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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

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Always family; John Deacon x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hello all, I just wanted to share with you all ANOTHER Queen fic. Now this one here is pretty long so I’m sorry not sorry for the longness of this fic but it had to be done. Thought I’d dip my toe into the platonic Queen fics (besides my Rock Angel series) since requests will open up soon. I just want to catch up on all the requests that came to me over Winter break that the anons have been waiting so patiently on before I accept any new ones. So in this fic you the lovely reader are the cousin to this Disco man, but you both act more like brother-sister as you will soon see. Hope you all enjoy this little fic :)

Warnings: Family abandonment (IF THIS TRIGGERS ANYONE PLEASE DON’T STRAIN YOURSELF TO READ IT), angst, swearing, fluff, Paul prenter (Ugh) and the loveable and NASTY QUEENIES :) Enjoy my lovely darlings ;)

Taglist

@geek-and-proud

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*Nov. 1974, Live at the Rainbow*

It was another successful concert at the Rainbow theater. Queen had once again performed a killer performance, and Brian now finally feeling better after his hepatitis scare knew he was ready to get back on stage and he performed his heart out to make up for what he had to miss while in the hospital.

The three main lead vocalists Freddie, Brian and Roger were heading towards their dressing room when they noticed someone sitting outside the door of their dressing room. She appeared to be about 15 possibly 16, had long (h/c) with platinum blonde highlights. She wore a white crop top shirt, black leather jacket, denim blue jeans and high-heeled boots similar to what their bass player always wore.

They also took notice around her neck was a camera and she was also fiddling around with it, instantly knowing exactly how to operate it. Freddie turned to Roger and teased out.

“Look Roger darling, the girl you ordered finally came.” Roger hit Freddie’s shoulder and told him to fuck off while Brian walked up to the girl and asked.

“Excuse me?” She looked up from her camera and they also saw that she was blowing up a bubble from the gum that she had been chewing. She deflated the bubble as Brian said, “Can we help you?”

“Oh sorry I was just waiting for Deacy.” She responded before going back to her camera.

“You know John?” asked Roger.

“Do I know him? Of course I know him he—oh I get it. Typical Deacy, never likes to talk about me to his friends, thinks I’ll embarrass him or something.” She started off before trailing off into a teasing tone. The three Queen members were still confused to just who exactly this young girl was. She then gestured to herself as she continued, “I’m (Y/n) Deacon, Deacy’s cousin.” She then dug into her jean pocket and innocently held out a packet of gum as she said, “Gum?”

*My POV*

Hello people and beyond! The name’s (y/n) Deacon. I was born March 7th, 1959. And before you ask, yes I am related to John Richard Deacon bass player of Queen. He’s my older cousin but if you ask me he’s been more like a brother to me than my cousin.

In fact it was Deacy who got me interested in electrics, so much so that I’ve taken photography classes in school and then once I get into University I hope to major in photography. In fact the camera I always carry with me around my neck, Deacy actually got it for me three years ago on my 13th birthday.

I had heard about his little band from aunt Lillian and of course from my friends. Now that Queen is starting to gain that spotlight of fame, I took the first bus I could in order to check and see if my dear Deacy hadn’t forgotten about me.

I was now sitting on the couch in the guys’ dressing room, Freddie was sitting close to me and I spoke up.

“Okay see that’s where I draw the line with cats, I mean c’mon who would want a hairless cat? It’s like you just turned a cat inside out and said, ‘here’s your new baby’. Plus if you leave it in the winter it’ll turn into a cat-cicle. But if you leave it out in the summer heat then it’ll be a sunburnt naked mole rat.”

“Brian, Roger make note of this that we are keeping this girl because she gets cat logic.” Freddie claimed as he wrapped an arm around me bringing me close in a one armed hug. I smiled and blushed slightly hiding my head bashfully. We soon heard the door open and finally entering inside the dressing room was the Disco man himself.

“Deacy darling you’ve got some serious explaining to do.” Freddie proclaimed as if he were giving a proclamation. Wide-eyed and startled like a deer in headlights he looked between his bandmates and that’s when Brian spoke up.

“Like why you didn’t tell us about your cousin?” I then made myself known by waving to John and telling him hi. Finally taking notice of me, Deacy smiled and came over to me while I met him half way and the two of us hugged each other after not seeing him for a good couple of years now.

“What are you doing here?”

“What you didn’t think I’d miss the opportunity to miss my cousin performing on stage and finally get to see what all the fuss was about, now did yah?” I teased as I playfully shoved him.

“Did my mum drop you off?”

“Well actually I sorta begged her to get me a bus pass here to London.”

“You mean to tell me you came here all by yourself?” he demanded.

“Deaks I’m not a little girl anymore, I can take care of myself.” He sighed and said as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

“I know you can, you know I just worry about you. Old habits die hard you know?”

“Gosh Deacy, who would’ve thought you were so overprotective? And here I thought you were the docile one.” teased Roger.

“Piss off Roger.” Defended Deacy.

“So (y/n), I’m just looking at these photographs of the concert and they are really good. Did you always want to be a photographer?” Brian said trying to change the conversation.

“Thanks Brian. And to answer your question not always. But I got interested in it at around 10 maybe 11 years old. It just started off taking pictures of the family dog Buddy and some birds, a few family outings but then when I turned 13 that’s when my interest in photography began to rise. In fact Deacy gave me this exact camera and showed me how to work out all the technical stuff with it for my 13th birthday.”

“I must say these are impressive. I would’ve thought a professional would’ve taken these.” Stated Roger as he picked up a photo.

“Aww come on you guys…..”

“No we’re serious (y/n) dear, you’ve got a gift.” Freddie said.

“That’s what I’ve always been telling her.” Said Deacy with a warm smile as he playfully ruffled my hair. I smiled at them and thanked them.

For the rest of the night I got to know the rest of the members of Queen, not just as rock stars, but as my cousin’s best friends. Most people know them as these four handsome young men trying to become famous rockstars, but I got to know their true selves. Brian the smart astrophysicist interested in all things regarding the universe who made his dissertation about stardust.

Roger who is known to most as the ‘heartthrob, womanizing, air-headed and stubborn drummer’ when actually he’s an intelligent person who first started off with dentistry (to which both Deacy and Brian teased him about) but then changed his profession to biology. The first drummer to ever truly tune his drums before playing them.

And of course the front man Freddie Mercury. Most people think he’s always the extravagant person both on and off stage, when in reality he’s just a humble, loving human being who studied design, loves cats and has his insecurities just like everyone else.

I knew from that night that I was going to see these boys not just as my cousin’s friends, but also an extended family.

3 years passed and any chance I got I would visit the boys during holiday breaks or stay with Deacy during the summers. I even got the chance to go with them to Rockfield farm when they recorded “A Night at the Opera” because I was assigned a summer project for my photography class. And when EMI saw my pictures, they actually hired me an internship with them to be the band’s official photographer.

Now that I am done with high school, I’m just waiting for the autumn to start so that I can officially start my University career in photography. The boys have definitely given me good practice for my camera work, doing pictures both on stage and for behind the scenes whether through the tours or them in the studio recording.

They’re rowdy and silly but it’s awesome to see them work and I actually get to see the genius machine that is Queen on how they create their music.

We were currently in the studio and the boys were recording their newest song “We are the Champions”. I was getting the best pictures that I could that the record company was asking for me. Some of the pictures included them in the booth rehearsing, or Freddie along with the sound technician at the sound table messing with the buttons and track, getting it to fit his vision.

Since they were on a strict deadline to get the song recorded, it meant more hours in the studio, hours that not even I could last very long with. I yawned softly when I felt a tap at my shoulder. I looked up to see Deacy standing beside me.

“You ready to head home?” I yawned again and nodded tiredly. “Alright missy, let’s get you home and into bed.” I moaned tiredly and raised my arms out and said.

“Carry me.”

“Are both your legs broken?” he teased. I let out a tired whine.

“You’re mean Deacy.”

“C’mon you get up. I know you can do it.”

“Too tired to get up.” I groaned.

“Then allow me your royal majesty.” I heard Freddie say as I was then picked up princess style and I wrapped my arms around Freddie’s neck. “That better darling?”

“I love you Fred.” I stated bluntly.

“You’re going to spoil her too much Fred.” Deacy said.

“Oh come off it Deacy, she’s a darling and she’s been working so hard she deserves this.”

“Yeah Deacy, I deserve this. Why can’t you be more like Freddie?”

“Because I know when to set limits for you.” I stuck my tongue out at him and then I was carried out of the studio and placed into Deacy’s Volvo. Deacy followed suit and we all bid each other a goodnight and soon Deacy pulled out of the parking lot and drove us back home.

We both entered quietly so that we didn’t wake up either Veronica or baby Bobby. Deacy and I kissed each other goodnight and I went to my guest room and got out of my jeans, didn’t even bother to get out of my shirt and just plopped on my bed and went to sleep.

The next day was like any other day, the guys had just gotten done finishing the final touches to “We are the Champions” and we were all celebrating. Roger uncorked the bottle of wine and poured the guys a drink while I got some non-alcoholic cider, but I knew that Roger would let me sneak in a sip of wine when Deacy wasn’t looking. As we were all gathered around just sharing stories and what not, it was then Paul came in and said.

“Freddie, boys there’s someone here to see you.” Roger and I looked at each other and he muttered.

“Hopefully the police to take him away for being an utter annoyance.” I snickered softly which made Paul glare at me and that’s when he said.

“Come on in Mrs.” And soon walking into the studio was someone I thought I’d never see again. My body tensed up and my heart sunk, it felt like I had gotten punched in the gut and had all the air knocked out of me as a blast from the past came back and stood before this very room.

Her familiar (h/c) now shorter than I remembered but she still kept it the same style, her (e/c) looking right at me. She looked a bit more run down than from what I remembered, probably got involved in drugs since that’s the big thing nowadays.

“Hello (y/n).” She started off. I stood up and just glared at her. “God you’ve—you’ve grown up so fast.” She tried to lighten up the mood. Really? How dare she come back after all these years. In fact how did she find out where I was? I walked out of the room avoiding another glance at her and slammed the door loud behind me.

*John’s POV*

“So…..where are the groceries?” I demanded.

“John please—”

“No, no I really want to know. Because you’re finally here, but I see no groceries.” I stood up and continued as I walked up towards her, “I mean that’s what you said when you dropped her off with mum, your sister. But news flash Katherine. You’re 15 years too late!” I now stood face to face with her, hell I almost lost my composure and wanted to hit her so hard.

“Whoa, whoa Deacy take it easy! Take it easy!” Brian said pulling me away from her.

“Deacy darling you’ve never acted this way before, just who is this woman?”

“Unfortunately she’s my mum’s younger sister. My aunt……”

“(Y/n)’s mother.” She finished.

“No, no, no! You lost that right when you abandoned her that day!” I snapped.

“Deacy calm down, calm down.” Brian said as he placed his hand to my chest trying to get me to calm down, but at this point I knew nothing would.

“Why are you here? How did you even know she’d be here?” I demanded.

“I’ve known how close you both were when you were kids, so I figured that she’d be with you. And when I heard about where Queen does their rehearsals I thought I’d get clearance, thanks to Mr. Prenter, he allowed me to come and see her.”

Bloody hell of course Paul would play a part in this. He’s always hated (y/n) hanging around, talking about her like she was a distraction from the band. Of course (y/n) never took anything lying down.

Much like Roger, hell in fact all her life when she needed and wanted to, she could be a right up trickster. Her pranks were always over the top but brilliantly planned and well executed.

I would know because I was unfortunately a victim to some of those pranks, but then again I also helped form some of those pranks on say like heart-breaking, back-stabbing boyfriends, stab in the back best friends, you know those types of people.

I then left the booth and tried to find (y/n). I searched and searched but I couldn’t find her anywhere, that was until I heard sniffling from the janitor’s closet.

I pressed my ear against the door and I knew without a doubt that (y/n) was behind the door. I lightly knocked on it and she stopped crying and choked out.

“Please go away.” I knew words wouldn’t convince her to come out, so I did the next best thing that always seemed to at least put a smile on her face, even when I couldn’t see it.

I went into the next room and managed to find some paper and a pen and I raced back towards the janitor’s closet and wrote something down on the paper before sliding it under the door.

*My POV*

How could she? How could she suddenly decide to show up after all these years? How the hell did she even find me? I kept crying all alone in the janitor’s closet, having the broom against the handle so that no one could come in. I heard a knock so I just told whoever it was to go away.

I heard footsteps walking away so I figured they got the message, but then I heard footsteps again and then something was tossed underneath the crack of the door. It was a piece of paper. I slowly crawled up halfway out of my spot to grab the sheet of paper and unfolded it to see a very familiar little rhyme.

Oh won’t you come out little Dale.

Don’t you weep and tell me your tale.

Deacy. Whenever I was so upset that I would hide away in either a closet or under the sink, he’d always write me a silly but comforting note that always first opened with those two lines.

Sometimes that was all it took for me to open the door and talk to him, other times we’d just pass notes back and forth between the door until I was ready to come out. Since there wasn’t a writing utensil at all in here, I was forced to remove the broom and slowly open the door.

The first thing I saw his hand being held out for me to take. I slowly reached my hand out from the door and took his hand. He always knew that whenever I got this upset to never push me. I felt his thumb rub and stroke over the top of my hand, his other fingers gently intertwining with my own in various different ways trying to give me the best comfort he could till I finally had the courage to come out.

Finally I opened up the closet.

I immediately hugged Deacy and he hugged me back and I whimpered out.

“I’m sorry I pulled a Roger move.”

“Shhhh. It’s alright my little nightingale. Unlike Roger’s temper tantrum over a strange car song, you have a better excuse. I’m so sorry love I had no idea it would be her.”

“I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. It’s just—”

“No I know. I know. Believe me love, I gave her a piece of my mind after all these years. All for you.”

“Why couldn’t you have been my real brother Deacy?” he softly laughed and said as he stroked through my hair.

“I may be your cousin by blood (n/n). But to me you’ve always been the sister I’ve always wanted. And that’ll never change, you hear me?” he cupped my face into his hands. He wiped my tears as I nodded and hugged him, burying my face into his shoulder. “We’ll get through this together dove, just like we’ve always done.”

Days passed and Deacy made sure that if my mum came anywhere near me trying to start a conversation, either he or the lads would come in and save me with a ‘task’ to do, just to spare me more agony and pain, especially since she kept coming over to the studio every day and was always in the same room as I was in.

However one day when guys all had to record their parts for a new song, I was looking at all my photos when I heard her voice say.

“(Y/n)?” I froze and turned around to see my mum standing there, blocking my only exit. I stood up and said.

“Stay away from me!”

“Please just hear me out, please! Give me 2 minutes.” I looked down at my watch and said.

“1.58” telling her that her time was ticking.

“I know that—I haven’t been the best mother. After your father left us I thought I could do well by you but I guess I was wrong. I never left you because I didn’t love you, I left you because I loved you too much to put you in what I was living under. I could barely keep the mortgage on the house, we would’ve been homeless. I couldn’t do that to you. I thought that by leaving you with my sister, you’d get a better chance. Much more than you could have with me.”

“Then why didn’t you visit me? Why didn’t you call?” I asked as tears filled my eyes.

“I was a mess I—I got into some serious trouble and had to try and work them out. If they found out I had a child, then they’d use you against me. I couldn’t let them do that. But I do have something to show you,” she dug into her purse and pulled out a photograph. She walked up to me and held it out for me. “Look at this picture, just look at it.”

I looked between her and the picture until I finally took it and turned it over and was shocked to see what the picture was.

It was a picture of me at my secondary school decathlon. It was the championship competition and I had gotten the last question correct which made our school the first time in decades win a decathlon.

“You—you were there?”

“Yes, you were always such a clever girl, I knew if anyone could get your school the win it’d be you.” I just stared at her in shock, even though I hadn’t seen her since I was a child, she still was there watching over me. “I—I got more pictures like that in the apartment that I’m stay at, if you’d like you could come over and see them.”

“Really?” she nodded with a soft smile. “And I was also wondering that after you’re done with work, do you—wanna get a drink or something? Coffee? Do you like coffee?”

“I love coffee.” I said.

“Great, I know this one coffee shop in downtown.”

And for the first time, I was starting to slowly reforge a bond with my mother.

As the weeks passed and the two of us got to know each other a little more, hanging out after work, going to the clubs, and going to the mall shopping for clothes. Of course I had to buy them but hell we were using Deacy’s card and he didn’t seem to mind at all. So long as we didn’t go crazy and spend all his hard-earned money at once.

And true to her word, my mum did in fact have pictures of almost all my main important events that have happened in my life. My first swim team competition, my school play freshman year, even my high school graduation.

Every important even, she was there.

One day she had came over to Deacy and Veronica’s place and we were both sitting on the couch. The two of us laughing and looking at all of the photos I’ve taken since I’ve been with the guys, explaining each and every picture.

“There us at Rockfield farm studios, Roger was messing around with the chickens, which I told him not to, then next thing he knew the rooster was chasing after him for over 15 minutes.”

“Wow, I must say these are probably the best taken pictures I’ve seen, you’ve really got a gift.”

“Yeah, Deacy says that all the time.” She sat there silent and she said.

“Hey how do you feel about road trips?” I looked at her and said.

“You’re looking at someone whose toured with the biggest band all over the world. A simple road trip wouldn’t hurt me. You—really mean it? You and me?”

“If you’re interested. Just you and me poppet.”

“I am…..mum.” She smiled and for the first time in a very long time, my mum embraced me. I smiled and wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back.

“We’ll go first thing in the morning.” She told me and I nodded.

*John’s POV*

Seeing (y/n) hugging Kathrine like that made me feel so on edge. In fact this entire time she’s been here I’ve felt this sickening feeling that history was going to repeat itself.

“Deacy?” I turned to see Brian standing behind me. I had invited the lads over for supper and just so that way Katherine would be outnumbered should she try anything.

“If you’re going to tell me to stop spying on them, you might as well leave now.”

“You know—maybe she’s really trying to change. Maybe she did try to come back and patch things up with (y/n).” I turned to him and snarled out.

“She had 15 years to do that, don’t you think if she really cared about her own daughter she’d have come sooner?”

“I know Deacy and I’m not jumping to any conclusions yet but, from what I’ve seen so far. (Y/n) seems to really want to be with her mother. Maybe you could try to let go of the past and see that Katherine is seemingly wanting to change. At least do it for (y/n).”

“Everything I do is for her. I just—I just don’t want to see her get hurt again. For three years when she was first dropped off at my home, she always asked me ‘when’s mummy coming back?’ At the end of the three years by the time I was a teenager I just snapped and told her that she abandoned her. I felt awful in the way I had to explain it, took me over a week to finally get her to talk back to me. And I don’t know what’ll happen if she tries to leave her again.”

“I know mate, I know.” Brian wrapped an arm around me trying to get me to cheer up as I watched with a heavy heart as Katherine and (y/n) were planning out their summer road trip.

It was early the next morning, I woke up to the sounds of Robert getting fussy and felt Veronica stir beside me.

“I’ve got him love.”

“But you took care of him last time.”

“For you my darling, I would always take care of our children if it meant you could still sleep.” I kissed her temple down to her neck before getting up and heading over to Robert’s room. “Alright my boy, what’s going on with you hmm?” I picked him up and he babbled.

“Hungwy dada.” Since Robert couldn’t quite get his R’s right they always sounded like w’s. I smiled and said as I picked him up and held him in my arms.

“Okay buddy, what shall it be today hmm? Cheese on toast?”

“No yucky dada.”

“How dare you! Cheese on toast is a wonderful dish, you take that back mister man.” I teased as I began to tickle his sides making him laugh. He squirmed in my hold and that’s when I saw the silhouette of aunt Katherine walking down the stairs.

I narrowed my eyes and peeked out of Robert’s bedroom door and swore I saw a suitcase in her hand. I told Robert to go over to our room and stay with his mum while I went down to see just exactly she thought she was doing.

I silently walked down the stairs and saw her with the suitcase and she was about to grab her purse when I stopped her and said.

“Going out shopping again, Katherine?” she froze in her spot and turned around towards me and said.

“John I—I didn’t expect to see you up so early; I would’ve thought the tour exhausted you out.”

“Oh it did, but then again when my child needs me I’m always there for them. So where is it to this time?”

“Actually it’s not what you think. Work called in and I’ve got to check in on some things.”

“And what about the big road trip you and (y/n) had planned? Hmm? Were you going to let her in on your business?” I snapped.

“I was actually going to have you tell her for me.” She said. I rolled my eyes and turned away from her shaking my head.

“I knew it.” I muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“You almost had me convinced. Almost I mean you finally convinced (y/n) but not anymore! I knew you could never change. You abandoned her once before and I knew that if you ever came back into her life again, you’d do it all over again!” My voice raising up louder and angrier than I ever thought I could go.

“John?” Veronica soon came down with Robert in her arms and the lads were right behind her as well, probably hearing my yelling.

“Jeez Deaks its barely 7 o’clock, what the hell is with all the yelling?” Questioned Roger.

“Katherine’s leaving (y/n) again.” I stated. They all turned to her and Veronica said.

“Is this true Katherine?”

“And it gets better, she’s wanting me to tell (y/n) the road trip they both planned out together is cancelled instead of telling her herself.” I made sure to point out.

“It’s just business Veronica dear, if you were in my shoes you’d do the same. I promise I’ll keep better in touch this time.”

“Took you 15 years just to get back in touch.” I said. Seeing the look on my wife’s and my friends’ faces they finally got to see what I had seen all those years ago. From what I had told them, now they finally got to see it. Veronica holding our son walked up to her and said.

“Katherine, if you walk out of (y/n)’s life now…..don’t you ever come back.” With that she walked back up the stairs passing the guys. All was silent before I spoke up.

“May I have a moment alone with her?” I could already feel the tension from them. I knew the guys were just as angry as I was because they cared for (y/n) as much as I did, even after knowing her after just 3 years. I heard them walk away until finally it was just Katherine and I in my front hallway. “Sit down.”

“I don’t have time for this John—”

“I said sit down Katherine!” I snapped as I finally turned back towards her and just saw her back as her hand was on the doorknob ready to walk out. She sighed heavily and walked right past me and sat down on the living room couch.

I walked over toward her and sighed heavily and finally spoke my mind.

“You know; (y/n) was doing just fine until you showed up. But now that you’re back, you have responsibility for her.”

“Look I came back for her—”

“Oh bull. BULLSHIT!!” I yelled at her. “(Y/n) is not some purse that you hang up on a rack and then pick her up whenever you’re ready to use it. Her life goes on! She’s not supposed to be there for you, you’re supposed to be there for her!”

“You get off my back! YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?! IT JUST HAPPENED!!!” She yelled at me as she stood up. Her breathing was sharp and heavy as she tried to explain her reasoning, “After Derek left, I tried my best but it was just too much and I—”

“CUT THE RUBBISH! ALRIGHT! CUT IT!! Cause I’ve been there! But I didn’t run out on Veronica. I was there for her every day because that’s what a real parent does.”

“A real parent!? Fine. Then you’re a better father than my good-for-nothing man was. Hell John you must be better than any man in the world must be! The one in a million golden boy!” She cheered sarcastically. I shook my head at her and turned away from her. “Now are you going to tell (y/n) or not?”

“I’m not gonna do your dirty work for you.”

“Fine. I’ll—I’ll call her from the road then.”

“Yeah you do that.”

“I will.” She then walked out and that’s when we both heard (y/n)’s voice call out.

“Mummsy.” Katherine stopped in her tracks as (y/n) stood in front of me setting her bags down as she said, “You ready to head out?” Katherine turned towards (y/n) and put on that fake persona act and said as she walked up towards her.

“(Y/n) love glad I caught you. Umm…..some business came up that I gotta handle, so we’re gonna have to put our—trip on hold. You understand right?” (Y/n) was silent for a moment before she finally said.

“Yeah, yeah I understand.”

“Oh that’s great, I promise you I had no intention of having this come up.”

“No yeah I understand.”

“And it’ll only just be for a couple of weeks….well maybe even longer.”

“I get it, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Look I’ll call you next week and we’ll iron out the details then, okay?” (Y/n) nodded.

I could tell from the second she got the news that (y/n) was heartbroken and I feared that she knew Katherine’s real reason for leaving. She tried to pull off an understanding smile and voice but I could hear the cracks in her voice.

“It was great seeing you again poppet.” Katherine said as she reached out to her but (y/n) shrugged her off as she said.

“You too—Katherine.” She spat out her own mother’s name icily as she stared right at her. Katherine knowing that she had lost her only child once more, sighed solemnly and left without another word, turning her back on (y/n) once more.

“I’m sorry love.” I heard a choked out laugh and that’s when (y/n) said.

“No this actually works out perfectly I mean with the tour about to resume I can get back to practicing before University starts and—”

“(N/n), you don’t have to pretend around me. It’s okay to be angry.” I assured her.

“Mad? Why should I be mad Deacy? I mean at least she said goodbye this time, right? Hell at least this time you won’t have to hear me complain ‘when’s mummy coming home?’ I’m not 4 years old anymore, I can handle it. I—just wish I didn’t waste my damn time building this fucking scrapbook!” She then pulled out from her bag a photo album and glued onto the cover was a recent picture of her and Katherine together.

With all the pictures she’s taken over the years, (y/n)’s other hobby included scrapbooking. I saw that it had been completed decorated and detailed, almost like a professional had made it. She set it down on the table and just glared down at it.

I slowly walked up to her but kept to her space because I knew it was only a matter of time before she would break down and I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“Darling, you know that if there was anything I could do to make this better—”

“No, no, no, no this works out for the best,” she said as she came up to me looking me right in the eye. “I mean it’s her loss anyway I mean I learned how to ride a bike by myself. Yeah sure the boys laughed at me but I got back up and showed them a thing or two about riding didn’t I?”

“Yes you did love bug.” I said with a fond smile remembering that day.

“And there was a hell of a lot of stuff I did without her. I learned how to shave, how to drive, I got over my first crush and date without her, I did prom without her, I had fifteen great birthdays without her! That bitch never even sent me a damn card. TO HELL WITH HER!!!” She turned and screamed at the door.

God she’s always tried to remain so optimistic about life and everything around her. Always tried to remain strong after being abandoned by both parents, she always tried to go on every day with a smile and a laugh but now she was finally letting all that pain out like a dam bursting.

Hearing her sharp breaths and the tremble in her voice just broke my heart.

“I never needed her then, and I’ll never need her now.” She snapped as she walked away. I softly spoke her name as I reached out and touched her arm. That’s when she turned around and said.

“Nah you know what Deacy? I’m gonna get through college without her. I’ll get my dream job without her. I’ll find me a good guy to be with, and then I’m going to have a whole bunch of kids. I’m gonna be a better mother than she ever was because there’s not a fucking thing she can teach me ABOUT HOW TO LOVE A CHILD!!!”

Her eyes were red from the tears pooling in her eyes and her face morphed from pure rage to brokenhearted with a snap of a finger. It was almost like she had de-aged right before my eyes and was back to being that three year old girl that I once held in my arms whenever she cried about her parents.

“Why didn’t they want me?” At this point I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her and held her as close and as tightly as I could as I felt her wet my shoulder with her tears. Her sobs pierced the room as I felt her go limp against me. The two of us slowly collapsed to our knees but not once did I let my grip on her go loose. I kept hold of her as I rubbed her back and whispered words of love and comfort in her ear.

*3rd Person POV*

Unaware that in behind the door that led to the dining room, Freddie, Roger and Brian stayed and overheard the entire conversation. And overhearing their favorite girl break down like this, broke all their hearts. Freddie wiped away his tears that were flooding down his face, almost ready to break down the door and just hug his little camera girl.

Brian who standing behind Freddie had a hand on his shoulder but he too had tears streaming down his face. While Roger who was had pulled up one of the dining room chairs just a couple inches away from Fred, his back turned towards the door.

He was a mix between pure anger and heartbreak. He wa tempted to knock over the china cabinet but also just break down into tears at hearing his partner in crime cry this much. Never had he heard her make those sounds before and it just hurt him to the core.

Back with John and (y/n), she had finally managed to cry herself to sleep. Deacy slowly picked her up bridal style when the guys decided to come into the living room and the second John saw their red, teary eyes, he knew that they had stayed and overheard everything.

“You heard it all I assume?” John asked more as a statement than a question.

“We didn’t mean to impose John.” Said Brian.

“It’s fine, beats having to tell you guys and having her relive that pain and exhausting myself to repeat the same story.” He said as he looked down at his little cousin. Roger came up towards Deacy and stroked (y/n)’s head.

“The poor dear” Freddie said solemnly.

“Guess you were right about her Deacy.” Brian said.

“There will be plenty of time for ‘I told you so’s’ later, right now I should get (y/n) back into her room so she can get the proper rest she needs.” Deacy then took his cousin upstairs and placed her back in her bed.

He tucked her in and brushed away the hair from her face and lightly kissed her forehead before leaving her room to head back downstairs.

As time went on and it was around late afternoon the guys were still hanging around John’s place, agreeing to stay until (y/n) woke up so that the five of them could have a talk. Veronica who was currently walking up the stairs to check up (y/n) muttered to herself.

“Oh I hope she’s okay.” She got to the door and lightly knocked on it and said, “(Y/n), (y/n) love it’s Veronica, may I come in?” She heard nothing. She knocked again and said, “(Y/n)?” when she didn’t get a response, she opened the door to see a shocking sight.

The bedsheets had been turned over and the bedroom window was open, the curtains blowing with the wind.

“Oh no, John!” she cried out as she raced back down the stairs. The boys heard footsteps running down the stairs and when they saw Veronica, the first thing they saw was her frantic state. John immediately went up to his wife holding her arms and said.

“Love calm down, what’s going on?”

“(Y/n)’s is missing.”

“What? What do you mean missing?!” demanded Roger.

“I went to check on her but when I opened the door she wasn’t in her room. The window was open and—” without getting another word, the four bandmates raced up the stairs to see that Veronica was telling the truth. She came up behind them as Deacy and Brian raced towards the window and looked down.

“She must’ve scaled down using the pipes along the house.” Suggested Brian.

“My darlings, her bag is gone.” Freddie stated as he stood by the closet and sure enough the bags that she had used for the upcoming road trip were gone.

“She could be anywhere by now.” Brian said but then I snapped.

“She could be out of the country for all we know because we don’t know how long she’s been gone for!”

“Deacy calm down.” Roger said.

“I swear if anything happens to that girl, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Don’t worry darling we’ll find her.” Fred assured me as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll turn London upside down if we have too to find her.”

We then split up into teams. I called my mum first to take care of Robert and watch over him then once she took care of him Veronica and I checked in the square, Fred took the studio, and Brian and Roger took the park.

It was an endless search trying to find her, and I pray to God we find her alive. It would be dark soon and all the freaks and psychopaths love to come out at night.

*3rd Person POV*

It was hours into the search and sunset would soon be near and still no one had found any signs of (y/n). After search the studio, Fred decided to help Brian and Roger in the park while Deacy and Veronica tried the mall, hoping that maybe (y/n) had gone inside since it was getting dark soon.

Fred and Brian teamed up together to search one side of the park while Roger was near by the lake searching on his own. It was then he took notice of something underneath the bridge nearby. He quickly ran towards the bridge and low and behold he had found (y/n).

She was huddled under the bridge, her knees tucked in close to her body sniffling softly. Roger took notice of the tearstains on her face and he felt his heart break once more. He cautiously approached her and knelt down beside her and softly said her name.

*My POV*

I sniffled and felt more tears run down my face. I thought that I had finally found a place to cry in peace without risking anyone coming near me and asking questions when I heard the familiar soft, spoken voice of Roger Taylor say my name. I jumped up but then groaned and turned my back on him.

“Oh god…..”

“You know you really gotta pick your hiding spots. I mean seriously you have no idea how many people could see you—”

“Why are you here Roger?!” I snapped.

“We’ve been scouring the entire town looking for you (n/n). You gave us all quite a scare.” He said. I didn’t respond to him, just scooted as far away from him as I could and put my bag between us giving me that extra space I needed. “You wanna talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. My dad never wanted me, my mum never wanted me, nobody ever wants me.”

“That’s not true—”

“Open your eyes Roger!” I snapped at him as I felt a new wave of tears hit me. “All my life I’ve had to hear all my friends telling me what great parents they have. You know my dad fought in Vietnam, my mom’s a real estate’s agent. My parents help support me. Well—both my parents never wanted me! Yeah I had Deacy and aunt Lillian but they are just my cousin and aunt. It’s not the same! My whole life I had to be loved by someone whose not my parent and I hate it! I hate it soo much!” I lowered my head choking on my sobs.

It was then I felt Roger’s arms wrap around me and I felt him place my head over his heart, each beat of his heart trying to soothe my tormented mind. He stroked down my hair and he said.

“Do you remember back on Ridge farm when Brian took us all out to that one area of woods to see the stars? Paul forced himself into the getaway, so to mess with him you filled his bag with rocks and used that lizard you came across to put on his bottle as well as on his head.”

“And then it crawled into his mouth.” I finished.

“Yeah pure stroke of genius.” He chuckled. “(N/n), you may think you’re unloved, but that is absolute bollocks. You are loved. By Deacy, Brian, Fred, me, Veronica, hell even Miami. We all love you, and if anything had happened to you, we wouldn’t know what to do.” He wiped the tearstains away from my cheek with his thumb before lifting my chin up to face him, forcing me to stare into his baby blue eyes. “The only one who doesn’t deserve to be loved and wanted is your mother. Anyone who could play you like that, has no right to be called a parent. You are way out of her league.”

“Then why would she come back pretending to care?” Roger just looked at me sadly and he said.

“I wish I had the right answer. But I can tell you this; you’re sweet, you’re kind, smart, beautiful. You’ve got more sass in one finger than Deacy will ever have in his entire body. And it’s like you said one day in the way off deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep.” I laughed softly as he kept repeating the word deep at least four more times before continuing, “distant future, you’ll become a mother yourself and I know that you’ll be twice the mother than your own was.” He tucked some of my hair behind my ears, revealing them before gently cupping my chin between his thumb and index fingers.

“How is it that a dentist ends up being wiser than both the astrophysicist and electrical engineer?”

“I was never a dentist and you know it.” He said as he playfully squeezed the tip of my nose shaking my head which made me laugh again as I pushed his hand away making him laugh softly. He then leaned forward and placed his forehead against mine.

This was a special little thing that Roger loved to do with me. It was our own secret little comforting mechanism. I was actually the first one to do it to him when he once had a breakdown after a show. He just seemed so peeved about something that the lads almost feared that he’d throw out another telly set. So I took the risk and took his hands in mine and just placed my forehead against his and just held that position till he calmed down.

From then on, whenever one of us was mad or upset, the forehead touch helped bring the other back to Earth. He then wrapped his arms around me giving me his famous bear hugs. His hand stroked down my hair as his head now moved next to mine while my head rested against his shoulder and the two of us sat there for a while in silence.

“C’mon kid, let’s get you home.”

“I don’t think I can.” I muttered sadly.

“Why’s that?”

“Deacy.” I simply answered. Roger separated from me and he said.

“He’s not mad (y/n)…..”

“You don’t get it, you may have seen John Deacon the man who can crumble you down with just two sentences, but you’ve yet to see what happens when he redirects that anger and mixes it with overprotective behavior.”

“Love, he’s been worried sick about you. He needs to know that his little sis is safe. I know I would.” I sighed heavily and said.

“But what if he does get mad?”

“I’ll talk to him. If anyone knows a thing about overreacting it’s me.” I smiled softly and that’s when Rog stood up and held his hand out for me to take.

“You promise to have my back?”

“Partners in crime till the very end. Just like those two cats in that poem you like so much.” I smiled up at him and took his hand and he helped me up as he took my bag over his shoulder and had his free arm wrapped around my shoulder as he guided me back to his car and he drove me back to Deacy and Veronica’s.

*3rd Person POV*

The sun had set about 5 minutes ago and with almost everyone back at John’s place, no one had found her. John who was running his hands through his hair frantic with worry as his wife tried to calm him down.

“Maybe we should call the police.” Suggested Brian.

“No need Brian.” Roger’s voice soon spoke up as he opened the door. Everyone turned to see that the drummer had finally came back.

“And just where were you all this time Roger dear?”

“Bringing back a lost lamb.” He then gestured with his arm and soon walking in cautiously was (y/n). Immediately everyone began crowding around her asking her questions about where she was and why she ran away like that.

Sensing his partner in crime’s nervousness and anxiety he told everyone.

“Guys, guys back it up. Don’t crowd her all at once.” John who merely stood there by the couch in shock to see his cousin alive and well. Roger looked to Deacy and pressed his hand to (y/n)’s back. She looked up at him and he nodded to her and she cautiously walked towards her cousin, like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

“Where did you find her?” asked Freddie.

“At the park underneath the Churchill bridge. Poor girl was crying her eyes out.” Roger whispered. Veronica ten decided to allow her husband and (y/n) to have some alone time so she guided the boys into the kitchen for a proper meal after their long search while she called Lilian to tell her that they found (y/n) and that she would pick Robert up in the morning.

(Y/n) stood in front of her cousin. John looked down at her before finally raising his hands to cup both sides of her face to lift her face up so that he could get a good look at her.

“You’re not hurt are you?” he asked. With a shake of her head, Deacy sighed with relief and immediately embraced her before openly weeping into her shoulder. She hugged her cousin back whimpering.

“I’m sorry I ran away. I’m sorry Deacy, I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh, you’re home now. Safe and unharmed and that’s all I care about now. It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay dove.” The two cousins kept hold of each other trying to draw strength from each other knowing that they were going to get by and be okay.

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

crashed into me {Bernie Taupin}

Summary: Ash, having split from Roger, is called in to work with Elton John, where she meets Bernie Taupin, who feels like a breath of fresh air, even if he's not so different from Roger, he's different enough. It feel different. It feels good.

A/N: atrociously long but I don't know the word count. (Edit: akdkaldksfdg it's 8200 words wtf) I'm so so so sorry to mobile users who Read More doesn't work for. And for everyone else for the next 3 days until I can get to a laptop and add a read more. SO this is a thing. I'm actually a little proud of it. It'll get like 12 notes because it's obscure as hell but I'm enjoying myself and that's what matters. I hope that if you read it, you enjoy it too!!

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

When John Reid, Queen’s manager, calls Ash specifically, she can’t even begin to fathom what he wants. This is John Reid, who manages Elton John, who she’s met maybe twice in total, wanting her to meet someone- not Queen, just Ash. He calls and he asks her to meet him at his office, to bring her portfolio; he tells her that he’s got a client who is interested in working with her, and Ash feels like she’s going to throw up.

When John Reid, Elton John’s manager, calls Ash, Queen’s designer, specifically, he knows without even really needing a meeting that she’d be perfect to work with Elton. The moment he’d met her, watched her negotiate for a place on EMI’s payroll with Foster, he knew she wasn’t one to be chewed up and spat out the industry like so many before her had been, and will be. She’s weathered rockstars, weathered Freddie Mercury for years by now, and she’s got the drive, the talent, and the vision to bring Elton’s extravagance to life.

And more importantly, he knows what’s gone down between her and Roger, and since they’ve split, he doesn’t want either of their talent wasted on awkward encounters and unresolved tension; he wants to give her a project with another artist as much as he wants to give her an opportunity.

The meeting is more of a formality.

“Rocket, dear, lovely to see you, please take a seat,” Reid smiles warmly at her when she knocks on his door, wearing a bright red jumpsuit, the top of which is tied off around her waist, and a yellow, bejeweled, bell sleeved crop top. Her hair is out, looking somehow both styled, and an absolute, untameable mess, and she’s already reaching for her folio in the leather bag she’s got slung over one shoulder.

“Rocket? Who’s Rocket?” There’s someone on the sofa that Ash hadn’t been able to see for the door, and when she steps into the room, she can feel her heart in her throat. Elton. Fucking. John.

“Rocket here is a designer, she’s Queen’s designer actually, though she’s essentially on retainer for EMI; I think she could really bring your ideas to life, Elton.” Reid’s so clear and concise, and Ash has to remember to close her mouth, a little overwhelmed now that she knows exactly why she’s here. “Rocket, please, take a seat.”

Ash steps quickly up to the desk, looking to Reid to avoid staring at Elton and the man she hadn’t noticed beside him, instead pulling out her portfolio and laying flat on the desk. The switch is instant, from nervous to all business, seizing the opportunity presented.

“You should have given me a heads up, I could have brought some of the actual pieces I was working on for Freddie, they’re far more impressive.” Ash tells him, voice a little tense. She avoids looking directly at Reid, opening up to the front page which was already a rather impressive photo of Freddie in a sequinned, striped jumpsuit, laid out over a sketch of the design with notes, and fabric samples. When she finally looks up at Reid, he’s giving her a faintly amused smile, before his gaze flicks to the sofa and it’s occupants.

“I’m sorry,” he’s not really, they both know, but Ash just gives a tight smile in response before he’s calling over the other two, “Elton, Bernie, would you like to come over and introduce yourselves and take a look at her portfolio, maybe get some ideas?”

There’s movement once he stops speaking; Elton, and the one who has to be Bernie, make their way over, both looking between Ash and Reid, a little confused, but mostly intrigued. Ash stands and moves to the side to let the other two get a good look at her work.

“Ash Clarke,” she offers her hand, smiling brightly trying to hide her nerves, “but most people around here call me Rocket; it’s a nickname turned professional name, you know how it goes,” she explains without being prompted, as if reading off a script. Elton grins at her.

“Elton John, lovely to meet you, Miss Rocket, I have to say it’s good to put a name to the brains behind some of Freddie’s pieces I’ve come to really envy,” he tells her, and Ash can feel herself turning bright red at the compliment.

“Thank you,” she tells him, her smile growing more bashful, still a little starstruck, “it’s lovely to meet you too.”

“You- you made all of these?” The other man asks, eyes bright as he looks up from where he’s been flicking through her portfolio. Ash drops Elton’s hand, and the singer turns to join his friend in looking through the book.

“Every design in there had to be made from scratch; it’s not as if you’re going to get Freddie Mercury’s look in Biba,” she laughs a little, gaze drifting as she scratches at the back of her neck, considering “I’m not exactly worried about time or effort in terms of construction; hand sewing a sequinned jumpsuit was pretty much my Everest.”

“We’ll see about that,” Elton says, and there’s an excited look in his eyes, and Ash pauses for a moment, before letting her grin turn a little sharp as she looks back at him.

“If anyone could give me a challenge, it’d probably be you.”

And the moment her work becomes her focus, any indication of her earlier nervousness evaporates. When she greets Bernie, there’s a confidence in the way she holds herself, the firmness of her handshake, something in her smile he can’t quite identify.

Once they’re all introduced, Ash stands between the pair looking over her folio, walking them through designs, the intricacies of each piece’s construction; her voice is strong and her explanations are concise, though she’ll add amusing asides here and there. Before the half an hour meeting is up, Elton’s already agreed to take her on as his designer, and head dresser for the tour.

“I prefer to travel with my more intricate work,” Ash admits, a little awkwardly, but Elton’s already all but agreed.

After everyone’s in agreement, a consultation has been arranged for Ash and Elton to go through some initial ideas, and Ash has signed onto the tour, she’s packed up all her things and is ready to head out. Reid’s office is in a very large, very fancy EMI building, and while Elton stays to talk with his manager, Bernie offers to walk her out, lest she get lost.

“How’d you come to work with Queen?” He asks, smiling goodnaturedly. The softness about his eyes reminds her a little of John.

“I met Fred in uni, he’s like a brother to me,” Ash admits, though it’s a little hesitant, there’s a tightness in her own smile, and she avoids his gaze, “I’ve been working with them for about three-to-four years,” she paused, “dunno, just sort of fell into it, I guess.” She paused for a very, very long moment, before finally turning, slowing down to an actual stop. “You’re the songwriter, aren’t you?” After a beat, she frowned, amending, “like, I know you both write songs, but you’re- that’s what you do for the mostpart.”

Bernie blinked a few times, taking a moment to process all of what she’d said, amid the flurry of her accent, and found himself smiling, nodding as he actually took a moment to consider the woman before him.

“Yes, I write the words, Elton writes the music,” after a beat, his smile grew wider, “that’s generally how it’s worked out.”

“Well judging by the end product, it’s worked out quite well.” Ash’s voice was surprisingly fond, and Bernie agrees, laughing, and then they’re heading off again, and he’s asking her if she had a favourite song.

“I mean, I do, I have a few, but they’re...” she hesitated, bouncing down the stairs to the ground floor, “most of them, well, they’re a bit tragic now, old memories and such; I don’t listen to them a lot anymore,” she found herself admitting.

“Can I ask what they were anyways?” And Bernie sounds genuinely curious. Ash makes a noise that sounds caught between a hum and a laugh, but Bernie holds up a hand, amusement shining in his eyes when she looks over his eyes, “can I take a guess and say one of them was Tiny Dancer?”

Ash laughs, nodding, though she’s also turning pink.

“The kicker is that I can’t dance to save my life, haven’t got a musical bone in my body,” they’re passing reception, and Ash waves to the woman behind the counter who smiles and waves at her in return, “but Rog was always adamant that the rest of the song was close enough that it didn’t matter.” Her words are fond but then her expression is twisting, falling once they step outside and her mind has caught on a memory; the reason she doesn’t listen to the song anymore, Bernie thinks. He goes to apologise, but then she’s smiling brightly at him, waiving it off and hopping down the front steps of the building.

She tells him it was lovely to meet him, so honest and bright, and he wonders if it was a trick of the light, her momentary scowl. He returns the sentiment in kind and tells her he looks forward to their next meeting. Ash’s smile grows wider, and then she’s off, easy for his eye to follow, all red and gold and ginger, like a flame through the sea of beige pants and slate grey sidewalks. Certainly she’s interesting, but he’s not quite sure what to think.

By the time he’s back in the office, though he’s sure to knock first, knowing Elton and Reid’s situation, he asks about her. Elton, ever the gossip, has already extracted from Reid everything he knows about the girl, within reason.

The most scandalous gossip is always what Elton starts with, and it only takes a single sentence for the earlier interaction to start making more sense to Bernie.

“Well I knew I knew her from somewhere; she’s been in and around the tabloids in the past few years, dating Roger Taylor and all,” Elton leans back, smiling to himself; the gossip’s not malicious, it’s more like he’s proud of himself for solving some sort of riddle. It’s obvious he likes her well enough, is excited to work with her, is excited to work with someone who has the talent to match his ideas.

They meet with her weekly; Elton because he’s the one she’s designing for, Reid because he’s Elton’s manager the same way Paul is Queen’s; in charge of the day-to-day, and Bernie because, well, because he can be, because he wants to be. Ash doesn’t complain, he’s good company.

They go over concepts at a coffee shop, and she’s dressed down from the last time they saw her. Her hair’s tied back, late and a little frantic, sketchbook in hand when she bursts in. There’s paint on her clothes and graphite on her fingertips, and loose pieces of thread littered all over her shirt if anyone looked hard enough.

She doesn’t give an excuse, just jumps straight into the ideas she had, opening her sketchbook to a page covered in designs and colours, telling them she’d have fabric samples after taking measurements.

She’s chaotic; a flurry of movement and colour, and a much thicker accent than Reid, exploding with ideas, and so enthusiastic about the ideas that Elton brings in turn. She’d rather write her address on a napkin than rip out a page of her notebook, and something about that is so endearing.

“Sorry, I know this isn’t usually how designers work,” she says, finally taking a moment to sip at the coffee she’d ordered on arrival, making a face at how lukewarm and unpleasant it was, “I’m just used to being far more hands on with my clients,” after a beat, she considered her words, before her expression wrinkles and she turns an entertaining shade of pink. “Professionally,” she picked her words carefully, “I like to establish a close and respectful relationship with my clients; I consider the people I work with to be friends.” She explains, and is thankful when no-one questions her on that.

Bernie’s the first to show up, a week later at the address she’d given them all, and it comes as a slight surprise to find that it’s not a studio, that it’s just her flat. She answers the door in practically the same clothes as she’d been wearing the last time she saw him, but with a grin adorning her face, looking far less hurried.

While she sets about making tea, he takes the moment to look around her apartment, picking his way past the reams of fabric leaning against every piece of furniture it seemed. There’s a selection of photos on her mantle, most notably, a slightly faded photograph of a younger-looking Ash, and Freddie Mercury, in front of the ocean. Most of her photos are of Queen members, though there’s a few of what he thinks is a band, though he doesn’t recognise them, the woman Ash is standing beside is stark naked, grinning and covered in body paint. There’s one, face down, and when he picks it up, he sees Ash asleep on Queen’s Roger Taylor, the two of them crammed into what Bernie recognises as a tour bus sofa; it’s labelled Osaka ‘72. It’s surprisingly intimate. He feels like he’s intruding. Something tightens in Bernie’s chest at the sight of it, and he puts it back down, wants to pretend like he never saw it, but turning back, he sees Ash watching him, quiet, leaning against her kitchen counter with two mugs in front of her.

“Sorry, I should have cleaned up.” Her voice is soft as she picks up the mugs, bringing one over to him where he’s floundering, babbling out apologies for intruding, though she doesn’t seem to be listening. Instead, she stands beside him, shoulder brushing his, looking at the rest of the photos.

“That one’s from our first year-” she picks up the one of herself and Freddie, “felt like we were the only two not straight out of high school, us old dogs had to stick together.”

This takes Bernie by surprise, who hadn’t thought much about how old she was, though when he thinks about it, he’d assumed she was younger than him, but perhaps that was just her height. It turns out he’s younger than her by just under a year; she’d just turned twenty-six.

Elton and Reid turn up not long after, and she sets about making them tea also, before she starts taking Elton’s measurements. While she’s writing and sketching, she hands him a thick box of fabrics, and tells him to go through it, pick out some textures and colours he likes and that he thinks would work.

What a strange juxtaposition she presents herself as; endlessly patient and understanding with everyone around her, but always hurrying herself, wanting to do more, trying to push herself, challenge herself. Bernie can’t deny that he’s coming to quite like her.

In the months leading up to the album release and tour, they’re at her flat almost once a week, once a fortnight if they’re busy, but it becomes a familiar location. Ash is casual about it, insisting that suits would be overdressed, and so, even for Reid, it becomes a small sanctuary from the hectic life they’ve all been leading. Despite this, she’s always been a bit wary of Reid, not enough to have it effect their business, but every time she sees him in a suit, it seems to set her on edge; the moment he starts showing up in jeans and t-shirts, she seems far more comfortable. Sometimes they bring takeout, and Ash yells when Elton eats in costume, but she always relents ‘just this once’, every time.

They swap anecdotes, and the three men come to realise that Ash was a lot closer with Queen than anyone else seems to know, and she in turn learns of Elton and Reid’s relationship. There’s a moment of nervousness, of hesitation after the confession spills from Elton’s lips, even Bernie is tense. After a beat, Ash sits back from where she’d been bent over her sewing machine.

“It doesn’t bother me, I’m in a similar boat after all, in terms of,” she flushes a little, gesturing vaguely to herself, though she’s facing away from them, hair hiding most of her face. There’s a new tension in the room now, “but I don’t have much of a preference,” she admitted, before laughing a little, looking back at them where they’ve taken up her sofa and armchair, “but honestly after everything I went through with Rog, I admire that you’ve kept it so discrete.” After this, she actually seems less tense around Reid, even when he’s wearing a suit, though Bernie’s not sure the others have even noticed.

Bernie finds her fascinating, will show up early just to talk while she will be sewing, or pinning, or embroidering, always doing something, always keeping busy. In turn, he’d started bringing his notebook, working on lyrics. They’d fall into companionable silence, working away at their respective tasks before Reid and Elton would show up and the noise would pick up again.

“Dude, how in the hell did you manage to tear this?”

Bernie arrives in time to see Ash holding what looks like it could be a shirt, gazing despairingly at Brian May, who just shrugged at her question. After a beat, she shook her head.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she sighed, taking a seat at her sewing machine, and greeting Bernie with a weary smile, “when do you need this by?” She asks Brian, who’s frowning in confusion at Bernie. The confusion is mutual. “Brian.”

“Saturday?”

“It’ll take me twenty minutes, can you make me a tea?” She sighs, and he’s happy to oblige. Once introduced, Bernie and Brian get on well, chatting idly about music and touring, and when Bernie mentions taking Ash on tour, Brian looks both surprised and amused, and before Ash can even open her mouth to protest, Brian’s already giving a wry yet vague warning about keeping an eye on her on tour. Before he can even finish she’s threatening to destroy his shirt, and that’s enough to shut him up.

Banter and teasing quips flow between them and it becomes obvious that they’re old friends through and through. Brian mentions that Freddie’s been whining without her around, and Ash gives a wry smile, calls Freddie a sook, and informs Brian that Freddie had been by the apartment only two days ago. She asks about how John Deacon was going with his girlfriend, and Brian’s smile turns fond as he catches her up. It doesn’t escape Bernie’s notice how they avoid talking about Roger.

Once the shirt’s fixed, Ash presents it with pride, and Brian takes her face in his hands, kissing her forehead and calling her a legend. Ash’s answering smile is toothy. Silence filled the little flat once Brian had left, as Ash leaned her head onto her desk with faint exasperation, her cheeks flushed.

“So, Miss Rocket,” Bernie leaned back in her armchair, mischief glinting in his eyes as he crosses his arms. He doesn’t call her that much anymore, but she’s not objecting to the nickname as much as she is this line of questioning he’s about to go down, “what exactly did you get up to on tour that it warrants a warning from Brian May?” There’s a teasing edge to his words and Ash actually gives pause, before looking up, cheeks still dusted with a faint blush.

“It’s not suitable for polite company,” her smile is sharp, amusement sparkling in her eyes, and Bernie laughs.

“Sweet of you to call me polite company-” but they’re cut short but Elton bursting in, asking if Brian May had just been here.

Something about Ash’s relationship with Bernie had shifted that day, subtly, almost imperceptibly, but they both knew it had. Perhaps it was the solidarity of being close to someone in the spotlight, or the solidarity of everyone knowing your work but no-one knowing your name. Perhaps it was simpler than that.

Now, not that anyone noticed enough to make mention of it, when she wasn’t at her sewing machine or fitting Elton, more often than not she was by his side. Even at the photoshoot Reid had set up to get a look at the costumes under lights, Ash found herself coming to stand beside Bernie. Initially it had been to ask his opinion, but she’d then just stayed there, frowning at Elton with her tongue poking out just as little as she tried to think about what else the outfit might need.

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” There’s pride in Bernie’s voice, and Ash hums distractedly, playing with the box of safety pins in her hand while Elton posed with a piano. His jacket was beautifully ostentatious, with big, furry shoulder pieces that somehow managed to distract from his tight, sequinned pants. It’s quite a look.

“Do you think it needs something?” She asks, tipping her head to the side.

“I wouldn’t know,” Bernie says after a moment, before humming, “it’s quite fetching though, God knows only he could pull it off.” Ash laughs a little at that, but her frown deepens.

“Elton,” she calls out, and the singer’s attention immediately snaps to her, “you think it needs anything else?”

“A hat.” He answers, without missing a beat, and Ash’s face lights up like he’s given her the secrets to life, the universe, and everything.

“Of course!”

Once the photoshoot is over, Elton makes mention that they’re going out for drinks, makes a point to invite her, and Ash hesitates for a moment, but agrees, so long as she can stop by her flat to change. Halfway to her front door, arms laden down with garment bags, she turns back to the Rolls Royce the other three are crammed into, and asks where they’re getting drinks at a volume that’s probably louder than necessary. After a moment, the window is rolled down, and Elton’s smiling face is looking at her, telling her to wear whatever she’d wear out with Freddie, for context. Ash nods very seriously, tells him she won’t be long.

It only takes her five minutes before she’s crashing from her front door, a pair of enormous, black platformed go-go boots in hand, wearing a black, sequinned, sleeveless shirt, and brown, corduroy, high-waisted shorts. When she makes her way into the car, she’s too distracted trying to pull on her boots to notice where Elton was instructing the driver to go, or how Bernie was pointedly looking at anything but Ash.

Thankfully, Elton had taken the middle seat in the back, and was currently fawning over the sequinned shirt, and he and Ash got into a conversation that essentially amounted to complaining about the texture of wearing sequins, but loving how they felt from the outside. When Elton asks Bernie his thoughts, the man in question stumbled over his answer, gaze fixed out the window.

“He hasn’t got the same eye for fashion,” Elton stage whispered to Ash, who couldn’t help but giggle.

“That’s not his fault, people like him can get away with owning one leather jacket because they always look good in it,” she says blithely; Elton’s eyebrows raise with amusement, and Bernie’s grinning, turning pink about the ears.

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” Reid finally chimes in from the front seat, and Ash, who has no interest in being embarrassed or playing coy, smiles, and says without hesitation that it is.

With her boots on, she’s about the same height as Bernie, though both of them are still dwarfed by Elton in platforms of his own, and with Reid in tow, the four of them make their way into one of the hottest clubs London has to offer.

Elton boos when she says she doesn’t like drinking, but cheers when she agrees to cocaine, and boos again once she’s snorted a few lines, and rubbed the remains on her gums, and adamantly refuses to dance.

“So no drinking but a strong yes to coke?” Bernie laughs, sitting beside her in the booth. They’re shoulder to shoulder despite the ample room surrounding them, and he’s got a beer in front of him; Elton and Reid have already disappeared. Ash is surprised Reid even agreed to come out.

“I don’t hate who I am on coke,” Ash says, far too honestly, but she’s still smiling as if she hadn’t been painfully personal, “and I don’t black out on it; I like remembering my nights.” She elbows him, a teasing edge to her words and her grin. He can’t help but laugh, tipping his head back against the wall.

“I thought you’d rather someone more... exciting. Adventurous. Someone to give you nights worth remembering,” he hears himself saying, “not to say that I’m not fun,” he amended quickly, “but I’m no Roger Taylor-”

“Thank fuck for that,” she chuckles humorlessly, “you know, I’m so fucking sick of people assuming what I want; who I deserve, who I’m perfect for, according to them,” her jaw tightens, looking out at the dance floor, and Bernie can’t help but frown, turning to look at her, “listen, if you want to keep things professional, just say the word. But for the record,” she turned to look at him, meeting his gaze, expression serious, “out of everyone I could possibly be with in this moment, I’d rather you.”

Bernie doesn’t give himself time to hesitate, to deliberate, so he kisses her, his lips soft against hers, his hand coming to cup her jaw and pull her closer. She moves with him, pressing herself closer to his side, leaning in to his touch. When they break apart, he doesn’t drop his hold on her face, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. She’s not smiling, though neither is he, both looking at the other as if waiting for the other’s reaction, both even a little bewildered.

“You’re lovely,” Ash murmurs, eyes wide, “you’re so lovely and it makes me actually so nervous.” She admits, and Bernie can feel himself smiling.

“What?” He snorts, and Ash is turning pink. suddenly bashful, as if she’s regretting saying it.

“I can be such an asshole, I keep asking myself how I’ve tricked you into this,” she tells him, but she doesn’t look away, can’t bring herself to. His expression actually turns soft.

“You haven’t, and you aren’t,” he tells her fondly, and Ash finally ducks her head, moving out of his grip, her smile surprisingly vulnerable. "You're very smooth, though; 'I'd rather you'? How was I meant to resist that, not that I wanted to."

“I get... sappy when," she hums thoughtfully, "intoxicated." But her expression falls a little, "you don’t know me that well,” but she’s not moving away from him, though she’s sitting forward, looking out at the dancefloor.

“Well I think I’d like to.”

They don’t stay at the club long, it’s too hot, too crowded, too loud, and in different situations they’d both be enjoying it, but tonight doesn’t feel like that kind of night. They mill about the streets of London until they find a twenty-four hour cafe, and though it’s dingy, it feels perfect. They drink terribly brewed tea and talk and laugh until Ash is coming down from her high, and she’s still nervous, but not hesitant. She hasn’t felt nervous like this for a long time, and it’s a welcome feeling, if she’s being honest.

He walks her home, kisses her at the door to her flat building, and grins as he watches her head inside, a little giddy.

The next morning, Ash lies in bed, staring at her ceiling, stomach ice cold and full of anxiety, wracked with worry that he didn’t mean it, that he thinks she didn’t mean it. But around midday, she gets a call.

“How are you holding up?” On the other end of the line, Bernie’s voice is warm.

“Pretty alright,” she’s smiling, shifting in her dressing gown and fluffy slippers, heart quickly warming as if exposed to sunlight, “how about you?” There’s a long pause, before Bernie’s quiet, hesitant laughter.

“I’m great. Do you want to grab dinner?”

They’re not dating, not if anyone asks, and it’s easy to be discrete while in London. For the first time in a long time Ash realises she doesn’t have to worry about people gossiping and speculating; she’d be lying if she said she didn’t relish it.

At first the people around them seem none the wiser; Ash is always busy, always on the move, so it’s easy for people to see her with him and not think anything of it. Perhaps their respective, standoffish nature makes it easier to fool everyone around them; they haven’t known each other long enough to be comfortable with casual contact in front of other people, even things that could be construed as platonic.

But then he shows up early to the final fitting, something Ash had come to expect. For the first time since he’s known her, her flat is actually clean, relatively speaking; she’s got rows of clothes racks around the room, each bursting with sequins and feathers and more colours than you can shake a stick at, and headdresses line practically every flat surface in the living room, with a few even lined up in the corners, but there’s no giant reams of fabric leaning against the sofa or the wall, her sewing machine sits idle and clean on the desk in the back corner. It takes him a little while to realise, but he sort of misses the clutter.

Ash herself is wearing jeans and knitted sweater that’s too big for her, offering tea around a yawn she can’t quite bite back on this early Sunday morning. Something about it, perhaps the sleepy way she blinks after she finishes the question, has Bernie’s mind stalling for just a moment.

“Bern?” She asks gently, and his mind snaps out of it; she’s already holding two mugs in anticipation, slight frown creasing her forehead in confusion. Bernie smiles, can’t help himself, bright and fond.

“Tea would be lovely,” he agrees, and makes his way over to the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. He turns, leaning against it to survey the now strangely unfamiliar living room. The kettle clicks on, and he can hear the busy London street outside, but it's a haze, like sunlight filtering in through the curtains, not quite distinct, but surprisingly comforting.

"How long have you been here?" He asks idly, crossing his arms and Wat hing over his shoulder as she adds sugar and teabags to the mugs.

"A few years," she muses, before leaving the cups be and waiting for the kettle to boil. Maneuvering around, she gently touches his arm as she passes, making a beeline for the sofa and flopping onto it, petting the seat beside her invitingly, "actually it was my first place after uni, if you don't count friends' couches," she laughs, moving automatically to tuck herself up beside him. His leather jacket is sun-warmed from being outside, and Ash hums appreciatively. Resting her cheek on his shoulder, looking at the rows of feather and pomped headdresses on the coffee table before them.

"Seems rather small for a studio space and your home."

"It gets the job done," Ash turns, rests her chin on his shoulder, and when he turns back to her, faint fondness in his eyes, she realises how close they are, "I'm a creature of habit." Her voice is so soft, but she's smiling, leaning in, and Bernie's got a hand on her cheek, kissing her softly as the kettle starts to whistle behind them.

There's a beat, a moment, Ash sighs heavily at being interrupted and rests her forehead against his for a moment. Bernie chuckles, presses a kiss to her forehead.

"I've got it," he assures, waiving off her protests, "no, I've been here enough times," he assures, "I think I can handle two cups of tea."

He moves like he knows the kitchen by the back of his hand, and Ash watches in fond awe as he finishes fixing them both tea. When it arrives, it even tastes almost perfect, and Ash, who'd curled up on the sofa, takes her drink with a murmured 'thanks' moving her legs over his as he rifled through the satchel by his side.

As Ash stretches, reaches down the other side of the sofa to grab one of the books stacked there, she feels herself slipping into a moment of sweet domesticity, something she hadn't realised she would be able to enjoy so soon.

"You working on anything interesting?" Three minutes after trying to read, she feels her skin start to itch, and the closes her book definitively. The scratching of Bernie's pen against his notebook is a painfully familiar sound for reasons that don't involve the sweet lyricist before her, and she enjoys domesticity as much as the next person, but she's got no project of her own; she doesn't like being idle.

"I'm always working on something interesting, it's just whether or not the label will see it that way," he mused, frowning at his notebook. Something about his concentration was so endearing, but they'd been taking it slow, both because Ash was so used to her relationships starting physical with feelings coming into the mix later, but she didn't want Bernie to think that all she wanted from him was sex. She just wanted to prove that she could take things slow, that she could care about the people she slept with before she slept with them.

But that jacket and his jeans and the way he'd been smiling at her had her feeling some type of way.

“You alright?” His voice brings her back to reality, and his hand where it’s resting on her knee is warm. Ash gives him a smile as sincere as she can manage, pushes all less than pure thoughts from her head; Elton and Reid would be arriving in less than an hour after all.

“What are you doing after this?”

“Not sure, didn’t really have any plans; why?” Bernie’s smiling slightly, and Ash tips her head to the side.

“I was thinking about visiting the Tate,” Ash sits up further, Bernie raises an eyebrow, intrigued. This thumb is brushing small circles against her knee.

“The art gallery?”

“No, the pizza place- yes the art gallery!” Ash laughs, leaning the side of her head against the back of the sofa, “they’ve-” she pauses for a moment, a little self conscious, like she’s sharing too much of herself to be saying this all out loud, “they’ve got a Pre-Raphaelite exhibition at the moment that I’ve been dying to see.” She admits. After a beat, her green-eyed gaze turns a little hopeful, “do you think you’d maybe like to come along?”

Bernie’s constantly surprised and delighted about the little things he keeps learning about her, and this is no different. He agrees easily.

The fitting goes well; it takes a while, obviously, with all the options she’s prepared, but Elton seems thrilled by the end of it, excited for the tour to start, and though Ash grumbles about getting all the outfits into garment bags and packing crates, she’s clearly very excited too. She and Elton bounce off of each other so well, her energy matching his the moment she’s focused on her work.

Bernie wonders if he has a type, regarding the people he cares about. He doesn’t think about it too hard.

She turns starry-eyed at the sight of Ophelia, and takes Bernie’s hand where they’re standing shoulder to shoulder in the gallery.

“She’s always here,” Ash clarifies quickly, coming back down to earth, “but she’s always so lovely.” She laughs and it’s a little awed. As the afternoon progresses, he comes to find that she’s a lot more invested in this than he’d realised. They float through the Pre-Raphaelite exhibition, with Ash making comment at every other work, and Bernie marvels at the art, at the gentleness of the figures, and their striking realism despite this.

“Spite is such a wonderful motivator,” Ash says with a knowing fondness, though her words startle a laugh from Bernie. Ash turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, “I mean it! The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, the group of artists who painted all of these, they formed in opposition of Raphael, and what was popular at the time artistically-”

“How do you know all this?” Bernie cuts her off, and Ash’s mouth snaps shut, frown adorning her brow for the barest moment.

“I studied it.”

"Double degree in fashion and art?" He nudges her shoulder but Ash's mood seems to have already soured.

"No, the fashion one was my second go; I started with Art History." She's fidgeting now, playing with his and like she's moments away from dropping it. But then he's giving her hand a gentle squeeze, asking what happened; when she looks at him, she's weary, looking, for a beat, half a second, far older than her age, "essentially," she begins, though her voice is painfully flat, as flat as her gaze is shallow, "I was expelled."

"Oh," he frowns, just slightly, takes the moment to process this information, to file it alongside everything else about her, seeing how it all fit together. Obviously it wasn't even close to being the whole story, but he didn't like the way the topic seemed to upset Ash, so he changed it.

"Which is your favorite, then?" He asked, tugging her gently into the next room, his voice light. At Ash's confusion, he smiled, "I'm sure you've seen enough art to pick a favorite piece."

"The Lacemaker;" Ash doesn't even give time to pass and think, the answer tumbling from her lips. She turns pink at her own enthusiasm. Bernie merely raises his eyebrow in question, and is rewarded by Ash waxing poetic about the tiny, beautiful piece hanging in the Louvre, the way the light's painted, the concentration on the woman's face, the attention to detail-

"I don't know why," actually a little breathless by the time she stops rambling about it, she's realised they're both sitting on a sofa in the lobby, having viewed the full exhibition by now. With both her hands on his knees, she hadn't realised how intense she had gotten until she realises how close they are, "she just takes my breath away." Ash murmurs, voice dropping to contrast how exuberantly she'd been singing the work's praises moments ago.

"You sound like you really love this painting."

There's a moment in time that follows, her gaze tracing his every feature, and he wonders what she sees in him, or even if she sees him at all. Lips twisting a little at that, a sharp shard of insecurity pierces his heart, his mind, as he wonders if she sees him or if she's -

Her smile is so gentle, so sincere, and her hand comes up to ghost along the side of his face.

"Art's very easy to love." She says it like its a fact, and perhaps for her it is. Bernie doesn't read into it, just lets go of the moment of insecurity and lets it fade quickly as Ash kisses him.

As it turned out, they weren't being as discrete as they had assumed; on the plane to Japan, the first leg of the tour, Bernie's asleep on the plane and Elton calls Ash over, looking pensive. Ash, who had been idly reading, a few seats away, no where near either Elton or Bernie, is confused for about three seconds before she gets to the musician himself, and he doesn't play coy with what he wants to talk about.

"I know you and Bernie are seeing each other," Elton's tone is surprisingly level, though Ash's stomach drops. "Don't try and deny it-"

"I wouldn't. Deny it, that is," she's quick to clarify, taking the seat opposite him. Elton gives her a small smile.

"I'm not going to tell you not to, or anything like that, he seems quite happy, as do you, and I like you well enough; you both deserve to be happy, of course," but he pauses, his light smile shifting to something more serious, more sinister, "but he means the absolute world to me, you understand? And if you hurt him, I- I'll-" he struggles to find the words, the threat, but it comes through loud and clear. Ash, however, reaches out, rests her hand on Elton's where it's pressed flat against the table between them.

"He's... he's good, isn't he?" And she's not asking it as if asking if he's alright.

"He's the best." Elton confirms with a gentle smile, relaxing a little. "He's not a saint, but honestly he's better than I deserve most of the time."

Honestly, it feels like Elton's given his blessing, in a roundabout way, and Ash wonders if Freddie would give Bernie the same speech if he found out. Ash is grateful, however, as the idea of keeping up the charade on tour had been stressing her out.

After the first show of the tour, they all go out for drinks at a bar where no-one speaks English and their translator is almost overwhelmed at their exuberance. They sit around a coffee table, a set of armchairs and sofas for Elton and his entourage, and Ash sits in Bernie's lap. It's easy, it's strangely casual, his hand on her thigh as he rambles how well the show went.

Drinks flow freely and drugs are passed around and when Elton asks, Ash will dance, will dance badly, but in that moment she's without shame, because to see such genuine smiles from the people she's come to consider friends, consider something more as is the case with Bernie, it makes it all worth it.

When she comes back, flush and grinning, and sees the way Bernie's smiling, fond and amused at the spectacle she'd made of herself, she feels that want that she'd been so carefully controlling flare to life.

"The irony of my employment in the music industry does not escape me," she laughs, breathless where she resumes her place in his lap, curling an arm around his shoulders.

"No idea what you mean," he responded loftily, hand on her thigh, pulling her closer to him, "just wondering dear, what song were you dancing to, because I don't think it was the one the club was playing."

The way she laughs, it lights up the room, at least for him, and for just a moment, the excitement of the night, the thrill of another country, the liberation provided from the booze and blow, it all coalesces into one ecstatic high.

"Let's get out of here," his voice drops low, his grip on her thigh tightening, "we can spend every other night partying with the rest of them." He actually nips at her neck and it's all the convincing Ash needs before she's getting to her feet, offering her hand and biting her lip.

"Lead the way."

Bernie's a nice person, well he likes to think he's a nice person, and he doesn't like to make assumptions about people, so, a few days later, when he again asked Ash what Brian had been warning him about, he hadn't expected her to show him.

"You're a writer; show don't tell, isn't that a rule?" She smirks, pinning Elton's headdress in place and petting the rockstar on the shoulder. Bernie's quickly turning pink at the mere implication of her offer, murmuring about how it's a different sort of writing, but Ash just presses a kiss to Elton's cheek, "alright, my work's done, I'm going to go debase myself in a closet." It's so blasé that Elton laughs, wishes her luck.

Though it's outwardly teasing, when she gets to Bernie himself, her expression turns soft. He looks pleased, actually, his blush fading fast, seems eager to be lead into the nearest empty room or closet. Ash is always sweet with him, always taking time and checking in to make sure he's alright, which Bernie appreciates; he can tell at times that he's not what she's used to, but she adapts. But he learns too; learns to pull her hair and kiss her rough, to dig his nails in but also to hold her close in the quiet moments after, because she says she doesn't know how music works but her whimpers and moans are their own kind of melody.

A girl like Ash would never be a forever for him, and they both knew this. She was the girl he could still work with even after sleeping with her, she’s the girl he can delude himself to thinking he’s in love with for the tour, she’s the girl who will smile at him the next time Reid brings her in like nothing ever happened. But she’s too much like Elton, with bigger dreams than he can rightly comprehend, and he’s sure she’d leave him in the dust if she had to... not that he thinks that about Elton.

Their relationship has a timer.

It started ticking down the moment he asks about what would happen after the tour, and Ash can't meet his gaze.

He thinks he might always remember that afternoon, the two of them enjoying a day off in bed together, the sky outside overcast, though it didn't matter because the room was heated to a be comfortable against their bare skin. Bernie's on his side, shooting for idle when he asks, his fingers ghosting over her skin, as if mapping the plane of her back, each divot and muscle and vertebrae. Ash is on her stomach, holding her pillow beneath her head, half her face smushed into it, watching him through out half-closed eye.

"I'll probably go back into project mode-" she starts.

"As soon as we get back? No down time between tours?" He asks, fingers ghosting up and down her bare spine. Ash gives a hollow laugh.

"I'm always on the move," is all the response she offers before continuing on, "Freddie managed to call me while we were in New York; they've finished a new album and he's honestly begging to have me back." She paused, her smile fond and faraway, "he calls it 'A Night At The Opera', keeps calling it his magnum opus."

"A man like Freddie, seems a bit soon to call it that," Bernie laughs, and Ash finally meets his gaze, something in her chest tightening at the easy, kind fondness that seems to spi from him.

"He's bound to have at least another eight in the coming decade," she agrees, but then her expression fades and she shifts, presses her face further into the pillow, as if trying to make herself smaller.

"I- Bern," with her voice so small and vulnerable, he can't help but frown a little, concerned. His hand stills, comes to rest at the small of her back, "I don't know what's going to happen with us." She admits, "I-" the words catch in her her throat, so he steps in.

"Ash, I love you but I don't think I could keep up," and she can tell it hurts a little for him to say it, like he's giving her an out even if his heart's not entirely in it, "you're the Rocket, love, always on the move." A few seconds pass, and Ash's expression falls.

"Burning out my fuse up here, alone." She murmurs, forlorn. The lyrics hang in the air between them, but as soon as he process what she says, what she means, how she's spiralling, he pulls her into his arms, holding her close.

"I'm sorry," she's hugging him back, her cheek resting on his chest, "I'm so sorry."

"No need to apologise," he assures, "let's just enjoy it while it lasts." He pauses, holding her just a little tighter, a lump forming in his throat, "and you'll never be alone, Ash, there's always be people who love you; Elton and I are just two of them, I promise."

Ash is quiet for a very long moment before she moves, propping herself up, finally meeting his gaze, her own full of adoration. After a beat, she breaks out into a disbelieving smile.

"You're good, you know that?" She half laughs, "much better than I deserve," shaking her head, she talks before he can form a response or protest, "I love you, and I think I'll always love you, in one way or another; is that weird to say? We haven't known each other that long if you think about it," already she's back to sounding like her old self, and Bernie's laughing, pulling her back into his arms.

"No, I get it; I love you too."

#bernie taupin #bernie taupin imagine #bernie taupin x oc #rocketman imagine #the angry lizard writes

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hunnywrites · 4 years

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Arcade Dreams: Chapter Twenty One

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: It’s a Thanksgiving miracle I’ve finally finished the chapter. I’m sorry this is so late! We’re heading into the summer of ‘85 now, but don’t worry! I’ll be writing a few chapters of Chasing Yesterday to fill in the spaces between Billy and Teddi moving in together and now. I just didn’t want things to feel too clunky. This chapter also ends a tad awkwardly, but I’m breaking it into two parts so the chapters don’t get too long. Hope you enjoy!

The Hawkins public pool was packed to the brim with people. As Teddi hopped out of her van and made her way through the parking lot, the sound of splashing, kids yelling and laughing and the Power of Love playing on someone’s boombox nearby grew louder and louder. Today was her day off, but since everyone she knew was working Teddi decided laying out by the pool was probably a better decision than staying home and watching Star Trek reruns all day.

Teddi made her way inside the gates, passing the bulletin board that read “Meet our ‘85 swim season lifeguards’ in large yellow letters. Teddi’s photo was between Heather and Billy’s. Her hair was longer than it had been when she moved to Hawkins and no longer platinum. Heather had helped her dye it a more natural, golden, honey blonde at the beginning of the summer. The silver ring that had been through her right nostril had been replaced with a thin gold ring that Billy had gotten her simply to match the small gold hoop that was in his ear now (the silver dangly earring Billy had been wearing before was now in Teddi’s ear). Teddi was smiling brightly at the camera, which was a stark contrast from the cool, almost bored expression that was on Billy’s face in his photo.

“Hey, Katie.” she said with a smile as she passed by the front desk. Katie was sitting with her feet up on the counter and a magazine in her lap. Katie threw a wave in Teddi’s direction, not bothering to look up. Heather was perched up in the lifeguard’s chair, glaring down at a group of kids who were running over to the diving boards. Heather waved at her before blowing her whistle at the kids loudly.

Teddi walked over to the tiny snack bar window, smiling tentatively at the girl on the other side. Cheryl Burns had gotten a job at the pool at the beginning of the summer. Initially she had applied to be a lifeguard, but had quickly changed her mind. “You mean if someone totally disgusting starts drowning or whatever I have to like...give them mouth to mouth? Gross. No thanks.” were her exact words. So Freddy had stuck her at the snack bar. She of course hated it.

Cheryl’s strawberry blonde hair sat high up on her head in a ponytail. She brushed her feathered bangs out of her eyes, her eyebrows raising expectantly at Teddi. “...Coke, please.” Teddi squeaked out. Cheryl was an intimidating girl, and she knew it. Sometimes Teddi was certain that Cheryl enjoyed making her nervous.

Cheryl set down the can of coke in front of Teddi, sneering at it in disgust. “I don’t know how you drink that shit,” she jabbed one of her long, painted nails at the “New Coke” logo. “They totally ruined it.” she held her out towards Teddi.

Teddi dropped her change into Cheryl’s hand. “It’s not that bad...you get used to it.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “I’d rather shove old man Myers’ speedo in my mouth,” she scoffed, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. Cheryl was also the most dramatic person Teddi had ever met. Cheryl looked back at the red clock on the wall behind her, a smirk forming on her lips as she leaned forward. “Here comes lover boy,” she said in a sweet, sing songy tone, nodding her head towards the locker rooms.

Teddi turned just as Billy was walking out. While Teddi enjoyed the summer time, Billy came alive in it. It brought out the Cali boy in him like flowers that bloomed with the warm weather. His sandy blonde hair had turned a few shades lighter in the sun. His skin was a deep, golden bronze. Billy had gotten a new air of confidence about him ever since he’d move out, but now it was something different. Something that Teddi wasn’t the only one to notice.

Karen Wheeler and a few of the other moms showed up to the pool every day around mid afternoon for Billy’s shift. They weren’t very secretive about it either. Heather would climb down from the lifeguard chair and each of them would start adjusting their swimsuits and makeup while they waited for Billy to come out.

“Look at them,” Cheryl scoffed. “It’s so gross how they’re all drooling over him. I mean, Karen has a kid his age. And like he’d want some dried up old hag anyways,” she said with an eye roll. “You should go over there and like french him or something and tell that tacky bitch to back off. I mean, who the fuck wears a pearl necklace to a pool?”

Teddi couldn’t help but laugh. She pulled her eyes from Billy, turning back to Cheryl. “Cheryl, do you always have to be so...blunt?” she asked, taking a sip of her coke.

Cheryl pursed her glossy lips. “I’m a leo. It’s what we do,” she said matter of factly. Teddi coughed on her soda, sputtering loudly. “Jesus, Larsson. Say it, don’t spray it.” Cheryl frowned, leaning away from Teddi.

“Sorry,” Teddi cleared her throat. “Sorry...I’m gonna go. Always a pleasure chatting with you, Cheryl.” she gave the blonde an awkward salute, wincing at herself as she spun around on her heel and heading over to Billy.

Billy smirked down at Teddi as he watched her approach him, pushing his sunglasses down his nose to look at her. “You stalkin’ me, Larsson?” he teased. Teddi stepped up onto a bar at the bottom of the lifeguard chair, balancing carefully as she reached up to kiss Billy. She laughed when she felt his fingers slipping into the back of her cut off shorts, smacking his hand away. No doubt a show for the group of eyes that were glaring a hole into Teddi behind her.

“Aren’t you a little over dressed for the pool?” he asked, his hand resting on her lower back.

“Cool your jets. I’m gonna change,” she rolled her eyes. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

Billy looked at her cooly. “...Depends.”

Teddi let out a huff. “Depends on what?”

“On what you’re gonna ask me to do...and which bikini you’re wearing under there.” he was smirking again.

Teddi pulled a face, popping her hip slightly and raising an eyebrow. “Who says I’m wearing anything under this?”

Billy’s smirk twitched just slightly before he looked over the top of his glasses at her again, his eyes trained on the white crop top that was covered in little daisies that Teddi was wearing before looking back at her. “...Where am I going?”

Teddi laughed. Sometimes it was just too easy. “It’s El’s birthday tomorrow. Hop’s having a party for her at the cabin and then she and Max are sleeping over at our place.” dinner at Hopper’s cabin had become a regular weekly thing for Billy and Teddi. He’d started to invite them over after the fight between Billy and Tommy. Billy had of course been closed off to the idea at first. Teddi had gone to the cabin alone for about the first three weeks before she convinced him to join her.

“You want me to go to some 13 year old’s birthday party?” he asked.

“She’s 14 now.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh come on,” Teddi huffed. “It’ll be fun. There’s cake. How can you say no to cake?”

Billy held up his hands. “I’ll go. But don’t expect me to play pin the tail on the donkey or whatever the hell those little dorks do at parties,” he grumbled. Teddi rolled her eyes. “Speaking of birthdays...what do you wanna do for yours?”

Teddi let out a groan. Her 18th birthday was in a week and she’d been trying her damndest not to think about it. “I don’t know...do we have to do anything?”

Billy shot her a look. “If I tried that with my birthday would that work?”

Teddi sighed “No…”

“What’d you used to do back home?” he asked.

Teddi thought about it. Birthdays in her family had never really been a very big deal. Her parents hadn’t even celebrated their own unless you counted the fancy new purse her dad would buy her mother every year. “...Me and Hannah would drive into the city and we’d ride the Staten Island ferry back and forth for a few hours and smoke weed.” she finally said.

Billy laughed. “Jesus, Larsson. As fun as that sounds, you got any other ideas?”

“Well what did you do for your 18th birthday?” she asked with an irritated sigh.

Billy smirked. “Cheryl.” he said with a snort.

“Ugh. You’re disgusting,” she groaned, Billy chuckling at her. “As fun as that sounds, I think I’d rather just go to the movies or something. Maybe we can go to Starcourt and bring Max and El.” she suggested.

Billy’s smile faltered for just a moment. “Whatever you say, Birthday Girl.” he said cooly.

Teddi frowned slightly, pulling away from him. “...I’m gonna go find a lounger and read for awhile. You gonna come see me after you’re done up here?” she asked. Billy’s smile was back as he nodded and leaned in to kiss her again as if nothing had happened. Teddi hopped down, not looking at Karen and her friends as she passed them and headed for an empty chair by the pool.

She started to wonder almost obsessively about the look on Billy’s face when she suggested going to the movies as she peeled her crop top and shorts off. She knew that he was watching her strip down to her bright green bikini, but didn’t turn to look at him. Had he maybe planned something different? Was it because she wanted to go with El and Max? When it came to Billy there was really no telling what was going on in his head.

Teddi let out a heavy sigh, plopping down onto the white lounger and pulling her copy of the Fellowship of the Rings out of her bag. With her sunglasses on, she allowed herself to peek back at Billy as she pretended to read. He was watching her with a sort of confused frown before his jaw set tightly and he turned away from her.

He was definitely up to something.

---

Teddi was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, chewing on her bottom lip as she carefully folded the bright purple wrapping paper around the stack of books she’d gotten El for her birthday. Teddi had picked them out carefully. There was the Princess Bride, Alice in Wonderland and the Last Unicorn; each bound in intricate covers with a short message that Teddi had written inside each of them.

The phone started ringing as she scrawled From Teddi and Billy on the little tag she’d stuck to the wrapping paper. “I got it,” Billy called from his room. Teddi didn’t pay much attention to him. She grabbed a smaller present, wrapped in the same purple paper, and set it on top of the other, larger present. “Yeah?...Oh, yeah hi,” Billy threw a look over at Teddi before he turned from her, lowering his voice to speak to whoever was on the other end.

Teddi watched him with a frown. She grabbed the TV remote, muting the Starcourt commercial that was playing so she could hear a little better. “Just give me like...an hour. I’ll be there. Yeah. Alright, I’ll see you then.” Billy hung up. He turned, going still when he met Teddi’s eyes. She crossed her arms.

“Who was that?” she asked.

Billy shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nobody...uh, look Ted, I know I said I’d go to El’s party…”

“You’re cancelling? Billy, we were supposed to leave like ten minutes ago.” she huffed. Teddi stood, scooping the gifts into her arms.

“Something came up is all. I gotta…” he shook his head. “I just gotta be somewhere, okay? El’s not gonna give a shit that I’m not there.” his tone was starting to get a little colder. Like Teddi was accusing him of something. It only made her more suspicious.

“You know that that’s not true,” she argued. While Teddi and El had grown significantly closer over the last few months, Billy had also (begrudgingly) bonded with her much to Teddi’s surprise. “What’s going on here? You’re acting really weird. Why can’t I know where you’re going?”

She was trying to keep her tone light, playful. She even let out a little laugh at the end like she was teasing him. Billy’s jaw clenched, and Teddi’s stomach dropped. “...I gotta go. I’ll see you later. Tell El I said happy birthday.” he muttered, grabbing his keys and quickly walking out.

Teddi glared at the door. The Camaro’s engine rumbled in the distance, slowly disappearing as Billy drove off. “Of all the nights to pull this shit…” she mumbled to herself, nearly stomping over to the kitchen counter and snatching up her keys. She spent the drive back into Hawkins going over theories to herself. Teddi found herself feeling ashamed when she wondered if maybe there was someone else.

She liked to think that if Billy was cheating on her he’d hide it better. Or maybe that was just her ego. It was Billy after all. Teddi let out a heavy sigh. It had to be something else. She just had absolutely no idea what it could be.

When she arrived at the cabin she pushed Billy from her mind. She wouldn’t let this ruin the party. Teddi grabbed the presents, hopping out of the van and heading up the porch, her boots thumping against the old wood. Hopper answered when she knocked.

“Hey, kiddo,” he grinned down at her, his eyes immediately looking over to the empty space beside her. “...No Billy?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Something came up last minute,” she explained, trying to keep her tone neutral. “It’s probably for the best. I’m sure he’d complain about the cake ruining his physique or something.”

Hopper chuckled and stepped aside to let Teddi in. He’d traded in his uniform for some jeans an old plaid button up. Teddi always thought he looked less intimidating in his own clothes. More like a dad that liked to tell cheesy jokes...which was exactly what Hopper was.

The kids were all already there aside from Dustin, who was off at summer camp. They were all crowded around the dinner table playing a game of Candyland. The cabin was decorated with colorful streamers, balloons and a big banner that read Happy Birthday! was hanging above the kitchen. There was a small cake sitting out on the counter waiting for it’s candles. It was a soft yellow color with bright pink piping and Happy Birthday El scrawled in shaky lettering that Teddi assumed belonged to Hopper.

“Teddi!” El said, smiling brightly at her before pushing her chair back and hurrying over to the blonde. Teddi set her presents aside before wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Jeez, Ellie Bean. When’d you get so tall? I don’t have to bend down to hug you anymore.” she laughed. All of the kids had hit a growth spurt over the summer. Teddi no longer towered over them. She wasn’t really sure when it had happened exactly. It was like one day suddenly Mike was taller than she was and she’d nearly had an existential crisis.

El let out a small laugh. “Hop says I’m not allowed to get any taller.”

“He’s right.” Teddi muttered.

“...Where’s Billy?” El asked, peering out one of the front windows as if she expected to see Billy smoking out on the porch.

Teddi winced a little at her disappointed expression. “He’s not gonna be able to make it. Something came up, I guess. He told me to tell you happy birthday.”

That had gotten Max’s attention. The redhead looked away from the board game, looking at Teddi suspiciously. “What do you mean something came up? Did you guys break up?” she asked.

Teddi let out a sigh. “No...it’s a long story. I’d rather not talk about it.” she mumbled, heading over to the fridge to grab a drink. El and Max shared a knowing look. They’d agree to drop the subject. For now.

“Hey, how come we can’t go to the sleepover?” Lucas asked as Teddi pulled a seat up to the game.

Max rolled her eyes. “Because it’s a girl’s night, genius. None of you are girls.”

“That’s pretty sexist of you guys.” Mike argued.

Hopper scoffed loudly from his spot on the couch. “Quit while you’re behind, Wheeler.”

“What do you guys even do during a girl’s night?” Lucas asked, looking between the three girls.

“Summon demons.” Teddi said with a straight face.

Mike, Lucas and Will all shared a look. “...I’m pretty sure she’s kidding.” Will finally decided.

After the game of Candyland (Mike won, but Lucas had accused him of cheating) they all crowded around El to sing happy birthday and eat cake. After the presents had been opened, Teddi held up the smaller gift she had wrapped earlier, motioning to El to follow her out to the porch.

She handed the small, but long box to the teen with an almost embarrassed look. El smiled at her, making quick work of ripping the paper open. Inside the white box was quite frankly one of the tackiest necklaces Teddi had ever seen. It had a clunky, golden chain and a deep blue stone at the end of it. In the stone there was a constellation that was almost crudely carved into the stone.

“When I was little and my dad started working for the city, he took me and my mom to this state fair so he could make himself look good for his bosses. There were all these game stands, and one of them was this little pool that had these little rubber ducks in it. You got to pick three of them, and if you picked the right one you got a prize. So I begged him over and over to let me play and I ended up winning that horrible necklace,” she said, her and El both laughing. “It’s how I found out I was a gemini. The girl that worked at the stand was a total hippie and gave it to me when I told her my birthday. The stone is supposed to be our birthstone and then that’s the gemini constellation...I don’t know. I found it again after I moved in with Billy and I thought you should have it. It’s ugly in kind of a cool way.”

El held the necklace up, smiling up at Teddi. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” Teddi asked, letting out a relieved sigh. “Good! Here,” she took the necklace from El, twirling her finger to tell her to turn around and clasped it around her neck. El turned back towards Teddi, taking the small pendant between her fingers. “Perfect. Come on, we should go get Max and head out before Hop tries to kill Mike.” Teddi snickered.

The two girls headed inside, El hurrying over to Max and pulling her to her room to grab their things. Hopper looked so relieved Teddi thought he might cry. He stood up from the couch, waving his hands at the door. “Alright, boys, the party’s over. You don’t have to go home, but you have to get the hell outta my house.”

“This is totally unfair!” Mike complained. “I can’t spend time with my girlfriend on her birthday because of girl’s night?”

“How ‘bout you complain to someone who cares, Wheeler. Let’s go.” Hopper said, herding him towards the door. El and Max came running back out, arms full with their bags and sleeping bags. Lucas and Will wished her happy birthday again before practically dragging Mike out to their bikes.

“Don’t worry chief, I’ll take good care of them,” Teddi said, placing her hands on El and Max’s heads. “We’re gonna make crank calls and break out the ouija board.”

Hopper smiled thinly at her. “Funny. You two be good, alright? No boys or ritual sacrifices,” he leaned forward, hugging El and placing a kiss on her head. “Happy birthday, kid.” he said, smiling down fondly at his daughter.

Once the three girls were in the van and headed back for the apartment, Max spoke up. “So...what’s going on with Billy? Is he being an ass again?”

“What happened to not talking about it?” Teddi asked.

“Why not? The boys aren’t here. So, what did he do? What was this thing that suddenly came up?” Max asked, leaning forward excitedly.

Teddi looked at the two girls in the rearview mirror before letting out a sigh. “...I’m not really sure yet. Someone called right before we were supposed to leave for the party and he said he had to go. And when I asked him what was going on he got all...weird.”

Max and El looked at each other. “Weird how? Like weird weird, or Billy weird?”

“Billy weird. He’s been acting like this all day. Like he’s keeping a secret or something.”

“We should find him.” El said with a firm nod.

Teddi laughed. “Find him and do what? Spy on him?”

Max looked at her as if the answer was obvious. “Duh. If he’s with someone else you can catch him in the act and dump his ass.”

Teddi actually considered it for a moment before shaking her head. “That’s insane. What about the sleepover? And how would we even find him? You want me to drive all around Hawkins all night?”

“We can still have the sleepover later,” Max shook her head. El shot her best friend a brief, knowing look. Max looked back at Teddi with an unsure expression. “...El can find him.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

El smiled at Teddi sheepishly. “...Long story.”

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x oc

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