"Where are you going?"

"Freddie! You're awake," she smiles down at me as my eyes adjust to her radiance. I'd never thought each vision of her clearly again could make my heart leap and clench with such intensity at the same time.

She sways over to me as I try to sit up as slowly as possible. My head still feels cloudy, but all of the feeling in my bones seem as good as new. I feel 20 years younger— I am 20 years younger.

She's already dressed for the day. She's wearing an all black, ill-fitting sundress. Nothing like the clingy, shape-clinching dresses she used to wear. Her long hair is piled on top of her head, the falling tresses outline her sharp features. Her ruby red lipstick make my eyes focus on her lips as she speaks.

"I was just going out to run a few errands. I'm also going to visit your parents...maybe bring them over to see you," she perched herself at the end of the bed and it takes everything in me not to reach my hands out to her like a child asking for attention.

When I don't respond, but with a dreamy stare, she continues to explain. "I haven't told them the news of you being home, yet. I didn't want to stress them too much before I was sure..."

Finally, she scoots closer to me, bringing her hand up to my face, swiping my hair from my forehead. "Do you want me to call the hairdresser? I use to trim your hair, you know. You'd smile in your sleep. I- I thought you could feel me nearer sometimes..."

"You were always with me. I never knew the difference," I admit, somewhat timid. For some strange reason, I'm unable to meet her eyes.

She smiles, letting out a long sigh, "I love to hear you say that," her smile falters for a moment. I don't want her to feel guilty.

"You don't have to say it," I announce, thinking I could read her mind. "I know I probably seemed hopeless and I know it had to be a hard thing to do to take care of a waiting corpse..."

She cringes at my words, pulling her hand away from mine. "Yes, well, I'm sorry either way. I should've believed—"

"Don't be, Cherie. We're together now...that's all that I care about," I give a little smile and so does she. That is, before her eyes turn void. She bites her lip, getting off of the bed to step into her shoes.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Phoebe is here for anything you want or need. He's really excited to have breakfast with you, actually," she giggles, bending down to quickly kiss my forehead before grabbing her purse to head for the door.

And that's when I notice....I've woken up a few months too late...

————————————————-

The smell of food wafting from the kitchen smells divine. I took my time showering and shaving this morning, trying to make myself look good.

I feel much stiffer than I did before, but I guess adrenaline will do that to you. My features are extremely chiseled, cheekbones dominating my face, nose thin and pointed. That's always been my appearance, but it's looking rather gaunt than sexy. I'll just have to get my appetite to cooperate and put a little bit of weight on soon. As for this full beard, I've decided on a bit of a trim but quite like the new look of full grown facial hair.

"Ah, Freddie," Phoebe waves his hands above the stacks of food on top of the table, greeting me with a bright smile. "Good morning, how are you feeling today?"

"I feel good, don't worry," he pats my back as I stand beside him now.

"You look good, old friend," he says with a wink, pulling a chair out for me.

"Why, Phoebes," I smirk. "If I had known you were so fond of me, I'd have married you instead."

"Oh, I know it," he chuckles.

I started digging into my breakfast straightaway. To be quite honest I did feel a bit rude, I never really had such a big appetite as I did now. I felt like a slob, seeing as how Phoebe was just staring at me astonished.

I cleared my throat, "Staring is rude, darling. Won't you join me?"

Phoebe just smiled about to reply when the door bell repeatedly chimes. "I'll go and get that, hold on."

I wait until he passes the kitchen to start demolishing the remainder of my scrambled eggs and toast. The tea was still piping hot, but I drank with a thirst that couldn't be quenched.

"Take your foot out of that grave!"

"That's hardly a welcome home greeting, Rog," Deacy mumbles as I'm tackled from behind by Rogers tight embrace.

"I don't mean it that way. He knows he's my best friend," Roger smirks, winking at me.

"The prince is home, we've missed you, Freddie," Brian says as he hugs me.

John is looking down at his feet, waiting his turn as I finally get out of my seat. He looks up at me then, tears brimming his eyes. I hold my arms open for him and he smashes against my chest. "Don't get too weepy on me, Johnny boy," I chuckle despite the tightness of my throat as I try to keep myself composed.

"After everything you've put us through, we deserve a good cry," he mumbles sheepishly with a little laugh.

"Cry's are boring. Freddie Mercury, the man, the myth, the legend is never boring," Roger comments between chewing the food he's served himself.

"You're looking rather wiped out...," Brian comments, ignoring a Roger who only seems to be trying to steer the conversation into positive light. I can't blame him. I'd do the same.

"Really, dear. I'm fine," I reply to Brian, but more so to John who hasn't stopped staring at me.

"Would the rest of you like me to make you something else," Phoebe asks, clearing away our plates of breakfast.

We politely decline, shaking our heads. "Take a load off, Peter. Have a seat," Roger says.

"Our wives and kids wanted to come and visit, too, but, you know, we thought you'd have missed us more. So, we came together," he winks at me, blowing a kiss.

"Ahuh," I smile, happy to be in their presence, just joking around like old times. "Have you all found another singer, or..."

"Of course not, Freddie," Deacy immediately shoots out. "There is no Queen without you."

"Right," Brian nods.

"No kidding," Roger adds. "We've been on hiatus. Just some interviews at first, but it's been a long while since we've accepted interviews with any press."

"I want to get back to work as soon as possible."

"Fred, maybe we should take it slow. You know, until you're better," John suggests all of this and I have a feeling that he's right. But the fact is if queens been gone from the public eye for this long, we outta think about a comeback.

"You're all making me feel like some sort of ghost, my god!," I try to laugh it off, but they're weak chuckles make me feel worse.

John's hand slides over mine for a second, meeting my eyes with his so full of worry. "You mean a great deal to us, Freddie. Forgive us for being in a bit of shock... I don't know how we'd survive without you..."

"Well," I smirk, looking down from their eyes, clearing the nervous tickle that's settled itself inside my throat. "The show goes on," I simply say, giving a small smile, receiving eye rolls in return.

————————————————

Cherie still isn't back yet and I have to say, it's starting to wreck my nerves. The bands left an hour ago and phoebes basically ordered me to have a rest. I do find that I'm getting tired more easily. Must be the side effects of my medication.

Still, I lie awake in bed, listening to the sudden commotion happening downstairs. My heart feels lighter when I hear the pitterpatter of little feet running up the steps to greet me.

The door to my room bursts open. I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.

"Shhh, Richie, quiet. Papi is sleeping."

"I can see that, Char. Let's let him rest. Phoebe said he's tired."

"I know," Charlie replies, a little groan coming from her as she nears.

She wraps her little hand around my fingers, contrary to a child's naturally rough touch, she gently swipes her hand up to my cheek, bending down to kiss it. "I love you, Papi. So much," another kiss. "I just want you to know, you never leaved my heart—"

A little sniffle sounds from further away and now I feel awful to be playing a trick on my little beans. "Aw, Richie. Don't cry..."

He gasps for air, seemingly trying to hold in the sound of his cries. I feel his hand caress my leg. "Papi looks so tired.," he mumbles. "I miss him being fun and funny. Papi, please wake up—"

I can't stand it any longer! I peek one eye open, seeing them both huddled together in a tight hug, tiny tears rolling down their cheeks.

In an instant I sit up and swoop them into my arms. They both squeal in surprise and in the next moment I've got them giggling in my ear as I tickle their sides.

"Papi!," Charlie laughs. "You sneaky, Papi!"

I shower them with kisses, squeezing them tight and pulling them closer as they climb on the bed on either side of me. "That's not very nice, Papi," Richie huffs, crossing his arms. "You spied on us," he pouts.

"I was only joking, my little darlings," at the same time, they place their heads on my chest. "Papi is stronger than you think," my arms cradle them close to me. "I'll never leave you," I promise, kissing the tops of their heads.

I'm surprised when they both grow quiet. Having motioned about a bit before their breathing slowed and evened out, I realize this must be about their bedtime. It takes some careful determination, but after a couple of minutes I'm able to sidle out from between them.

I stand at the end of the bed just to admire them. Staring at the beauty of my precious beans, always holding one another, minimizing any space between them.

One by one I carry them to their bedrooms. I make sure they're tucked in nice and snug. I don't know how much of their little milestones I've missed, but I don't want to miss a second more.

Making my way out of the room as quietly as I can manage, I shut the door behind me. I try to find Phoebe in the kitchen, but he's not here. I can hear his snores echoing and I spot him dozing on the couch in the sitting room. He's snoring as if he hasn't had a wink of sleep in days.

I decide not to bother him as I make my way to the garden. It's a cool, quiet evening to have a nice sit by my koi pond. I used to come here to have some space to myself to think and let my mind drift away from any stress.

It can be a lonely place when you're on top of the world, at the height of fame, splashed across every media outlet, your own privacy nonexistent in the eyes of the world and a fan base that can never get enough. Sure, I've got family and friends to spend my time with, but not many people understand what it feels like to be trapped inside your home or always having to be surrounded by security staff. I've befriended many whom I've employed, but a part of me has always wondered if they only put up with me because I'm their boss.

I watch the fish swim in tireless loops; they've gotten much larger than I remember, they've changed so much. Everyone has.

My chest tightens as I continue to stare into the murky water. What a life I've given them. The fish, I mean. Trapped in a man-made stream, unable to escape what has now become their reality. I've done to them what the world has done to me, putting them on display for my own selfish pleasure. Why am I only now putting this together?

I feel their emotion like an empath absorbing every ounce of hopelessness. My mind wonders back to this morning. I try not to think about it, but if this is my current reality, then it must be addressed.

I know my wife very well. Or at least, I thought I did. But I've been away for some time now. I already admitted that I don't blame her for moving on, but if she's with child, how can we be together?

It doesn't add up! It doesn't make sense.

I don't feel like I've been away for so long. I feel like this is some sort of mind game. And if I was asleep this entire time, coma-ridden and cast aside as a lost cause, then how were my dreams so vivid?

They were real enough to cause heartache, pain, blissful joy, and foolish pride. My children— and in those dreams I had three, were all grown up and beautiful. But towards the end, we were ill, Cherie and I, still trying to live life to the fullest. I was practically blind and dwindling away to a sack of skin and bones as was she. But still we didn't let anything get in the way of living out the rest of our days as if nothing bad was happening. Maybe that was just me waking up...

Did Cherie visit once when I was still asleep and tell me about her affair? Did she apologize and say shes left me for somebody new and they're expecting a child together? Did my subconscious then dream up our beautiful baby Lily?

How horrible can I be to myself even in my sleep? It all seems so real. I could feel it, touch it, grasp it and hold on for dear life. Now it seems as though my heart is aching and grieving over the loss of a child that never existed.

It was only a dream. She was only a dream.

Should I let her go now? Cherie, I mean. Yes she's slept beside me and comforted me as she brought me home, but maybe she still feels responsible for me. A husband she thought nothing more than a vegetable knocking on deaths door. I haven't asked if we're divorced, but clearly she's moved on.

Maybe, I should let her. Besides, if she's found a love after me, then does that make her love for me less? If you can be in love with two people at the same time, isn't it obvious that the second person is the truer lover and the first is merely an attachment to the past?

I don't know it then, but as my tears fall into the pond, ripples of rings vibrating amongst the steady waters, I'm being watched.

I hear the footsteps creeping closer, but it's as though I can senses who is coming. I know it's her before I even look and I don't shy away my feelings because I know she is the one person who will always understand.

"It's okay, my boy. Mama's here now..."

She sits beside me, wrapping her small arms over my shoulders, letting me curl my head against her neck as I try to pull myself together.

"You're okay to let go if you're ready," she sighs, squeezing my hand tightly.

I look up at her, my watery eyes making my vision blurry. Quickly blinking the tears away, I try to ask her how she knows what I'm thinking, but she doesn't let me get a word out.

"A mother knows," her hand is holding my chin, she smiles adoringly, her small chestnut eyes meet mine while her long fingers rub against my cheekbones.

"Are you alright?," I ask her, knowing full well of the bastard paparazzi camping outside of garden lodge. "Did any of the media hurt you?," as I ask this, I see my father and sister appear from the patio doors beginning to walk closer.

"Don't worry about us, dear," My mother replies, continuing to coddle me.

I only nod, letting her sweet mother love engulf me. Laying my head back down to her shoulder, she holds me like a baby, never ceasing her tender caress as her fingers brush through my hair. We sit quietly, just the two of us, staring at the fish continue the cycle of their endless swim.

——————————————————

"I didn't think you'd come back at this point," my voice is rugged and tired, perhaps even accusing.

She doesn't say anything as she kicks off her shoes. She takes off her purse and places it down on her bedside table. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see her undressing.

She slips her dress off of her shoulders, letting the fabric cascade down to the floor, only leaving the delicate little number of her undergarments on.

She takes quick glances at me as she moves around the room, coming to my side as I lie still in bed. Still she says nothing as she climbs onto the mattress, crawling towards me, straddling her legs over mine.

I can't help my arousal. It has a mind if it's own. A head of its own, anyway.

My lips part and a slight whistling breath escapes me. Her fingers dance across my chest. She rubs me; her hands smoothing through my fuzzy chest hair. Her hips on mine is all I can think about.

My eyes roam over her body, stopping just short of her plump middle. I chose to ignore it. I don't care. Every part of her belongs to me.

Each piece of her mind, heart, and soul is mine to keep. If she's with child from another man other than mine seed, I'll love it with every piece of my heart, because it's hers and what's hers is ours, even still.

Instead of asking questions that might spark an intrusive debate or derail the current atmosphere, I remind myself that it's only her and I right now in this dark room, in our home, in our bed.

I let my hands grab hold of her sides. My fingers dig into her skin with a yearning so forceful, I could take over and devour her at once, but I want us to take our time.

Not a word is uttered as our hands become reacquainted with each others bodies. I reach up to undo the buckle of her bra. Her perfectly round tits, bounce and her nipples perk as I tear the lace fabric away.

She starts to grind on me as my fingers twiddle her erect nipples. I palm her breasts in my hands, kneading her soft skin, relishing in the feel of her warm center heating up mine.

She bends down. Her face close to mine, her eyes examining me, asking for permission. She doesn't need it.

I extend my neck, pouting my lips towards her as she finally plants her mouth on mine. My hands grip her hips as she kisses me. I make her hips sway faster on my pulsing erection, exchanging hot moans as our tongues dance with one another.

She takes her time licking up the side of my neck, finding that sweet spot that never fails to drive me wild. I let a long groan fall out of my mouth, pushing her hips down harder on me.

She sucks and nips at my neck; her clit excited from our dry humping is starting to moisten the lining of my underwear.

I start to wiggle out of my underwear; Cherie moves to the side to get them all the way off, flinging them off the bed. My eyes trail down her body as she lies beside me now. I grab her face with both hands, pressing my lips to hers, inhaling deeply, igniting in our intimacy.

One hand trails down to her panties, I slip them off, slightly trembling, as she grabs hold of my heated shaft, pumping me as hot precum wets her fingers.

"Ah, Cherie. Mmmm," I can't get many words out. My breathing becomes heavier, relishing in the feel of her tight hold.

Her whimpers become more intense as I start to finger her wet entrance. My fingers dip into her, one by one. A tease to how it'll feel to be deep inside of her.

"Make love to me, Papi," she moans in my ear.

Attacking her chest with rough kisses, I can no longer contain myself. I turn to hover over her body, sucking her tits, jerking my cock as I pull her nipples into my mouth. Using my tongue to lick up toward her neck, I nibble on her earlobe, my ragged breathing in her ear as I push my throbbing cock into her drenched trenches.

We share a gasp of ecstacy. Her legs wrap around my waist. My thrusts are steady and slow. I let the low, humming in my throat vibrate against her shoulder as I rest my head next to hers.

She's staring deeply into my eyes. We share soft, passionate kisses as she starts to cum undone over and over again to the stimulated slow pumps reaching her gspot while my wet front rubs her clit at close proximity.