With Friends Like These

Flashback: The Long Journey Home

Roger was driving. He didn't know where, all he knew was that he had to get away from here. He continued down the seemingly never ending road, into the unknown. It was dark, and gentle drops of rain landed on the windshield, and the wind howled.

The setting absolutely described his mood.

It was November 25th, 1991. His best friend had just died the day before.

And Roger couldn't be any more numb.

He had been driving over to see him that day, when Phoebe rang and told him "Don't bother, he's already gone." Roger hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye, or how much he had meant to him.

Roger thought about this and wiped a lone tear from his eye. Then he went back to driving.

Brian sat in his living room, staring out the window at nothing. A few hot embers were in the fireplace, and that was the only thing lighting up the room. Brian kept staring, hoping, that maybe it wasn't true, that Freddie would knock on the door, and Brian would run into his arms, and breath in his scent, and get to tell him how much he cared about him. But that could never happen.

Brian got up, put on his coat and shoes, and stepped outside. He didn't plan on coming back. He stepped out onto his front porch. By now, the rain had stopped and the clouds had cleared, showing a waning half moon surrounded by stars. Brian would have gotten out the telescope, but he wasn't excited about space right now. He didn't know if he could feel anything again. He walked for about twenty minutes, and glanced at the time. Eleven thirty at night.

And not by coincidence, Roger was driving on the same road Brian was walking on. He was planning on going to Brian's house, but as soon as he saw Brian's forlorn face, he stopped.

"Roger?"

"Brian, what are you doing out on the streets so late?"

"Taking a walk."

"At eleven thirty at night?"

"Yeah..."

Brian sniffed, his eyes welling up with tears. He blinked them away, but Roger saw.

"Come on, get into my car. I'll drive you home."

So Brian got into Roger's car, and they sat in silence except for some smooth jazz Roger was playing. Roger sheepishly turned it off.

"You don't have to turn it off, Rog." Brian said.

They both reached for the switch at the same time, and their hands touched. It was an accidental gesture, but Brian blushed. Roger pulled his hand away and Brian turned it back on. They sat in silence for the rest of the way back to Brian's house.

Roger got out of the car and escorted Brian to the door. But just as he turned to leave, Brian burst into tears.

"Brian! What's wrong?"

"P-please," he gasped. "D-don't leave me a-alone here all by myself."

Roger put his hand on Brian's shoulder, and led him inside. They sat on the couch together, and listened to the howling wind while Brian sobbed.

"I miss him too, Brian."

"I know," Brian whimpered. "I don't want to live in a world without him."

"Brian, don't say that!" Roger exclaimed, horrified that Brian would say something so...suicidal.

"But it's true. I've been um...really depressed ever since my dad died, and Freddie's passing only made it worse. I don't know what to do..."

Roger couldn't express his feelings in words, so he just wrapped his arms around Brian and embraced him, and Brian hugged him back. And there they sat on the couch, arms around each other, not speaking, not talking about anything, just hearing the sound of their own breath and hugging.

And the wind howled.