OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohl

one-hundred-twenty.

SEPTEMBER 7th, 2000, LOS ANGELES, CA

          EXCITEMENT PRICKLED AN electrifying course all the way down to Dave's fingertips as he bounded up the driveway to his old house. He knew that behind the brick walls, the two people that he'd been vying to see the most over the last year were inside.

It had felt like forever. Years, even. In reality it hadn't been, but for Dave, the stretch of time that he'd gone without seeing Gracie had been unbearable. For some reason, his latest tour with the Foo Fighters had felt like the longest ever and he'd found himself missing Los Angeles and the objects of his affection that called the city home.

He'd been counting down the days, the minutes, until he got to see Gracie again, but Reagan had inevitably been included in his constant longing. His conscious told him that it was wrong to lump her into that equation, but he couldn't help it. He felt . . . optimistic.

The tour had put some necessary distance between them, allowing for time spent away from each other to lick their wounds from the fallout after the divorce. Reagan had gotten the chance to live her life without endlessly waiting for his return home, and he had gotten a taste of what it was like to be single on the road.

It hadn't taken long for him to decide that he was an advocate for monogamy, at least if it was with her. He hoped that she'd made a choice too, a choice centered around her missing him as much as he'd missed her. He'd dutifully upheld his side of the bargain that had been written out in those fucking papers that they'd signed and now, Dave wanted to put it past them.

As hopeful as he was, he knew that they'd have to take it slowly. He certainly didn't expect Reagan to fly directly into his arms the second that she saw him, but he did hold onto the idea that time away from him had worked its magic on her.

He hoped that she would look at him, face to face, and feel some spark of the old feelings that they'd once shared. The whole way back to L.A., he'd envisioned the look that would glaze her eyes when she saw him again, the smile that would bloom slowly across her face in a silent but sweet form of 'welcome home.'

It was a good thing that he wasn't returning to the tour until early October. He had a month to spend with his daughter and if he was lucky, his ex-wife. He'd reasoned that Reagan wouldn't have to make any immediate decisions. As long as she got to see him again, to see in person how much he'd missed her, than things would work out the way he'd intended them to. There hasn't been any harm on trying to look at the bright side of things.

Taylor had told him that he was being stupid as soon as he'd let on to his scheme. What he'd really said was that Dave's imagination was working 'ass-backwards,' but Dave had ignored him, determined to cling to his very last shred of hope that he'd get Reagan, as well as the three-part unit that he considered his family, back.

So much time had passed. During it all, he had missed her like hell, never able to wipe his mind clean of her no matter how many groupies he ran through or how many shows he played. She still had her fingerprints spotted on every facet of his heart and soul and he was ready to work on things with her, as long as she was ready to as well.

As he made his way up the winding path to their front door, he thought about Gracie and what he had planned for them both that week. He'd been in such a bright mood that he'd purchased tickets to Disneyland, figuring a two day trip to Anaheim with her wouldn't be such a bad idea. She was going to flip.

Sunset basked the front doorstep in a faint glow as Dave approached it, swallowing nervously in preparation to announce his arrival. Reagan knew that he was coming, being that he'd phoned her four days earlier asking if he could pick up Gracie when he got back home, but that didn't fully settle his anxiety.