Chapter Text
JULY ‘77
“Let’s just stay alive a little bit longer.”
Easier said than done, when you’re left cold and alone by someone who vowed never to hurt you. Daisy thinks she’s coming back to herself bit by bit. The comedown was hard, even with her little rules to get through the day. She’s counting now, every pill, every line, because if she doesn’t Billy will. He’s been treating her like spun glass for the past month since Nicky left, they all have, and Daisy’s about ready to burst. She’d only stayed in Billy’s bus the first few nights after everything, feeling like a sailor trying to get her sea legs back. Then Billy had a talk with Graham and now the band goes out if they’re still keyed up after a show, leaving Daisy to her peaceful (hollow) sanctuary (box). But tonight…tonight is hard. Despite her bravado in front of the crowd and Rod – “I’m the fire. – Daisy knows she can’t sleep in this bed and not break her rules.
She’s testing herself, you see, trying to figure out if she can sleep without the aid of quaaludes. It’s not going very well. Daisy huffs and throws the blankets back, wrapping a soft pashmina around her shoulders. Suitably warm, she makes the short journey to Billy’s bus for the first time in days. He’s no longer surprised when she makes herself at home on his brooding couch and she’s no longer surprised that he’s watching MASH again.
“Seriously, there’s other stuff on TV. I’m pretty sure it’s Saturday, you could at least turn on SNL.” Daisy says primly, smirking at him as she arranges the pashmina to drape over her legs and feet.
“You’re pretty sure?” Billy shakes his head, more than familiar with Daisy’s inability to keep time after months on tour.
Daisy doesn’t respond, just rests her head on the couch and watches with him. She’s beyond being offended by it, really. It’s actually kind of funny. Honestly, if her cycle wasn’t as regular as it is, Daisy doesn’t think she’d be able to tell as the months passed. Daisy clearly remembers her last period, mostly because it had been so damn inconvenient on the road. Rod had to send somebody out for tampons and she’d done a whole show with debilitating cramps. And that was…that was roughly two months ago.
She jolts up. The action makes Billy look at her wearily. She stares back at him, counting back the days and praying that it isn’t true.
“Daisy, what-”
“I have to go to the bathroom!”
“Uh, okay?”
Daisy can’t feel her body, she’s not tethered to this plane. She floats into the bathroom and slams the door shut. Okay, so she’s missed her period. That doesn’t mean anything, it’s been a stressful month. Nearly dying, throwing your piece of shit husband out, and performing for hours most nights will tire a body out. Daisy frantically thinks back to the other symptoms, the things other girls would complain about, because this happened to other girls not Daisy fucking Jones.
If she were pregnant she would know. That’s a thing. Women just get a feeling and don’t even need a doctor to confirm it, they all just know they’ve created life. Except those women aren’t usually drug-addicted rockstars who already feel sick every morning because they don’t eat breakfast, who haven’t noticed they’re filling out their costumes more than usual despite weeks of barely eating anything at all.
“Fuck!”
Daisy starts crying. She hates her life and the soap opera it’s become since she joined this fucking band. She hates Nicky for doing this to her, leaving this last parting gift on top of everything else. And, more urgently, Daisy is not meant to be a mother. She knows this. She feels it in her marrow. She can’t handle a baby because she can barely take of herself. Case in point, six weeks ago she couldn’t be trusted not to accidentally off herself.
“Fuck,” Daisy says again, more softly. Her next thought is even more terrifying – is the baby okay? Overdosing on an unknown mixture of drugs and having to be brought back from the brink seems like something that would harm an unborn fetus, but she’s never been a mom so how would she know?
There’s a tentative knock that makes the flimsy bathroom door rattle. “Daisy? You okay?”
Fucking no. She might be pregnant and there’s a summer storm of feeling rolling through her because of it: protectiveness, shame, and an overwhelming amount of love. Daisy doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t even know who to ask.
Billy barges in as he is wont to do and normally Daisy would have a quip ready but not now. She just stays hunched over on the toilet and cries.
“What’s wrong?” He asks urgently, crouching down and somehow wedging himself into the space between her and the wall. His hands cup her knees. Daisy can’t say any of this out loud, so she just shakes her head.
“I can’t help unless you talk to me.”
“You can’t help. Not with this.”
“But maybe I know someone who could,” he insists, taking her hands away from her face. The look in his eyes is so soft, so caring, that Daisy almost can’t stand it. It occurs to her that Billy actually does know someone who could help her.
“I want to talk to Camila.”
~
Billy is initially resistant to the idea but Daisy refuses to say another word, refuses to even get out of the bathroom unless it’s to get Camila on the phone, so he acquiesces. There’s no phone on the bus so he takes her to the payphone nearby and dials home. Daisy chews her thumbnail while he does, daydreaming about the sweet bliss of quaaludes and then wondering if prescription drugs are bad for the baby.
“Daisy?” Billy says with a tone that indicates he’s said her name several times. He holds the phone out to her. She knows he’s confused and worried. She wonders what he told Camila.
Daisy takes the phone and glares at him when he doesn’t immediately vacate the area. Billy huffs and takes several large steps back. When he’s a couple of yards away he spreads his arms to either side and raises his eyebrows. Happy now?
It’s good enough.
Daisy tosses her hair back and raises the phone to her ear. “Camila?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” she sounds barely conscious, and is clearly fighting sleep back, and Daisy feels a stab of guilt at waking her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what time it is back home.”
Camila hums and Daisy hears rustling on the other side, maybe a door closing. “It’s alright, I’m used to it. What’s up? Billy said you were upset.”
Daisy casts a glance at Billy who is very clearly trying to eavesdrop. She turns her back on him and clutches the phone closer.
“I think I’m pregnant,” she whispers. It’s a miracle her knees don’t buckle. “And I’m all alone and I don’t know what I’m doing. I really wish I could talk to my mom, actually, but that’s not an option so…”
So here they are, two women caught up in the same man, who hold different pieces of him just like they hold pieces of each other. Daisy knows there are things she innately understands about Camila that Billy will never even know.
It is this understanding that means Daisy understands what Camila’s sharp intake of breath means. She knows the question that neither of them wants her to ask. For reasons they will never, ever acknowledge Daisy adds, “It’s Nicky’s.”
Camila starts breathing again. There’s a thunk on the other line.
“I know, Daisy,” Camila says gently.
“I don’t know what to do.” Please tell me what to do.
“You have options, Daisy, and you have us.” Daisy has never been more grateful for Camila’s strength. She finds herself nodding along even though the other woman can’t see her. “But there’s no use thinking about any of those things until we know for sure. Take a test and then we’ll go from there.”
“Okay,” Daisy nods, relieved that there’s someone around with a good head on her shoulders.
“And Daisy? For what it’s worth I think you’d be a really good mom. I really believe that,” Camila says.
Daisy doesn’t believe her but she doesn’t have to right now. The test could come back negative. She resolutely ignores the pang in her chest at the thought. Daisy says goodbye to Camila, apologizes again for waking her up in the middle of the night, and hangs up the phone.
Billy drifts closer, eyes scanning over her with that ever-present worry. She wishes he would stop looking at her like that. She wishes he would look at her forever.
“So?”
“I need to get a pregnancy test.”
~
Rod takes care of it. Billy offers to go get it for her immediately but that plan is quickly scrapped.
“This already looks bad, okay, I do not need some particularly stupid cashier to say she saw Billy Dunne buying a pregnancy test in North Carolina when his wife is in California. Trust me.” Rod shakes his head and stands.
“I’m suing you both for emotional distress, by the way,” he says on his way out.
Billy hovers, hands alternating between resting on his hips and swiping at his mouth. He wants to help but it’s making her anxious.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You’re fidgeting and smothering me. Stop.” Daisy knows she’s lashing out, being rude, but she can’t help it. This isn’t about him, he doesn’t get to be this stressed out.
“I’m just concerned, Daisy. This is what it looks like when I’m worried.”
“Well it’s fucking annoying,” she grumbles. It’s not as fun snapping at him when he doesn’t push back.
Billy makes a soft apology and finally sits next to her. The fidgeting transfers to his leg. Daisy decides that’s alright so long as he doesn’t talk. She closes her eyes and tries to take some deep breaths.
“Um, do you have a good address for…for Nicky? We could send word, if your test comes back positive, let him know.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
Daisy looks at him, at the tense strain of his shoulders, the way he’s studying his hands. He looks like he’s in pain, so much so that Daisy wonders why he would even bring it up if he hates the idea of it that much. It’s also just about the dumbest thing he’s ever said, and that’s saying something. If there’s anything Daisy knows right now it’s that she doesn’t want Nicky anywhere near her or any possible child that currently lives inside her.
“I don’t know, I just…maybe it would make him get his act together. Maybe you could be a family.”
“Like you and Camila?” Daisy asks pointedly. He flinches. “You know it wouldn’t matter. And even if it did, what he did was…unforgivable.”
“I know,” Billy huffs a bitter laugh, “I was there.”
Now it’s Daisy’s turn to fidget. She still doesn’t remember much, just cold blank nothingness and then an explosion of feeling. Specifically, the feeling of arms around her as her torso moved in time with someone else’s breathing. The feeling of safety and relief when she realized who exactly was holding her.
“I just can’t imagine not wanting to know. If you…if anybody had a piece of me with them, I would want to know. I would want the chance to be a good man.”
Daisy smiles. “Yeah, well, Nicky’s nothing like you, Billy. That was kind of the entire point.”
He nods. There’s more they could say on the subject but that’s not their way. Their entire relationship is built on an innate understanding of each other, of not having to voice every thought or whim. It runs pretty smoothly too until one of them starts denying everything they are to the other.
“You know if you’re going to do this…you can’t keep using.” Billy’s voice is firm and he makes sure to hold her gaze, letting her know he means it.
“What makes you so certain I’m keeping it?”
Billy scoffs.
“Come on, Daisy, I know you.” And there’s something about the way he says it, like it’s an immutable fact, that makes her heart stutter. “All you’ve ever wanted is to be a part of a family. I know the circumstances aren’t great but…you can wait your whole life and never find the right moment to do something, no matter how much you wish for it. I think we’re all just trying to make the best of what we’ve got.”
“I’m scared,” Daisy admits. “I don’t know how to do this. I didn’t exactly have a great role model growing up.”
There are a lot of reasons why she shouldn’t, so many that she hasn’t bothered to list them off in her head. Even at her happiest with Nicky, she never imagined them with children. He’d never seemed interested and she’d been too shy to ask. And it’s true that she doesn’t know how to be a mother, spending a few moments in the presence of Camila Dunne doesn’t change that. She has an unconventional career and a label that expects her to be sexy but accessible, sultry but innocent. That’s gonna be hard to do when she’s six months pregnant. But all of those things pale in comparison to one thing: despite all of that, the moment she realized there was a chance it could be true Daisy realized she wanted to be a mother more than anything.
“Me neither,” he says, a corner of his mouth tilting up. “When Camila told me she was pregnant I was convinced that I would be a horrible father. And I was, for a while, but…the love was always there, you know? I always loved Julia. I was just scared of what that meant, of what she would need from me. And Daisy, I know you’re scared but you’ve never let that stop you before.”
A tear slides down her face but Daisy doesn’t wipe it away.
“That’s really how you see me?”
“Of course.”
She doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say except, “Thank you.”
Rod eventually returns with the pregnancy test and Daisy takes it, bewildered that she has to pee on a stick and then keep the stick. A few minutes later, it confirms what she already knows. She’s pregnant.
When she tells Rod and Billy, Billy grins at her with shining eyes. Rod groans like he’s been shot.
~
“Okay look, Daisy has something to say and we’re all going to sit quietly and let her say it,” Billy orders, pacing in front of the band with his hands on his hips. Daisy was never reprimanded by her father, he pretty much acted like she didn’t exist, but she imagines that this is a good approximation of the experience.
The group exchanges a look and Warren snorts. “What are Mommy and Daddy getting a divorce?”
“I thought you two were getting along again,” Graham says nervously. The poor man probably can’t handle any more conflict.
Daisy tilts her head and squints at Warren. “I’m pregnant. And I’m keeping it.”
The stunned silence is expected. She really didn’t think there’d be an explosion of cheering or anything like that. Collectively they’ve all been getting along more lately but there are still cautious moments, where none of them know quite what to say. This appears to be one of those moments. Karen is very still. Graham and Warren actually look happy. Daisy can see Warren positively itching to hug her. These are all foreseeable reactions. The only wild card, really, is Eddie.
He, incidentally, leaps from the couch and gets in Billy’s face. “Are you seriously that stupid, you son of a bitch? You couldn’t even bother to be careful?”
Billy rears back. “It isn’t mine!”
There are varying degrees of disbelief across everyone’s faces. Rod especially, who in all the chaos of the past couple of days has made it a point not to ask. Daisy feels the hysterical urge to laugh. Does everyone think they’ve been sleeping together the entire time? Wouldn’t that have been simpler…
Daisy comes to Billy’s defense. “First of all, there’s no way it could be Billy’s because we’ve never slept together. Secondly, I’m eight weeks along, thanks for asking. And thirdly, fuck all of you. Including you.”
“Me?” Billy asks. “What did I do?”
“Nothing yet, but the night’s still young.”
Warren takes Billy’s flustered laugh as an opportunity to cross enemy lines. He folds Daisy into a hug which she gratefully accepts.
“Congratulations, Daisy, really.” Warren gives her a careful squeeze before pulling away. “We’re having a tour baby! I’ve heard of other bands having tour dogs, but I think this is a first.”
Daisy laughs but whacks him on the arm anyway. “Don’t compare my baby to a dog!”
Eddie slips in next, looking contrite. Daisy really is fond of him. Despite his many, many grievances with the world, she thinks he has a good heart. “Sorry. Congratulations.”
Graham’s embrace is brief but heartfelt and Karen clings to her. She’s grateful none of them have asked if she’ll leave. She’d thought about it, for a split second, before realizing that if she, or any of them, derail this tour they will never work again. The label will burn them to the ground. And there’s also the issue that she doesn’t fucking want to. If she’s going to be a mother, it’s going to be on her terms. She won’t adhere to anybody else’s expectations. The doctor said her due date is sometime in February and that he didn’t recommend “strenuous activity” past the third trimester. That leaves them with five months to finish the tour. Daisy will not entertain any reality in which she doesn’t get to have this baby and also have her career. The universe has denied her a lot of things but it won’t deny her this. She won’t let it.
____________________________________________________
AUGUST ‘77
The tour continues mostly without incident. No one can tell just from looking at Daisy that she’s pregnant yet, which she greatly appreciates. A lot of time and effort went into picking her tour costumes and she will not give them up until she absolutely has to. They’ve got SNL slated for September to round out their east coast tour. The world will know then. But right now, it’s a secret for her and her family to share. Although, she’s not sure how long it will remain a secret if Billy keeps acting like this.
“Thank you, Atlanta!” Daisy calls, waving and keeping a happy smile on her face while Billy pulls her backstage.
“Are you doing okay? You haven’t had water since the top of the set.” Daisy rolls her eyes while Billy does his customary evaluation of her health, scanning over her body and only briefly fixating on her bump. It had shown up a couple of weeks ago. It’s hardly noticeable unless you know it's there but Daisy had rushed straight to his hotel room the moment she’d noticed. She’d had to tell somebody.
“Billy I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t overexert yourself. Why don’t you just sit down for a second, we’ll do one of our old slow songs tonight not Two Against Three.”
Daisy raises an eyebrow. “You guys don’t have any slow songs.”
“Yes we do,” Billy insists, trying to get her to sit on some equipment. A roady walks by and hands him a bottle of water. Billy takes a swig before handing it to her. “You know, we had an entire album before you came along.”
“Yeah and I’ve listened to it. There’s nothing slow.” Their first album was bombastic, with every person giving their all in every song. Daisy had listened to it while she was writing her version of Look At Us Now, trying to figure out Billy’s voice so she could write for him better. It had reeked of desperation and rage. She’d been immediately jealous that someone else had created it.
“Then I’ll do something new.”
Daisy sips the water, carefully studying the man in front of her. “You don’t have anything new.”
“Maybe I do.”
“Since when?”
“I don’t know, not that long ago.”
Daisy is absurdly offended that he’s written something and hasn’t shown her yet. She didn’t even know he was writing again.
“Then show me,” she orders, nodding back to the stage. The crowd is going crazy waiting for them to come back, the way they always are during the mid-set break. The lull is necessary so some of them can have a breather, particularly Warren and Graham. “Out there.”
Billy looks nervous, skittish in a way she’s never seen him. “And you’ll stay here?”
“Yes, Billy, I will stay right here and drink my water like a good invalid.”
His face breaks into a frankly ridiculous grin. “Great!”
He turns and grabs his acoustic guitar, barely stopping to tell Eddie that they’re changing the set so Daisy can rest. Eddie doesn’t argue for once, just glances at Daisy for a second before stepping aside to let Billy pass.
Daisy watches from offstage as Billy walks up to his mic, basking in the attention of the crowd. He comes alive up there, just like she does, and becomes something new and more. It’s like they become a story, not real people, the second the set starts. Although she considers, that’s not necessarily true. Sometimes it feels like they can only be themselves when thousands are watching.
“It has been such a great night! You’ve been an amazing crowd.” Billy pauses as the roar of the crowd surges momentarily. “We wanted to pay you back with a new, never before heard song.”
Daisy laughs as the noise skyrockets, the crowd going insane at Billy’s announcement. He’ll be lucky if they quiet down enough to hear him. When the crowd does die down, Billy quickly glances offstage. Daisy gives him an encouraging smile.
“This is called Save Yourself,” he says and starts to play a soft melody. Daisy closes her eyes as he sings. God, she loves Billy’s voice. It’s so smooth and capable of showing so much emotion. Right now, he sounds crooning and sorrowful. Entreating.
“Well, there is more than meets the eye, heart like yours is rare to find. Someone else’s gain will be my loss.”
As the song continues, Daisy understands what he’s trying to say. It’s about begging someone to leave you because you’re not strong enough to leave yourself. It’s the other side of Please, the resigned acceptance that follows denial. She wonders when exactly he wrote it.
“Yes darling, save yourself. Oh, won’t you save yourself? Go on and save yourself for someone else.” The song slowly comes to an end as Billy sings the same phrase over and over, asking himself if he’s going to break. He sings like he already knows the answer.
The crowd loves it, going to ever higher decibels to show their appreciation. Billy looks bashful as he thanks them for listening. The others take their cue to go back on stage. Daisy wipes her eyes and follows.
~
The upside to being pregnant in a rock band is that there’s no shortage of people awake at all hours of the night to get her french fries and pickle juice to go with her vanilla ice cream.
“I’m having your baby, it’s none of your business,” Daisy sings to herself as she picks through her fries, looking for the crispiest ones to dip into her ice cream.
“What’s that you’re singing?” Karen asks, picking at Daisy’s fries as well. Karen has exclusive privileges as the only other uterus owner in the band. Karen understands the horrors of womanhood and Daisy looks the other way when she steals the biggest fries.
“I don’t know yet. I haven’t really sat down to work on it. Right now it’s just a couple of phrases rolling around my head.”
Karen nods but doesn’t make any other efforts to keep the conversation going. Of everyone in the band, Karen has kept the most distance since Daisy told everyone she was keeping the baby. Graham hasn’t said much, he never has around Daisy, but he always has snacks whenever she’s feeling peckish. Warren is in charge of cheering her up because, in addition to going sober, pregnancy comes with side effects such as nausea, heartburn, and fluctuating hormones. Eddie keeps handing her crocheted things from his grandmother with all the pride of a particularly murderous housecat. Billy has perfected his mother-hen routine. Karen, though, barely makes eye contact with her anymore. Daisy isn’t sure if she should address it or even how. She has a bad track record of messing up difficult conversations with friends.
“Do you ever write?” Daisy asks, because it’s easier than not saying anything at all. “I’ve never asked.”
Karen shrugs. “Sometimes, yeah, but it’s not the same sound. There was never any point in talking about it when Billy made it clear he was not interested in collaboration. Other than, you know,” she makes a vague gesture with her hand towards Daisy.
“But you want to.”
“Of course, I want to. I’m not going to be on the keys forever.” Karen tosses another fry into her mouth and sits back against the couch. “I’m meant for more.”
“I believe you,” Daisy says warmly. Karen is more ambitious than the guys realize. She’s observant and probably knows how to play the game better than any of them. Daisy thinks her loyalty to the Six has more to do with sentiment than her abilities. “What does Graham think?”
“Graham,” Karen exhales, her accent tilting through his name. “I don’t talk to him about the future. He’s already getting ideas. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Daisy stills. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He won’t stop talking about you and the baby and how you’re still here.” Karen shakes her head. “Apparently it didn’t occur to him until now that pregnant women can still follow their dreams. But now that it has…he keeps talking about it. Us having kids one day.”
“And you don’t want to.”
“No!” Karen exclaims. “There’s too much I want to do. I want to tour the world three times over, I want to play music and feel the pulse of it in my veins. I just…can’t think of ever wanting more than this.”
Daisy is not a wholly rational person. She’s sensitive and she takes every little comment way too personally. You’d think she’d develop a thicker skin because of her bitch mother but Daisy never learned how to stop poking at a wound. “Well, fuck, Karen it’s not like I don’t want those things too.”
Karen grimaces. “No, you don’t get it. I know you do. But it’s not all you want.”
“And what else do I want?”
“To belong.”
“You’ve never wanted to belong to somebody?”
“I belong to myself. Before I am ever anyone else’s. Even Graham.”
Daisy considers this. She agrees, on some level. She doesn’t like to be controlled or forced. In fact, the easiest way to get her to do something is to tell her she can’t. But there’s also a horrible restlessness that comes with being alone. A restlessness that only ceases when she is around certain people — Simone and Billy. The peace of being perfectly understood and accepted is the greatest high she’s ever known. She’ll chase that feeling to the ends of the earth. And since these people keep leaving her, Daisy’s just going to have to make one of her own. Daisy caresses her bump and pictures the walking extension of her heart.
Karen looks back at her, sad and defiant in equal measure. Daisy wonders why Karen never talks about her family. It’s probably none of her business.
“You’re right. I do want to belong. I think searching for that has dictated my entire life. Even this baby.” It doesn’t feel good to admit she has selfish reasons for wanting a baby. Daisy knows that not wanting to be alone is a horrible reason to want a child. But that was only the start of it. She thinks of the life she wanted — the music, the recognition, the respect. Daisy couldn’t think of anything better than achieving all that and leaving it to somebody else. Seeing what they could build. But her wanting those things doesn’t have anything to do with Karen or what’s best for her. She can respect that, even if she doesn’t understand it.
“I’m finally starting to think I’ll have a good life,” Daisy says simply. “And I think you will too.”
“Yeah,” Karen agrees with a smile. “Me too.”