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There are times when the telephone's ring is a harbinger of sorrow.Freddie can never put his finger on how, but he can usually tell the difference when someone's ringing just to say hello as opposed to when something horrible has just happened. This ring is definitely on the disaster side, he thinks as he snuggles deeper into the sofa cushions. Delilah is hogging the blanket, as usual, and as usual Freddie indulges her. The early spring sunshine is warm enough for him.He can hear Phoebe on the phone, speaking quietly and letting out little sighs now and again. It's a strain to hear him over Delilah's contented purring, but he can make out a few words here and there:"...to be expected..."
"...is he with..."
"...send our love..."
"...maybe a bit later, we'll see how he's feeling..."Well, this has to be godawful.Freddie pets Delilah's silky fur and croons softly to her until Phoebe finally turns up, a cup of tea in one hand and the dreaded pills in the other. He doesn't quite meet Freddie's eyes as he watches him swallow the medications dry, and he is definitely holding some information back."What was the call about?" Freddie asks, blowing on his tea to cool it."Oh, just Miami checking in," Phoebe says too glibly, and Freddie rolls his eyes."Checking in so we'd 'send our love' and you'll 'see how I'm feeling?' Please, darling, you are dreadful at subterfuge, so out with it."Phoebe sighs again. He does that a lot these days. "It's bad news, I'm afraid." He leans over Freddie and gently pats his shoulder. "Harold May passed away late last night."
Freddie has a catch in his voice when he asks, "Was Brian with him?""Yes, he and his mother both. I thought we might send flowers to her house, if you agree.""Of course, of course!" This time it's Freddie who sighs as he thinks about the loving yet strained relationship between father and son. God knows he understands that feeling all too well. "Is he staying at hers?""Oddly, no. Miami says that Ruth wants 'some time alone to process' so Brian's at his flat."There's a fog in Freddie's brain these days, so it takes him a few seconds to remember that Anita's out on tour. "Shit, he's there all by himself. That won't do—get me the phone, please.""Don't you think you ought to rest, because the doctor—""Really, darling, fuck the doctor and get me the phone." He taps impatiently on Delilah's head, to which she protests with an offended meow as she jumps off of his lap. Freddie takes the telephone from Phoebe and waves him off before dialing Brian's number.The voice on the other end is heartbreakingly weary. "Yes, hello?""It's Freddie. My poor darling Brian, I've just heard about your father; I'm so terribly sorry! Are you really all by yourself?""Not exactly." There's a shuffle and the sound of a door opening and closing. "This is my week with the kids, so they're here. I need to call Chrissie and let her know what's happened, see if we can reschedule. I'm not in any kind of state—"Freddie knows all too well what kind of state Brian is in. He can almost see him tugging at his hair as he wanders through the flat, a faraway, lost look in his eyes. "Of course you're not. Come here, bring the kids. I'll have Phoebe get in touch with Chrissie and let her know you're all with me.""Fred, you need to take it easy. I'm okay, really, you don't have to—""Just TRY and stop me, darling!" Freddie cries indignantly, then for good measure he adds, "I'll come over there and take care of you myself if you don't.""No!" Brian protests. He surely knows what Jim and Phoebe would do to him if he allowed that to happen. "No, you aren't going anywhere. Let me get their things together first, then we'll come by."Freddie is about to tell Brian to bring his own things and stay for a few days, but he knows Brian will balk. "We'll have tea ready when you get here. Drive carefully, darling, and I'll see you soon.""Thanks, Freddie," Brian says slowly, meaningfully. Freddie hears all the pain in his voice and it makes him shiver despite the Delilah-warmed blankets at his feet.There's probably an hour, maybe a bit less, before Brian and his children are at the door, so Freddie calls for Jim. Just the sight of Jim's sweet face calms Freddie's restless anxiety. "Has Phoebe told you about Brian's dad?""Yes, just now, I'm so sorry to hear it," Jim says warmly, smoothing Freddie's shirtfront. "He said you're having Brian over—what can I do to help?"Naturally, Jim wants to be helpful. It's in his nature, God bless him, and Freddie loves him so much for it. "He's got the children, so someone needs to let Chrissie know to come pick them up over here. Miami will have her number. Anita's on the road so I'm going to absolutely MAKE Brian stay at least one night - although he doesn't know it yet - which means we need a guest room made up with toiletries and something for him to sleep in. And of course, tea and sweeties for the little Maylings.""I'll let Joe and Phoebe know, love." Jim gives him a warm kiss. "In the meantime, you should have a little rest so you'll be fresh when they arrive."Freddie is obedient when Jim helps him lie down and covers him up from toe to chin. "You're so good to me," he murmurs as he puckers his lips up for another kiss, and another after that.Jim smiles at him. "And don't you forget it. I'll wake you when I hear the car come up."Closing his eyes, Freddie tries to relax. It's so difficult, not just because of the aches in his body but also because he can't bear to know that Brian is suffering. For all their fights in the studio, for all the bickering and carrying on over every little detail, Freddie meant every single word of "Soul Brother" and he loves Brian as much as he's ever loved anyone.At some point he drops off into a quiet doze, because the next thing he knows is that Jim is lightly nudging his arm. "I think that's them. Let's get you up and tidy your hair a bit." Jim produces a comb from one of his capacious pockets and goes over Freddie's short hair, smoothing down a few rebellious locks that want to curl."Am I presentable?" Freddie asks. He doesn't care to observe himself in mirrors anymore, so he relies on Jim's loving eyes as his guide."Gorgeous," Jim replies with a kiss on Freddie's cheek. He helps Freddie stand up just in time for Phoebe to open the door.It's all Freddie can do to restrain himself from crying out in alarm.Brian looks like hammered hell. His eyes are puffy and he's unshaven, his hair hanging in uncontrollable spirals down to his collarbones. His girls are on either side of him and Jimmy is in front, already so tall, with his father's serious eyes. Louisa bounds up to Freddie with her arms outstretched. "Hello, my pet!" Freddie greets her as they embrace. She's been crying over her grandfather but she still smiles up at Freddie, apple-cheeked like Chrissie. Freddie opens his arms wider to include Jimmy and drops a kiss on his temple. "You've grown so much since I saw you last!""Mum says I'm as much of a beanpole as Dad," Jimmy replies, grinning. His voice is in that dangerously creaky place between soprano and tenor that Freddie remembers with no fondness whatsoever. "Are you feeling any better, Uncle Freddie?"Freddie glances past him to Brian, who shakes his head. Everyone in the band had agreed not to tell the children anything specific, but the older ones like Jimmy, Robert, and Michael are probably starting to guess. Freddie gives Jimmy his broadest smile. "I'm already better, seeing you, darling!" He lets go of the two children and carefully walks over to Brian. It is an effort to crouch down in front of little Emily but he manages by putting his hands on her shoulders for balance. She is the one who most resembles Brian, with dark, curly hair down to her waist. Freddie is delighted when she kisses him on the cheek before shyly turning and hiding her face against her father's jacket.Brian extends a hand to help Freddie back onto his feet. It's hard to tell who is shaking more, but Freddie is pretty certain it's Brian. Once he's steady, he wraps his arms around Brian's waist and holds on to him. "I'm so, so sorry about your dad," he whispers, and Brian clutches him closer at the words."Thank you for having us over - things are a bit at sixes and sevens at mine," Brian says in a forlorn, dark voice. He appears so exhausted that Freddie immediately waves him toward the sitting room where Jim is laying out tea and cookies. The children's eyes go large at the sight of so many treats and Brian groans, "You didn't need to go to this much bother, guys."Jim immediately steps forward and sweeps Brian into a hug. "It's just a trifle. I know there's nothing we can do or say to make this hurt less, but please let us try."Biting his lip, Brian nods. He raises one finger to Louisa, indicating that she should take just a single cookie, but Freddie cheerfully intervenes."Oh, do let her have whatever she likes. See, darlings? These are ALL for the three of you - not even one for your Dad or me!" He shoos them toward the table and nods enthusiastically as Louisa and Jimmy fill up their plates. Emily examines the mountain of delicacies and selects one. She toddles to Freddie, tugs on his shirt cuff, and offers the treat to him.Charmed, Freddie puts one hand over his heart. "Emily, dearest, that's the kindest thing! But don't you want it for yourself?"Brian smiles fondly at his younger daughter's generosity, some of the mournfulness in his eyes lifting. "Go on, take it, Freddie. You should eat a calorie here and there.""I believe I shall." Freddie bows to Emily and she giggles at him. "Thank you, Your Highness."Louisa and Jimmy look down at their heaping plates. Jimmy nudges his sister, who takes a cookie from his plate and places it in her father's hand. "Here, daddy. I'm sorry.""No need, angel," Brian says as he reaches out to smooth her hair. "I want you all to have a lovely time this afternoon with Uncle Freddie and Uncle Jim." His voice is so strained that Freddie's heart lurches at the sound. He raises an eyebrow at Jim, who is quick to scoop up the plateful of goodies."It's so nice and warm out. If you children would like to have your tea there and see the garden, I'll take you. That way your Dad and Uncle Freddie can have some time to chat." He smiles at them, showing his dimples, and his enthusiasm is infectious. "It's time to feed the koi—they'll come up and nibble your fingers!""Do they BITE?" Louisa asks, looking askance at her father."They have their teeth way back in their throats rather than at the front of their mouths the way we do," Jimmy puts in, sounding so much like Brian in his most scholarly mode that the adults have to stifle a laugh. "They might GUM you, but it kinda tickles." He looks to Brian for permission. "Is it okay, Dad?""Absolutely." Brian watches as Emily curls up in the corner of the sofa where Freddie had been napping. "Don't you want to go and feed the pretty fish?" She shakes her head, not bothering to fight a yawn. "I don't think she got a lot of sleep last night," Brian says sadly. "I got home late, and the nanny said the kids kept popping out of bed to ask what was going on.""That's fine, let her rest." Freddie grins at Jim and the other two children. "I'm putting you in charge of koi care, then I'm sure the cats would love a visit. Go have fun, darlings!""Thank you, Uncle Freddie," chime Jimmy and Louisa as they excitedly follow Jim, peppering him with questions about the cats and the fish."Jim's just lovely with kids, isn't he?" Freddie asks proudly as he takes a seat next to Emily. "That's right, dear, just snuggle up to me and have a little lie-down." He settles Emily's head on a silk cushion next to his hip and tugs the blanket over her legs.Brian watches, his brow furrowed. "I can take her if she's bumping into you," he begins, but Freddie rolls his eyes at him."I'm not that fragile. Besides," he adds, lifting his head regally, "affection is a pressure I can bear.""Fred, are you feeling—""I stole that, silly. It's from 'The Lion in Winter.' But it's true." He strokes Emily's hair. "I think I value affection even more nowadays. Please sit down before you fall down, Brian, you're making me nervous. Have you slept at all in the last two days?" Given how wan and drained Brian looks, it's a rhetorical question. "Have you eaten?""No. And no to the first thing, too." He seems more likely to collapse than sit as he perches on the chair opposite Freddie. "I need to call Chrissie so she'll pick up the kids.""It's done," Freddie tells him with a wave. "Phoebe took care of that, so you don't have to explain anything to her. You won't even have to see her if you're not up to it."It doesn't seem possible, but Brian's woeful face falls even further. "God, I'm such a coward. I should've told her right away. She shouldn't have heard it from someone she barely knows; that should've been my job." He leans forward and covers his eyes with his hands. "I haven't even told Anita yet, not when she's got a show to do tonight. Oh, and I was supposed to go to the studio tomorrow so I need to check in with them, and...and some other things, but I can't remember them right now.""Please let Jim and me take care of making phone calls. You don't look as if you've got the strength for it."Brian fixes him with a disbelieving stare before dropping his gaze to the floor. "I can't let you do that. It's bad enough that Jim's having to take care of the kids because I'm not...capable."This is going terribly wrong, and Freddie isn't sure how to fix it. He buys himself a few moments by caressing Emily's hair as she sleeps soundly at his side, and an idea floats into his head. "I used to do this with you, ages ago, when you were tired or sad, remember? You'd just flop down and I'd play with your hair while you told me all your troubles." He peers up from Emily to her father, searching for something of twentysomething Brian in the careworn face of his grieving friend. "I loved doing that. I miss it," Freddie says earnestly. If he makes it sound like a favour, then perhaps Brian will allow him to help.There's no response at first. Brian sets his lips together firmly but the distress in his eyes can't be hidden. His expressions have been an open book to Freddie since the day they met, and in them Freddie can read all the remorse and despair in Brian's tormented heart.With the impeccable timing that makes him the world's greatest frontman, Freddie lets three beats go by before holding out a hand and murmuring, "Let me do this for you, Brimi darling."At the sound of his nickname, Brian lets out the barest hint of a sob. He stumbles out of his chair and drops to the floor at Freddie's feet, looking up at him through eyelashes shimmering with teardrops. When Freddie guides Brian's head down to his knee and combs his hand through the tight curls at his scalp, Brian struggles to control himself, his hands balled into fists and his breath coming in ragged little gasps. "God, Freddie, I can't...""Ssh, love, of course you can." He puts a finger under Brian's chin, guides his head upward, and smiles tenderly at him. "Tell your Freddie everything."Brian's lips are parted and his face is ghostly pale underneath the scruff of beard. There are no tears yet, but there will be once the dam breaks. Freddie steels himself because he hates to see Brian weep. With an exhausted sigh, Brian rests his head on Freddie's lap and begins to speak."I disappointed him."Freddie takes in a sharp breath."He died disappointed in me," continues Brian. "I've been an embarrassment, a thorn in his side, ever since I left school to be in the band full-time. The one thing he wanted for me was an education, and as far as he was concerned I threw it away with both hands. When he and I weren't speaking, it gave my mum a nervous breakdown so he never forgave me for that, either. He hated that I was 'living in sin' before we married, and hated even more that we got divorced. I paid off the mortgage on their house and he resented that I had enough money to do it. It never mattered how big Queen got, how famous I was, how fucking hard I worked to earn his approval. It never mattered. I was only ever a failure in his eyes."That's not entirely true and Freddie knows it. Harold had kept press clippings about the band, had tracked their chart positions and worried that their management was not taking good care of them. But Freddie knows that Brian needs to get his feelings off his chest, so he settles for saying, "He loved you very much. That never changed, no matter your career path.""I'm his only son, so what choice did he have?"With a pang, Freddie thinks of his own father's very real disapproval. It's something he and Brian have in common. Trying to play "my father has a bigger stick up his arse than your father" isn't the way to go, so Freddie redirects the conversation. "Do you need to talk about last night, love?"Brian considers for a few seconds, then demurs. When he speaks, the warmth of his breath comes in little puffs against Freddie's thigh. "I'm not really ready for details. It was peaceful, for which my mother says I'm meant to 'give thanks,' whatever that means."That's another topic Freddie would like very much to avoid. He takes one long curl and wraps it around his finger, tugging slightly. "What else is bothering you, darling?"Folding his arms over Freddie's knee, Brian sits up a little and rests his cheek there. "I feel terrible dumping all of this on you." His fingers pat out a nervous little rhythm on Freddie's legs. "I'm sorry. You don't need my problems. As soon as Chrissie gets the kids, I'll go, okay?""No," Freddie groans. "It's far from okay. I asked you here. I want to be the person you come to when your life feels like it's going tits-up. How many more times do I have to tell you?" He presses a finger to Brian's forehead. "Get it in your adorable, thick head - you are my friend and my guest, and I want nothing more than to help you. Understood? Now, do tell me what else is troubling you."Brian goes off on a tangent, deflecting as he often does when he's cornered, but there's gratitude shining in his eyes. "I do appreciate it, Fred. It wouldn't be fair for me to put this on the other guys. I mean, it'd be cruel to moan about losing my father at forty-three when John was just a little boy when his dad died, and as for Roger's father, well—""The less said about him, the better," agrees Freddie. He's never laid eyes on Michael Taylor and he's completely at peace with that because it's spared him the inconvenience of breaking a vase over the man's head. "Anyone who could hurt his wife and children isn't worth being regarded as human."Brian pales. "I hurt Chrissie and our kids," he says in a voice so full of revulsion that Freddie wishes he could rewind the last thirty seconds of conversation as if it were a tape in the recording studio."Darling, no, that's not what I meant." He puts his hands on Brian's face and stares straight into his eyes. "Honestly, trying to navigate around your self-esteem issues is like tap dancing through a field of land mines, whilst Roger gives directions without his glasses on."Brian snickers at that, which lightens the mood enough for them both to relax. "I know, I'm sorry."Freddie growls at him through a grin. "Brian, I swear to fucking—""I just..." Brian reaches over Freddie's lap and touches Emily's rosy cheek. "I just wish I'd done better. Sometimes I wonder if she really understands that I'm her father."The loud peal of the doorbell startles Freddie and wakes Emily. She blinks at him, confused, then notices Brian and she reaches out her plump little arms to him. "I think she knows exactly who you are, dear," Freddie says fondly.Phoebe rushes to answer the door, but Freddie stops him. "Get the children and Jim - I'll greet her."As Brian begins to scoop Emily up in his arms, Freddie goes to the vestibule and opens the door. Chrissie is standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking anxiously back at the paparazzi as the gates slam shut, cutting them off. She's always had a natural style and today is no exception; her hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail and she's wearing jeans and an ivory jumper. Chrissie is lovely and sweet, but she's a turtledove and somehow Brian had lost the ability to see her next to Anita's vibrant plumage."Hello, darling! It's wonderful to have you here!" Whatever pleasant greeting he expects when Chrissie turns toward him doesn't materialise. They haven't seen one another for over two years, after all, and he's not the man she remembers.Chrissie's eyes fly open in dismay. "Oh...Freddie..." She tries to cover up for her shocked expression by putting one hand over her mouth, but the tremor in her fingers betrays her and her eyes are full of tears. Hoping to dispel the misery in the atmosphere and give Chrissie time to recover, Freddie opens his arms to hug her but she just stands there, wide-eyed and teary.Stung, Freddie backs away, dropping his arms back to his sides again. He sees himself through her eyes: frail, pallid, his skin beginning to blossom with purple lesions. "It's all right, dear. I understand why people don't want to touch me, these days.""Oh...oh, no." Chrissie rushes forward and gently wraps Freddie in a hug, stroking the hair at his nape. "It's just been so long."She's as bad a liar as her ex-husband, Freddie thinks as he rests his cheek against hers for a few seconds. He pulls away and places his hands softly on her shoulders, gazing into her eyes and ignoring the embarrassed flush of her cheeks. "You're always welcome here. Always."Chrissie's smile is more genuine, but still sad. "That's very kind of you, Freddie."Freddie desperately wants her to know that he means it, that he would really love to be around such a strong, kind person, but the entrance of Jim and the two older children interrupts him. They clatter noisily on the marble floor, picking up their bags and chattering to their mother about the fish and the cats, talking over one another in their excitement.As Chrissie listens to the stereophonic babble, Brian enters with Emily on his hip. Jimmy steps up to his father and proudly announces, "I can carry her. I do it a lot.""I know you can, Jimmy," Brian tells him in a voice full of pride tinged with regret. "She might rather walk, though, isn't that right?"Emily nods, and Brian gently sets her down. Immediately she reaches for her mother and holds tightly to her leg.Chrissie puts her hand on Brian's arm as she looks into his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Brian. He was a very special man." Brian covers her hand with his and squeezes. It's the first interaction they've had in years that doesn't seem like a poorly negotiated peace conference.Freddie tears his eyes away from the touching scene and smiles at the children. "Did you have a good time with Jim, darlings?""Yes, thank you SO much," Louisa says enthusiastically. "The fish are really cool but the cats are..." She beams at him. "The cats are just the BEST!""Oscar took a particular shine to her," Jim says as he directs Freddie to sit on the little bench near the door. "She's very gentle with them. And Jimmy knows so many of the Latin names for plants - I think he knows more about what's in our garden than we do."Jimmy beams at the praise, his face turning pink the way Brian's does when he's complimented. The similarity between father and son isn't very strong physically, but there's something about Jimmy's demeanour that reminds Freddie of when he and Brian first met.The little family, fractured though it may be, warms Freddie's heart. The children are beautiful and well-loved, three unique individuals who are part of the man who's been so dear to him for so long. "You'll come see me again soon, won't you, my loves?""Of course, as soon as school lets out," Chrissie says, but it sounds perfunctory and the sad look she exchanges with Brian tells a different story."When you can, then." Freddie watches as Chrissie shepherds her brood outside to the waiting car. Jim helps him to his feet so he can wave goodbye from the door. Brian helps buckle Emily into her car seat and kisses each of his children on the forehead. He says something to Chrissie that makes her bite her lip and nod sorrowfully. Just as Brian closes the driver's side door, the passenger door opens and Jimmy flies back up the stairs and throws his arms around Freddie.Pleased and touched, Freddie pats him on the back and is surprised that Jimmy's shoulders are shaking. He lifts a tear-streaked face and whispers, "I love you, Uncle Freddie" before rushing back to the car and flinging himself back into his seat.When the car drives away into the sunset, Freddie understands that he's said goodbye to the children for the last time.He can feel the blood draining from his face. Weak and dizzy, he puts his hand over his heart. Brian and Jim both rush over and guide him back to the sofa. As Jim fusses over blankets and pillows, Freddie asks, "Does he know?""I didn't tell anyone—not Chrissie, and certainly not Jimmy. He's just..." Brian taps his lips with his index finger as he searches for just the right word. "He's very perceptive for his age.""For any age," Jim affirms. "He's bright as a penny, and he's got a good eye. And he knows how to keep a secret, I'll wager." He leans over and gives Freddie a kiss on the bridge of his nose, then smiles encouragingly at Brian. "Joe's outdoing himself with a gorgeous vegetarian lasagna. You'll stay for dinner, won't you?""Yes!" Freddie chimes in with enthusiasm, glad to have something to take his mind off of his sadness. "Since Joe's gone to so much BOTHER," he continues, raising an eyebrow at Brian, who throws his hands in the air, defeated."Okay, I can see that there's no point arguing," he responds with a touch of amusement in his voice. He and Jim share a brief eye roll as Jim heads back to the kitchen."Good. You can freshen up a bit beforehand. Phoebe has your room all ready for you, darling.""My...""You're staying over, of course." Even though it's a command, Freddie can hear a touch of hesitancy. Perhaps he's more tired than he'd first thought, or perhaps he is more worried about Brian than he'd realised. He won't tell him that, of course, he'll phrase it another way altogether. One that Brian simply cannot refuse.Freddie widens his eyes and sinks back into the cushions of the sofa, raising a languid hand. "It'd be so good to have you here, darling. I get a little maudlin around this time of day. When Jim's puttering around in the house and Joe and Phoebe are busy with dinner and I'm all alone, I think too much about the sun setting." Brian ducks his head quickly, shadowing himself behind his hair, but not before Freddie sees how pale he becomes. A wave of guilt courses through him—he had asked Brian here to console him, not make him feel worse—and he changes his tone at once. "I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't mean to get all melodramatic on you." He peeks upward and meets Brian's eyes. "Forgive me?"There are people all over the world who would pay a fortune to see Brian May struck dumb, but only Freddie gets to see him stand with his mouth working but no sounds coming out. His smile is self-deprecating as he nods and goes over to the sofa for a hug. Freddie rubs a gentle circle on Brian's back, fretting a little over the sharp edge of his shoulder blade, and says, "You're in Lily's room upstairs, third door to the left. She's a good cuddler and she won't mind sharing the bed."If Brian is amused by the thought of sharing a room with a spoiled cat, he doesn't show it. He just presses a quick kiss to Freddie's temple before turning away, bounding upstairs as fast as his long legs can take him.Freddie turns toward the window and lets the afternoon sunlight bathe his face. The inviting pinkish-mauve glow makes him sleepy. Before he drifts off, he plants a fond memory like a seed and hopes it will flower into a sweet dream.
He's at uni, and Tim has pestered him into going to a Smile concert at a cheap student pub. Tim's a good enough musician but a bit pedestrian, so Freddie isn't holding out a lot of hope that the rest of the band is much better. He's pleasantly surprised that the drummer is truly original as well as possessed of a strong voice, but the guitarist utterly thrills him. He's never heard so many different sounds coming from the instrument, never seen anyone play with such intense, loving concentration. As he watches the man's long fingers spin beauty out of thin air, Freddie knows he's found his musical soulmate.
It's dark outside when Freddie opens his eyes again. Jim is sitting next to him with a glass of water and yet another handful of pills. "Hello, sweetheart. Take these and then it'll be time for dinner." As Freddie complies, wincing at the bump of pills against his throat, Jim lets him know the plans for the evening. "I've put Brian's clothes in the wash and he's got on one of your kimonos for right now, so perhaps you should just eat in here. Is that okay?"Given how absolutely exhausted Freddie feels, it's more than okay. "That's brilliant." The water makes him feel a little better and he sits up fully so he can pull Jim close for a kiss or two. "You've been such a help today, my love. I appreciate it more than I can tell you.""You're welcome, and he's thanked me a dozen times already so he's welcome, too." Jim rises and stretches. "We'll start bringing things in here," he says, leaning over and fixing Freddie with a no-nonsense stare, "and you WILL eat, not just shove lasagna clockwise and hope no one notices."Freddie rolls his eyes dramatically just as Brian makes his entrance. "Oh, thank heavens—Jim's bullying me again!"Brian gives him a skeptical glare. "It's more likely to be the other way around, Fred."Laughing, Jim turns on a pair of table lamps that give the room a cozy, warm glow. "Dinner's in here, Brian, nothing formal. Ten minutes or so?""That's wonderful. Thank you for - well, for everything. I feel almost human again."Freddie pats the place beside him on the sofa and Brian sits down, settling the navy blue silk of the kimono around himself. His hair is still damp at the ends and there are a couple of places on his face where he's nicked himself shaving. "You're so pale, darling," Freddie says as he runs a finger along the distinct lines of Brian's jaw. "We'll get some food in you and then you can trot off to bed.""That wouldn't be a bad idea for either of us." Brian's keen gaze rests on Freddie and there's a concerned furrow between his eyes. "I've tired you out, I'm afraid.""Not the first time, dear, and definitely not the last." Freddie leans his head on Brian's shoulder. "But I just couldn't stand the thought of you racketing around in your flat all alone at a time like this."
Jim brings in two plates heaped with lasagna, Phoebe following behind with wine and two glasses. Brian sits up and watches, confused. "Aren't you eating with us?" he asks."Some other time, Brian," Phoebe says kindly. "Just give us a shout if you need anything. Oh, and your things are nearly dry so I'll hang them in the closet when they're done.""You really didn't need—""Please don't thank us again," Phoebe interrupts, laughing, but his eyes are compassionate. "I just wish you'd let us do more."
Freddie gives Brian a look that clearly says See, I told you! Brian's smile is full of affection and gratitude. "I'll save the next 'thank you' for tomorrow, then," he declares. He reaches for the wine and pours glasses for himself and Freddie as Phoebe and Jim withdraw to another part of the house. "Here you go."Freddie lifts his glass and clinks it against Brian's. "To Harold May: God rest his soul.""To Dad," answers Brian. They take a drink, silently, then set the glasses aside. "Joe will wring our necks if we don't eat this, so we'd best get started."The food does smell delicious, so Freddie takes a forkful of lasagna and savours the texture. He doesn't really want to eat—he was never a fan of large meals to begin with, and now all the medications have done strange things to his sense of taste—but he owes it to Joe to do what he can.Brian is also trying his best, working his way methodically through his portion. After a few minutes he sets the plate on the table and picks up his wine glass again. "I give up," he groans. "I haven't eaten this much at one sitting in, well, forever." "I'm just glad you're eating at ALL. I know what you're like when you're brooding, you know, and it scares the shit out of me." He takes one last bite, more out of duty than pleasure, then puts his plate down beside Brian's. "You're probably knackered, darling - do you want to call it a night?""Would you mind? I'm not much company, I'm afraid.""For the nine millionth time, Brian, I didn't ask you here to keep me company!" Freddie punctuates his declaration with a tap at the end of Brian's nose. He pulls off the blanket and spends a moment collecting his sense of balance before slowly standing up. He doesn't want to have to rely on Brian, doesn't want to add even the smallest worry to his emotional load. Luckily, Brian is too busy keeping the kimono fastened at his narrow waist to notice.They climb the stairs side by side and Freddie's heart warms to see Jim putting extra touches in the guest room. He has set a glass of water on the nightstand next to a pad and pencil, and he's arranging a little bouquet of flowers there as well. "Louisa picked these and asked me to give them to you later," he tells Brian. "She thought they might cheer you up."Brian fingers the petals of a velvety red rose. "These were Dad's favourites because they have long, straight stems and they smell so good."Freddie wraps his arm around Jim's waist and kisses him on the cheek. "You're an angel," he murmurs."So I've heard." Jim turns his attention to Brian. "Phoebe contacted the studio and postponed until you're ready to go in. Miami's going to wait until after the show tonight to call Anita and let her know you're safe with us. Roger phoned about an hour ago because he couldn't reach you at the flat. He said he'll come by tomorrow, and that he'd like to know when and where the services are being held. So if you write that down I'll relay the information. Or if you think of anything else, anything at all, just ask.""He won't," Freddie says, in mock annoyance, "but if I can figure out what he needs then I'll let you know."Standing next to the nightstand, one hand still touching the flowers there, Brian regards the two of them with astonishment. He's always surprised when people are kind to him, as if he doesn't believe he deserves their consideration. It's another of the many traits he shares with Freddie."Let's put you to bed," Freddie says as he turns back the covers and motions for Brian to climb in. When he does, a fond, amused smile on his lips, Freddie tucks him in carefully and sweeps a hand through the curly hair. "I'm two doors down if you need me," he murmurs into Brian's ear. "Good night, darling.""Good night, Freddie. Jim." Brian pulls the covers up to his chin and turns over on his side, curling up into a surprisingly compact ball of arms and legs.Freddie watches him for a while, listening to the slow, even breaths, then he tugs on Jim's forearm and leads him to the bedroom. Jim doesn't always sleep here, especially if he thinks he may snore and keep Freddie awake, but tonight Freddie clings to him. "Stay with me, love," he pleads."You don't need to ask." Jim's reply is immediate, followed by kisses and caresses. His hands are gentle on Freddie's thin body as he helps him undress and get into warm pyjamas, with soft socks to cover his over-sensitive feet. Relieved, the panic in his chest subsiding, Freddie watches through heavy eyes as Jim gets ready for bed and joins him under the duvet. "It's been a long day, Freddie, so relax and get some sleep. I'll check on Brian in a few hours.""Mmm." He's more tired than he had imagined, and he scarcely has time to say "I love you" before sleep claims him.He dreams of early days, of firsts, of falling in love with Deacy's playing at the first audition, of going to Japan for the first time, of getting their first number one hit and jumping up and down in an elevator until it stalled with them inside. They're happy dreams, gentle ones, and it takes quite a while to awaken when Jim softly calls his name."Freddie. Freddie, love, you need to get up."Freddie opens his eyes and finds Jim crouching next to the bed. It's dark except for the little lamp on the nightstand. "What happened?" he manages to croak. He struggles to get the sleepy cobwebs out of his mind, then the memory of yesterday comes back in a flash of light. "Oh, God, Brian..."He doesn't need Jim's help to get out of bed. Adrenaline is coursing through his body. Brian needs him, so of course he's going to fly to his side.Even though the guest room door is closed, Freddie can clearly hear Brian's anguished sobs. He raises a hand to knock, but Jim shakes his head. "Just go in. Call if you need me."Freddie opens the door carefully, mindful not to step on Lily as she paces around the room. Brian is sitting on the bed with a handful of red roses cupped in his palms, tears falling on the soft petals. His thick black hair is veiling his face, but his entire body is shaking violently. When Freddie moves closer, he sees a few drops of blood where thorns have pricked holes in Brian's flesh.He pulls tissues from the box on the nightstand and sits opposite Brian on the bed. "Give me your poor hands, darling," he says softly, not sure that Brian is actually awake. Brian complies, still weeping, and the flowers scatter all over the bed. The little cuts are easy to staunch, but the wound in Brian's heart won't be so easily healed. There's nothing for it but to let him cry it out, even though Freddie's own heart aches sympathetically.Because Brian is Brian, he starts apologising even through the wracking sobs. "I'm so sorry, Fred, I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry...""Ssh, ssh, don't. It's all right. I've got you, Brimi, it's okay now." Freddie's joints ache as he pulls himself over to the headboard so that Brian can fall into his arms, but nothing hurts as much as seeing his friend in such distress. "Of course you're upset, love, you've just lost your father."Brian drags one sleeve across his face to mop up the tears. His body is heavy against Freddie's, as if his sorrow had added weight to his bones. "It's not just that," Brian chokes out between sobs."Then what?" Freddie pets Brian the way he would one of the cats, fingers stroking gently along the arm that's flung across Freddie's chest. Brian just shakes his head, still crying softly, but Freddie is undeterred. He swipes away a tear with one finger. "You've been holding it in since you got here, darling, and now it's leaking out of your eyes."After a shuddering breath, Brian mumbles, "Every time I saw Dad, he'd become more and more diminished and there was nothing I could do to stop it. And I'm watching it all over again with you...and there's nothing I can do to stop it."Shocked, Freddie shivers at the implication. He tries not to think of himself as dying—there's no point, and it just makes him feel worse—but Brian's words remind him of the sword dangling over his head by a single fraying thread."I've still got some ginger left in me, love. It's not time to worry just yet.""It's all too much," Brian whispers, clinging tighter. "Promise you'll keep fighting, promise you won't leave me.""Darling, I can't promise that, and I won't lie to you." Freddie slips his arms around Brian's shoulders and lightly kisses his forehead. "Let's just create music and drink champagne and enjoy each other while there's still time.""I wish we had enjoyed each other more—all four of us. We wasted so much time fighting over stupid, petty details.""Perfection is never petty. Besides, if you weren't such a perfectionist, I wouldn't love you as much as I do—so there!" He relishes the shyly delighted noise Brian makes in response. "There's no point mourning over what we've lost, or what we won't have in a year or two. I'd rather enjoy what's right here." He stretches out under the covers, pulling Brian with him. "We haven't had a proper cuddle in years, and I don't intend to squander this opportunity."Brian calms at last, his breathing evening out as if he cautiously rations each inhalation. He curls up and rests his head on Freddie's chest. "I do love you, Fred.""That's terribly wise of you, darling. Now just go to sleep. You know Roger will be breaking down the door before noon, and he'll blame me if you still look like a Dickensian waif."As Brian settles down to sleep, Freddie hums softly and then begins to sing. He's so tired, so overcome with the emotions of the day, that he doesn't even realise what words he's crooning into Brian's ear."When I'm gone,
No need to wonder if I ever think of you.
The same moon shines,
The same wind blows
For both of us, and time is but a paper moon..."