A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

9. You Can Hide, But You Can't Run

Freddie

When I opened my eyes, I could hardly believe what lay before them.

I stood blinking, confused, and alone in a dark alleyway outside Ms. Henderson's wondering what in hell I was doing out here, missing my lovely birthday party and avoiding all my beautiful guests. I only vaguely recalled Paul alerting me about some uninvited guest, a child I believe, but beyond that I was at a total loss.

My God, I can't imagine who would even bring a child to party like mine anyway. I thought it was enough that the invitation stated I wanted all my guests in drag, but I suppose some people don't read between the lines, or don't care, or whatever. Not that that's my problem, they get what they get. Certainly by now, though, they've decided to shove off. It wouldn't take much, from my estimation, to convince someone their little nippers didn't belong.

But the real question was, why was I out here when my party was over there?

No matter. This much was easily enough corrected. With a careless shrug, I dusted off my hands, straightened my suspenders, and strode back the way I had apparently come, and quickly before Straker drank all the champagne.

Actually, no. That's not what happened at all.

I think I had a few of you there, too. Poor naive darlings. I am sorry. I really shouldn't do these sorts of things to you, I know, and make you want to kill me- but my God, it is so delicious to imagine your faces reading a little joke like this. Some of you take this whole thing so very seriously that I just can't resist it sometimes.

Right, I've had my bit of fun. Let's get back to it:

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Letting out a moan, I rubbed my face. Whatever the sedative was that those monsters had pumped into my veins, it was powerful stuff.

On the bright side, I'd finally gotten some sleep; trouble was, now I couldn't pull myself out of it. Although my body had the strength enough to move, my eyes refused to open. I had the idea of literally taking my fingers and peeling my stubborn lids apart, but not the energy to actually follow through just yet. All the same, I could see light shining through them- not too bright, more of a friendly, yellowish glow rather than the lab's harsh, fluorescent glare. I took some comfort in that, along with how I seemed to still have my memories intact.

Maybe I escaped, I thought hopefully. I don't remember any escape, true, but maybe I was too drugged to remember fighting them off. It wouldn't have taken much to outsmart them, God knows those fuckers likely didn't have a whole brain cell between them. Yes, perhaps that's what happened- and perhaps John or someone found me just before I officially went under. Yes. Maybe I'm okay after all.

Or maybe I'm not.

To be honest, a small part of me was frightened to so much as pry one eye open, on the very real chance that I would in fact find that enormous machine hovering an inch above my skull, with Gertrude's hand poised to erase every facet of the last seven days from my mind. I would rather have simply had what I described at the start happen, rather than witness such a fearsome thing as it began.

But no matter what awaited me, keeping myself in the dark would not earn me back a single second. I could not afford to waste any time, regardless of which era- past or future- was currently my present.

With that in mind, I finally forced my lids apart. I was lying on my side, nestled deep into the cushions of a sofa- but not Julia's sofa- in the parlor of a house that was not Julia's house. The air smelled strongly of lavender, and from some unknown location a woman's treacly soprano floated over my head. I rolled over onto my back and faced outward, though slowly in case I might agitate whoever, or whatever, was in the room with me.