around singing along to it and acting out parts of the movie together.

Halfway through Clue, which you put on next, you fall asleep head resting on Eddie’s shoulder and he’s quick to follow you.

Robin and Nancy find the two of you curled up on the couch together the next morning the tv screen blue from the movie ending.

“Are you sure they’re not already together and just messing with us?”

“I’m sure. They would definitely be all over each other on a normal basis if they were together.”

“Gross Nance.”

“What? It’s true. Now which one of us is gonna wake them up?” Robin sighs already knowing it’s gonna be her.

“Alright love birds! Rise and shine!” She stomps over to the couch and rips the blanket off of the two of you as loud as she can. The last thing she wants is to end up shoving you off the couch again.

“Robin? What are you doing here?” Your voice is full of sleep and you rub at your eyes to help wake yourself up. Eddie’s arms around you tighten before loosening so he can sit up.

“What time is it?”

“It’s like close to nine, maybe eight forty. Don’t you have things you have to do with the band?”

“Shit, yeah I do.” He climbs off the couch careful not to disturb you too much and crouches in front of you smiling to himself at how you’re already trying to go back to sleep. “I’ll be back later to pick you up Sweetheart.”

“Mm, see you then Eds.” He runs a hand through your hair, kisses the top of your head, and stands to go nodding to Robin and Nancy as he heads out.

“Thanks for the wake up call girls.”

“Y/n, come on you gotta get up. We have to find your outfit for tonight.”

“Okay you guys do that, I’ll sleep.” Robin and Nancy look at each other before grabbing your arms and pulling you up. “Come on guys it’s early can’t you just give me one more hour. If you don’t let me sleep I’ll be exhausted tonight.”

“Nope, we brought coffee. You can drink it once we’re in your room.” You groan at Nancy’s words but accept the fact that you won’t be sleeping anymore.

“Why are you guys here so early anyway? The party isn’t until seven.”

“Yeah well you need to drink this,” Robin hands you a cup of hot coffee as you sit on your bed, “and we need to meticulously pick out your clothes.”

“Right and then you need to shower and get dressed.”

“Then I’ll go get us some food or something. And after we eat Nance will do your hair and makeup.”

“I don’t see how that will take ten hours or why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. But fine go at it, find my clothes for tonight I’ll sit here with my coffee.”

By the time you’re done drinking it it’s been an hour and a half and they’re still arguing over what you should wear. There’s clothes on your floor in two piles, a maybe and a definitely not pile. Your two friends can’t seem to agree on anything for the life of them and you decide that you could probably sneak in a twenty minute nap. Just as your eyes close and you start to doze off Robin hits your foot to get your attention.

“What do you think Y/n, which outfit do you wanna wear?” Nancy and Robin are both holding up different clothing. Nancy a short black dress you had forgotten existed and Robin one of your tighter skirts and a blank tank top. “You’d wear a jean jacket with either fit.”

You sigh and get up walking over to them. You grab your Kiss shirt you originally planned on wearing on the way over. Their faces drop as you walk past them to the closet where they still haven’t pulled out your favorite jean skirt.

“Here, does this work for you guys? The Kiss shirt is non negotiable, Eddie and I are supposed to be matching.”

“Maybe we were too quick to judge your fashion sense. Now go shower while we pick your shoes out.” Nancy shoves you out of the room before you can argue otherwise.

Admittedly you start to doze off after the warm water starts to steam up your bathroom. It’s possible you took a five minute standing power nap. You had only gotten maybe five hours of sleep before they came over. You’d feel bad for Eddie for having to actually do stuff today but he’s used to not sleeping much. The only times he really does sleep is when he stays over your place or vice versa.

By the time you’re dressed and you’ve all eaten the takeout Robin went out to get it’s almost one. You’re definitely more awake than before thanks to the coffee Nancy keeps pumping into your system. You’re still arguing about how you don’t need them to do your hair or makeup though.

“Definitely sexy disheveled, I’ve been rocking out all day, hair.” Nancy hums in response to Robin as they discuss while you’re stuck in your desk chair.

“You want messy hair? You could’ve had me nap for like thirty minutes and then just run your fingers through it to fix it up a bit.”

“Nope, now stay still so I can do this.” Nancy teases and pulls at your hair for the next twenty minutes while Robin keeps you entertained by telling you about how Steve got gum stuck in his hair and when she offered to cut it out he threw a fit.

“Can we skip the make up? I’ve had enough of feeling like a doll for the two of you to play with today.” You hated when your mom did this to you growing up and you hate that your friends have been doing it all day. “Besides, don't you guys have to go get ready or help Steve with his hair or something?”

“She has a point Nance, I did tell Steve I’d help him once I was ready.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll see you later Y/n.”

“Yeah, bye guys thanks for your help.” You wave to them before shutting your front door. You lean your back against it and slide down sighing. Today has been such a long day already.

Dustin comes over a little after six since Eddie’s picking him up too. He finds you laying on the couch with a book when he walks through the door.

“Hey Dusty, how’s your day been?”

“Good, what about yours?” He sits next to you after you straighten up.

“It was alright.” You shrug. “Nancy and Robin were over playing dress up like all day.” Dustin cringes a little bit at your words, he told them not to do that part of the plan and that you’d hate it.

“Oh? Where are they now?”

“Probably getting ready, I kicked them out a few hours ago. How’d you sleep last night?”

“Good, I stayed up playing video games but then I slept in this morning. Why?”

“You’re in charge of keeping me awake tonight. Eddie and I were up really late last night and then they showed up so goddamn early, I barely got any sleep.” You’ve never been so jealous of your friend before.

“Why didn’t you nap after sending them home?”

“Nancy pumped me full of coffee but I’m sure I’ll crash halfway through the party.”

“Alright, you can count on me.” Dustin knows almost better than anyone how you need sleep to be able to function. He only had to be the one to wake you up for school till you graduated.

“You wanna play a game or something?”

When Eddie enters your house he’s met with yours and Dustin's laughter and his smile gets bigger.

“Dustin come on, you want a snack you gotta come get it.”

“I can’t get over there! Just toss me something.” Eddie pauses in the doorway of your dining room where Dustin’s standing on a chair in the corner and he can see your head peeking around the doorway to the kitchen. You gasp when you see him.

“Looks like a lava monster has appeared Dusty.” He knows you’re playing the floor is lava immediately. It’s something you and Dustin have played since you were kids and even though you’re older now Eddie still walks in on the two of you playing it a lot.

He starts to make gurgled groaning noises to play along and slowly starts to make his way to where you are. You let out a small scream when you see him coming closer to you and start moving on the kitchen counters to get to the other doorway.

“Too slow.” Eddie's deep grumbled voice greets your ears right before he grabs you and pulls you off of the counter.

“You moved too fast!” You laugh leaving your arms around his neck while resting your forehead against his chest.

“Are you guys ready to head out?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

During the beginning of the party you stay hanging around the boys and your friends but after having a couple drinks you’re quick to become friendly with one of the other bands that the record label invited. You had gone off to get another drink when you started getting close to their drummer. You stay by the bar and chat with him while Eddie stands against the wall with his arms crossed in his group pouting.

“You good man?” Steve asks as he notices the annoyed look on his friend's face as he stares at the two of you.

“They don’t even have that good of music.” He’s met the members of Nirvana a few times as Corroded Coffin went into the studio to make the album. They were still writing their first album.

“Initiate phase two.” Robin nudges Dustin as she overhears Eddie being jealous. He rolls his eyes but makes his way over to his friend regardless.

“They seem to be getting pretty close, I wonder if he’ll be her new boyfriend.” Eddie chokes on his drink at Dustin’s words.

“Boyfriend? No way, uh uh. She told me drummers aren’t her thing. No offense Gareth.”

“None taken man, she’s your girl.” His own drummer shrugs and goes back to talking to a fan.

“Hate to break it to you Eddie but I think anyone who can play an instrument is her type.”

“It doesn’t matter she’s my girl.” His friend's words had filled him with confidence because yeah you are his girl. He’s not about to let some nobody take that away from him.

“Does she know that?” Eddie gulps and watches as you laugh at something he said.

“I’ll be back Dustin.”

“Oh hey Eddie.” You greet your best friend as he stops beside you swinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Hey Sweetheart.”

“This is Dave, he’s in a band.”

“We’ve met darlin’.” He squeezes you against him doing what he can to show the man in front of him that you’re his.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Good, you care if I steal her away for a bit?”

“Go for it.” Eddie nods at him in thanks and pulls you towards a secluded part of the venue.

“What is it Eds?”

“Thought you didn’t like drummers Sweetheart?” He would’ve just asked you out if it weren’t for his nerves acting up. You understood what this was though from how possessive he just seemed to be.

“I do but I’m more into guitarists and lead singers with curly hairy and pretty brown eyes.” You smile up at him while stepping closer to him, holding onto his jacket.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm, in fact there’s a specific one I have my eye on. I think he’s gonna make it big.”

“You think so?” He leans his head down closer to you while his hands go to your waist to pull you closer.

“I know so.”

“Well I think if he makes it big he’ll be taking his number one fan with him.”

“He better.” And with that you reach up for his face to connect your lips.

“Mission successful.” Nancy and Robin high five as they watch the two of you come together.

Eddie Taglist:@sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @munsonswhore86 @katsukis1wife @violet-19999 @navs-bhat @emotionaldreamer @thatsamegirl @fromasgardandback @rockchickrebel @yourdailymemedelivery @magicalchocolatecheesecake @watercolorskyy @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @brattypeony @fangirling-4-ever @angelina0191 @gaysludge @audhd-dragonaut @eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @tvserie-s-world @reddisteddie @redgetawaycar @eddies-lover @alexis6699

Everything Taglist: @munsonsmuse @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie x reader

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xxx-cat-xxx · 6 years ago

Note

Peter running away

So, this fic.It wasn´t the prompt, it was just me. I wrote a draft, then changed the storyline and deleted it all. I talked to @awesomesockes, changed the storyline again, and wrote about 2k words more than originally planned. Then amazing @whumphoarder beta´d the hell out of it, for which I´m infinitely grateful. I hope that it´s sort of acceptable now.

Hurt Tony, hurt Peter, Irondad. May and Bruce also play their part. Angst, injury, blood, panic attack, vomiting.

One of These Days

Peter’s spider senses don’t even have time to warn him before the barrel of a gun presses hard into his temple. Tony is still in the middle of an angry lecture while simultaneously blasting a hole into the wall and relaying their status to the rest of the team, so Peter doesn’t blame him when he completely misses the incident.

“ - told you a million times that no means no, but of course Peter Parker has to know better and follow me inside when I explicitly told him not to, because he’s got years of experience fighting evil and -”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Don’t. Interrupt. Me. I have every right to be pissed at you -“

“Mr Stark.” This time it’s a much more feminine voice calling his name, and finally Tony turns his head around. “Step out of the suit.”

In a split second, Tony takes in Peter, the gun against his head, and the woman aiming it. The fingers of his right hand start to move, inconspicuously signalling his armour to do who-knows-what. But it seems their enemy caught the attempt as well.

“Get out of the suit,” she orders. ”Right now.”

“Okay, okay, Ms Trunchbull, no need to get aggressive,” Tony says. He orders the suit to open with a rough gesture before stepping out of it.

Tony is still wearing a Foo Fighters shirt with an oversized print of Dave Grohl’s face, paired with the sweatpants he was working in before the Avengers were called out for the mission, all of which would be funny to Peter if he wasn’t busy decidedly not freaking out about the whole situation. He desperately wishes that the two seconds of warning Tony had were enough for him to do whatever is necessary to get them out of here, because Peter has fucked up big this time.

“Now,” the woman says, a bit of triumph playing into her otherwise calm tone, “make the suit come over to me. Slowly.”

“Not a fan of turning over my property,” Tony says. He’s playing for time, his eyes seeking Peter’s and signalling something urgently. Be ready, Peter reads, and hopes with all he has that he’s right.

“Stark. I won’t wait any longer.”

The woman pushes the gun harder into Peter’s temple. He tries not to flinch, not to show how loud and fast his heart is beating inside his chest. But Tony picks it up, anyway—Peter can see the briefest moment of panic crossing his expression before it is replaced by determination. He gives the suit a signal and it slowly starts moving towards their captor. Peter holds his breath. Any second now, and -

“Down!” Tony shouts in the same moment that the suit blows up and all hell breaks loose.

The shockwave of the explosion hits Peter and throws him off his feet even before he has time to duck. He feels the gun going off more than he hears it, and this is when he is sure that he’s done for. At least I died on a mission, he thinks as he drops, but it’s cold comfort, with nobody saved and nothing gained from dying in a stupid ambush.

But Peter doesn’t die. It’s worse.

There’s a choked inhale on his left, a muttered curse, and then Tony’s body hits the ground, limp and lifeless.

Peter’s brain skips. Suddenly he is kneeling next to the older man, bending over him, pressing his hands into Tony´s stomach where the bullet hit him. There’s blood all over his palms, thick and wet and too much, and he’s never known how bright the colour red can be.

The next thing he knows, he’s lying in a SHIELD medical van. May isn’t there. Tony isn’t there. He’s alone, the world is all wrong, and it is completely his fault.

Peter’s suit is pulled down to his waist, revealing a number of ugly bruises covering his torso. There’s a dull ache all over his body, an IV plugged into the back of his hand.

“… ran right into the trap.”

His enhanced hearing picks up someone talking into a phone just outside of the van. The voice is unfamiliar, but given the scenery, he’s pretty sure that it must be a SHIELD agent—a medic, maybe.

“Stark´s in surgery right now, they say there won´t be any lasting damage. Lucky bastard. We told them a million times that it’s silly to take a child on missions. But you know Stark, he’s even more stubborn than he is rich. Hope he learned his lesson.”

The realization that Tony made it through is dwarfed by the enormous wave of guilt that washes over Peter.

He doesn’t think when he stumbles down from the gurney and onto his feet. The IV is pulled out even before the dizziness in his head has settled. The suit follows next. He grabs an oversized SHIELD sweater from a hook where someone has left it and throws it on without caring how the sleeves dangle, empty, over his hands.

And then Peter runs.

Several of his ribs must have been broken in the explosion, as each pace is accompanied by a stab of agony around his chest, and there’s a burning kind of pain on his shins and forearms where the skin has been grazed. But it’s good. It gives him structure, distraction, something to mute his thoughts while he makes his way through the city, not caring about which direction he’s going and never looking back.

Peter stops only when the pain gets so bad that he can’t breathe anymore. Then he stumbles into the entryway of a house in a shady neighbourhood, presses himself into a corner and wraps his arms around his knees. It’s cold, and for a moment he longs for the suit’s integrated heater before remembering that these days are over now. That Tony will take the suit, again, and this time there won’t be any second chances. Peter is not even angry. He probably deserves far worse.

It’s hours later, when the cold starts to seep into his bones and he can’t stop trembling, that he starts to realize the gravity of the situation he’s brought on himself. He doesn’t have money, or even his phone. He definitely won’t be knocking on people’s doors at night and ask for help, not in boxers, not with blood still smeared all over his arms and legs.

The pain around his ribs hasn’t let up; they’re not healing as they should between the cold slowing him down and the hunger gnawing in his stomach. The ache and exhaustion are making him lightheaded.

He doesn’t realize when he lies down, but at some point, he finds himself curled up on the floor, biting his lips bloody in order to stop his teeth from chattering. He’s not sure if he could get up even if he wanted to. He’s not sure if he cares either. The last thought that comes before he passes out is whether he´ll at least be allowed to say good-bye to Karen.

It’s Bruce who finds him. He must have been trying to rouse him for a while, because there’s fear edged around his mouth and a hint of green on his neck when Peter opens his eyes.

“Finally.” He sighs with relief when Peter blearily glances up at him. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“Nothing,” Peter mutters. He shakes his head awake, then stops dizzily, but the world doesn’t cease spinning around him. The memories come back in a disorienting rush.

He closes his eyes again.

“No, you stay awake with me, Peter,” Bruce says with an urgency that somehow manages to get through the haziness clouding his thoughts. “Here, drink this.”

He presses a bottle of water into Peter’s hands. His fingers are numb, and half of it spills down onto his shirt while he tries to drink. The drops feel warm on his icy skin.

“Are you hurt?” Bruce asks.

“No,” Peter says without caring to check whether that’s true. Then, because he has to know, even if he’s scared of the reply, he asks, “Is Mr. Stark okay?”

“Yes, Peter. They had to do an emergency surgery, but he is stable now. He mistook me for Jarvis the first time he woke up, but once he’s thinking clearer he’ll want to know where you are. I’m glad I found you before he realized what’s going on, or else he’d probably go looking for you with IV bags trailing behind him.” Bruce chuckles a bit before he turns serious again. “We were all worried, kid, your aunt most of all.”

“May called you?”

Bruce nods. “She thought you’d spent the night at the compound, but when you didn’t message in the morning, she got nervous.”

“What did you tell her?” Peter asks, his voice trembling a bit.

“Well, Jarvis picked up your face on the security footage just before that. Otherwise we wouldn’t have had a choice but tell her the truth. Pepper told her that you were at training and will call her back once you’re done.”

Pepper lied for me, Peter thinks. He wouldn’t have thought it possible to feel even more guilty, but somehow it happens. It must have shown on his face, because Bruce’s expression softens visibly.

“Look, Peter. I’m not great at people stuff,” he admits. “You need someone else to talk to right now. But I promise that nobody is angry at you. Let’s get back to the compound, and you’ll see everything is alright.”

You can’t know, Peter thinks. You weren’t there when I nearly got Tony killed. You weren’t there the last time he took the suit.

But he gets up all the same, steadying himself on the wall, and whispers back, “Okay.”

“Pepper made me promise not to crack any jokes that could potentially aggravate your guilt, but honestly, it’s so hard to resist right now.” Tony grins through half-lidded eyes.

Bruce has forced Peter to call and reassure May, shower, eat, and drink a litre of water before finally letting him see Tony. The engineer is propped up in a hospital bed, tubes and wires sticking out of him at odd places, and, in his own words, he’s high as a kite.

“You look like a sad puppy, kid,” he giggles, and Tony Stark giggling is definitely the weirdest thing Peter has seen this week, Ned’s YouTube history included. “Like those kids they use in aid commercials for orphanages.”

Peter doesn’t know what to say. He’d braced himself for a lot of things, but this is definitely not what he expected.

“But seriously? Leaving your suit and taking off?” Tony continues.

He’d barely been awake when Bruce had explained the situation, so Peter can’t help but admire that he even remembers their talk despite the mashed-up state his brain must be in from the post-surgery meds cocktail. “I understand that SHIELD medics are scary, and you’re definitely not the first one to bolt from a van, but that’s more a move I’d expect from Barton. Or myself.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Peter starts. “I just - “

“See? Told you he’s doing okay,” Bruce interrupts, opening the door with his shoulder since his hands are full between the two smoothies he’s carrying. He sets one on Tony’s nightstand and presses the other into Peter’s hand.

“So, how are you feeling?” he asks, facing Tony.

“’m good,” the man declares unconvincingly. He rubs his eyes with one hand and his face screws up in pain at the movement. “If I promise not to stand up too fast, can I get back to the workshop?”

“Sure,” Bruce snorts, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. He fiddles with the IV and Tony’s features relax visibly after a few moments. “Tell me, what is it you’re working on?”

“It’s top-secret, Brucie.” Tony frowns as if trying to concentrate, his eyelids drooping ever so slowly. “’m tired. Tell Dum-E…make some coffee…”

The rest of the sentence is lost as Tony’s eyes fall shut and his hand goes slack over his face. Bruce places it back down on the mattress with a gentleness Peter has never noticed about him before.

“You should get some rest, Peter,” Bruce says, turning back to him. “Your aunt is on the way, but knowing the rush hour traffic, she’ll take at least half an hour to get here.”

“Yeah,” Peter mutters. The realization that she left work early for him—because of him—adds another knot of guilt to his stomach. He doesn’t want to go out and face Pepper or the other Avengers. “Can I just sit here for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” Bruce gives him a once-over. “But promise that you’ll finish that smoothie.”

Peter nods. He waits until Bruce shuts the door before looking back at his mentor.

The hospital gown Tony is wearing has slipped out of position, exposing the large network of scars on his chest where the arc reactor had once been. It’s the first time Peter sees it up close. He thinks of the massive hole that must have been there in Tony’s body to create such a scar, and then thinks of the bullet that tore through him because of Peter’s stupidity.

Peter blinks and suddenly feels himself back on his knees, Tony’s blood soaking through his clothes. His stomach clenches. Peter swallows thickly, tasting the sandwich he had earlier at the back of his throat. He sets the smoothie down on the table as far as possible away from him.

There’s still blood under the fingernails of his right hand. He picks at it, but it won’t come off—just sticks to the nail of the other hand instead. Peter can feel his breaths speeding up, his chest going tight, and suddenly tears are streaming down his face.

He stumbles to the adjacent bathroom and lets himself sink onto the tiled floor. He hugs his legs to his chest and cries and cries and cries, over everyone he’d put in danger and everyone he couldn’t save.

There’s blood everywhere and air won’t reach his lungs. He’s sobbing, then choking, then gagging. Bile runs down his chin as his vision starts going black.

“Breathe, Peter, in and out,” a voice says firmly, and Peter tries. The first inhale does nothing to help him feel better. The second as least sends a bit of oxygen back to his brain. The third brings sick with it.

“Over the toilet,” Tony directs, pushing him towards the bowl. Peter bends over it and heaves up the remainders of a sandwich, the broken ribs screaming in pain, tears still running freely down his cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he chokes between retches.

“It’s alright, kid,” Tony replies, his hand steady on Peter’s back. “You’re okay.”

Peter is sure he isn’t, but at least he can breathe again, and the nausea is slowly letting up. He takes the glass of water Tony hands him and rinses his mouth.

“Now. If you think you’re done, we should consider moving back to the room. I’ve got approximately 18 seconds until I pass out, and I’d really, really, like to avoid doing so on these bathroom tiles.”

Peter looks up at Tony, who is standing, albeit barely, colour draining rapidly from his face.

“I’m sorry,“ he repeats, wiping his mouth roughly and getting up.

“Save it for later,” Tony says, his voice a bit shaky. He closes his eyes when Peter puts an arm around his mentor’s shoulders to support him back to the bed.

“Should I call a doctor?” Peter asks hesitantly.

“Nah, just - need a moment,” Tony says through gritted teeth. It’s evident that he’s hurting, but the last thing Peter is going to do is call for help against his will.

They sit on the edge of the mattress for a bit, Tony breathing deeply in an attempt to get the pain under control, Peter sniffling occasionally.

“Now, will you tell me what that little episode was about?” Tony asks. He takes a deep breath and finally opens his eyes.

“Nothing,” Peter says quickly. But he can still taste the bile at the back of his mouth - still feel the blood slick and warm on his fingers.

“Peter, “ Tony urges, “I’ve got a hole shot through me, I’m half-drugged up, and I’m definitely not a patient person on my best days. So please, let’s just skip to the part where I have consoled you enough that you open up to me and tell me why the hell you were gone the whole night and then had a breakdown in my bathroom.”

“It was all my fault,” he whispers, finally letting out the words that have been echoing in his head for a so long. He doesn’t look up at Tony. “I followed you into that building, and you got hurt because I screwed up.”

“Yeah, I already know that much,” Tony says flippantly. “So what?” He waves his hand in a casual gesture. “We are superheroes, or whatever you call that nowadays. Getting shot is an occupational hazard.”

“But…” Peter is at a loss for words. “I didn’t listen to you,” he says helplessly.

“And you certainly learned your lesson.” With a groan, Tony pulls his legs up on the hospital bed and lets himself sink back against the pillows. His words reverberate in Peter’s head and the memory of the medic saying the same line about Tony comes back to him.

“You’re-You’re still going to let me go on missions? You’re not gonna take the suit?” he asks, his heart beating fast, as if saying the words loud would make Tony change his mind immediately.

“The suit?” Tony gives a short laugh that turns into a hacked cough. “It’s not like you’d stop being Spider-Man if I take the suit away. And I wouldn’t want you to, either. The last thing we need is another vigilante roaming around the streets of New York. I’d rather be the one in control of your activities than watching you go underground.”

He grimaces painfully as he dabs a bit of blood from his lips. “Internal injuries, nothing to worry about,” he adds upon Peter’s alarmed gaze.

“You-You should probably -”

“You are not in any position to tell me what to do, young man,” Tony warns. “Just because I’m not going all Howard Stark on you doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed off. ”

“Yeah,” Peter breathes. “Okay.”

He knows that he should be relieved. And he is, sort of. But the guilt is still sitting hard and tight around his heart.

His thoughts are interrupted when Bruce comes back to tell him that May just arrived.

“You’re better now?” Tony asks when Peter hesitantly gets up from the mattress. The pain in his mentor’s eyes is duller, but he looks infinitely more tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Peter says.

“Good.” Tony is slurring a little now, his eyes fighting to stay open. “See you in the lab tomorrow.”

“In your dreams,” Bruce snorts. “You try again to get out of this bed in the next 48 hours and Pepper will lock down the suits for a month.”

“That’s not fair,” Tony protests weakly. Bruce hides a smile.

May still smells like hospital disinfectant, but she also smells like home.

“So, what happened?” she asks once they are sitting in the car. “The last time you had this look on your face was when you and Ned used up my perfume for a science experiment. And I’ve seen the news, so don’t tell me that it was just a training weekend.”

“I - Mr. Stark got hurt. Because of me,” Peter confesses. His voice sounds so, so small.

“I see,” May says. Then she doesn’t say anything for a while. And it’s good, because she doesn’t ask how he is feeling, or what he needs, or any other questions he can’t answer. She keeps an arm around him while Happy drops them back at the house, then nudges him into changing back to his own clothes and makes him the largest mug of hot chocolate he’s ever received in his life.

He’s sipping it when a bit of it drops on his pyjamas. It’s not red or even remotely resembling blood, but it’s enough to make the tears start all over again.

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbles, wiping his eyes futilely.

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” May says. “Sometimes the world can be too big, even for Spider-Man. It’s okay to be overwhelmed.”

She hugs him tightly, holds him close until the tears dry out.

“What, none of your genius superheroes thought of simply giving you a hug?” she teases, and he chuckles through the sobs.

He’s not alright, but then, nobody ever is. Especially not superheroes.

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

Text

Too many times tragedy will strike and a writer will stop. And it’s heartbreaking because I can’t help but wonder how many stories out there that are wonderful, beautifully written and constructed to perfection and had to be cut short because the poor soul writing it lost a friend or a family member or whoever. How many books out there are left buried in the unknown because the author couldn’t find the time or the motivation to write it all down.

There’s no better example of this than in fan writing. I see it happen all the time, like 90simaginesandfanfics. If I remember correctly, it was like her friend died and she started to lose motivation, and then her personal life fell apart and she went on that long hiatus last winter. That’s just one example, too: writing sites are filled to the brim with dead or comatose fics.

See, I’m the diametric opposite of this. When Chris passed, and that summer nearly killed me, I just thought to myself one day “you know, I’ve got to do something.” It was like when Kurt Cobain passed and Dave Grohl said he was going to live like there’s no tomorrow and he went on to form Foo Fighters: I decided to write like there’s no tomorrow. I wrote my first novel, and I just kept going. I was by myself, too, both virtually and in real life: pretty much all of last year, I was either bunked up in my room or down the hill with my laptop while my mom went to work for almost 12 hours a day, five days a week, which gave me tons of time to write and hone in my skills.

Since Tuesday, I’ve been nothing but motivated to write this fic. I’m at the point now where I need to write, and if I don’t, I’m gonna lose it. I need to tell this story of what happened to Maya and what’s in store for Joey and Lars.

What’s my secret, you ask? It’s not really a secret, just I’ve been exposed to the pain and suffering of the world from a young age and since 2017, I decided I’m not going to sit back and let the stars play with the same stories we see ad infinitum. I’m not going to sit back and let a fandom that has left me behind continue on without knowing who I am first. I’m a Soundgarden fan who was put into exile after Chris passed (both by my own choosing and from the fact I can’t hardly get along with a lot of people anymore--way too much testosterone and too much of a victim complex in that fanbase) and found solace in the heavy metal fandom.

I guess you could say that’s my secret: I feel the story within me so much that I refuse to go down without a fight. I feel Joey and I feel Lars. I need to write for fandom, for myself, and for those two men.

Conversely, I also wish it was that easy to say “if I can do it, you can, too” because it’s not always the case. But I also wish more fan writers could find the time to write as prolifically as I can as well, and I don’t know what hurts me more.

#spilled thoughts #new chapter coming #fan writing #fanfic writing #fanfic woes #grunge fanfiction #heavy metal fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #archive of our own #dead fics

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a-silent-h · 6 years ago

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Get To Know Me Better

Thanks @little-merry-go-round !

1. Height: 5″6

2. Zodiac: Sagittarius

3. Last Film You Saw: Kill Bill Vol 1

4. Favourite Musician: Too many to choose from, but as an all round musician and nice dude, probably Dave Grohl.

5. Favourite Author: Apart from the obvious J.K Rowling, I like Mark Haddon and Andy Weir

6. Favourite Fan Fic: I don’t really go for fan fic, sorry!

7. Favourite Movie: The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

8. Favourite Anime: One Punch Man (the only one I’ve seen!)

9. Instruments: I can play guitar (badly) but I wish I could play piano or violin properly. I love the sound of the cello to listen to.

10. Lucky Number: 7

11. Do you get asks? Yes :)

12. Fandoms: I guess Jacksepticeye, but I don’t actually do or say much myself, just occasionally draw. I like reblogging lots of other cool fan art so more people can see it though!

13. Favourite Song: Straighten Up and Fly Right - Nat King Cole or Royal Blood - Out of the Black

14. What am I Wearing: Black jeans, check shirt, bare feet.

15. Hair Colour: Brown

16. Eye Colour: Grey/ Green ish

17. Favourite Food: Chips with runny egg, cullen skink (a scottish fish chowder)

18. Hobbies: Running, Drawing, Horse Riding, Baking

19. Favourite Weather: Snowy, or warm breezy Autumn Days. I don’t do well in hot weather :(

20. Favourite Superhero: Does Star Lord ( Peter Quill) Count?! Or Groot :D

21: Random Fact About Me: I drink A LOT of tea. Green tea, earl grey, red bush, mint, you name it... When I’m working on my needle felted sculptures, you can guarantee there is a big mug of tea close by.

#asks #about me

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imacrowcawcaw · 4 years ago

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I write a lot of rpf (rock n roll fan here). And a lot of that rpf is smut. Where do I publish it? Rockfic, which requires an account to read pretty much everything And AO3, which has VERY clear tags and warnings, plus the bandoms I write for are pretty self contained and small. I don't really post taboo/explicit stuff on tumblr anymore. I take tagging and warning very seriously; I take my role as fan and writer/creator in fandom very seriously. One of the biggest things I always stress is that it! Is! Fiction! I'm taking this concept of a person, this rockstar persona and a fewvknown facts cherrypicked from interviews, and I am making an entirely new character to play around with. I feel like rpf is taken as an outstanding statement of depravity and irresponsibility instead of what it actually is: fanfiction. If you think that Dave Grohl and Iggy Pop actually got it on wearing sparkly evening gowns and drinking orange juice, that is YOUR problem (never wrote that but I swear to fuck I read a fic description ahout it at some point). It is a fantasy using the image of a person and a few picked characteristics that I have chosen to share in a safe, enclosed space.

Speaking of, like @ao3commentoftheday said, the rules of fandom really need to he revisited and spread around again. My main two are "don't like, don't read" and "don't do anything that could lead the actual person (in rpf works) back to the fiction". I know there are others, but I'm tired and starting to release that there isn't much meat to my actual comment so I'll log off and say goodnight to every single lovely wroter of rpf

in defense of RPF

If you’ve watched TV on any network or heard of any Oscar-nominated movies ever in your life, then you’ve seen RPF. It’s just not called RPF. It’s often called a “biopic” or “historical fiction” or “based on real life events.”

The Crown? RPF.

Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocket Man? RPF.

The Social Network? RPF.

A fairly large number of Doctor Who episodes? RPF.

Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter? RPF.

Just look at the actors who have won Oscars. In the last two decades, 22 out of 40 leads won for playing biographical roles (55%). And this isn’t a recent trend, either. We’ve been writing books and movies and TV shows about real people for as long as humans have been able to write.

So why do people hate RPF so much in fanfiction form? I think an argument can be made that it’s not the RPF that’s the problem. It’s the sex. Somehow, writing a story about a real person and including a sex scene in it is worse than just writing a story about them that doesn’t include sex.

So is the problem RPF? Mainstream awards shows would have me believe that it’s not. Entire genres of literature and film make me think that writing fictional stories about real people isn’t an issue at all. It’s writing stories about those real people having sex with other people that causes the problem. Which means that the problem isn’t RPF at all, it’s sex.

The F in RPF stands for Fiction. People who post it on AO3 are posting it on a website that is specifically dedicated to fiction. Anyone reading a story on AO3 and thinking that it’s an accurate portrayal of reality probably doesn’t even know what AO3 is. Which makes me wonder how they found the story to begin with.

Pick your genre of fanfiction and someone out there has a problem with it, and a lot of the time that problem comes down to the wrong people having the wrong kind of sex. Or the right people having sex, but the wrong people are writing it.

RPF exists in the world. It’s written about the famous and the nameless. It’s written about the dead and the living. It’s written about adults and about children.

If you don’t enjoy RPF, don’t read it. But leave the people who like it alone. A fantasy is still just a fantasy, even if you write it down.

#i dont add stuff to posts a lit #i wish i could have added somethinf more meaningful and substantial #but oh well #its like 2am #and i just needed to say morebthan i could in the tags #thank you @ao3commentoftheday for all that you do #i love you for this post #so much #the rpf arguements drive me crazy #ok giodnight #writing #q

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90sdavegrohl-fic · 4 years ago

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First off, I LOVE THIS STORY!!!!! YOU ARE SUCH AN AMAZING WRITER!!! But also I was wondering, do you know where this Dave grohl story is. Like title was Dave Grohl Fan Fic and the main characters name was Alison (Ally) and meets Dave through a tryout after Franz Stahl leaves. Again, this is probably the best fic I've read. Thanks!

Thank you so much and no i’m so sorry I don’t. Like me I’m assuming life got in the way and they forgot about it.

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exhausted-inthe90s · 10 years ago

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Dave Grohl-Fanfic-Chapter37

This is it, I’m back on the run! please let me know, feedback and like it if you want to see more?

After being in Portugal for almost two months, I felt a little calmer. I was starting to become myself again, I noticed a change in Tasha too, she smiled more and she laughed again, I saw her dimple more often. Her sisters came out to visit us and we spent all out time eating out and lounging on the beach. Tasha felt at home and in a way so did I. Everybody here was so amazingly kind and wonderful, they went out of their way to do anything for anybody. They all looked out for each other here. It was a real sense of community. Something that always lacked back home. I was often on the phone back home to mom, keeping her up to date. She became more worried for me when she heard. Music was still incredibly hard to be a part of. Pat had declared he was out of the whole industry and Krist’s alcohol problem got worse.

But I was being able to be around it more. Tasha and I had decided we would fly back home this weekend, I had something in mind, it was there for a while now, just there. I hadn’t yet spoken about it with Tasha. But I wanted too. I had everything I needed. I was just going to fucking do it. Otherwise it would be too late and I would lose the opportunity to go back to being me.

“Tash” I called from the bedroom, she had just finished washing her hair, and she walked in scrunching it with her towel, she smiled at me and looked calm. Refreshed.

“Sit down, I want to talk to you” sitting on the bed her eyebrows were furrowed.

“I’ve been doing things since we have been here, and it’s made me feel good... When we get back to Seattle, I’m going to call up Barrett” I said getting up I walked over to a drawer and pulled out a notebook. She opened it and starting reading through. It was all these songs I had written, over the past months we had been here. Some I was really proud of. I felt like I was slowly accomplishing something of my own. There were some old ones, I had written before, like I’ll Stick Around and Exhausted, one of Kurt’s favorite.

A smile beamed across her face and she looked up, her eyes were watering and she jumped on top of me giving me this warming hug.

“I’m so proud of you, these are fucking amazing! Fuck! I love you” She cried in my ear.

I rubbed her back and felt a smile come across me, to know I had her by my side throughout this made me so fucking happy, I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to have as my supporter.

“Oh Tash, I love you too” I said as I felt my eyes become watery. She then sat up and looked at me.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s a big step, you have to be comfortable with yourself to be ready for this, it’s a big jump. I’m confident in you that you know what you’re doing” She said as she took my hand holding it tightly.

“Yeah, I’m sure, I want to do this, I want to do it for him” I said, as I remembered I felt like there was a lump in my throat, I tried to swallow it but it didn’t work and the tears came rolling down, she looked at me and instantly too started to cry. It was the reminder of Kurt I had brought upon myself. Once more we were in the arms of each other trying to calm one another, she rubbed my back and told me it was going to be okay,

“You can do this Dave, I know you can, please don’t cry. I love you so much and it breaks my heart to see you like this, c’mon lets go grab a beer and sit on the beach for a bit” She said getting up ad taking my hand leading me into the kitchen. Rolling a tissue around her finger-tip she lightly pressed at my face, taking away the tears. She then looked at me pursing her lips, I put my hand along her cheek, kissing her I felt her warmth. She hummed against my lips and parted her lips slightly to allow entrance of my tongue. I danced around with hers and she lay her hands around my waist. Moving them slowly up and inside my top. Bringing it up she removed my top and unbuttoned my jeans. I was left in just my underwear and I picked her up and brought her to the bed, unravelling her towel I layed her down on the bed and passed my hand along her body and felt goose bumps arise from her skin. Our kisses became hungrier, biting on her lip I moved to kiss down her jaw and along her neck, sliding down I elicited her with kisses all down her body until I arrived at her opening, having a grip on her thighs, I swirled my tongue around and her head rolled back and a moan escaped her lips. Making firmer movement with my tongue her body tensed further and her moans became louder until she came, I moved further up to kiss her with her taste on my lips. Soon enough I had entered her and grinded my hips into her, She screamed and tugged on my hair. I held the bed frame to support the rocky ride we had embarked on.

“Fuck” I grunted as I made large fast pumps into her, she came again this time screaming,

“Dave!” She yelled into my ear.

I made my final pumps, crashing into her before I came and slammed my lips into her as I collapsed onto the bed beside her.

It had been a while since we had intimacy like that. Since everything had happened, it had become a little quiet in the bedroom. Here and there a kiss but nothing as passionate as that. I had been one of the first times in a long time I was able to feel her body like that. I missed it. I had craved it.

“That felt great” she said relieving a sigh.

Looking at her with a smirk she questioned me, I jumped over her and crashed my lips into her starting what we had just finished all over again

#Dave Grohl #dave grohl fan fiction #dave grohl fan fic #Kurt cobain #Krist Novoselic #courtney love #nirvana #foo fighters #fanfiction #fanfic

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the-deepestbluesareblack-fanfic · 8 years ago

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CHAPTER (41) FORTY-ONE

Not enough sorry’s in the world. I missed this though.

Tuesday

August 12th, 1997

Virginia

This had been the first time, since making her move to California, that she visited Virginia twice in a single year. Usually she would only go once a year, or not at all. She never had any business to go back. Visit old co-workers for a few days and disappear back to the L.A. madness was all the she seemed to be up for.

Anna went back to Virginia for nearly every single holiday; Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, family members birthdays. Her and Max always flew over and spent days with Anna’s family and Megan always kindly declined the nice offer from Anna’s mother to join them. She would rather be miserable with Andrew while watching old Christmas movies, then be miserable in a town that held good memories that made her miserable.

It was never a haunting or eerie feeling that would cast over her when she thought about going back to Virginia for a few days and she never grew uncomfortable while setting foot there, but it was the feeling of nostalgia that never seemed to wave away. She always wished she was seven years younger again and do things different. Take different chances. Maybe things turned out better this way.

Anna and Megan walked out of the airport, both clutching onto their luggage, looking around and hoping to quickly spot Lisa. Megan had agreed to stay in Lisa’s two bedroom apartment, while Anna would be staying at her mother’s house later that night. Dave’s mother offered Anna and Megan two spare rooms that used to belong to Lisa and Dave when they were still children, but they didn’t want to burden Ginny with trouble, although Ginny continuously reminded them that it was no trouble at all.

Megan, of course, got an open invite to stay with Anna’s mother, but wanted to take the chance to be with Lisa again. The two hadn’t been alone in years, even before her split with Dave.

“She’s over there,” Anna pointed out and Megan followed her stare, spotting Lisa waving at them from behind a shuttle bus. Megan waved back and followed Anna’s lead to where Lisa was waiting for them.

Lisa popped her trunk open so the girls could but their luggages in and greeted them properly once they were in place.

“Lisa!” Anna reacted before Megan could step forward. She wrapped her arms around Lisa and the hug looked nearly suffocating as Lisa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, but still managed to wrapped her arms around Anna as well. “It’s been seven years and it’s all Megan’s fault!”

“Nice,” Megan sighed as she hugged Lisa once Anna was done choking her.

“It’s true, Meg. You broke up with Dave and you broke everyone up with each other,” Lisa laughed. They all rounded the car, Megan making her way to the passenger seat, leaving Anna sitting alone in the back. “My mom’s pretty sad that you aren’t stay at her house, but she insisted on having you guys over for dinner. If you guys decline she’s going to make me drag you over there with an ax.”

Megan smiled and spoke, “If it’s her lasagna, I’m there.”

“Oh! Her lasagna! Megan, were you even thinking straight when you broke up with Dave and didn’t at least stay friends with him these past seven years!” Anna exclaimed.

Megan, still upholding a smile on her face, playfully rolled her eyes and scoffed, “I can assure you it won’t happen anytime soon.”

“She’s definitely making lasagna,” Lisa interjected. “Dave also called me to tell me to make sure you call him once you get to my place.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll do it. He was kind of bummed that I denied his hundredth invitation to Europe with them.”

“Oh no, poor Megan. To go to lousy Virginia to be with her best friend or to go to Europe for a week and a half with her rockstar boyfriend. Boo-hoo,” Anna faked sobbed.

Lisa chuckled as she continued down the road and Megan reached to the back seat to shove Anna’s shoulder farther into the seat.

“Shut up!” Megan exclaimed, not so easily hiding her laughter. Falling back into her seat she sighed, “I just didn’t want to go. They’re constantly moving around and it drains me. I don’t know how they do it, but it’s definitely not my favorite thing to do.”

“Yeah, but don’t you miss him? You guys have been back together for three months now, but how many of those days have you actually seen him? I mean, it’s a total bummer. You let him come and go for his job, but then he asks you to go with him and you say no. Then you mope around for those few days or you read twenty books in a week when you can just go with him. You’ve been stuck in your office for five years and this is the first time you’ve actually taken more than two days off. Dave finally got you to live a little!” Anna preached loudly in the back seat and Lisa nodded her head vigorously.

She let out a very enthusiastic, “Yes! I didn’t even know you’re life was so miserable, even with that jerk!”

Megan glared at Lisa with her arms crossed to her chest. It was a warning glare, not much intimidation in it. She just didn’t want to think of Andrew, especially while being in Virginia. She hadn’t heard of Andrew since the infamous night at The Whiskey and she has no idea where he could be. It was weird how he suddenly disappeared, without an explanation, but he just did. And Megan certainly liked it that way.

“Sorry to bring him up, but it’s true,” Lisa shrugged, an apologetic smile on his face. “Next time Dave asks you to go with him, do it. He’s missed you so much after you left him, I swear, the kid was a lost puppy. I can understand why he begs you to go with him everywhere. He hardly ever asked Jennifer to go with the band anywhere, she kind of just tagged along.

“God Megan, I was with him those seven years and I can confirm that he use to ask me all the time if I saw you anywhere while you were still living here. I kid you not, he told me one day he was going to wait for you outside your apartment building. The guy was about to go on stalker mode for you, it was crazy.”

“Well, when you say that last part, it kind of just makes him sound creepy,” Megan chuckled. “But I guess you’re kinda right, but I still have a job. I can’t just leave when I want to and I know you guys are going to pull that Jack Kelley card and how he’ll let me do anything, but it’s still not totally cool to just get paid for doing nothing, not even show my face in the building.”

“The troubling life of a rockstar’s girlfriend,” Anna playfully sighed. Megan proceeded to give her another shove on the shoulder and laughter filled the car.

“Don’t kill each other, because we have finally arrived to my apartment. Excuse the mess, but I don’t usually have guests, so it’s not up to scale,” Lisa announced as she turned off the car and went to the back to unlock the trunk so Megan could take out her luggage.

“Oh Lisa, when I met you, you were still living with your mother,” Megan stated as they walked to Lisa front door, and luckily for Megan, she lived on the first floor.

Shoving the key into its proper slot, Lisa said, “Oh Megan, when I met you, you were planning to rent a studio just a few blocks away from my mother’s house. And when you did, my brother decided to mooch off of your tiled floor.”

“And now he wants her to mooch off of his diamond jacuzzi,” Anna announced, while following Megan into Lisa’s apartment that was spotless, unlike her previous description.

“Diamond jacuzzi, I like that one,” Lisa spoke to herself as she closed and locked the door behind her.

“He doesn’t even have a pool at his house,” Megan defended, “Well, yet. He wants to put one in, but he was thinking to wait until after the tour.”

“Don’t forget to call him before he has a fucking fit,” Lisa advised as she picked up Megan’s luggage, “I’ll take this to where you’ll be staying while you do that. By the way, it’s the room on the right, it has it’s own bathroom.”

Megan nodded as she approached the phone that sat next to the sofa. Before she could even pick the phone up from the receiver, the phone started to aggressively ring and Lisa yelled from the other room, telling her to go ahead and answer. She was sure it was Dave.

Picking up the phone and pressing it to her ear, before she could even open her mouth to speak, she heard Dave’s voice say, “Hello?”

“Have you been waiting by the phone this whole time?” Megan jokingly asked.

“I’d be a sinner if I denied the truth,” he answer, a small chuckle following after. “Good flight?”

“Yeah, it was fine. How are things going over there?” Megan asked.

“Oh, everything fine. California sun treating us ju-uuust right,” she immediately sensed a tone of uncertainty in his voice. As though his reply didn’t match his tone.

“Are you sure everything’s fine? You sound… off?” Megan commented, though hoping his answer would hold no bad news.

“Megan, nothing’s wrong, I promise. Go have fun with Lisa and Anna, I’ll call you when I land tomorrow. I don’t know how the time difference is going to work out, but we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about a thing,” he assured her and found a sense of peace in tone this time and his reply.

“Alright, alright. I’ll talk to you later,” she said before hanging up the phone.

Though, being skeptical at first, she was sure there was no reason for her to be worried about anything going on back home. Everything was in order and dealt with. Dave was leaving to Europe early in the morning and Megan was going back to her old job tomorrow to see Mark after two years of being a complete ghost.

To Megan’s greatest surprise, it was the first time in forever, that she was able to finally feel in control of her life. She finally got to realize all the greatest thing she had accomplished so long ago. She finally gave herself that firm pat on the back that no one ever really imprinted onto her. She worked hard and she deserved to enjoy a few days off with Dave in another state or country. She knew she did.

“What’s the point in doing all of this?” asked Margaret, uttering her first frustrating words since leaving Megan’s office with Dave and Taylor.

They were standing in Megan’s kitchen, Dave putting the phone back onto the receiver after speaking to Megan. Dave’s suspicions were heightening quickly and he was convinced that binge watching The X-Files for so many years caused him to grow great paranoia when a note, as subtle as the one resting in Megan’s drawer, caused him to investigate in the few hours that he was able to. And still, thinking of the note gave him unwavering goosebumps in the back of his neck. He didn’t know what was in that drawer and he didn’t know why it was so important that someone, who they can’t put a name or face to, would pick Megan’s lock and take it.

Dave let his eyes scan the familiar surrounding in being in Megan’s home. The familiar scent of her vanilla perfume and her lavender candles that blended well together just below his nose. They stood quiet, allowing Dave to collect his scrabbling thoughts. He still couldn’t find the proper words to express his shaking nerves.

Dave didn’t know where to start with what he felt like he knew because, truth be told, Dave knew nothing. All he could “prove” to them was that Megan was hiding something in that drawer - which at this point, cannot be argued because a mysterious being left behind a note telling them that he/she took whatever was molding up in there - and that she suspiciously brought up how she wasn’t happy when she first heard the news that he was engaged to Jennifer. While furiously driving to Megan’s house from her office, Dave concluded that the time had to be between 1992 or 1993, no later than that.

He didn’t want to think Megan was lying to him, and he certainly didn’t want to prove to the many people who loved both of them - which was too much of a long list for Dave to think of - that Megan was simmering up something behind his back. He didn’t want to be right in a situation like this, but he certainly didn’t want to be played a fool while everyone sat in the front row. He held his head too high for that.

Though truthfully, he hoped she held a good explanation for making him feel like a dog chasing its own tail. He didn’t want their second round into a relationship to be the troubling one. He wanted to feel a sense of nostalgic happiness when he was with her, although him and nostalgia aren’t the two greatest pals. He just wanted 1989 back. He would trade every single day since their last day together back, just so he wouldn’t have continuously made mistake after mistake once she left. But knowing the way Megan is always right about any given situation, even the ones where an emotional scar can be imprinted on for years, her and Dave knew that his most important decision was to stay in Nirvana. He knows he wouldn’t have traded that in.

It’s just not fair. No secrets would be hidden from us and no weird notes would be laying around in random places. Where the fuck did we go wrong?

Dave began to seriously question his actions and mistakes when he first decided to dive back into Megan’s life so quickly and so confidently. Maybe he should have waited longer, let the tour go on for a while longer and taken it all in slow strides.

But his heart surely got the best of him, like it always did. It was just the thought of just seeing Megan again caused his stomach to do flips that he could do with his own two feet, and being able to see Megan with his own two eyes without Andrew babbling on about ridiculous stories just to make his jealous. He felt like he could be on top of the world again, the exact same feeling when he was just twenty and twenty-one. He remembered when he felt unstoppable because he found the most encouraging and beautiful missing link to his life and he finally got her back. He finally got his second try.

But that’s why Dave’s relationship with nostalgia is a rocking ship riding through torrential waves. He broke his heart everytime he thought of those days when he would wake up as the most optimistic drummer in the world. He didn’t feel like anyone or anything could ever stop him from living his dream. It just slowly came crashing down as the years went by and when Kurt died, he thought it was an impossible castle of confidence to rebuilt.

Sometimes, he could still hear Megan telling him the words that broke his heart. Just standing in her kitchen makes it feel like she could say them all over again.

His eyes haven’t stop wandering to random visible parts of her small house that he was standing in, thinking of riding them both of this house. He knew it wasn’t going to be done anytime soon, not as long as he was back and forth between L.A. and the rest of the world, but within a year he hoped he wouldn’t have to be standing in the very spot he was in.

Dave was able to spot the white cardboard box lazily thrown onto the ground, most probably untouched and completely forgotten, and his regrets of even telling her they existed were washing over him greatly. She probably didn’t see much importance in them like Dave did, but maybe that’s because she never opened at least one of them. He never seemed to ask her if she did or not.

Without words being exchanged within in the trio, Margaret followed Dave’s gaze that was still situated on the box and looked over to Taylor with a questionable stare. He only shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to be the first one to speak in what felt like hours or explain what the box contains.

“What’s in the box?” Margaret finally broke the silence that was nagging at her head as they stood in the same place since they arrived.

Dave cleared his throat, and threw his shoulders back, hoping to feel a shudder of confidence roll over him, but nothing. He was still feeling hopelessly vulnerable and he didn’t know a thing that could fix it; only the missing truth.

“I wrote her a bunch of letters when I was still married, I just never sent them to her. They just laid around my house when I lived in Seattle.”

“Those are the letters?” Margaret surprisingly asked, “Can I read them? If you wrote about Andrew, I can probably piece some things together for you if you are so keen on thinking Megan is hiding something from you. Though it’s not my place to even tell you what it is, I can feel you sweating from here just thinking about it.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, almost in shock that Margaret would actually be on his side on this. Although Dave would tell you there are no sides, he just couldn’t register the fact that Margaret was willing to help him figure out something that they had no real leads had him feeling he was already a step closer to answering his own questions.

Dave is sure Megan has told Margaret everything there is to know between her and Dave and her and Andrew. Margaret is like a walking encyclopedia of Megan’s life.

“Wait, is that even a good idea? If you do find something out and Megan knows you told us what it was, that’s going to strain some things. Are you sure you want to possibly get fired from your job just to help Dave’s random phase of paranoia?” Taylor asked, a single, lanky hand on his hip. Taylor shrugged at Dave, who was giving him a glare of annoyance and anger, “You gotta be fair here, man. You’re going to be fucking yourself over if you start hammering down what you find out about Megan - if there’s even anything that needs to be figured out - and you’re going to fuck Margaret over just because you’re totally selfish. Then, I’m going to get fucked over because she’ll be pointing fingers at me and I don’t even want to be in this mess.”

Dave rolled his eyes and although his clueless friend had a sincere point, his selfishness only bubbled in him more, but he still wasn’t going to let his knowing guard down so easily. He knew there was something there and he wasn’t sure where he had to keep looking to find it. But he was confident he was.

Dave looked over at Margaret, who was fiddling with the hem of her shirt and avoiding eye contact with the two men in the room. She was probably feeling the same way Dave was feeling. Tied to Taylor’s words.

“I can’t tell you what I know, Dave. I don’t know what Megan had hidden in that drawer. I knew nothing about that, but what I know now about anything that happened in the past seven years, I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you because Megan is my best friend, but more importantly, she’s also my boss. I won’t risk my friendship or my job to help you fulfill this nasty picture of Megan you painted,” Margaret spoke out to the silent home and Dave felt goosebumps rise in his neck and spine. “Please take me home. Don’t tell Megan I was ever with you guys today and don’t try and get in contact with me while you’re in Europe if you’re only interested in knowing my knowledge of anything.”

Dave only nodded his head as he registered Margaret’s words that fell so bitterly from her tongue. He aimed his eyes towards the floor, unsettling chills rising and falling all around him - all around the room.

What I know now about anything that happened in the past seven years, I can’t tell you.

It rang in his ears, and it vibrated throughout his body, and it hung in the air right above his head, and it clutched tightly to him as he dropped off Margaret back at the office, and it stung at his throat as he laid in bed for hours after arriving back to his house.

Just as he suspected, there was truth into what he was believing, but he was yet to solve the missing piece of the puzzle. Margaret didn’t even let another word fall from her mouth through the entire car ride and she stepped out of the car without even giving him a glance. Asking Margaret, even begging her, would only be a waste of time. She wasn’t going to do a thing to help Dave, and she had a fair point.

He couldn’t ask Taylor, because Dave knew Taylor was the last person who wanted to get lassoed into Dave’s personal situation. He had to stop making a habit into attempting to create an army against something that could potentially be nonexistent.

So, he busied himself. He cleaned his house, although much cleaning wasn’t needed to be done. He rearranged furniture in the living room, disposed of all molded/expired food from the refrigerator, put up the new shower curtains he had been meaning to do for months. He even organized his shoes by pairs in his clothes, which is very unlike for Dave, but he was willing to do anything just to not let his mind wander off to the malicious painting he made of Megan. Now it was just torturing him.

Dave decided a shower. A quick, simple shower to wash away all the bad things. Cleanse his mind, body and soul from a simple morning with Megan to a dark evening gone bad. He didn’t even want to think about confronting Megan. He wasn’t even sure if a quick goodnight call was in toll. He just felt too shaken to do anything.

Turning on the hot water in the shower, he stripped down from his clothing. Starting with his shirt, down to his jeans. Throwing his jeans onto his shirt that was already on the ground, a post it not fluttered out from one of the pockets.

It was the note found in Megan’s office. Unfolding it, to re-read the cryptic note, it only sent another set of chills down his spine. He couldn’t think of anyone who could be so eerie, so dark and so cruel to even leave the slightest hint of their presence in Megan’s office. He couldn’t think of anyone who was in need of getting their hands on whatever was in that office.

Angrily stuffing it back into his pants, carelessly flinging them back onto the floor, he stepped into the shower. He let the hot water fall onto every inch of his body, as he stood directly under it. The heated water felt good on his skin, he wanted it to burn all the bad thoughts away. He wanted to sleep good tonight. He wanted to start off the European leg of the tour on a good note. He didn’t want to start feeling angry and bitter over an invisible phenomena.

After lathering himself with his heavy scented soap, shampooing his hair aggressively and thinking of every questionable scenario with Megan since they reunited, he decided to leave today where it left off. He was going to pick up when he got back from his tour. He was going to forget today, forget his doubts, and do everything in his power to not let a cynical note ruin his relationship and his tour.

Wrapping a warm towel around his waist, he walked out of the steam filled bathroom and selected a pair of underwear from his grand selection. Stepping into them and lazily letting his towel sit on the floor, not caring if it’ll not smell pleasant the next day, he walked over to his bed.

The safest place a person can feel happiness in. Slip into their cozy nook, let their thoughts fly away just by resting their head on their favorite pillow. Even alone, a bed is where someone can end a bad day, in a relaxed way. Dave was mostly looking forward to that feeling after his shower.

But that ended all too quickly for Dave when another post it note, very similar to the one he discovered in Megan’s office, was resting on his bed, covering something that sat underneath it. Before he even leaned in closer to even get a peek at the lightly written words, he stormed over to his closet and put on any pair of pants and any shirt.

Hurriedly running downstairs, in his dark house, he went into the kitchen and quickly retrieved his broom that sat next to his fridge. He began to quietly walk out into the living room. He left all the lights off, hoping whoever the mysterious intruder was didn’t leave so soon. He looked behind sofas and chairs, under tables and inside kitchen cabinets - nothing. He checked the downstair guestroom and no one had been their since his mother last visited.

Maybe outside, Dave thought to himself and he tiptoed out through the side door. He didn’t know if he should start from the back and make his way to the front, not knowing if the intruder came in by foot or car, but he decided to head to the front of the house anyways.

Stepping over tall grass and small tree branches, he saw no car, other than his own, parked in the driveway. He walked out by the sidewalk, no sign of any car being driven up and down the nearly isolated street.

Deciding to skip the backyard, knowing it would be impossible to even enter or escape from the high fences, Dave went back inside and securely locked the door with all locks possible on the door.

Still being as quiet as possible, he ran up the stairs two steps at a time and decided to check the remainder upstairs guest room, but no sign of anyone entering was their - not even the bathroom. The entire house sat vacant, with only a frantic Dave standing in it.

With his sweaty palms and shaking knees, he made sure every single door was locked and made sure the security system was on and running, just like it was when he was in the shower, or he thought it was.

Deciding that the intruder escaped, he unclutched the broom and let it lean on his nightstand - for safety reasons - and let himself face whatever was mocking him that lay on his “untouched” bed.

Picking it by the tip of his fingers, his shaking grip, the post-it read, Keep your friends closer and your enemies even closer.

Dave felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and his jaw clenched so tightly, his teeth were digging so deeply into his tongue. But he knew it wasn’t over. He noticed the post-it was covering a small polaroid picture. He peeled the paper off and revealed the photo.

It was Dave and Andrew, facing each other, Dave’s arms hanging loosely from his hips, possibly bored and tired of the words Andrew was spewing onto him. Andrew was plastered with an eager smile on his face, towering over Dave by a few inches and his muscular built. Dave believed it was circa 1993, during Nirvana’s In Utero tour. Under it, scribbled with the same writing on both post-its, read: Know your enemies. Signed, X

Then it all made sense to Dave. Andrew decided to keep a low profile until now, because it was Andrew, and Andrew needed to get what was inside Megan’s desk.

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