Chapter Text
=-=-=-=
Japan, May 1974
"Deacon John."
John looked at the nurse calling his name with the pronunciation now familiar to them. She held a sliding door open.
John got up, and Freddie lifted his hand to steady him out of instinct, in case he should feel faint.
"Do you want me to wait here?"
John looked at him, glancing around the waiting room. He didn't want to leave Freddie sitting there and being stared at by other patients and the staff. They had had quite enough of that already. Japanese people were quite shameless in their curiosity over western faces and didn't even try to be discreet with their looks.
"No, you can come in if you'd like."
They stepped into the office and to their surprise, the doctor wasn't Japanese. Perhaps this would have been apparent from his name, Byrd, had either of them remembered it. Apparently their tour manager had hunted down an English doctor for them.
"Take a seat, Mr Deacon", Dr Byrd gestured towards the sole chair next to his desk, "What brings you here?"
"Well, I – I think I may have contracted a flu, but I really must travel the day after tomorrow and need something to help with that."
As expected, Dr Byrd didn't look at all impressed by the news of upcoming travel, but decided to save his breath and not lecture his patient about how bad the idea of travelling ill was.
"Where will you be travelling?"
"To London. We need to return home, but with the way my ears are clogged, I'm afraid I couldn't fly", John said, gesturing to his ears which he currently wasn't able to pop open.
Doctor nodded and stood up, stepping in front of him, and put his hands to his throat, feeling around for swelling.
"Any other symptoms?" he asked.
"My throat is sore."
Humming, Dr Byrd reached for a small, wooden spatula and a small torch.
"Alright, open your mouth, please, and stick out your tongue."
John did as told and forced down his gagging reflex, when the spatula was used to press his tongue down.
"Say aah."
"He has also been very tired and fatigued lately", Freddie suddenly piped in from where he stood leaning against a wall. John tried to glance at him, but it was simply impossible with the spatula still in his mouth. How long would it take to check? He was going to gag at this rate.
"That isn't exactly unusual when one has the flu… Anything else?" Dr Byrd asked, rather absentmindedly in the bassist's opinion, and removed the spatula to grab a device to look into his ear.
John could feel heat rising to his cheeks and something unpleasant coiling in the bottom of his stomach. He resisted the urge to sit on his hands and grabbed the hem of his shirt instead as the doctor checked his ears. He felt embarrassed. He shouldn't have come, should have just gritted his teeth through the flight.
"Your ears look fine. Have you tried steam inhalation to help unclog them?"
John shook his head, not knowing what to say at this point. It was clear Dr Byrd felt they were wasting his time with mild flu symptoms.
Suddenly, Freddie's hand landed on his shoulder and gripped. It gave John a start and he looked up.
"With all due respect, doctor, he sleeps like a log and is still constantly tired", Freddie was glaring, practically staring the man down, "he never used to go to bed at nine thirty! I think that's quite enough of an indication that he is unwell. He certainly isn't in the habit of having fainting spells. Flu or not, this is not normal."
John felt they should have perhaps admitted that touring had been straining them for months and thus their circumstances weren't exactly what one would call normal. Anyone would get tired and a bit ill after moving from country to country and performing every other night weeks after weeks. God knew Freddie himself had had severe problems with his nodules. But he was afraid Dr Byrd would take his symptoms even less seriously after hearing that information, and he wanted something to help with these symptoms.
Dr Byrd was silent for a moment, before reaching for the telephone on the desk.
"I'll prescribe you ear drops and arrange for a blood test to be on the safe side. If you'd wait in the lobby, please, a nurse will call you in to take your blood sample for the tests."
=-=-=-=
It took almost two hours for Dr Byrd to call them back in. John was starving and the tea they had been handed while waiting had tasted like dish water. He missed English tea, the black and strong builder's tea with milk.
Back in the doctor's office, Dr Byrd waved them towards the chairs. John sat down.
"The blood tests came back and as we suspected, you have influenza, Mr Deacon. However, there's something else as well."
"Yes?"
"We ran the tests a couple of times to be sure and there's no mistaking it. Mr Deacon, you are pregnant."
John blinked. He must have heard wrong.
"Excuse me?"
"You are pregnant."
A loud thump startled John and he turned to look back. Freddie had stumbled into the cabinet behind him. The singer straightened with a weak, "sorry".
John turned back around.
"Ar- are you certain?" he asked.
Dr Byrd nodded.
"Yes. The pregnancy test from blood is very reliable; false positives are extremely rare, especially on male gender. The test detects a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin, aka hCG, which is produced by cells that are surrounding a growing embryo. The level of this hormone in your blood indicates a clear early pregnancy –"
Suddenly Dr Byrd rose and grabbed another chair, pushing it next to John's, "You look faint. Sit down, please, before you drop."
John turned to look at Freddie, who had gone terribly pale. His boyfriend all but slumped onto the chair.
He felt his pulse jump and grabbed Freddie's unnaturally cold hand, "A-are you alright? F-Freddie?"
Dr Byrd poured a glass of water from a jug on a side table.
"Deep breaths. Do you need to lay down?"
Freddie shook his head and took the water.
"I'm fine", he insisted, but sounded breathless and weak to John. Still, some colour had already returned to his cheeks.
John took a shuddering breath.
"Don't scare me like that", he chastised, heart still hammering in his chest.
Freddie chuckled and put the empty glass to the doctor's desk. He looked better.
"Little drama every now and then never hurt anyone, dear."
He looked back at the doctor, straightening his back, "I’m sorry, you were saying?"
Dr Byrd studied them for a short moment, before going back to what he had been saying.
"Right. The hCG levels rise rapidly during the first trimester, meaning the pregnancy weeks 1-12, before declining slightly. This is how we know if a person is pregnant."
Dr Byrd might have expected them to say or ask something, but neither of the young men could get a word out.
"As for now, we cannot yet tell how far along you are. If you were a woman, we'd calculate it from your last period, but as you're not a female, we'll have to wait for the ultrasound measurements for more precise timing. That'd preferably be done in two weeks' time."
He pulled out a calendar sheet.
"The hormone levels indicate you are possibly somewhere between pregnancy weeks 4 and 6, if we use the traditional way of counting. Now, since we do not have further data from your specific levels of hormone, we cannot make comparisons, but if we take a guess of what's typical for male hormonal changes, then the fertilisation – the sexual intercourse leading to the pregnancy – might have happened between the end of March to mid-April. Does that sound plausible to you?"
"M-maybe. I-I don't know."
John looked at Freddie for confirmation. His head was spinning and he had no idea what was happening. He couldn't be pregnant. They were always so careful. Well, maybe there had been a few instances during this tour, when things had been a bit hectic, they may have forgotten the pills a few times and it had all just been very unorganised. But they certainly had not been able to make love all that often either, especially in a way that would make conceiving possible, so what were the chances of him getting pregnant? It should be harder for two men than for a straight couple anyway! But if the doctor was right about the hormones and he actually was pregnant, then it had to have happened during the North American leg of the tour, possibly in Canada. Still, how could this be happening?
Apparently Freddie saw his distress, because he took John's hand into his and brought it to rest on his lap, "Y-yes."
He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of John's hand with his thumb, "Yes, it does fit."
He turned to John, the hold on his hand tightening in a reassuring manner.
"W-We weren't very diligent with th- with the pills, darling", he reminded gently, looking hesitant, as if afraid John would start screaming.
John's eyes widened, when he heard Freddie admit their negligence in front of the doctor, and he lowered his head in shame. What would Dr Byrd think of them? That they were two young idiots who couldn't remember a couple of stupid pills, only one each, and did it like rabbits? Neither was true.
"Are you the father then? Well, the other father", Dr Byrd asked.
"Yes." "I am", they answered in unison.
Dr Byrd nodded and leaned back.
"I can tell this is a shock. You said you weren't being careful. I assume you didn't plan this pregnancy?"
"N-no."
"And you are not married."
John shook his head, while Freddie murmured.
"No…"
"I see. If you wish to terminate the pregnancy, it is still possible. You don't need to hurry, but this should happen before the 24th week. The earlier the pregnancy is terminated, the easier the procedure generally is. I advise you to talk about it and go to your own doctor, when you get home and know what you wish to do. They can tell you more about your options. There are also resources to help if there are... uncertainties of any kind."
He looked Freddie straight in the eyes while saying the last sentence, and the singer felt a cold twist in his gut, when he realised what was being implied about his potential doubts of there being another guy in the picture.
He gripped John's hand tighter.
"There are not, thank you."
"Very well. Then I'd suggest you go back to your hotel, where Mr Deacon can rest and hopefully get a bit better for your flight. Talk about your situation and make the decision on how you wish to proceed. Here is the blood test information; give it to your doctor on your first visit, so they can compare the hormone levels."
He rose, and Freddie rose too, still gripping John's hand.
John felt woozy and it was not entirely because of the dizziness he got from standing up. He couldn't understand the situation, couldn't comprehend how this was happening to him, to them. They always used contraception, always. And the one time they both forgot it and had sex, he got pregnant. Because there had only been one or two times they had done it like that during the time period in question.
It was all he could think about. That and how royally bad news this was for the band. Queen was only starting to get wind beneath their wings and they were on their very first official contract with Trident Studios. If the studio got a whiff of the news, Queen would be screwed.
They left the office and returned to the hotel. John couldn't remember anything from the journey, other than standing in the lobby while Freddie paid for the appointment with the wad of yens their tour manager had given them and called their driver from the payphone.
Later he recalled standing out on the street, at the back alley and feeling incredibly cold despite the mild weather, while they waited for the car. There were no fans now, no screaming and chanting masses adoring them. They were alone and while John had been thankful of that small miracle, he couldn't enjoy the calm before the storm he was sure would soon hit them when all this would get to the studio executives.
"Darling, you're shivering", Freddie had said and wrapped his own scarf around John's neck. John could only nod and cross his arms tighter against his chest, while Freddie did his best to stand in a spot where his body would block some of the wind.
John was grateful for that. Later he would also come to realise how lucky he was to have had Freddie accompany him that day and hear the news along with him. He did not know how he would have been able to share what the doctor had said and was very relieved he didn't have to.
=-=-=-=
When they arrived back at the hotel, Gerry was waiting for them at the entrance in the underground parking garage. He opened the door on Freddie's side and ushered them into the white painted corridor.
"How did it go? What did the doctor say?"
John froze. He felt like all the blood in his body had been replaced with ice water. What could he say? There was no way he would be sharing what the doctor had told them. Freddie wouldn't tell anyone either, right? His stomach turned. Surely he wouldn't. It was hard to even think about and for a moment John thought he'd throw up.
"F-flu", he croaked, barely audibly, "it's the flu."
It sounded utterly pathetic, certainly he wasn't fooling anyone.
"Just the flu?"
The lift arrived.
"Yes", Freddie guided John inside, hand against his lower back, "and thank god it was nothing more serious! John could've had something awful, like measles!"
"Yes, yes of course", Gerry hurried to agree and patted John on the shoulder as the lift took them to the upper floors.
"Good thing it's all in order now. We're glad you're going to be right as rain soon. You can take it from me, flus are pain in the arse to deal with during tours. Be happy the Japan leg is over."
John gave him a weak smile. Yes, right as rain…
He wasn't sure if anything could ever be alright again.
=-=-=-=
The moment they got into their room, John locked himself into the bathroom. Freddie watched him go and expected to hear the toilet being flushed soon afterwards as John had his jacket still on, but no sound ever came. It was just the sole sound of lock clicking into place and a long, long silence.
Freddie tried to not feel hurt over it, but it was hard to ignore the fact that John had just distanced himself from him by locking himself into a damn bathroom to not be in the same room as Freddie.
Sighing, Freddie went to put the kettle on. He would give John time. Perhaps that was all his darling needed. Few minutes to calm down and collect himself in peace. Freddie would give him that. He could be patient.
But as an hour passed and John hadn't come out, Freddie was at the end of his rope. Enough was enough. Was John planning on hiding in the toilet for the rest of the stay? Ridiculous. Besides, Freddie had had two cups of tea and his bladder was complaining. Still, he tried to be gentle about it.
"John", he knocked on the door, "honey, are you alright in there?"
There was a short silence.
"Yes."
John didn't sound like he was crying, and it calmed something in Freddie as well.
"Will you be out soon? I need to piss."
Freddie could hear water running for a short while, before John stepped out. He looked pale.
"Thank you, dear", Freddie said and leaned in to give John's temple a kiss, but John dodged the kiss and went to sit on the bed.
The rejection stung. Freddie sighed, but said nothing. He didn't want to start an argument. Not over a kiss. Instead, he went into the bathroom and wrung a towel in his hands hard enough that the terry fabric complained.
He wanted to shout and curse, to punch a hole into the wall. Everything was so fucked up he didn't know what to do with himself. A fucking baby, really? Now of all times? He wasn't ready to become a father. He didn't want to put his whole life on hold because of a child. Queen was finally starting to rise and in a few years they might have that gold disk in their hands, he could feel it. A baby would ruin everything.
Freddie paused. No, that didn't feel right. He didn't want to think like that. It was their baby, his and John's, and regardless of the accidental nature of its creation, he didn't want to say it would ruin his life. He didn't want to be that kind of a person.
Hanging the towel back to the hook, Freddie opened his zipper and stepped in front of the toilet. Still, a baby would be a great challenge right now. One he wasn't sure they could handle. His parents might help with the baby, but they'd be disappointed. And to be honest, Freddie was quite disappointed as well. He had had a vision of how he and John would eventually start a family, and it always started with a proposal and marriage, not bastard babies.
Freddie shuddered, partly because he had finished pissing and partly because of the crude word. But it was true, wasn't it? If he didn't like having a bastard child, he would have to marry John before it was born.
God, he must be going mad, if he was already planning on weddings around this dilemma. They hadn't even talked about the situation yet. Maybe John wouldn't want the baby. No babies period, or –
Or just not his baby.
A heavy lump rose to Freddie's throat at that thought. It hurt to think John might not want to have children with him. Obviously Freddie didn't want children now . It was way too early. But in a few years' time, when they'd be rich and famous… Yes, he might quite like to have a family with John. It wasn't a topic they had discussed in any detail yet, but Freddie had liked to think they both wanted to raise a family eventually. Together.
When Freddie got out, his heart heavy but bladder now comfortably empty, John had taken his jacket off and had laid down on top of the covers, facing the window.
Biting back all the shit that threatened to escape his mouth, like, "Did I dream of that doctor appointment or are you really pregnant? This will fuck everything up. What the hell are we going to do? I don't want to become a father yet.", Freddie tried to remember what they had on their schedule for the day. What should they be doing? Probably nothing, seeing how he himself had yelled and cursed at their manager yesterday, demanding him to clear their calendar for John's doctor's appointment.
After a moment of shifting aimlessly from one foot to another, he made a decision. It was past tea time, and even if John felt he couldn't stomach a dinner, at least some sandwiches and tea would be in order.
"I was –", he started, but had to pause to make sure John hadn't fallen asleep. No, his eyes were definitely open.
"I was about to phone room service. Or tell Gerry to make the call. What would you like?"
"I'm not hungry."
Freddie stopped, the crudely translated hotel restaurant's menu that displayed "chickenpox pie" among other things in his hand.
"Darling, it's quarter to seven. It's been ages since we had lunch. Sandwiches or dinner?"
He paused and backpedalled, "Or no sandwiches, I suppose, since they don't serve them here. How about soup? Maybe those pretty rice cakes?"
"I'm really not hungry."
Freddie felt his temper flare at the idiotic stubbornness.
"Regardless", he pressed and went over to hold the menu in front of John, "you cannot take your medication and vitamins into an empty stomach. Please pick something."
John looked at the menu and glanced at Freddie. It was the first time since arriving at the hotel that he had really looked Freddie in the eyes and the uncertain, almost haunted look in his eyes stopped Freddie in his tracks. Freddie had expected defiance, was fully prepared for stubbornness and childish refusal to eat, because, "I don't want to", but the way John looked at him was nothing but bare timorous. As if he was telling John to walk on burning coals by asking him to pick a dish from the menu. At that short moment their gazes met, John looked so very young, even younger than he really was. Freddie felt a twist in his heart.
"Please, darling", he tried again, gentler, "anything you like. At least a few bites."
John took the menu and looked at it for a long while. Freddie sat on the edge of the bed, feeling utterly helpless.
Just what the fuck were they going to do?
=-=-=-=
When the time to retire to bed came, Freddie didn't feel tired in the slightest. That was the downside of going East on tours: jet lag was one mean cunt. It had been like this the whole week. They had all followed the instructions to not go take even a short nap when they arrived in Japan early in the morning, as to not mess up their sleep pattern, but it was still a challenge to feel sleepy before the small hours.
Had Freddie been alone in the room or bunking with Roger, he wouldn't have cared much and would have simply spent a couple of hours playing cards or Scrabble, until sleep would come calling. However, it was John's room as well, and when his boyfriend – weary from flu – crawled under the blankets in his pyjamas, Freddie felt obligated to follow suit.
As he undressed, he watched John try to arrange pillows, so his head would be elevated, and gather blankets around him, before blowing his nose into a tissue. Poor dear looked miserable and weak, worse than he had in the morning or afternoon.
"How are you feeling, love?" Freddie asked as he slipped next to sniffling John and tried his forehead. Unsurprisingly it felt hotter than normal, but luckily not overly so.
"Horrible. My head feels heavy", John whimpered and leaned into Freddie's side for comfort. The gesture surprised the singer. Based on how withdrawn John had been since their return from the doctor's office, he would have expected to settle on his side of the bed, while John would stay on his. While he was glad of this improvement, it was admittedly a little awkward to wrap his arm around John and pretend they hadn't been sitting in silence since the dinner.
Still, Freddie knew he was a complete softie when it came to John and pushed all thoughts about emotional distance away and crooned softly, combing his fingers through the brown locks.
"Oh you poor thing. Do you want some aspirin?" he asked and kissed the top of John's head.
"I already took some."
Freddie nodded and upon feeling tremors ran through his boyfriend's body, pulled blankets higher up. Funny how bodies worked. John was obviously feeling cold, yet his skin felt hot against Freddie’s side.
"Want me to draw you a bath?" he asked, lightly massaging the back of John's head. John shook his head no and only burrowed his face to his chest. He started slipping down onto his side, and Freddie went with him, until they were cuddled on the bed. John rearranged the pillows a bit and wrapped an arm around Freddie's middle, while the singer reached for the bedside table to switch off the lamp.
They laid in the darkness of the hotel room with the noises of the nightlife below coming through the thin walls and windows. Freddie listened to John breathe wetly through his nose and sniffle every so often. Finally his boyfriend seemed to have had enough and sat up to blow his nose. When he laid back down, he turned to face the window. Freddie wouldn't have admitted it, but he was glad to not have snot all over himself and happily settled behind John, pressing against his back.
"Good night, darling", he pressed a kiss somewhere behind John's ear and wrapped an arm around his middle like he so often did.
Only this time it apparently wasn't welcomed, since John took his hand and pulled it up, holding it against his chest instead. Freddie tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. Had he crossed a line which he hadn’t realised now existed? Should he move away?
He didn't want to ask.
"G-Good night", John whispered, his voice thick and wavering. It made Freddie's chest ache.
He hoped things would look better in the morning.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=