Save Me [A Maylor Story]

H2 Sweet dreams!

Third Person POV

Brian found himself on stage, his Red Special by his side. It was definitely a Queen gig, though the other guys were nowhere to be found. The audience shouted and chanted his name, and they completely lost it as he took his guitar and played to see if it was tuned. He had absolutely no idea why he was there or where John, Roger and Freddie had gone off to when he realised he had been standing on stage like an idiot for quite some time, for someone made wild gestures to get his attention and clarify that he actually had to play something. Without drums, bass and lead vocals, there wasn't much use of his electric guitar, so he switched it for his twelve string acoustic and played a few chords. A chair and microphone were put on the centre of the stage, and as he sat down, the audience watched his every move.

'Uhm... Hello, I am Brian May. As you have probably noticed, the other guys are absent for now, but they'll be here soon. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to play for a while. This song is called Doing All Right.'

Brian played the first song, then a second and a third, but after 45 minutes there still wasn't any sign of the rest of the band. He excused himself and took a break, asking the man backstage, who he now recognised as their bodyguard Jerry, how much longer the guys would need to get here.

'They're not coming. And now that I think of it, you're not going back up there either. You've been quite a pain in the ass, Brian, which is why I saved you for last.'

More people closed in on Brian, while Jerry tied his hands behind his back.

'Take him to the others. He can talk to them, but when they adress the forbidden topics, you follow plan C67, understood?'

Jerry left, and Brian was escorted to a white van just outside the building. Two guys sat with him in the back to make sure he wouldn't escape, though he couldn't if he tried, for the ties holding his hands were too tight to get loose on his own.

'Tell me what on earth this is supposed to be! What have you done to them?'

Brian tried not to cry thinking of what they could have done to his best friends. He wanted to sound angry and intimidating, but the crack in his voice and the desperate look on his face only made the guards laugh.

'You'll see, curly boy, you'll see.'

Nothing but silence filled the air until they arrived at their destination. To ensure he didn't know where he was, one of the guys had blindfolded Brian, leaving him with only the sounds around him to figure out where they had stopped. He was herded into a building, trough doors and up and down stairs when they went into a room and pushed him to the ground and took off the blindfold and the ties.
The room was dark and airy, though there weren't any windows. By the door stood three tall guys armed with guns. The room was split in two by a row of bars. On the other side, three shadowy figures grunted of pain from time to time. One of them managed to walk forward to see who was brought into their prison, reveiling the product of torture and disobedience by stepping into the light.

Brian POV

'Roger? Are you all right? What have they done to you?'

I rushed forwards to support his failing body and kept him from falling on the cold floor, though the bars made it difficult to hold him properly. Roger looked terrible: both his eyes were black; he had blood running from his nose and mouth; his hair was cut and shaven off on some places and his body was covered in bruises and cuts.

'Roger can you hear me? Answer me! Please come back to me Rog...'

I started to sob as he didn't respond to any of my words when he opened his eyes. I could see they had broken him by the way he tried to tell me something, he looked hurt and scared, perhaps traumatised.

'Don't leave me... They... They came at night... We were never the main target... You... Look out for....'

He passed out in my arms and I layed him down on the floor, careful not to hurt him while doing so. Then I got up, wiping the tears from my eyes, and turned to the guards at the door.

'What do you want from us? We have no money, no status. Why have you brought us here?' I yelled, barely able to restrain myself from hitting Benji, who stood closest to me.

'QUIET! It won't be long, for we now know who we need. Benji, Tom, go tell the master. I'll keep an eye on these guys.'

Jerry forced me to the floor and gestured the other two to leave. I could only guess what they needed Roger for, but I doubted it was for eating cookies and petting kittens.
Roger didn't move, and the only way I knew that Deacy and Freddie were in the back was because they whispered reassuring words to eachother, indirectly letting me know they were probably not hurt as bad as Roger.

'Deacy! Fred! Are you all right back there?'

'Don't worry darling, we're fine. Guess they didn't want to ruin our sweet little John's fairy princess hair. Roger needs medical aid as soon as possible though, I think they knew all along which one of us they needed to hurt you. Stay strong, Bri, it's up to you now.'

'Okay, but can you tell me what's the meaning of this? Why do they want to hurt us, what use could that possibly have?'

'I don't know, but we've been here for almost a day now. We must get out of here once we can, or Roger might not live to play drums another day, darling. Hurry.'

Freddie went back to comforting John, telling him something about a dorky science poodle who was going to fix all this. But how could I, if I wasn't even sure why we were brought here in the first place?

A few hours had passed when two guys, Benji and Tom, came in, and had a conversation with Jerry. They looked at me every once in a while, which wasn't very calming. After a while, they came to me.

'You. Up.' He told me, and he said to Tom: 'Take the angry blond one and get to room 65.'

'No don't hurt him! Please let him stay here, you'll kill him!'

I tried to prevent them from taking Roger, but Jerry pulled me back and took me away from the others. We went down stairs for quite some time and then Jerry told me to go ahead, for the hallway had no other exits apart from the one on the end, which was room 65. I sat down at a large table as Jerry closed the door and went to find something in one of the cupboards on my right side. Just a few minutes later, Tom and Benji arrived, carrying Roger to the table. They made it clear I wasn't allowed to check up on him, but I could sit by his side. I tried not to cry as I ran my fingers through his once so beautiful blond hair, which was now filled with blood and cut off at some places. Sweet Roger, who was never mine.

Jerry tied me to my chair using ducttape and then woke up Roger by holding a tiny bottle under his nose. He looked around, confused at first, but then he started to scream and he tried to get off the table, but due to his wounds, he couldn't.

'Roger!'

'Oh shut up poodle head.' Jerry stood behind the table, sharpening his knife. 'It'll all be fine soon. Just wait.'

'Why are you doing this? What have we ever done to you? Let us go!'

'So you don't remember then, huh? I auditioned for your little band. You wouldn't let me in, even though I play the guitar much better than you, I had lessons for fifteen years! You guys turned me down, saying you already had a guitarist. This is my revenge, and you will remember me forever!'

As he said that, he held his knife above Roger's heart.

'Stop! Don't do this! Please, I'll do anything! Don't kill him, don't kill-'

As the knife was slammed into Roger's chest, I woke up, sweating.