No Rememberance - A Deacury Fanfiction

6. But Please, You Must Forgive Me

Hey all you pretty people, have you read Waking Up In 1973? I'm writing it with my best friend, MirandaDeacon, and we're doing pretty good. Check it out on our joined account, PlatonicDeacury!

(Also: slight smut warning at the end of the chapter idk, I'm garbage at smut.)

Brian

Allow me to explain why I've been so quiet lately.

It's not easy... both explaining why and being quiet in general. When I saw what happened to Freddie, first, I was hyper-sensitive, I was alert. I felt like I needed to do something.

Then when we found out he forgot who he was... I felt like there was nothing.

Nothing at all. I felt empty.

Like I had no right to talk. If Freddie lost his memory, I lost my words.

I could tell that John would never be the same after that. I knew that he would need someone to run to. Someone to get the heartbreak out of his head.

I could already tell that someone would be me.

...

"John? Are you--"

He races out of the room. I follow him out to the hallway. I see him with his head between his knees. He looks up, face stained with tears.

"John," I say again.

He looks at me.

"He's gone," John whispers softly.

"What do you mean? Freddie's alive and in there."

"No, it's not him. It's not him and you know it."

And he's right. It's not him. I know that.

What can I do?

I go to his side. "I know, John. It looks like... Freddie has a memory problem. Like...like amnesia. But did you see the car?"

"Mhm..."

"Then you'd know how worse it could have been. Thank goodness he only lost his memory."

"What do you mean thank goodness? Are you glad he doesn't remember me?"

"John, you know that's not what I meant. Your letting anger cloud your judgment."

He puts his head between his knees again.

"Go back into the room with Roger. He needs you. I...I can't go in there. I'm not strong."

I stand back up.

"You are strong John."

"How the hell can you say that? You're lying to me. I. Am. Not. Strong. You know it. Go with Roger. I'm walking outside. Don't follow me, ok?"

I wanted to. I wanted to walk with him so badly. But I realized that he needed his own time.

...

"Brian," Roger says, pulling me out of my thoughts. We're laying on the couch, looking at the TV.

"Yeah?" I manage to croak.

"He's not doing so good."

It almost breaks my heart that I have to think to who Roger's talking about.