When You Get The Chance (maylor)

Epilogue

Freddie's POV
It's been almost a year since Roger died saving Brian. It's been nearly six months since Brian died.
The car swerved on the ice, and they had a head-on crash. When I got the call that Roger was killed, I was crushed. My drummer, my best friend... my family.
He was gone.
When I got to the hospital, Brian was curled up on the waiting room floor, sobbing. I couldn't get him calm, nobody ever really could when he got upset. Only Roger had that connection with him. When we got home, I walked him to his bedroom- their bedroom. He dropped to the bed, making sure to never lay on the right side. Roger slept on the right, and Brian to the left. Once he finally stopped the tears long enough to speak, he told me something that killed me inside.
"His last words were 'I love you'." And I couldn't get another word out. Brian would've been killed, but Roger jumped in front of Brian and absorbed the impact. He's a hero, he saved Brian. But I'll never get him back. A life for a life.

But that didn't last long.

Brian was never the same after the accident. He only left his room for food and to use the bathroom, but he stopped eating after a while. He would only have tea and water, apple-cinnamon with a spoon of scotch. He never liked alcohol in the morning, but Roger did. Apple cinnamon with scotch was his favorite, never liked anything else.
And one day, he just gave up. I had gone to bring him some tea, and I saw him. I dropped the teacup. "No!" I ran over to Brian, but it was too late. I pushed the chair to the side and pulled him down. "No, no, no, it can't end like this," But it already had.

I pass the headstones and markers until I come to the two most familiar. I come here every week, I can't bear to go an entire week without seeing them. I read the headstones.

Roger Meddows Taylor                                                                                Brian Harold May
Born July 26, 1949                                                                                       Born July 19, 1947
Died October 14, 1983                                                                                 Died April 20, 1984

I should've told them to stay home, that driving in snow is dangerous without snow chains. But I didn't. I realize now that maybe it's not my fault, the car would've crashed anyway. Still, I can't not cry every time I visit the cemetery. It's too hard to live without my best friend. It's another to live without two of my best friends. I miss them both everyday, but I know it'll be okay. They're both okay and together now.

                                             Brian packed up his guitar and went home.