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"He. Is. Dead!"
"No! No, shut up I know what I saw! I know-" Brian took in a hissing breath between his clenched teeth. "I know Rog. I was there- I- I went to his funeral too. I am well aware." Not only was Freddie dead, but they had watched him die, watched him wither away, his strength and life leaving him until it was clear; death was inevitable and imminent.
Brian spoke far more softly than their previous shouting match, "I'm telling you what I saw. I saw Freddie." There were tears in both of their eyes. Maybe Roger was right, maybe the grief had made Brian lose his mind. At least he hadn't brought this up in front of Deaky. The death had hit that man unspeakably hard but- could they not say that it had hit all of them that hard?
They weren't coping. They were just barely being managed by their staff and family as they drifted along as shells. As though the ghost was not Freddie but them. How could they- anything? Wake up in the morning? Go on? Ever smile or laugh again?
The outpouring of grief from their fans and the world at large was the only solace, no matter what the motherfucking press said. It wasn't just for them at the sun was dead. They were all mourning together. Enough grief, Brian feared, to drown them all. Rain for forty days and forty nights. Only Brian wasn't one of the ones that would make it aboard. He would be left here as the water rose and the levees broke. A mercy he thought sometimes, compare to being on the arc and being the sole survivor that must carry on without everything they loved. For Freddie, his suffering has ended, but for them, it has only begun. They must live their whole wretched lives, and by God will they be long, without him. Never hear him laugh or see him smile again.
Fuck. Brian dabbed at his eyes. Roger fussily crossed his arm as he ignored their outpouring of emotion. They couldn't cry the whole day, again. "So are we saying... a ghost? Is that what we are saying? You and I?"
Brian shrugged. "I can only tell you want I saw."
"And did he," Roger struggled to question Brian, "Have a body? Speak to you? Did you just see him across the street?"
Brian hung his head. He knew exactly how foolish, illogical, far from his science, he sounded. Roger sighed as he came close to the guitarist and slung a comforting arm around him. This was difficult for them all. "He came to me. I just- He was there. I can't tell you want I saw. I wasn't dreaming, I wasn't asleep. He just... He was there. I think he talked to me but I'm not sure... that he didn't just form words in my mind so much as open his mouth and speak to me. But however I 'heard' him, he told me..." Brian turned into Roger's embrace, hugging the blond back, "He told me it was all going to be okay. Tough but okay, and he was sure we'd be lovely out there. Carrying on, and bringing his music, our music, to the world."
Roger didn't jerk away in disbelief. He didn't call Brian a loon or have him committed. He loved him and trusted him. If Brian had gotten this message, this message of love and comfort from Freddie, who was Roger to deny him such a beautiful lie? But maybe Roger was being too pessimistic, how many cultures had myths and legends of people coming back from the dead, or of spirits and ghosts? Maybe it was real and true. He only wished he could have gotten that message himself, but he understood in a sense that Brian needed it more. Even if it was nothing they did not already know, something Freddie had already told them and related to them in his living.
"That sounds lovely," And now Roger was tearing up but he did nothing to stop it. They clung to each other and cried. Even if Freddie was a ghost now, he wasn't coming back to them. They could never go back to how things were before. The very thought dragged a sob from his mouth. And then they were both crying openly, loudly. It didn't feel cathartic, like the lancing of a boil, it felt agonizing like the sun would never rise again and hope didn't exist for them anymore. They lived only in a world of endless grey and sorrow.
They cried and cried until they were exhausted, then they spoke of all that they would miss, of all that they had loved most about him, turning all these memories of joy into ones of anguish because they were tainted now by his death.
Roger's crying had died down into sniffles, he felt too exhausted for more, his throat too dry to speak anymore, as his eyes were puffy and swollen. He knew now from experience that they would hurt when he woke up. They would hurt from crying this much but it was such a little ache compare to the one in his soul. Brian too had quieted down as they still clung to each other. It felt like they were all they had sometimes. Somedays it felt like Brian could not go on, and others day like Deaky couldn't, but Roger refused. He was never going to let go, and he would single-handedly hold them together if that was needed.
"You're doing so well, I know how hard this is for you."
Instantly Roger was awake. That was Freddie. Freddie was before him, smiling, casually and well- healthy in body. His bright, healthy face smiling softly at him. "I love you but you know that. I just wanted to tell you, if it's too much, if being in the band, anything, you don't have to keep on. I was giving you my permission because I know this band belongs to all of us, you don't have to stop, but you don't have to keep going if it's too hard either. I don't-" Freddie bit his lip endearingly as he always did and Roger felt- warmed. He clung to the slumbering Brian as his soul felt lightened. Freddie smiled and his dark eyes seemed to drag Roger into them, this was the friend he had loved all those years and he was still just as lovely as ever. "I want you to be happy darling, no matter what that means," Freddie reached out with a hand to tenderly cup Roger's face.
Roger nodded, nuzzling into his palm as his hand reached up to cling to Freddie's wrist. He didn't want him to go but he... he could tell that Freddie's time was coming to an end. He had said his peace and now he was off. Good. Freddie shouldn't have to linger, be an unhappy, restless spirit. He deserved a peaceful end, even if it had to been an awful end.
And just like that Freddie was gone.
Roger stood up, careful to put Brian down. He was very much awake himself. He walked about, pinching his arm. He went to the bathroom, closed the door and flicked on the lights. It was a little sharp but nothing like if he had actually been sleeping all that time. He gently cupped water over his face but he... he didn't feel like that was a dream. He felt just as awake now as when Freddie had spoken to him. Had that really been Freddie? Roger was not sure, and part of him refused to believe in the supernatural. But when he thought on it, on what he had just experience he felt... at peace.