I still love you | Maylor fanfiction

48

Freddie's P.O.V.

"Brian?" I repeated, my voice quavering, hardly managing stand up on my feet. He didn't move. He just laid there in this cramped position, his face hidden in his hair, not moving a single muscle, not making a single sound.
I grasped into the door frame. My shoulders were going up and down from heavy breathing. I couldn't rip my eyes away from him, captured in total shock.
Was he- was he-
"Brian!" I screamed, hoping, pleading, begging for him to respond. Anyhow. The slightest reaction was all what I was asking. Just- just.... please, please just don't let him be- let him be-

I gasped for air when I saw his fingers twitch very gently. Slowly, carefully and weakly he brought his hands up to his face, cowering up, turning his back at me.
"Oh Brian," with the enormous wave of relief, my legs finally gave up underneath me, and I leaned against the doorframe, sliding to the ground.
"Brian," I kept on rambling, kneeling down, reaching my hands towards the body next to me. I tried to get hold of his hand, overlying it with mine, shivering one, not wanting to scare him off.
He started to shake, his shoulders rattling from the sobs he tried to hold in.
"Brian, my dear, what's wrong?" I whispered, having a hard time not to burst out and cry as well. I leaned over him, as a caring mother would over her child, gently taking his hands and removing them off his face.

Thank god he wasn't hurt. Not physically. No one had beaten him up. But emotionally- that was a much different case.
He didn't speak. He just silently cried, tears running unstoppablly down his face, without a single sound coming from him. I sat him leaned against the bathroom wall, my arm hung around him, hugging him as comfortingly as I only could. I didn't speak either. I didn't ask, even though I had so many questions I was dying to know the answers for. I didn't try to make him feel better with any empty words, I knew it wouldn't be helpful at all. I just held him, waiting in silence.

"Roger," his voice sounded weakly next to my head out of the blue. "Have you seen Roger?"
My heart beat faster when I heard him finally say something. I tried to hide my excitement to not make it any harder for him than it obviously already was.
"No,"I responded quietly, shaking my head. "We went looking for you both, me to the hotel, Deaky to the stadium. I didn't see him, but Deaky might. He'll probably come around sometime."
Brian didn't respond anyhow. He stopped crying by now, the last tears just drying on his skin. He stared into the ground blankly, his expression completely empty.
"Do you want to maybe tell me what happened?" I asked softly, frowning and watching him carefully.
He avoided my gaze. He was sitting there, staring right in front of himself into the open space, his weak body gently and uncontrollably yanking itself underneath my hands. I felt a stab in my heart when I realized what a wreck he was right now. For the love of god, what happened?!

He parted his lips, inhaling as if he wanted to say something, but then staying silent. He was gulping the air, unable to get a word out of himself, not knowing what to say.
"Roger," he finally yelped silently. I scowled, closing my eyes for a bit. I knew it. I knew something had happened in between them, I knew Roger hurt Brian this bad. But how?! How the hell?! How could he?!
"What did he do?" I whispered, rubbing his back comfortingly.
"He-" Brian gasped for air before he could finish, still determined not to look into my face. But I noticed more, new tears escaping his eyes. "He was drugged."
"Oh fucking shit," a curse escaped my lips before I could stop it.
"He just- turns out he t-took drugs before the concert, and, and he drank before all the gigs, a-and it is my fault, and-" now suddenly words were running out of his mouth rapidly, and he couldn't be stopped.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," I interrupted him. "Just breathe. Breathe and tell me what exactly is going on here."
"Well," he breathed. "I promised him I wouldn't tell you. But after all what happened... I think it's only good to break my promise."

He went on. He told me the whole story. Starting at the beginning, at our first gig ever, reminding me of how sick Rog was that night. He revealed to me that it wasn't just any ordinary ilness the drummer had, but already then he was so nervous about going on stage, it was getting him into horrible and dreadful states. So he decided to solve it by drinking. It got worse, Brian tried to help, convinced he managed to succeed, but Roger lied to him and kept on drinking. And just yesterday, Brian found out what was happening the whole time.

"Oh god," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "Those two last concerts. We noticed a Rog was acting weird. It must have been those two when he took the drugs."
Brian just nodded, staying silent.
"Brian?" I asked.
"Hm?" He turned his sad gaze towards me.
"What happened last night?"
He looked down again, his lower lip trembling.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I added quickly, when I saw how much pain was it causing him, to just think about it.
"I feel like I should," he murmured in response. "I caught him kissing a girl."
"Oh that fucking piece of motherfucking shit," I exclaimed. I couldn't even imagine how much it must have hurt Brian. How much heartbroken he must have felt.
Brian always tried to act as if everything was fine. He tried now too, but it didn't work that well this time. Behind the tough shell, I saw a core, wounded, broken, hurting, crying.
Right now, I was so angry at Rog, I don't care if he had problems with which he needed our help, I just wanted to run him over with one of the cars he loved so much. This was so unfair to Brian, why does Roger always have to do such shit?!

"So I left, but he ran after me and then... I saw it. And I walked away. I probably shouldn't have, I should have stayed and try to listen to his explanation..."
"Brian, no," I stoped him. "No. What you did was totally reasonable, understandable and right. You are a human being, you have feelings too. This all is Rog's fault. You tried to help, but he didn't listen."
I noticed his eyes getting watery again.
"But I love him so much..." he whispered.
I wrapped my hand around him, hugging his right once again.
"I know honey," I replied softly. "He means a lot to me too. Even when he acts like dick most of the time. But you need to stop feeling guilty first."
"I went back here later in the night, when I calmed down and thought it through," he said as if he ignored me. "He was here and... we had a fight. A big one."
"Did he hurt you anyhow? What did he do? What did he say?" I bombarded him with questions, hardly holding myself back.
He paused for a split second.
"No."
A lie.
"No he didn't."
I knew Brian was lying. I knew it. But I decided not to push too hard on him. It was his privacy.
"But... he left. He ran away, I have no idea where he might be. He was still in a pretty- pretty bad shape when he left."
His voice was shivering. My breath got stuck in my throat as I watched him in amazement. Roger hurt him so bad, he must have said some ugly stuff too and pity himself, they had an enormous fight, but he still cared about Roger this much. I couldn't believe my eyes neither my ears. This was one of the loveliest things I've ever seen.
I cleared my throat because I didn't want my voice breaking.
"It's alright-"

Just as I started talking, extremely loud and I must say quite terrifyingly aggressive thumping and rattling cane from the front door of the hotel room, making ur both jump in shock. I leaned a bit to see through the bathroom doorframe on the door. The someone behind them continued on banging on them as if it was for his life.
"Who the hell is that?" I frowned.
The slender guy sat next to me just shrugged, he couldn't possibly give less fuck about anything else than his lover right now.
"I'll check it out before he brings it down," I said, starting to get up. A second too late.
The door went flying open as the person have them a kick and broke the lock.
"Fucking Deaky?!" I squeaked, startled, up on my feet in a second.
"Oh Brian," he rushed right past me, wrapping his hands around the guitarist who was standing next to me. "Thank god you're okay."
He pulled away, and I could see how sweaty he was, his cheeks burning red. He must have ran all the way.
"You wouldn't believe how worried I was. Roger isn't at the stadium. Do you know where he is Brian?"
"Somewhere In the city," I answered so that Brian didn't have to. "We have to go find him."
"Alright," John nodded, turning around and heading out of the door again.
"I'm going with you," Brian announced.
"Oh no, no speaking, you aren't," I stopped him. "You will stay right here and get some rest, and we will come back with Rog, okay?" I didn't wait for his reply, I just grasped my coat and walked out of the room.

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