Work Text:
“Roger,” Brian said, no louder than a whisper.
“Roger,” he repeated louder this time, his voice raw. He was left both times with no response.
Brian turned his head slowly. Blonde hair was draped across the dashboard, Roger tilted forward so that his head rested on the steering wheel.
“Oh god,” Brian gasped, taking in the sight of his friend. He managed to unbuckle his seatbelt and turn to face Roger head on. He shakily moved his hand to the drummer’s neck, praying that there was a heartbeat.
He pressed his fingers onto the skin and waited. When a second past of nothing, Brian’s heart leapt into his throat.
No. Roger can’t be dead.
A couple more seconds past before he felt a beat. He let out a deep breath. He moved shaky fingers to the blonde’s chest in order to move him, but was met with a sticky substance. He froze and brought his fingers to his eyes, squinting slightly.
Blood.
He took in the full sight of Roger and didn’t know if he should move him or not. Not only would it risk causing more damage to Roger, but it could be the last move that would send the car tumbling off the edge of the cliff. So no. He wouldn’t move him. He couldn’t risk it.
As the full realisation of the situation hit Brian, panic started to settle in his mind. How would they get out?
It didn’t look like there’d be a phone on a cliff side, which meant Brian would have to climb up to the road and get someone to pull over. He looked around and realised the only way he could save Roger would be to find help. He didn’t know the extent of Roger’s injuries. He didn’t know how long Roger had left.
They were tilting dangerously halfway down the cliff. They weren’t so far down that Brian couldn’t reach the top, but it would mean actually climbing out of the car. He didn’t know if the car would hold up.
He decided to try anyway. He couldn’t rely on anyone else to save them when they were hidden down the side of a cliff.
His door was jammed shut but the window was shattered, so he desperately climbed through it, the glass crunching beneath his form as he struggled out. He was nearly almost all the way out of the car when there was a loud noise and the car started teetering.
Brian held still. If the car dropped now, not only would it land with Roger’s side on the ground, it would take Brian with it, who still had one leg in the car.
He waited with baited breath for the car to stop moving before he carefully removed his leg. The car held still and he let out a breath.
He steadily climbed up the cliff, biting his lip as his fingers dug into the sharp rocks. He nearly gave up, his strength nearly giving out before he thought of what would happen if he didn’t do this. A bolt of adrenaline shot through him, and he made his way up to the top of the cliff.
He glanced along the road, panting as he tried to catch his breath. It was late, which meant that there weren’t many cars around at this time. He took note of his surroundings before stumbling up the road, looking for any signs of people.
He walked the stretch of road before he came across a car. He flagged it down, darting in the road and waving his arms.
The couple in the car were very concerned and offered to drive him to the nearest hospital. He refused.
“I can’t. My friend’s still trapped in the car.”
They offered their phone immediately. He called an ambulance and the fire brigade before ringing Freddie.
“Hello?”
“Freddie you need to meet me at the hospital. There’s been a crash.”
“Wait what? Are you okay? What about Roger? Are any of you injured?” Brian could hear how panicked Freddie sounded through the phone.
“Fred. I need you to listen to me. I will meet you at the hospital.”
“Okay,” came the small reply before Brian hung up, thanking the couple who drove off hesitantly.
Brian trekked back to the cliff side, praying the car was still in the same place and it hadn’t fallen.
Once he arrived, he could hear sirens in the distance. He looked over the edge and saw the car in exactly the same place. He sighed deeply.
Everything then passed in a blur. He was bundled into the back of an ambulance where they treated his wounds. He didn’t even realise he was injured before he saw the paramedics bandaging the cuts all over his body.
From the back of the ambulance, he watched as the fire brigade freed Roger from the car, carefully putting him on a stretcher, before carrying up to the top of the cliff.
The paramedics were immediately assessing him. An oxygen mask was placed over his face, and his shirt was ripped open as they looked for the cause of the bleeding. Brian thought he would pass out from the sight. Roger was loaded into the ambulance, and they tried to make Brian go in the other but he was adamant not to leave Roger. Eventually they let him stay, as long as he kept out of the way.
As the ambulance drove, he watched as the paramedics tried to clean up the blood from Roger’s chest. There was so much. As soon as it was decently cleaned, Brian could see what had caused it.
There was a large piece of glass lodged in Roger’s chest.
He gulped, nausea swirling in his stomach. His eyes started to blur and his head fogged, and before he knew it they were at the hospital.
Roger was wheeled away in a rush. Brian heard something about “surgery” and “not a lot of time.” Brian followed the paramedic and was seen by a doctor who stitched the deepest cuts. They said other than that he was okay so he stayed in the waiting room.
About ten minutes past before Freddie and John arrived, both immediately engulfing Brian in a hug. Brian didn’t realise he was crying until they pulled away and Freddie wiped the tears with his thumb.
“Sit darling. What happened?”
Brian gulped as he sat between his two best friends.
“We w-were in the car, R-Roger driving, when we saw this animal. I-I’m not sure what it was, but Roger swerved and we f-fell down the side of the cliff,” Brian sniffled, his eyes filling with tears again.
“Oh my god how come you’re not more injured?” John asked, concern lacing his voice.
“It landed on Roger’s side,” came the barely audible mumble.
“What about him? Where is he?”
“I-i think he’s in surgery. There was g-glass in his chest.” He turned his head to look at both of them before bursting into tears, muffling his sobs as he put his head in his hands.
“Oh god you should have seen him. He was so pale. And there was s-so much blood. I though he was d-dead,” he stuttered. The other two brought him in close and let him sob. John ran a hand through his curls whilst Freddie rubbed soft circles on his back.
A few hours past in the waiting area, all three of them becoming quite irritable about the lack of communication from the doctors. They knew nothing. Was Roger even alive?
Fortunately, the door opened and a doctor stepped through.
“Family of Roger Taylor.”
The three bandmates jumped up at once and followed the doctor out of the waiting room, until they stood outside another room.
“Mr Taylor is alive,” the doctor stated, earning multiple sighs of relief.
“The glass missed his vital organs, however two of his ribs were broken quite badly, which meant that one of his lungs were punctured. We were able to re-inflate it, but until he wakes up or we are sure he is breathing on his own, he has a ventilator. He has also broken his left ankle, but other than that, he will be fine.”
“Can we see him?” John asked.
“Sure, he’s just through there,” the doctor said, gesturing to the door next to them.
They thanked the doctor and entered the room. The tears were not kept in for long, and the room found all of them crying.
Brian was quick to sit beside the bed, hand running through the blonde hair with a choked sob. Freddie and John sat next to him. Freddie places a hand on Brian’s leg.
“He’ll be fine Bri. They said he’ll be okay.”
“But what happens if something goes wrong, or he doesn’t wake up?” Brian sniffled. “What happens if he does wake up but can’t breath on his own?”
“Brian no one has the answers for something that may be possible but not happening,” John stated. “I know it’s hard seeing him like this. Believe me, I know. But we have to be strong.”
Brian nodded and wiped his tears.
———————
They sat for a long time. The intubation tube was taken out after a few hours when Roger proved to be breathing on his own. A total of 7 hours passed before there was any movement from the blonde man in the bed. Brian was immediately up and hovering over Roger as his eyes moved restlessly under his eyelids.
“Rog?”
There was no reply. Brian glanced to Freddie and John who gave him an encouraging nod to carry on.
“Rog can you hear me?” Brian asked, trying to coax Roger back into consciousness. There was a few quiet mumbles in response and Brian instantly lit up.
“Rog try again. I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Oww.”
Brian nearly cried, but laughter bubbled out of his mouth at Roger’s response.
The blonde eventually peeled his eyes open and smiled as he saw his friends.
“Hey Rog,” Freddie said as he and John got closer to the bed.
“Hey,” Roger replied, his voice raspy.
Brian quickly got him a drink and Roger gratefully sipped it.
“How are you feeling?” John asked.
“Crappy,” Roger smirked.
They laughed. Brian was glad Roger hadn’t lost his sense of humour. He knew that Roger had a long recovery ahead, but he will be there for him every step of the way. He’d be damned if he let his best friend go through it alone.