Body Language. Queen

Karma's A Bitch.

Freddie's P.O.V.

"Mr. Mercury?"

A numb shake to the arm.

"Freddie? Can you hear me?"

It was muffled. So muffled.

"Freddie, I'd like you to open your eyes for me."

I didn't know this voice.

I didn't feel real. What the fuck had happened? I wasn't fully conscious but I could hear more clearly now.

Everything was still pitch black.

It was silent apart from the unknown voice and the sound of machinery with some quiet beeping.

I stirred, moving my head slightly. Everything ached.

"Freddie? Please open your eyes..."
That voice I did know. That voice made a shiver run through my body and flashbacks enter my head.

I remembered now.
I must have blacked out.
I must be in a hospital bed.
And that was Brian...he was still here...with me.

I forced my eyes to flicker open, the bright white lights dazzling me and stinging.

I blinked a few times, focusing my eyes.
I was so groggy.

"That's it...brilliant." The strange voice said, softer this time.

I squinted through the light until my eyes had adjusted and I could see properly again.

I stared up at the middle aged man dressed in a doctors uniform, I must have looked confused as he began to explain.

He gave me a warm smile, "Well hello there, mister. Do you remember what happened last night?" He grabbed a clipboard and stood next to me.

I cleared my dry throat, I remembered, "S-some cunt...kicked me." I croaked, still feeling woozy.

The doctor chuckled at my brash choice of words, I wasn't entirely with it, if I had been, I'd have chosen my words more wisely.

"You could say that." He continued to chuckle, writing something down. "Well, it's a good job Brian here brought you in when he did. You slipped into shock on the way here because you didn't get the injury treated right away, causing you to shake uncontrollably and eventually, pass out. The good news is your leg isn't broken...but your knee popped out of its socket and several of your ligaments are torn. We tried to pop your knee back in whilst you were unconscious but it was being stubborn. We had to sedate you further in case you woke up whilst we were trying to get it back in.
The bad news is...your leg will have to be in a cast for up to six weeks to allow the ligaments to heal properly."

I stared up at him in utter disbelief.

Firstly, after the pain that I had witnessed I was so surprised that there was no bone breakage. But...in a cast? For six fucking weeks?! How the hell would I be able to do anything? Perform?

"Will I still be able to go on stage?" I asked, panicked.

He nodded slowly, "After your cast comes off you will require physiotherapy but you will be fine to go back on stage. As long as you're careful. Your knee may have a tendency to pop out again." He answered, sternly.

I gasped a little, this can't be happening. That's a likely two or more months without a stage show?

I turned away from the doctor and looked down at the bed sheets, only now that it had been mentioned was I conscious of the feeling of the cast around my leg. It felt heavy and disgusting. I didn't want to look at it. It would only make me angry.

And how fucking embarrassing? I slipped into shock? What a pile fluff I was, Jesus.

"You'll be able to be discharged later on today, Mr Mercury. You had to be monitored as we had to put you under. I'll leave you two alone for a while." He smiled, walking out.

I continued to stare at the bed sheets in despair, what the fuck was I going to do?

How could this have happened so suddenly?

I couldn't break my stare away from the crisp white bed sheets that covered my injured leg up.

I heard shuffling and someone sit in the chair that was placed next to this weird hospital bed.

"Hey..." he whispered.

I couldn't be mad at him. This was all my fault. If I wasn't such a desperate bastard I wouldn't have had to lie about having sex with him. We wouldn't have fallen out. I wouldn't have stormed off and I wouldn't have been kicked. And I wouldn't be here.

Karma's a bitch.

I flickered my vision towards Brian, who was leaning over with his arms resting on the bed. He looked so incredibly tired.

"Hi..." I whispered back. Suddenly feeling a wave of bashfulness wash over me.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, softly.

"Like shit." I giggled a little.

He smiled, "It doesn't matter, you know. We can push back stage shows until you feel like you're strong enough to do them again. Don't worry about it. It'll give us time to crack on with the album." He reassured.

I smiled a little, he was right, we didn't have any shows coming up anyway...and the album was really picking up steam.

I nodded, "Thanks, Bri...y-you didn't have to stay here all night." I gathered it was the next day as it was now light outside.

"Don't be daft. I was scared, I needed to know that you were going to be alright. I thought you'd gone into a fucking coma or something when you were unconscious in the back of the car. I picked you up and your body was limp. They took you off me straight away and whisked you into a room." He slightly cringed.

I raised my eyebrows, my state must have been quite the concern then.

"So, do I tell the doctor the truth?" I asked him, a little smile on my lips.

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"Do I tell him the reason I went into shock was because of my leg...or because you fucking kissed me?" I chuckled, smiling at him mischievously.

His eyes suddenly widened and he turned away from me, I watched as a blush crept up on his cheeks, I couldn't help a grin spreading across my face.

He did remember. I bet he was hoping that I would forget.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and he glanced at me sheepishly before cracking into a giggle.
"Yeah well..." he began, "...it was the only way you were going to shut up and listen to me." He tried to hide his nervous smile.

I scoffed sarcastically, surprised that he actually wanted to speak about it rather than pretended it never happened, like he usually did.

"I always listen to you!" I said, pretending to be offended.

"Really? Because you didn't listen to me at all last night when I was trying to explain myself to you. It was the only way I could think of actually proving to you that I wasn't spouting bullshit." He bit his nails and avoided eye contact, he was embarrassed as the blush kept intensifying on his face but it only made me feel extremely giddy.

He did mean that kiss.

But now I wanted clarification. Was this the beginning of something...or not?