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When Brian woke up that morning, he knew he was ill.He'd turned out of bed a bit light headed and had an upset stomach, but it wasn't anything to worry about. He knew if he ate breakfast and drank a glass of water he would be alright after an hour, so he had enough time to make it to rehearsal and get to feeling okay again.After breakfast, he quickly showered and got ready, but wasn't finding himself feeling any better even after he'd eaten so he guessed it was a bit of a cold coming on. Again, no big deal.On his way to the studio, he felt his stomach ache becoming a bit worse and grew more nauseous as the ride went on from the movement of the car, but powered through even when he felt his forehead and remarked he was a bit flushed. By the time he arrived, he was running cold so he pulled a jacket over himself in an attempt to warm up even when he knew he was heated to the touch.Brian pulled his guitar out of his case by himself as he was the first one to show and warmed up, running his fingers over the cords in no particular rhythm. His stomach pain was getting worse and soon he'd begun shivering a bit, so he decided to relax a bit against the amps behind him, closing his eyes for a moment.
A moment became more than half an hour, and when the rest of the group appeared he'd woken from the noise of all three bantering and shouting at each other. Brian sat up, running his hands over his face to wake himself up a bit more. His stomach issue had become much worse, and his head was hammering cruelly. It was a bit late to go home, and he had nothing in his guitar case for his ailments, so he decided he'd just make it through the day and go home for rest after practice."You okay?" Roger asked as he set up on his kit, flicking his sticks against the metal side of the drums."Yeah, I just have a bit of a headache," Brian replied, standing up slowly while adjusting his instrument over his waist. "I'm good, though.""Are you sure? We could do this tomorrow, love." Freddie sympathized as he set up his microphone. Clearly, no one wanted to cancel, as they were all there, but as Brian was ill they would. However, he didn't want to be
that
guy."No, no, really, I'm good."
All three decided they would take his word for it, as he seemed headstrong about being okay.Through the practice, he attempted to keep himself upright and playing, though it was getting harder as the day buzzed on and his headache became a pounding migraine. His chills had begun to shift and he was now sweating and hot which forced him to remove his jacket and roll up his long sleeves to get relief, which did help but not quite as much as he'd wished.Suddenly, Brian ceased playing in the middle of a song and sat down, setting his head in his hands in distress."Brian?" Roger asked while Brian put up a hand to hush him as a reply.Freddie stepped down from the stage and approached his friend, taking his chin and raising it before placing a hand on his forehead. He was certainly, if not obviously, running a fever."You have a fever, Brian." Freddie stated as if he didn't know."I'm aware." He replied with an edge, placing his hands on the sides of his face. Brian sighed deeply, sitting up and looking over at his friend who seemed somewhat hurt at his attitude."I just don't feel well, I'm sorry, Fred."The singer nodded, patting him on the back with an understanding expression. "I get it, dear. We can take a break, or we could get you home, your choice."Brian thought it over for a moment but decided on a short break instead of stopping altogether. The break lasted only a few more minutes while he collected himself and concluded he was ready to get back to work, preparing himself for the loudness of the instruments.Once they got playing again he began to regret his choice of not going home as he became light-headed from the pounding in his head and the way his stomach felt like it was twisting. Brian was now sweating a bit as he was playing, as a mixture of excursion and the fever. His skin was paling and his hands were becoming shaky and cold as he played, but it didn't seem to be stopping him any time soon as he worked on, eventually opting to sit down instead of stopping.Brian, after more than two hours of playing, had begun to feel a bit light-headed and stood wearily, using his amp as leverage.
"Brian you don't look good, you need to sit down." John suggested as he turned his bass to his side."I don't feel
good..." He mumbled, placing a hand over his head and the other over his guitar. His pale skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his eyes were becoming glassy as he moved his instrument out of his way, swaying a bit.Brian lurched forward as Roger and Freddie approached, coughing harshly without any results. He sat down as to keep himself somewhat upright, once again feeling himself beginning to choke. This time, something did come up and it made him regret eating such a heavy breakfast that morning as it burned his throat and made him only gag
more.
The other three watched this happen, Roger breaking off to grab him a wetted towel and a trash can so he wouldn't continue vomiting on the carpet of the studio. Once Brian had his trash can, he gripped it between his thighs with both arms wrapped around it as he continued to retch into it, even the sight of his own throw-up making him sicker.Once he was done he gasped, placing his forehead on the edge of the can and puffed laboriously. The sweat had begun to bead against his forehead from the strain of vomiting and his hands were shaking unevenly. Roger helped by placing the wet towel on the back of his neck, dabbing it gently as Brian groaned into the can."You shouldn't breathe in that, here," Freddie told, taking the trash can away from Brian as he weakly kept his hands on it. He only placed it on the floor, however. "better?"Brian nodded subtly as he stood wearily, sitting on the floor and placing his head against one of the amps. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat, the taste of bile still lingering in his mouth."I'll get some water." John mentioned to Freddie and Roger who nodded.
When he returned with a bottle of water, he opened it and handed it to Brian who took a few drinks before dribbling a bit onto his face, cooling himself down nicely."Do you need anything? We're calling a chauffeur." One of them
asked, however, Brian wasn't sure who as he was more focused on not vomiting up the water he'd just drunk."No." Is all Brian said as he proceeded to rock his head gently back and forth against the amp, attempting to keep his mind off of his aching stomach. It didn't exactly help as he leaned forward again, grabbing the trash can next to him quickly and began to gag once again. Nothing came up besides a few small burps and groans of pain, but he kept it in front of him anyway in case something did.The main cause of his sickness seemed to be his pounding migraine that was still hammering on in his skull, which the vomiting didn't help.When the
chauffeur arrived he was hardly conscious as he was drifting in and out of a disoriented state. Brian was assisted in standing and getting outside as he still was a bit weak in the knees and needed to hold the trash can with a white-knuckle grip.All three decided to pack up for the day and join him in the car, as it was big enough for all four with enough room to give their sick friend space. Once inside, Brian pushed himself into the side door as far as he could and placed the can under his chin, using it as leverage for his head.He looked absolutely miserable and every time they would hit a bump, he would clutch the bin a bit tighter and prepare himself for the inevitable, even if it didn't come. Brian lived a bit away from his home or any of the other member's homes, so the trip took a while."Are you gonna be okay?" Roger asked in concern, leaning forward a bit as everyone else looked Brian's way."I just," Brian paused, taking a deep breath as they stopped abruptly. "I need to just..." He didn't finish his sentence, instead pulling his head into the bin in his hands."If we need to stop just let us know." Freddie told as he ran a hand over his friend's leg sympathetically.After a few more minutes in the car, they were alerted they would be making a stop for gas, and Freddie confirmed the request over the intercom. Once pulled into the station, Brian felt himself beginning to get sick again and set down his trash can in the floorboard, opening the door as quickly as he could."Hey, where are you going?" Roger asked, leaning forward to grab his friend who was already exiting the car. He followed behind closely."I need air." Brian urged as he gripped his friend's shoulder for support, one hand traveling to his stomach as he winced in pain. "Also a bathroom."Roger quickly jumped into action, guiding him inside the station in search of a bathroom. Brian's hand that he was currently gripping was clammy and cold along with shaking strongly which concerned him especially when he turned back and saw how ghostly white he was becoming once again, meaning he was running out of time before he threw up again."Here, in here!" Roger urged, practically shoving Brian into the men's toilet and slamming the door.When he was inside, he fell to his knees and gripped the toilet with a strong hold, his hands quivering wearily as he felt himself heave into the toilet which brought up mostly stomach acid and water. Brian coughed forcefully, his body shaking from the vile flavor in his mouth. Before he could catch his breath he was once again forced over the bowl, coughing violently with spit dribbling down his lips that dripped into the water lazily.Roger knocked carefully on the door, quietly waiting for a reply until Brian groaned achingly as a response."You okay? It sounds like you're coughing up your organs in there.""I
feel
like I'm coughing up my organs." Brian replied, grunting in agony."Alright well...John and Freddie have some medicine out here for you," He heard his friend retch once again, this time letting out a choked cry from the distress he was in. "just...Whenever you're done.""Is that him?" Freddie asked as he gripped a pill bottle full of medicine for his migraine, a grimace on his face."Yeah, he's not really having a great time." Roger replied with wide eyes."Poor thing..."
The three of them sat outside of the bathroom door for the rest of the time he puked and wept, occasionally asking if he was okay to which they got small 'Mhm's or coughs in response. They were quite surprised by how much he could throw up, as he hadn't eaten that much that day and his stomach had to be empty by now. However, most of what was coming up was mainly bile and stomach acids which created heartburn and a sore throat on the sick man.When he was quiet for more than a few minutes, Roger slowly opened the door and saw Brian slumped over the bowl with his head on his forearm. He was breathing heavily in exhaustion and tears were covering his face from a moment before. His cheeks were red from pressure, and his entire body was covered in sweat, most of it covering his back that made his shirt stick to his skin.
"Brian?" Roger asked quietly, stepping into the bathroom and reaching out for his friend who flinched from the feeling."Please don't touch me," He begged, taking a stifled and shaky breath. "don't touch me."The drummer backed away with his hands up, placing them into his pockets wearily."Do you think you're ready to get going?" Roger coaxed in a slow, soft-spoken way.Brian grunted as he pulled himself up from the floor, running his hands over his shirt that was stained dark grey with sweat running down his back and front. His face turned even brighter crimson as he realized this."Hey," Roger said, getting his friend's attention. "we can get you a new shirt, you're fine.""Okay, I'm sorry." He mumbled in confusion, allowing himself to be taken by the arm and guided out of the bathroom. Freddie entered right after when Brian couldn't see and sprayed cologne to camouflage the smell of vomit, which John smacked him on the arm for.Brian was feeble and could hardly stand from losing everything in his stomach's contents, causing him to nearly faint more than once in his friend's arms. Now with Freddie, John,
and
Roger helping him walk, it was easier to make it back to the car without suffering any injuries worse than he'd already been through. He sat in one of the seats with the car door open for air, his head resting against the seat with his legs outside of the vehicle.
His friends went inside the station for a few things before coming out with a bottle of water, a jacket of crackers, a dry shirt with the gas station's logo on it, and anti-nausea medicine.
Upon seeing what they got, Brian felt his stomach flip again."We got you something to settle your stomach, some stuff for your puking, and a shirt so you won't be...Yeah." Told John, holding each item as he spoke.
"No, I can't eat that," He assured, waving his hand out in front of him. "I won't hold it down."Freddie, the more forceful man of the group, placed the crackers on his lap along with holding out the bottle of water."Drink, eat, and take these." He pointed at the bottle of rattling pills in Roger's hands.
Brian knew he didn't have a choice, and he really didn't want to be pushed to do it, so he figured his only choice was to just choke it down and try to keep it down. He took the medicine in one hand and the water in the other, quickly swallowing both the anti-nausea and the tablet for his headache. After, he took the crackers and gradually gnawed on one as slow as possible as he was concerned it would be coming up nevertheless."Better?" Freddie inquired, not waiting for his reply. "Better."He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but they opted to wait out in case Brian needed anything more or needed to puke again. He, of course, declined the idea but when you're halfway dazing out of consciousness your opinions don't matter apparently.
After nearly twenty minutes of waiting for him to get nauseous again, they all decided it was time to leave as he was most likely being taken care of from the medication they pumped him full of."Okay, so who's place are we going to?" Roger asked, scanning the car for an answer."Mine, Brian shouldn't be alone like..." Freddie looked over at his friend who was running his hand through his curly hair anxiously. "That."They all agreed collectively and continued with small talk, occasionally attempting to get Brian in on the conversation but either getting no response or receiving a slight glance before going back to what he was doing, which was focusing on eating his crackers.Of course, as he knew would happen, as soon as the ride got a bit bumpier he began to feel nauseous again. It was apparent as he'd sat forward quickly, placing both hands on his bin in the floorboard, and made
very strong eye contact with the floor."I told you I didn't want to eat," Brian scolded in frustration. "and this is what I knew would happen!""Hey, Brian-" Freddie began before his friend jerked forward, once again emptying the contents in his stomach.He gasped heavily, spittle dripping from his mouth as he heaved ahead, this time only coming up with more heavy coughing. Once he was finished he placed his arms in a cross over the bin, resting his head on top of them."I wanna go home." Brian moaned, his chest rising and falling heavily as he closed his eyes. The rest of the men didn't reply, simply keeping quiet as their friend quickly fell asleep.When he was awake, somewhat, again he was laying on a couch covered in a multitude of blankets. Despite burning up earlier he was now freezing, even with the covers over him. Brian sat up wearily, his head pounding, and looked around the room.He was in Garden Lodge and seemed to be alone until he heard Roger's voice in the kitchen. He was attempting to whisper but was clearly not well based on the fact that he could hear him."He's gonna throw it up again, Fred." Is what he heard, along with Freddie's reply which was 'Or he might not. You need food to live, my love.'From the smell of it, Freddie was cooking something in the kitchen. Brian stood shakily, finding himself in a jacket and pajama pants he wasn't aware he'd switched into. John was closest to him and upon seeing him, sat up."Hey, how ya' feeling?" John asked, alerting the other two to his company who stepped out of the kitchen.Brian shrugged, still feeling a bit nauseous and tired."Do you wanna eat something, darling?" The singer offered, pointing to the kitchen.He entered the kitchen and sat at the counter, resting his head on his hand as Freddie set a plate of dry toast in front of him with a glass of orange juice."If you need anything else, let us know."Brian began to eat his breakfast, despite it being quite late in the day, and sighed deeply with fatigue. He wanted to go back to sleep and rest away his headache and joint pains, but by the way his friend's were staring him down, he knew it once again wasn't his choice.After his meal, he sat there sliding his empty plate and glass around a bit in boredom, Freddie taking the dishes once he noticed he was done."Do you feel better now that there's at least something in your stomach?" Roger asked from across the room on one of the couches."Sure, yeah, Rog." Brian replied carefully, gripping his jacket and pulling it around his body as he shivered. He got up from the counter and headed for the couch once again, slowly pulling himself over the sofa and yanking all of the blankets back over his aching body. Brian was hyper touch sensitive, and every movement was uncomfortable but once he was tucked in on Freddie's couch, he was content.He drowsed off for a bit of time before Roger shook him awake gently, a glass of water in his hand with a thermometer in the other."I will be your doctor, Mr.May, open wide." Roger joked.Brian was still a bit out of it, and as soon as he sat up his body reject the motion and he quickly pulled his torso over the couch, expelling his breakfast on to Freddie's carpet."Okay, or that." The drummer mumbled, putting the thermometer into his pocket."I- 'm sorry," Brian stammered, breathing laboriously. "I'm so sorry."He went red as he apologized, completely humiliated he'd just done that.Freddie entered the room with a handful of towels, placing them over the carpet carefully."You didn't mean to. Roger, get him a bucket." He directed, continuing to put down rags."I'm really sorry..." He mumbled as he placed his head back onto his pillow, sighing heavily. Freddie replied, but he wasn't paying attention enough to hear him, even when his friend looked at him for a response.He felt his head get a bit hazier, and he sat up in an attempt to stop it from aching which made sense at the moment. Freddie continued attempting to speak to him, getting more frantic but Brian wasn't paying attention. He felt his friend's hand on his shoulder but soon he was slumping forward unconsciously, the singer quickly grabbing him.This was Brian's second time in the same day waking up in a new place, and once is too many times for anyone.
This time, he woke to a loud beeping noise and a sharp pain in his arm. When he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital room with Roger and Freddie bickering in the corner while John just looked annoyed in one of the chairs in front of the bed."Oh look, it's our favorite sickie!" John announced loudly and clearly as to get the other men's attention. It worked, and soon they were all focused on Brian who just wanted to go back to bed.The color had returned to
his face and body, and his headache was depleting quite nicely which he appreciated. The IV in his arm burned, but other than that he was mostly okay."How do you feel, Brian? You remember ruining my rug and passing out?" Freddie asked with a smile, running his fingers over the plastic of the hospital bed."Uh, yeah...Sorry about that," He replied with his cheeks becoming red and his heart rate picking up in embarrassment, something that everyone noticed as he was hooked up to a heart monitor. "I feel better, though.""Well, you're gonna stay overnight just in case." Roger started. "They think you're just dehydrated, but they're doctors and doctors overcompensate because they're stu-"Freddie cut him off by slapping his upper arm roughly, glaring at him. Roger rubbed his arm, giving an equally angry glare at his friend.Brian sat back in his bed, running his hands over his arms as he was still quite cold. In front of him, Freddie and Roger bickered back and forth while John was just watching and sighing, occasionally giving Brian a smile to which he returned.Though he was in a hospital bed, exhausted, hooked to an IV, and spent most of the day puking up his guts, he was content with having his best friend's there for him, even if they were fighting as always.