Title: Almost Famous: The Plane

Rating: R [language, drinking]

Word Count: 2797

Characters: Pete, Cady, Audrey and Alec Townshend, John and Chris Entwistle, Roger Daltrey, Keith Moon, Bill Curbishley, Kit Lambert, Summer Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, and Cameron Crowe

Author's Note: This series is based on Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous. As the movie is autobiographical in nature, this series will gleam stories from the movies, based on real-life events and translate them into the world of DiF's epics. This one encapuslates Don't Look Away with a touch of Midnight Shift. Completely canon with the epic and WILL contain MAJOR spoilers.

Summary: Cameron is on tour with The Who and they hit a bit of turbulence...

Though he had not particularly wanted to leave California, Cameron forced himself onto a plane bound east. Assigned to cover The Who, one of his favorite bands, because they currently would not talk to any of the press, he grudgingly accepted the fact he was leaving his best friend behind. It was especially difficult as he believed she needed him more than Rolling Stone did. However, he climbed aboard the cross-country plane with her blessing and the feeling of her lips kissing his cheek firmly burned into his mind. He needed to focus on his job.

Once landing in Houston and swept away into the touring monster of the British band, Cameron pushed aside his worries about Summer. He attempted to locate members of the band, but instead ended up hanging out with some of the roadies. It was at least a start.

Collapsing in his room late at night, too tired to join the rambling party, Cameron sprawled across the hotel bed. He took a few deep breaths, recalled the explosive first concert of the American tour, and found his thoughts wrenched right back to California. Rolling over, he reached for the phone and mechanically dialed the first number to come to mind.

“Hello?” a smoky voice answered.

“Oh, hi, Joni. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he muttered, glancing at the clock.

“Not at all. Luckily I came in for a drink.”

“I see. Is Summer awake?”

“She is. Let me get her for you.”

“Thanks,” Cameron responded, before standing up and moving to find his notebook in his suitcase so he could jot down some notes from that night’s performance.

“Cameron?”

He smiled, sitting down with his notebook, “Hey, sweet girl.”

“Hi.”

His smiled disappeared and he set aside his notebook, sitting on the edge of the bed, “What’s wrong, Summer?”

“I just… I just…”

“What, sweetheart?”

“I miss you already. I…”

“Do you want to come with me? I’m sure the band wouldn’t mind if you joined.”

She paused so long he thought perhaps they lost the connection, “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready for the concert circuit again.”

“I understand,” he turned and stretched out on the bed, tucking his free arm under his head. “Well let me tell you what you’re missing so far…”

After checking on the three young children, even though they had their nanny watching over them, Cady stepped out into the hallway. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The children were always kept on a different floor than the band, per her instructions. Pete did not tour without her; she did not tour without her children. John’s three year old son had long been included in any conversation about her children, even if she did not bear him. Chris looked to Cady as his mother far more than Alison; neither Cady nor John ever thought to tell him otherwise.

Satisfied the children did not wake when she slipped out, Cady pushed away from the wall and headed down to the elevator. She knew her husband would be either drunk or passed out, which was one of the determining factors to keeping the children away. Depending on his location, she would either sleep alone or… she was not going to think about it until she managed to traverse the elevator without issue.

Heading down the hallway two floors below the one where the three children and nanny slept, Cady stepped around roadies and groupies alike. She wondered where Keith was, knowing trouble followed him closely. Passing by a room with a half-open door and the sounds of sex pouring out, she shook her head and pulled the door closed. The tour had begun.

Waking the following morning in John’s room, not her husband’s, Cady stretched and rolled out of the bed. She passed John as he exited the bathroom and she entered. He grumbled a ‘good morning’ and she thought she replied the same. When she stepped out a few minutes later, face freshly washed, John pressed a cup of coffee into her hands and kissed her temple. Needing no conversation, they prepared to head out for the day. Once leaving the hotel suite, John headed left to rouse Pete, knowing the guitarist would have quite the hangover. Cady headed right, returning to the elevator to breakfast with the children before shuttling them off to the airport with the nanny.

As the elevator doors opened, Keith burst out and ran down the hallway, completely naked. Paying only enough attention to evade him, Cady stepped into the lift and headed down to get the children up. They breakfasted together, Chris sitting in her lap and clinging to her much of the meal. As he refused to let go of her when they headed down to the cars, she made a split decision to fly with the children earlier in the day than with the band two hours later.

Finding Pete, Chris still firmly placed on her hip, sucking his thumb, Cady sighed upon noticing he was already drinking, “I’m going to fly to the next stop with the kids.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m going to fly with the kids instead of the band. I’ll meet you at the hotel later.”

“But… but…”

“He needs me more than you do,” she cuddled Chris. 

“But…”

“See you later,” she kissed him quickly. “And stay out of trouble, Pete.”

After a similar conversation with John, Cady headed out to the cars with the children. She happily chatted about nonsense with her daughter, smiling as the two young boys had their own conversation. However, Chris still refused to release her.

It was not until the plane was high in the sky that she understood. He kept muttering and hiding his face on her shoulder. When the plane hit a few moments of turbulence he began to cry. She spoke softly, assuring him that everything would be okay.

“Nuh uh,” he refuted. “I dreameded you and Daddy.”

“And what did you dream, monkey?”

“You and Daddy and Uncle Pete were in a plane crash and dieded,” he stated.

She hugged him tightly, “Daddy and Uncle Pete and I aren’t going to die in a plane crash, Chris. Everyone is going to be fine.”

“But… Mama…” big tears rolled down his cheeks. “It was scary.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she wiped his tears. “But it was a dream. I’m fine. Your daddy will be fine. It was just a nightmare.”

“I stay with you?”

“Of course, monkey. You can stay with me as long as you want.”

Folding his hands under his head, Cameron stretched out on his hotel bed. Even though the band still refused to do any interviews, which he suspected would take awhile to break through, he felt as if the three shows he had seen so far were fantastic. There was a fire in the band that he could not quite explain. Maybe whatever was behind Pete’s refusal to speak with the press had been poured back into the music. He was uncertain.

Turning on his side, he reached for the phone, not noticing the time. Without a second thought, he dialed Joni’s number, wanting to share his thoughts with anyone who would actually take him seriously. After a few long rings, a confused Joni answered the phone. Suddenly realizing the time, his eyes widened and he profusely apologized. The smoky folksinger merely chuckled and passed the phone along.

“Cameron?”

He smiled, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I wasn’t really asleep…”

His smile disappeared, hearing the unsaid emotion in her voice, “Summer, did you get out of bed today?”

She remained silent.

“Sweetheart, you need to get out of bed.”

“But it’s nighttime now.”

He sighed, “Okay. Try and get out of bed tomorrow for me?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too. You know, you can still join me, Summer.”

“…maybe I should.”

His heart skipped a beat, “I would love that. Let me check the band’s itinerary and we can figure out where it would be best to meet.”

“Are they nice?”

Rolling out of bed, Cameron clicked his bedside lamp on in order to find the schedule, “The Who? Yeah… they’re pretty nice. The drummer is crazy, but he’s mostly… harmless. The guitarist is usually really chatty, but he’s been really withdrawn lately. The bassist is… quiet like most bassists. And the singer… well, you’ll just have to see when you get here.”

“And everyone else?”

“They travel a bit differently than most of the bands, actually. There are roadies and groupies but… well, Pete’s wife and kids are on tour with them too,” he stated, pulling a slip of paper out of his luggage. “Hmmm. Our next stop is some place in Tennessee. Maybe it would be better to go for the one after that, so you don’t have to rush tomorrow?”

“Whatever you think is best, Cam.”

His dark eyes glanced over the paper, “I’ll try to get you a flight booked for Hampton, Virginia. That will give you two days to come and join me.”

“Okay.”

Setting down the paper, he focused his attention on her again, “Summer, sweetheart…”

“I… Cameron, I just feel so empty.”

He sighed, sitting back down on the bed, “It wasn’t your fault. It really wasn’t.”

“But…”

“It wasn’t, Summer. Bad things happen to good people,” Cameron claimed.

“I’m just…”

He could just barely make out her soft sob, “Just hold on a few more days. Go sit in the garden where we normally sit tomorrow when the sun is out and shining down.”

“Okay.”

“It will all be okay. I promise.”

“I trust you,” she paused. “Will you tell me a story to sleep to?”

“Absolutely. Once upon a time…”

Heading down the airport corridor with the band, Cameron realized something was not quite the same. As he followed them out onto the tarmac, he noticed the young children were absent as they boarded the small plane. Finding that odd as he often watched Pete’s wife interact with them, he worked his way to her in the small crowd. Her blue eyes turned to him at his shy greeting, a smile quickly gracing her face.

“Um… not that it’s any of my business, but… where are the kids?” he asked awkwardly.

“They flew out earlier today with the nanny, heading to NYC instead of the next tour stop,” she answered. “We could use a little break and I didn’t think this small town stops would interest them much. So I’ll go and get them before we head to Chicago.”

“Oh okay. I was just… wondering…”

Cady smiled again, “That’s what makes you a good reporter.”

He flushed slightly, “Thanks.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see if I can get Pete to talk to you — on the record.”

“I… thank you,” he smirked.

As the band got settled in the small plane, Cameron silently observed them all. Pete clearly drank a few drinks before boarding, as had Keith. Neither John nor Roger seemed particularly intoxicated, but Cameron had never really seen either of them drunk. He knew the singer rarely drank and the bassist had the reputation of being able to outdrink an ox. Maybe both were under some influence he did not know. It would not be unheard of, as most rockers drank and drugged.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he watched as Cady sat next to Pete, kissed his cheek, and took her seat. Her husband barely acknowledged her presence. She frowned slightly before turning to admonish Keith for his childish behavior, telling him to sit down so the plane could take off.

Once the plane eased into the air, the flight attendant served everyone drinks and Cameron pulled out his tape recorder. Cady had already convinced Pete to talk to him, explaining how the young journalist sat across from the broody guitarist. Ignoring the young man for a minute, Pete finished his first drink, muttered something to his wife for the first time, and requested a second drink.

Only then did he address Cameron, “Hey, why didn’t you come back to the party last night? Bob Dylan showed up. He was sitting at our table for what had to have been an hour, right, John?”

“Yeah,” the bassist muttered, sipping his drink. 

“Just rapping, with Bob Dylan, at our fucking table. I was looking for you. I was going to introduce you.”

Cameron smirked at the thought, not about to tell Pete he already knew Bob.

“What happened to you last night?” John asked.

“It’s a long story,” Cameron responded.

Before anyone pressed to hear more of his story, the plane hit a bump, spilling everyone’s drinks. Pete laughed and began to sing “Peggy Sue.” The turbulence continued and the pilot’s voice cut through Pete’s drunken singing, declaring they hit the edge of an electrical storm. As nerves began to increase, Cameron tucked away his recorder, glancing up as the assistant pilot stepped out, hanging onto the door for support, claiming they were going to set down in a field.

“Oh my god,” Cady muttered as her wine spilled.

Keith’s hands closed over a cross he snapped from Roger’s neck. His lips moved in silent prayer, not that most anyone noticed.

“We shouldn’t be here,” John mumbled.

Cady held onto her wine glass as Pete reached across the aisle for her hand, “If something should happen… maybe I never said this enough… I love all of you.”

The plane violently shook Pete towards his wife, his hand bracing against her seat to keep him from slamming into her.

“I once hit a man in Dearborn, Michigan. A hit and run. I hit him and I just kept on going. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. Not a day goes by I don’t think about him,” Bill Curbishley, their new manager sighed.

“Oh my god!” Cady muttered again.

Kit, the newly replaced manager who was only with the band until they reached a major city so he could return to England, “I love you all too. You’re like family to me. I just want you to know that if I took an extra dollar or two here or there, it’s because I knew I earned it.”

“Yeah,” Pete responded distractedly.

“I slept with Karen,” John confessed, glancing at Pete.

“So did I,” Roger spoke up, “but I waited until you broke up with her.”

“I also slept with Cady,” he glanced at his best friend, “when you were fighting.”

Cameron watched all the color drain from Cady’s face.

“You slept with John!?”

Her blue eyes flicked from John to Pete and back again, unable to say anything.

“And you say you love me?” Pete stared at his best mate.

“I don’t love you, mate. I never did. None of us love you. You act above us. You always have. Finally, the truth. You just held it over us, like you might leave. Like we’re lucky to be with you. And we had to live with it, mate. I had to live with you. And now I might die with you, and it’s not fucking fair,” John seethed.

“Please, enough!” Bill cut in.

“And I’m still in love with you, Cady.”

“I don’t want to hear any more!” she cried, covering her face.

“It’s all happening,” Roger muttered.

“What the fuck!?” Keith shouted.

“Whatever happens, John, you’re dead,” Pete pointed at the bassist.

“Don’t be self-righteous, Pete. Not now, man. You were sleeping with Gayle, that fucking groupie… last summer up until yesterday. Why don’t you tell Cady that?”

“Shut up!” the guitarist shouted.

“I QUIT!” Bill shouted.

“I’m going to kill you!” Pete lunged towards John.

“I QUIT!” Bill screamed again.

As Cameron was about to protest the declaration of Gayle as a groupie, more because Summer conditioned him to not think of the girls like that when the plane suddenly seemed to calm down. Thinking it was just a brief moment of calm, or perhaps not realizing it, Keith began to stutter.

“Fuck it,” he muttered before finding his courage. “I’m… I’m gay!”

Everyone turned and looked at him as the co-pilot burst out, “Thank God, we’re alive! We’re alive! We’re gonna make it! We’re out of the clear now.”

“Sweet relief,” Cady muttered, her eyes still covered

“Sweet life! Hallelujah, dear God!” someone shouted.

“We made it. We’re alive…” John muttered, reaching across for Cady.

Pete sighed and downed another drink while looking at Cameron, “Write what you want.”

He knew he could never share what happened on that flight. Not with the world, in a Rolling Stone article. But he could not wait to get Summer on the phone and confess himself…