Chapter Text
Freddie awoke with a groan, twisting his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. It was still early, not even 7am, and yet he would rather get up than have to spend more time thinking about everything that happened, and everything that was going to happen. He blinked again and sighed, sitting himself us slowly whilst rubbing his eyes. He supposed he would check on his younger siblings before proceeding with breakfast.
His stomach twisted at the thought. Okay maybe just coffee.
To start the day without knowing what to do exactly was definitely a first for Freddie. He always had things on his mind that would end in him writing a song, or draw something from inspiration. But now he was evidently lost. He couldn’t simply go back to his old ways and ignore what had gone on. His grief was still threatening to bubble over but he knew he couldn’t dwell on it. He was the big brother after all. His whole life, he had been taught to put his own worries and thoughts aside if it meant he could help his brothers. And now it seemed they needed him now more than ever, but he also needed them just as much.
He knew that today he would have to go back home. He hadn’t been there in over a month, and to go back under these circumstances made going home sound daunting, not welcoming. He couldn’t let Roger and John stay here with no clothes and no bed, so it was only fair to give them as much of their life back as they possibly could after most of it being ripped away. At least he and Brian still had their flat; Brian had his astronomy books and Freddie had his wardrobe, but they would now have to make way for their brother’s stuff as well. Freddie was glad that Brian and him had saved their money and bought quite a big flat. They may not have enough for food sometimes, but at least they had a comfortable place to go to after long days at work and university.
He would have to discuss with his brothers who was going to share a room with who. Luckily, their rooms were spacious enough to fit another bed in there, but they would probably have to think about things such as it not being a good idea for Brian and Roger to share a room unless they wanted an argument every week. Although they were all close, Brian and Roger could clash sometimes. When they were kids, it would usually end in screaming matches with doors slamming, glad they were able to have a room each instead of sharing.
Freddie slipped a jumper over his head, cursing the cold weather and the fact they hadn’t paid the gas bill yet, before moving across the corridor to Brian’s room.
Surprisingly, Brian was still asleep, his head pressed against his pillow as light snores left his lips. Brian had always been an early awakener, the morning person that was ever annoying when Freddie had woken up with many hangovers, or when scolding his older brother for not getting up early enough.
Freddie smiled at the sight and shut the door again quietly, before shuffling down the stairs towards the living room.
He smiled slightly as he entered the room, his gaze landing on the crumpled covers on the sofa bed, John and Roger asleep underneath. He turned for the kitchen but hesitated, an odd feeling swirling in his stomach. After turning back to look at the bed, he noticed only one body there, evidently John, who’s brunette hair was peaking out from under the duvet. No Roger.
Panic was the first thing to settle in Freddie’s chest, and the breath flew out of him, a hand flying to his chest as he tried to think of a good explanation for why Roger was out of bed. Maybe he was in the bathroom or the kitchen? Freddie hadn’t heard the front door open or close, so he knew Roger had to be there somewhere.
With one last glance to John, Freddie ran to the bathroom, disappointed to see no Roger, and the panic began to rise again, settling as a weight on his chest. Looking around, he found no cause for concern though. He quickly made his way to the kitchen and there was still no sign of him. It was only when his eyes caught a flash of blonde from out the window did he realise maybe Roger had gone outside. So he looked out the window again.
In the garden was Roger, his back to the house as he sat cross legged, hands picking at the green beneath him. Freddie sighed and slipped some shoes on before slowly opening the door, shivering slightly at the cold air that hit him upon leaving the confines of the house.
He quietly walked over, pulling the jumper tighter around his body as the wind bit at his skin. He slowly sunk beside the blonde, mimicking his position on the grass before inspecting him closer.
Roger wasn’t wearing a jacket, his arms exposed to the harsh cold that encased them as winter dragged on, as well as his bare feet that were slightly covered by the longer pyjama bottoms.
Roger hadn’t lifted his head; hadn’t even acknowledged Freddie was there. Just continued to fiddle with the tufts of grass that hadn’t withered in the frigid British weather.
“Rog?” Freddie asked tentatively, eyeing the boy with a hint of sadness. Freddie didn’t know why his brother had uncharacteristically gone into the garden when it was freezing at 7am, but it wasn’t looking as if Roger had changed over night liked Freddie had hoped. Unrealistically hoped. He knew that whatever had happened had caused psychological damage to both of his youngest brothers, and the question still stood: what the hell happened in that accident?
When the blonde didn’t respond, Freddie scooted a little bit closer so that their knees bumped together.
“Rog?” Freddie tried again.
“Yeah?”
Freddie startled at the sound of the broken voice that responded, and his eyebrows raised in surprise at the sound that had been missing for nearly two days. His mouth opened and closed a few times, the shock making his mind blank until he finally settled on a question.
“You okay?” Freddie asked quietly, aware that Roger still hadn’t lifted his head or looked at him, even though he had spoken.
“Fine. You can go back in Fred,” Roger replied quietly, his voice gravelly from not being used, yet sounding more like a whimper, and it broke Freddie’s heart to hear him like that.
The eldest sighed, placing his hand on Roger’s knee, only for it to be brushed off with a hand as the blonde moved away.
“I said I’m fine Freddie,” Roger snapped. “Go away.”
The words were said through gritted teeth, and Freddie didn’t know if it was because he was angry or if he was trying to keep his tears in check. Roger had never been a crier. In their entire childhood, Freddie could only remember a few times when he had cried.
For example, one time, when Roger was fourteen and Brian was seventeen, the two of them went on a camping trip together. Just the two of them because they wouldn’t stop arguing and their mum said that they had to go away for a couple of days so they could get along. The first day went fine, and it wasn’t until the night when Brian was woken by Roger did he realise something was wrong. Roger was having a night terror, thrashing around in his sleeping bag as he screamed, and Brian sat there helplessly, unknowing what to do. They came back the next day, and Freddie watched as Roger was cradled in his mum’s arms as he sobbed, whilst he himself held a frightened Brian.
And then, obviously the night after the accident.
But everything else that would’ve made anyone cry, Roger just withdrew into himself and shrugged off any help he was being offered.
Which was what was happening now. And Freddie didn’t have his parents this time to help get through to Roger, because right now, what he was doing wasn’t healthy. And Freddie could see that it was affecting all of them as well.
Still, Freddie would accept the small victory of Roger talking for now, as that was a huge stepping stone on its own.
It was only now that Freddie realised that there was no crutches in sight which meant Roger had walked, or rather limped, out here without them. He cursed silently, hoping that the stitches hadn’t torn.
“Come back in. I’ll make you a cup of tea and redress your leg before the others wake up,” Freddie offered, a small smile gracing his face as he waited for Roger to respond.
There was a moment before Roger hesitantly nodded, and Freddie let out a breath of relief. He was glad he was able to get him out of the cold, as he didn’t want him getting sick on top of everything else.
Freddie stood up and offered a hand out to the smaller man, who after a minute, grabbed it so that he was able to stand up with most of his weight on his good leg.
Roger went ahead, limping slowly towards the house before Freddie came up behind him and placed a hand around his waist, taking the blonde’s weight of his leg.
“Fred,” Roger started to protest but Freddie stopped him, hugging him closer to his side.
“You forgot your crutches,” Freddie told him, glad that Roger just gave a grunt in response instead of pushing him away.
He still hadn’t looked at Freddie, his blue eyes practically glued to the floor, which only made Freddie’s concern go up, even if there had been a breakthrough verbally. But this was how Roger dealt.
He would say he’s fine, push everything down until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer, and then it would all come out at once in a huge explosion, manifesting itself into screams and anger and locking himself in his bedroom. There was one time, when Roger was about fifteen, where their dad had to restrain the blonde when he was sobbing in the kitchen, threatening everyone to stay away from him with a butter knife. He saw himself as a threat, and it was only when their dad wrapped his arms around him, securing him against his chest did he break and he wailed like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Which was what it felt like for Freddie and the other two. The three of them camped in Freddie’s room that night, unsure of what was happening. They were teenagers, and no one had taught them how to deal with any of this. They all wept together, clinging onto each other tightly, especially when the thought of what would happen to Roger rattled around in Freddie’s head. Would he be sent away? Maybe to a hospital where they treated this kind of thing? Freddie had heard many horror stories from those kind of places, and prayed that his younger brother wouldn’t have to go to a place like that.
Fortunately, Roger was never sent away. Their parents had no intention to, and instead hired a private paediatric psychiatrist who helped Roger deal with his feelings better, even if it meant hiding them. That same psychiatrist helped Brian when depression took him over at the age of eighteen, and helped him with methods of how to deal with his thoughts. And it helped. Both of them were in a lot better place now than they were all the way back then. But everything has changed now. There is no back up plan of a parent. But at least everyone was well experienced enough to know how to help each other.
He hoped.
Because not only would they have to help Roger, Brian was probably the next to go down, as Freddie had already glimpsed at him spiralling into a depressive episode ever since the night at the hospital. He knew Brian wasn’t sleeping properly; he could hear him crying in the night.
And the whole emotional factor was taking a huge toll on John, losing a parent so young, that Freddie would have to hold him up too. The oldest was just afraid that there would be no one to catch him if he couldn’t hold them up any longer.
When they got inside and reached the kitchen table, Freddie helped Roger lower down on a chair before retreating to the living room to get the comfiest thing he could find. He came back into the kitchen with a fluffy blanket, mentally praising himself for going against Brian’s ‘advice’ and buying the thing a couple weeks back, only to find Roger with his head in his hands, rubbing the side of his head gently. Freddie draped the blanket over the younger man’s shoulders then pulled out a chair to sit opposite.
“Does your leg hurt?” Freddie asked with a frown when Roger still hadn’t looked up.
“No,” Roger huffed, taking his hands away from his head to stare at them instead.
Freddie just sighed and got up from his chair, looking through the cabinets for the items he was looking for.
He approached Roger again and opened his hand, placing three different tablets in the palm of it. Roger looked up at him curiously, and Freddie gave a gentle smile back, offering a glass of water with his other hand.
As he watched the blonde take the medication, Freddie realised why Roger hadn’t want to look up at him. His eyes were bloodshot, which contrasted immensely with the pale shade of his face, apart from the road rash that covered different parts of his cheek and the stark white of the butterfly bandages on a few of the deeper cuts. The dark circles under his eyes looked more like bruises, and Freddie instantly wanted to wrap the boy in a tight hug.
Roger sat the glass on the table when he was finished, and the older sibling took that as his cue to get the bandages and disinfectant ready to change Roger’s dressing. Freddie guessed that if Roger could do it himself, he would’ve done it out of sight of all his brothers, so he wouldn’t appear ‘weak’, which was why Freddie suggested to do it before Brian and John woke up. And it wasn’t anything Freddie couldn’t handle, he honestly didn’t mind, but he guessed Roger didn’t see it that way.
After gathering everything and setting it neatly on the table, Freddie sat back in the chair opposite Roger and gestured for the other man to set his injured leg on the chair next to Freddie.
Roger’s eyes flicked to Freddie and then back on the chair before lifting his leg up with a grunt.
Freddie just offered an apologetic smile as a response.
He carefully unwound the bandages, just like the nurse did, and removed them completely from Roger’s leg. Roger squirmed slightly in his seat. Freddie didn’t know whether it was because of the pain or the sight of it.
Freddie frowned slightly and looked a little closer at the stitches, seeing how it had become an angry red colour around the stitches. He bit his lip and glanced up at Roger, glad that the blonde was looking away and couldn’t see the worry dancing along his face. Freddie was unsure of what to do. It didn’t look too bad, and so hoped the alcohol swab would kill off any sign of infection because he didn’t want to be dragging Roger off to a hospital after he had just come from one.
With one more worried glance, Freddie thoroughly cleaned the wound, mumbling a small apology when Roger hissed and held his breath until Freddie was done.
“Done,” Freddie announced when he had re-wrapped Roger’s leg, noticing the way Roger’s eyes lingered on him as if he was going to say something, however there was no reply and so Freddie just gave a small smile and proceeded to put away everything he had used.
After closing the final cupboard, the house was eerily silent, and Freddie didn’t know how to break it.
“Thank you,” was mumbled from behind him, and he turned to have the blonde man engulf him in a hug, pressing himself tightly to his older brother to get the comfort he so desperately needed. Freddie, although surprised, wrapped his arms around him and slowly rubbed his back, praying that no one else woke up. Because if they did, he could guarantee that Roger would immediately pull away and the comfort for both of them would be lost.
Luckily, the house stayed silent.
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Brian and John woke up a few hours later, surprised to see the other two already up. Freddie was making tea, whereas Roger was absent-mindedly watching the tv on the chair opposite the couch where John had been sleeping, his leg propped up on the arm of the chair. They both offered small smiles, which were returned by both John and Brian, before they parted ways; Brian went to help Freddie in the kitchen, and John set the couch back up so it was no longer a sofa-bed.
“How are you today Fred?” Brian asked quietly as he approached the kitchen, watching as the older man sighed, placing the kettle back on the stove.
“I mean, I’m fine I think. I definitely could be better but I’ve been worse,” Freddie replied, dejection prominent in his voice. “What about you?”
“I don’t know,” Brian sighed, running a hand through his curls.
“We’ll be okay Bri. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s going to be rough, but we will make it through this,” Freddie told him, smiling slightly before offering his arms out for Brian.
Brian took the offer gladly and hugged his older brother, and it reminded Freddie of him as a child. Brian always went to Freddie when he was upset, and if Brian wasn’t so tall, Freddie could imagine himself back in that situation. Only, then he would hand him to his mother so she could help him. The thought made his mood sour slightly, practically shouting in his head for reminding himself that they were gone. He knew it was true, and yet a small part of him still refused to believe it.
When they pulled away, Brian gently squeezed Freddie’s arm before helping him carry in the teas Freddie had been making.
Roger was still in the same place, but John had settled himself on the sofa, both of them silently watching the tv. The two older brothers placed the drinks on the coffee table before sitting either side of John on the sofa.
“You alright John?” Brian asked as he sat down.
“I’m okay. My arm hurts a little though,” he replied, gesturing to his arm that was in a cast.
“I’ll go get your painkillers.”
“Thank you Brian,” John said, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Do you need any medication Rog?” Brian asked as he walked past.
“No thank you,” came the mumbled response. Brian actually stopped walking to stare at the back of Roger’s head like he’d just announced the world was ending. He flicked his eyes to John, who was mimicking the same expression, then to Freddie who just shrugged in response.
“Err Fred, I don’t know where the meds are” Brian said, desperately trying to keep his voice steady.
Freddie understood immediately, seeing the uncertain look lingering in Brian’s eyes. He patted John’s knee softly before moving into the kitchen with Brian.
“When the fuck did he start talking?” Brian asked, keeping his voice low so it wasn’t heard by the two in the next room.
“This morning. I found him in the garden at like six o’clock, and he’s mostly acting like he’s fine, even though I know full well he isn’t. Other than a hug, he hasn’t shown any vulnerability. The walls he had let down in his silence have built back up, and I think it’s even harder now to get through to him,” Freddie replied with a sigh, his voice quiet.
“But he doesn’t look completely with it. I didn’t even think there was anything different about him other than the fact that he spoke.”
“That’s because he isn’t different. He hasn’t changed over night. He’s just put himself in full defence mode.”
“Okay,” Brian replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So what do we do?”
Freddie had his eyes fixed on the table, but they snapped up to meet Brian’s eyes. “Nothing.”
“But-”
“If he gets worse, it’s out of our hands. We may have to get him to go back to therapy. But other than that, for the time being, I don’t think there is anything that we can do. Just… be patient I guess,” Freddie told him.
Brian didn’t say anything, but nodded with conformation that told Freddie that the conversation was finished. Brian got John’s medication, and they both made their way back into the living room, sitting on the seats they sat on before. Both Roger and John were still watching the daytime tv silently, and John only broke out of his daze when Brian nudged him, placing the pills in his hand. John mumbled a small thanks before downing the tablets with his tea.
They were all plunged into silence, the tv droning on in the background as all four minds became preoccupied with different thoughts and worries, and soon the silence became deafening.
The phone rang and Brian jumped at the sound, thankful when Freddie got up to answer it.
Freddie took a breath and, with shaky fingers, took the phone off the hook.
“Hello. Is this Mr Deacon?”
“Err yeah,” Freddie replied, confusion knitting his eyebrows together.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of your parents but there seems to be no answer. John and Roger haven’t been in college for three days, and we just wanted to check everything was okay,” the woman’s voice sounding shrill over the phone. Freddie couldn’t tell if it was because she was generally concerned or she was a little sceptical. He glanced over his shoulder to see two pairs of eyes on him, eyebrows up as if asking what was happening. He didn’t know how to answer their gesture, so turned back to the phone.
“There was an accident on Tuesday, and unfortunately our parents have… they’ve passed.”
Freddie’s voice was wobbly and ended in more of a whisper.
The woman on the phone made a sound that he guessed was either shock or upset.
“I am now John’s legal guardian so both him and Roger are living with me. But we live quite far away.”
“I am so sorry for your loss. But if it makes things easier, I can send both the boys’ information to the college closest to you,” the woman replied, her voice friendly, and Freddie could almost cry at the offer. That would make it a lot easier, as the college was right near the universities.
“That would be wonderful dear,” Freddie beamed before proceeding to give her the information about which college would be easier to get to.
“Could you also let the new college know that they won’t be in for a few weeks.”
“Of course, only I hate to be annoying but they can only have two weeks off otherwise they’ll be too behind to carry on with their A-levels.”
Freddie sighed. “Okay.”
They exchanged pleasantries then the eldest brother hung up the phone, turning to find that there was now three pairs of eyes staring at him. John and Brian were looking at him as if to say ‘well?’, but Roger looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed though obviously just as confused as the other two.
“That was the college,” Freddie announced. “They were wondering what had happened, so I explained and they have said they are going to transfer Roger and John to the college nearer to us.”
John’s eyes went wide. “What?”
Freddie looked at him sympathetically, knowing how much this change was going to be hard for John. Whenever John would start a school year, his anxiety would be through the roof, and to start at a new college nearly halfway through the school year was going to be extremely hard.
“It’ll be fine John. You’ve only got until your exams and then you’ll be finished anyway.”
John just nodded before taking his tea off the coffee table and taking a sip, holding it shakily in one hand, the other supporting it from underneath gently.
They all went back into silence, the tv still going as they vaguely watched it. As they sat there, Freddie’s previous thoughts from that morning came to his mind and he cleared his throat, clutching his cup tighter.
“John, Roger. You both need clothes… And somewhere to sleep. So I’ve decided that one of us needs to go back and get your things,” Freddie announced quietly, his voice shaky even with the fake confidence he was trying to project.
“I don’t mind going Fred,” Brian spoke up, earning a small smile from his older brother.
“I can go too; show you where everything is because I don’t suppose you know where our stuff is,” John said, lowering his head slightly as if they were going to refuse his offer.
“You sure John?” Freddie asked, concern prominent in his voice.
“Yeah I’m sure. I don’t want Brian bringing the wrong stuff,” he replied with a slight laugh, making the other two chuckle.
“What about you Rog?”
“No.”
“You sure? You can pick out what you-”
“No.”
Freddie just nodded silently, accepting Roger’s answer. He guessed it must be hard to go back to the place he lived in, only he wouldn’t be living there anymore. He was surprised when John offered to go, but guessed the youngest sibling did have a point.
“I will stay here with Rog then, and you two can go together,” Freddie told them, receiving a nod as Brian and John stood up to get ready.
“I don’t need fucking babysitting,” was grumbled from the seat opposite.
“I know you don’t but I’d rather not leave you alone right now. You’ve only just come out of hospital.”
When he received no response, he concluded that the conversation was finished and so began cleaning away their cups, hoping that whatever happens they would get through it together.
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As they walked into the house, an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia swamped Brian, and he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as they walked through the hallways. Memories of his childhood filled his mind, it felt like he had never left.
As they walked into the living room, he noticed the half drank cup of teas and partially read newspaper splayed on the small table and he felt his breath hitch. Before he could dwell on it anymore, he felt something pulling on his arm. He turned to see a tearful John.
“C’mon Bri,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly as the emotions washed over him.
John tugged Brian’s hand so he was following him up the stairs towards their rooms. They first went into John’s room, where John started filling a backpack with his clothes and any items he might need like his college work, whilst Brian sat on the bed, fiddling with the edges of the bedsheets as if they were the most fascinating things he had ever seen.
“John.”
“Bri,” John half mumbled, more concentrated with making sure he had enough clothes to take with him.
“I can’t ever imagine what that must have been like. In that crash,” Brian murmured, his eyes now trained on his brother.
John paused, his hands half way through folding a t-shirt. He looked over his shoulder at Brian and sighed.
“I can’t remember much, I passed out and didn’t wake up until I was being transferred into the ambulance.”
A beat passed, and Brian was sure that John wasn’t going to elaborate before John dropped the shirt into the bag and slumped down next to Brian on his bed.
“It was so scary Bri,” he sniffled. “There was so much screaming and I was so confused and didn’t know what was going on. And now to find out… to find out they’re gone…”
John doubled over in sobs, every cry racking his body with tremors. Brian turned him so that he was crying against him, and so the older brother could hug him tighter.
“It’s okay John. It’s okay,” he whispered, tears of his own falling down his face and John gripped his shirt tighter.
Brian held him, rocking gently until John’s cries became mere whimpers and sniffles.
“Who was screaming John?”
"What?”
“You said there was screaming. Who was it?”
John pulled back and wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at Brian.
“Roger.”
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Brian and John drove back in Roger’s van. Both Roger and John’s beds just about squeezed in it, which was good because they didn’t want to be buying new beds; they could only just scrape together enough for rent.
The ride back was mostly in silence, other than the radio lowly playing, as Brian was still in a shock from what John had told him, and he wasn’t utterly sure how to process the information.
They pulled up back at the flat and unloaded the van, together carefully pulling out the dismantled beds from the back as well as John and Roger’s clothes and stuff. They were surprised when Freddie didn’t come out to help them, but suspected that there was something more important going on that he was handling, such as another important phone call.
When they managed to get everything into the flat, they were both met with shouting that was coming from down the hallway.
They dumped the stuff in the living room and walked to the source of the shouting, finding Freddie facing the closed door of his bedroom. Brian lifted an eyebrow at him, and Freddie shot him a pained expression before turning back to the door.
“Rog…”
“FUCK OFF.”
Freddie sighed, complying to Roger’s words and moved past his other two siblings until they were away from the door, in the living room.
“We can set John’s bed up in your room Bri, and I will just set up Roger’s when he comes out.”
“Is he okay?”
“According to him? Yes. Truthfully? No. We were just watching the tv when he just sprints into my room and locks it. It was a shit storm I wasn’t expecting, and I have no clue what happened, or why it happened. It’s all just very confusing,” he replied, his eyes wandering around the room until they landed on Roger’s discarded crutches. “And he forgot to use his fucking crutches.”
“Are you okay Fred?”
Freddie sniffled and looked at them dead on, and they could see how his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from crying. “I’m okay.”
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Once they’d set up John and Brian’s room, Brian began dinner. It was nothing special, just cheese on toast. Not only was it John’s favourite which would cheer him up a bit, they couldn’t really afford anything else at the minute.
They sat around the table, settling on small talk such as how John was doing at college and if he was enjoying it. Eventually, they heard a door open and close, followed by the sound of limping footsteps before the door to the kitchen creaked open.
Roger stood in the doorway, his hair dishevelled and his cheeks flushed pink, tears stains still evident along with his bloodshot eyes.
“Fred,” he whispered, shuffling slightly on his feet. “Fred I’m sorry.”
Freddie stood up, leaving his half-eaten toast on the plate and walked over to Roger, pulling him into a hug, careful of his leg.
“I’m so sorry Fred,” Roger mumbled into his shoulder.
“It’s okay Rog. You just scared me a little,” Freddie replied softy, rubbing a hand up and down the blonde’s back.
“I know I’m sorry.”
Freddie was still a bit confused, it was like Roger’s mood had flipped 360 in the space of a few hours.
“Brian has made you some cheese on toast if you want some.”
Roger nodded and followed Freddie back to the table, giving a grateful smile to Brian when he placed a plate of cheese on toast in front of him.
They all ate quickly, although Roger didn’t finish, before they went into Freddie’s room, soon to be also Roger’s room and set up the bed. Roger couldn’t help, and after being scolded by all three of his brothers for trying to help, he gave up and flopped down on Freddie’s bed, grimacing slightly when his leg hit the bed.
When they finished they split off into their respectable rooms, all too drained to stay up any longer.
Brian helped John change his top over his cast, then they mumbled a goodnight before the light was turned off and they were in their beds.
“Brian?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Brian frowned and sat up in the dark, his eyes making out John’s form that was facing him.
“What for?”
“You’ve helped us all so much these last few days, and I just don’t know what I’d do without you. Without any of you. You and Freddie have made sure that I’m okay, and you’re both trying your best to help Roger, and I just thought you ought to know how grateful I am,” John whispered, sitting up so he could see Brian properly.
“I’m your brother John. That’s what brothers do.”
“I just wish I could do the same for you,” John mumbled.
“John, you’ve got enough to deal with without all of our problems piled on top. Me and Fred are okay, we have each other, and we have you and Roger. You two are the youngest, you have always been the youngest, and so it’s not a knew thing for us to be looking after you. We’re just needed more than we were before. But honestly we don’t mind. You can ask Fred if you don’t believe me,” Brian replied, offering John a smile, who gave one back, in the darkness.
Brian went to sleep that night hoping that whatever happens, they would get through it together.
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Freddie awoke abruptly, confused to why he had woken in the middle of the night. A whimper from across the room made his head snap to the other bed, and he frowned.
It was only when a scream was ripped from Roger’s throat did Freddie realise the blonde was having a night terror. He scrambled out of bed, debating on whether to comfort him back to sleep or wake him up, but when a loud sob followed, he decided it was best not to wake him. He sat on the bed and lifted Roger’s form so that Freddie was hugging him. And he held him tight, whispering comforting words in his ear as he gently rocked him.
The door opened, and Freddie saw Brian and John, both freshly awoken and very confused. Freddie just shook his head before mouthing ‘I’ve got this’. Brian immediately understood and ushered himself and John back out of the room.
Eventually the sobbing turned into more of a snivel, and then Roger went quiet. Freddie tilted his head down and saw that Roger was still asleep, but it had seemed that his night terror was over.
Freddie let out a breath and placed Roger back into his bed before getting back into his own. He dreaded for this to happen again, and hoped it was a one time thing; because it had only been three days since the trauma.
He closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn’t have to wake up to screaming again.
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The funeral was three days later. Their parents hadn’t left them enough for anything fancy, and because there was just them four that would attend, the service was very small.
The coffins were closed, none of them wanting to see the faces of their dead parents.
The morning was quiet, and Freddie had bought them a suit each out of his wages. They were waiting by the door, Freddie adjusting John’s tie as Brian combed his hair in the mirror. They were waiting for Roger, who was still in his room. They guessed he was upset and didn’t want to intrude if he was crying. However, after a while had passed, they grew increasingly concerned. Brian was just about to see if he was okay when they heard the tell tale sign of crutches repetitively hitting the floor.
Roger walked into the hall, and other than his eyes being red, he looked fine.
They made their way out of the flat and to the car, Roger and John trailing behind.
With closer inspection, John realised that Roger was actually a sickly shade of pale and was shaking slightly. He frowned.
“Hey Rog, you okay? You don’t look very well?”
“I’m fine,” came the gruff response. John just nodded, but took note to mention it to either Freddie or Brian.
When they got to the funeral, they all entered orderly, smiling slightly at the flowers Freddie had picked out. They were their mum’s favourite.
They sat down; Roger on the end so he could put his crutches next to him.
It was only a short ceremony Freddie had picked out, as that’s all they could afford, but it was beautiful. That was until about half way through when Roger promptly stood up, attracting the eyes of the other three boys and the ceremony holder, before running straight out.
Freddie’s first thought was ‘he forgot the fucking crutches again,’ and that it was a little selfish to run out of a funeral, but after mulling over what John had told him about Roger looking ill, he decided hat Roger must have had a good reason to leave, as he was a polite man, and it was unlike him to do such a thing. After the ceremony was over, they wiped their tears and had a small group hug, before they left, Brian picking up Roger’s crutches on his way out.
They found Roger hunched against the outside wall, a puddle of vomit on the ground next to him.
“Rog?” Freddie asked tentatively, stepping forward so he was in front of his younger brother.
“I’m sorry,” Roger choked out, his head hanging as he shook with every cry. He sounded so broken that the other three could actually hear their hearts shatter at the sound. “I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t stay in there.”
“That’s okay. It’s okay Roger,” Brian mumbled, stepping forward to offer Roger his crutches.
Roger looked up at him with wide eyes, tears still falling from his eyes. It became very noticeable that he had gone very pale, and his hair was stuck to his face like he was sweating, however, Brian’s brain supplied it was the middle of winter. He shouldn't be hot.
“Roger are you feeling okay,” he questioned, seeing how both John and Freddie turned to face Roger, also expecting an answer.
Instead of replying, Roger stepped forward and reached for his crutches. Only, as soon as his foot hit the floor, his eyes rolled back and if it wasn’t for Freddie seeing what was happening and catching him, he would be in a pile on the floor.
“Shit,” Freddie practically screamed, frantically looking for anyone that could help.
“Brian go and find someone. I think he needs to go to hospital,” Freddie told him, receiving a nod before Brian was legging it to go and find someone.
Freddie and John gently placed Roger so he was lying on his back on the floor, before sitting next to him so they could hear his breathing pattern.
“Is he going to be okay Freddie?” John asked, the question coming out more of a whimper. Freddie didn’t know if he meant physically or mentally, but he didn’t have an answer to either. He had no clue what was wrong with Roger; he just hoped it was nothing serious.
“I don’t know John. I really don’t know.”