Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 16

That evening, when visiting hours were almost up and Bernie was sitting slightly more comfortably in her own clothes, her own pillow propped up behind her and a few of her own belongings surrounding her, she had the most unlikely visitor. Tap tap tap went the person's shoes rhythmically and Bernie didn't see who it was until she opened her eyes, when they were at her bedside.

Peeling her eyes open from her light doze, Bernie looked at the floor and saw a pair of light denim jeans flared over a pair of scuffed black boots that looked like they used to be shiny. Then a gruff voice rumbled out of his mouth: "Hello, Bernie." Rubbing her eyes and pushing her glasses onto her face (which miraculously didn't break when she fell) Bernie tilted her head up to catch sight of her visitor. When she saw who it was, her nose crinkled and she wished he hadn't come. What was worse, was that he was holding a large bunch of assorted flowers in white, pink, red and orange. Unfortunately, her favourite colours.

"What the devil did you bring flowers for, Roger?" Bernie hissed quietly, time was getting on a bit now, some of the older patients were settling to sleep and nurses who walked past gave Roger a snide look.

"Because look at them!" He announced cheerfully, moving her box of tissues aside to make way for them on her bedside table. How had he even brought a plain white vase with him?

"...I can see. Why?"

"So that bastard landlord of yours can see that your loving boyfriend cares about you so much. And also Brian told me you liked orange and red."

The sentiment made the sides of Bernie's mouth quiver unwillingly upwards. It was certainly sweet of Roger to come and visit her at all, let alone bring her flowers both to follow along with their plan and because he felt like it. The tulips sat in the vase cheerily, mostly in full bloom bar a couple of buds. They certainly were pretty and something nice to look at when her eyes got bored - which was a lot. There weren't many cute doctors on this ward, much to Bernie's distaste. "Hang on...Holden won't come and visit me, and in the unlikely event that he does, how will he know these are from you?" Bernie raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Roger licked his top lip slyly, as if he had been waiting to answer this question for a while and sat on the edge of Bernie's bed, completely ignoring the chair at her bedside. With her left leg, she pretended to shove him off, making Roger laugh and point at her leg in a "isn't-this-supposed-to-be-broken?" way. "I'll show you in a minute. Answer my question, Taylor."

"Right, okay," he resumed his seat on the edge of the bed and this time Bernie didn't try and boot him off with her good leg, "your rent was due last week. And I know you haven't paid your share, Flo told me that you were going to nip to the bank to get the money out of your account on your way home from work yesterday. And also, read the note, Bernie." He picked up a little white label attached to the handle of the vase with a smirk.

"Ah, clever, since when were you such a detective?" leaning over to read the label, Bernie read aloud, "to my Bernadette. Get well soon, let's get you back in action, if you know what I mean...Love, Roger...can I just say, 1) you're foul and 2) cheeky. Very well thought out." Taking a mock bow, Roger almost head butted Bernie's eye, the bruised one. "Watch it!"

"Sorry Bernie. How is it?" He reached out to stroke her face tenderly, but she slapped his hand away before it could come in contact with her cheek.

"Get off, we're not a couple," then Bernie remembered that the last they saw of each other before her hospitalisation was when he kissed her, making her palms go sweaty and cheeks slightly red. "And don't think I like you any more just because you kissed me, because if anything I now like you less." She pointed at him sternly, but Roger just laughed.

"I'm sorry, didn't you kiss me back?" A valid point. So valid that Bernie didn't actually want to answer. So instead she changed the subject and hoped he wouldn't notice.

"I don't really notice it until I look in the mirror," she brought her hand up to her eye and touched the bruise, "and touch it, apparently...ouch."

Instinctively, Roger's hand went out to somehow try and make things better, but instead he earned himself a harsher swat on the back of his hand, causing him to reel back as a reflex in response to the pain. It was like Bernie was a red-hot iron rod that Roger was physically unable to touch. "Sorry," he mumbled and adjusted his placement on the side of the bed.

"Just stop it, Roger... Wanna see something that will give you nightmares? That's if my face isn't enough," suddenly, Bernie became very aware of her state: last time she looked in the mirror an extremely gaunt face stared back at her and her long red hair hung limply to her waist.

"You look fine, Bernie. Plus, I've slept with worse." Roger shrugged his shoulders and once again, Bernie prodded his arse with her toe, making him jolt up from the side of her bed.

"I did that for the poor women who had the displeasure of shagging you." She crinkled her nose in disgust. He really could be disrespectful at times.

"Actually, I'll have you know no woman has ever been displeasured when shagging me." Slightly taken aback, he stood resolutely with his arms crossed. Bernie could barely believe what she was hearing. What. A. Tool.

"Shut up, you perv. Look at this," sweeping back the white sheet carefully, she revealed her mangled, purple, swollen ankle and knee. It truly did look awful, crimson cuts dotted in between the clumps of plum. Bernie watched Roger's eyes widen, mouth agape; utterly flabbergasted at what he was seeing.

"Fuck!" Was all he could say, terror replacing his smooth, slick attitude. "Brian told me what happened, but he didn't tell me it looked like...like - well, that!" Bernie wasn't completely convinced that he wasn't about to be sick.

"That'd be because you're the only visitor who needs punishing enough to see it. Might show Holden when he comes too, actually...."

"Bloody hell. That's...are you alright?" For once in his life, Roger's genuine self shined through and Bernie could hear the humane concern in his voice. That was something she didn't think he was capable of amongst the cockiness and flirtatiousness.

"Well, no. Hence why I'm in here for another week. You really don't use your brain very well, do you Taylor?" A look of something Bernie couldn't quite place crossed his face, a look she was left trying to decipher as before he could reply, he was ushered abruptly out of the ward by the irritated, greying head nurse.

With one final wink, Roger was gone. Bernie rolled her eyes, tucked the sheet back over her right leg (wincing at the pain) and then turned to properly admire her flowers. Smiling slightly to herself, she settled down into the sheets uncomfortably and fell asleep with the giver of the tulip assortment on her mind.

3/11/22