Save Me (Roger Taylor FanFiction) [Wattys 2019]

29: Out of Nowhere

*12th January 1972*

"THIS TIME WE HAVE to press charges," Roger told me, picking up the phone to call the police. For the last few days I'd been too scared to phone them but Roger (rightfully) told me that it would be ridiculous if I didn't.

It would get Lucas away from me for good, after all.

"Fine," I told him. He smiled lightly at me supportively and then called the police.

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The police came and went, asking all their questions and trying to figure out exactly what had happened. They told me they'd get back to me but in the meantime, they'd have to arrest Lucas.

When they said that, it was like a weight had been lifted from my chest.

"Everything is going to get better from now on," Roger said, pulling me into a hug. I nodded into his shoulder and leaned into him.

I lifted my head to kiss him but his lips were already on mine before I'd even realised what was happening. He quickly deepened the kiss and pushed me, gently, against the nearest wall.

My arms circled around his neck and I pulled myself onto my tiptoes to be closer to him. His arms were tight around my waist until he started to tug on the bottom of my t-shirt. Roger really had a high sex-drive and he never really seemed to get tired.

I was more than willing to let him pull my t-shirt over my head until I suddenly had a very strong wave of nausea pass over me. I placed my hand on Roger's chest and pushed him away from me.

My hand suddenly flew to my mouth and my legs were already carrying me to the toilet before my brain had realised what was happening. When I got there, I hung my head over the toilet bowl and chucked up everything I'd had to eat that day.

"Are you alright, love?" Roger's worried voice came from the bathroom door which is left hanging open in my panic. I sat on the floor in front of the toilet, my head hanging low, still feeling very sick.

"I just suddenly felt really ill," I said, my voice was raspy from being sick. I wiped my watering eyes and flushed the toilet when the nausea subsided a bit.

"Was my kissing that bad?" Roger joked, sitting on the floor next to me, rubbing my back.

"Don't come close to me; if I'm sick I don't want you to get it,"

"Love, if you're sick I'm going to need to be taking care of you so I'll just take the risk," he laughed.

"Urgh, I don't feel good," I groaned, hanging my head over the toilet bowl again.

Roger held back my hair and rubbed little circles on my back while I threw up again. I groaned and shivered seen as I was still just in my bra and jeans.

"Just a minute, love," Roger said, disappearing out of the room. He returned a few moments later with his very fluffy dressing gown which he draped over my shoulders as I sat in front of the toilet.

I drew it close to me and inhaled the familiar smell of Roger. "Thank you," I smiled at him. He just smiled back and kissed the top of my head in reply.

"We should probably get you to bed," Roger said, wrapping his arm fully around my shoulders. "Do you think you can make it upstairs without chucking up again?"

"Probably," I said, feeling a bit better after having emptied my stomach.

"Right, up we go," he said as he lifted me to my feet. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders again and he led me upstairs and into the bedroom.

Helping me into bed and pulling the covers over me, he stroked my hair and smiled at me. "I'm going to get you a bucket so you don't need to run to the toilet," he told me, making his way back downstairs.

He returned with a bucket and a glass of water which I gladly gulped down.

"Don't gulp it, love, you'll just end up making yourself sick again," he said, taking the glass out of my hands.

But it was too late for that and he was right. I leaned over the bed and threw all the water back up again into the bucket he'd given me.

"I told you, love," he said, rubbing my back again. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? Maybe you'll feel better after you have a little rest. I'll open the window," he suggested and I nodded.

"Yeah, that's probably best," I told him with a small smile.

He pulled covers up to my shoulders, opened the window and took the bucket away to get rid of the vomit. I'd never be able to repay him for this and I'm sure he'll use this against me for something.

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"How're you feeling, love?"

"I'm feeling a lot better actually. How long was I sleeping for?" I yawned and rubbed my eyes.

"Oh, must've been about two hours," he said, looking at his watch.

"That's not too bad then," I said, sitting up. "That was really weird; that literally just completely came out of nowhere."

"Yeah, it is quite strange,"

Hmm. I wonder.

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A/N

Oh dear. I wonder why she's sick.

Hmm.

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