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

15. Taking One for the Team

Freddie

As far as I could tell from where we stood, the kids still had not arrived for rehearsal. I craned my neck, looked all around the auditorium, but Danny and the rest of the little performers were nowhere to be found. My God, I said to myself, what's keeping them?

I must have really had a case of the jitters; behind me John offered an unhelpful bit of assurance, "We only just got here a minute ago, Freddie, don't worry; I'm sure he's fine."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered. "You know where all your children are."

I'm not sure if he heard me, but it's just as well if he didn't. My bad temper was grating even on my own nerves, so I have no doubt it was also getting on John's. I didn't care if it annoyed Rudy. To be honest, I didn't care about much of anything right that moment except one, to see to it that Danny was safe and sound- and two, for my awful headache to just fuck off already.

Odd, how since that morning the throbbing seemed to encompass my entire skull, rather than just the place where they had struck me. Mind you, my movements were nowhere as shaky, and standing up no longer set the room to spin, but this incessant tightness around my brain wasn't really much of a trade-off. Still, at least I could move on my own again, even if it currently hurt to so much as think.

If I was going to spot the boy before he spotted me, it would never do to just stand there in the aisle and suffer this poor angle. I needed a better view. So I headed toward the front of the room, where a handful of smartly dressed grown-ups had congregated behind the podium, several of which I recognized from previous excursions. A few dedicated holdovers scattered unevenly throughout the pews watched us sally forth, me charging on ahead just fast enough so that I didn't leave my two companions behind, or make any more of a scene than absolutely necessary.

It had been far too long since that morning's first and only cup of tea; as I walked, I took out a cigarette to perk me up a bit.

"Sir!" I stopped in my tracks, while from the center of the group emerged the voice's short, dapper owner who continued through a waxy grin, "Put those away, if you could. I'm afraid there's absolutely, positively, no smoking allowed in here."

Rolling my eyes, I stuffed the pack into the inside pocket of my jacket. Just another reason to miss home, I sighed. Back in '85, I have clout, money, and security; the cameras may be everywhere, but at least I can see them coming; and I certainly don't have to stand out in the fucking cold just to have a smoke. God, it'll be so good to get back home- and back to work.

"We just need to get this ironed out first, and then we're off," I muttered aloud.

John leaned toward my ear. "Get what ironed out?"

"This huge fucking mess. That's what."

"Right." He coughed. "So what would that mean exactly?"

"It means, we get out of here, we go home, and we never have to worry about Gertrude, or- or the other rats, or the social media, ever again."

"We?"

"Mm. That's what I said."

John let my words sink in. Then, very softly, he asked, "Was- that the 'royal we'?"

"Of course," I replied.

He nodded, mouth tightening at the corners. "Right."

"After all," I added with the slightest smile, "I should think all three of us could pass for royalty, really."

I could see confusion in the dear man's eyes, how they crinkled up as he looked at me. "Now, what does that mean?"

At this stage, K was the only person who knew I intended to bring Julia and Danny back with me, which was a bit ironic, given that he worked alongside the same people who were trying so very hard to split us up. If anyone deserved to be in on the details, John did- and since he was just as personally entrenched in this madness as the rest of us now, not to mention one of my loveliest, most loyal friends, I basically had every obligation to tell him.