A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

18. Getaway

Freddie

I didn't give the old man much thought, certainly not while we were basically running for our lives. Naturally, I found it a bit odd how hard the others seemed to take it, especially John- but not enough to ask. After all, I had an army of other things battling for the center of attention, each with its own set of grabby little hands that stretched my sanity in every conceivable direction. As hectic as my life had been over the last fifteen years, I had never found myself in such a spot as this: that is, tearing across an icy street in Brooklyn before a spiteful mad scientist could gather his bearings, and silently praying that Rudy had fixed it so that he couldn't follow us once he did.

We were pushing our luck as it was, thanks to those neighbor friends coming along yet again to slow everything down to an absolute crawl. Tack that on to poor John's limited capabilities, and we were officially running behind. I had sent Roxie out just in case to do what she did best, distracting Stuart with her airhead and motormouth, but not even she could hold him off forever.

Probably the only thing that kept me from freaking out in this moment was the pressure of my stray kitten's hand around mine. The sensation grounded me as always, assured me that the hardest part was over. For we simply had to get back to the university, where K was (so he said) waiting for us. A few switch flips, a tap of the keys, and the three of us -Danny, Julia, and myself- would be home free in 1985.

And just imagine their faces, when they learn that they're coming along too.

"Gross," Danny hissed under his breath.

Julia blinked. "What?"

"I dropped my robe in the street and now it's got mud and crap all over it." He held out the wet, homely brown lump of fabric which, to be honest, didn't look any different.

"Oh?" she replied absently. "Well, what do you know."

"When we get to the car, can I put it in the trunk?"

"No, I've got a few things back there. Just put it in the floorboards down by your feet."

Danny nodded. "Okay." With that he reached for the "up" button on the garage lift- then let out a disappointed "Aww" when Rudy's finger touched it first. The stairs would have been faster, of course, but John had been sport enough to hustle down two flights already; I would not make him and his seventy-six year old joints run up the same. I can come across as aloof, maybe even mean, when I'm my most focused, but I'm not sadistic.

As a rule, anyway.

We all crammed into the lift as soon as the doors pulled apart. All except for Rudy, that is, who calmly observed our impression of a tin of sardines, hands locked behind his back.

"What level did you park on, Rudy?" Julia asked, finger hovering over the panel.

"Ground," he replied. "I didn't park here."

I folded my arms. "I thought you said you would-"

"And I will. I'll be following you like you asked."

"But supposing Stuart is up there already-"

"He isn't."

How do you fucking know? I wanted to snap- but since the doors were starting to drag together again, instead I scoffed, "And also- I mean, what if he comes this way in following us?"

The corner of Rudy's mouth curled. "Exactly."

Before I could make him explain, the doors shut him from view, forcing us once again to take him at his word. I hate it when he does that.