Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

66. Pinch Me, Part Two

Freddie

At first I had the sheer nerve to wonder if I had only imagined the knocking, only for it to come round again, the fist rapping heavily enough to wake the dog.  Down the hall, Fry let out an almost menacing growl, and seconds later I heard the jingle of his tags as he careened past the door around to the front, where he barked and barked.

As for me, I was again at a loss.  I'd had my share of late night visitors, to be sure, but this was a bit different.  I glanced at Julia, who still had not stirred, as though she might know how to best handle this- because I fucking didn't. 

Perhaps it's that Uncle John of theirs, I said to myself.  Maybe that's who was trying to call just now.

Suddenly curious enough to look, I reached across her and grabbed the phone, pressing the button and swiping my finger across the screen so smoothly you would have thought me quite a convincing millennial indeed.  At least, you would until the actual display appeared with all the different images and abbreviations.  Danny's device, I understood; and Charles's, though seemingly much more advanced, somehow was more simplistic and easier to get the hang of.  But this Magic Mirror of hers, as the sort of in-between model, still stumped me a bit. 

All the same, I wasn't so stumped as not to know what the little red number on the corner of the Phone icon meant.  I touched it, which presently brought up the call records (or something) and showed that an international number had attempted to call three times in a row, preceded by two other unanswered tries coming from Julia's end.

And not just any international number, either.  The "44" in the front told all. 

That's Danny's godfather, all right, I decided.  So he's English. How curious.  Is that how Danny came to be born there?  Good Lord, there's such an awful lot I don't know, so much they haven't told me about even now.  Awake since Sunday, yet I've scarcely hit the tip of the iceberg, as they say.

For the first time since learning of his existence, I found myself actually wondering about this elusive Uncle John of theirs.  I even went so far as to casually tap the place where the photos were stored, only to be met with an empty gallery.  Till now it had conveniently slipped my mind that I had destroyed the first device, which had likely contained numerous pictures of him, now gone forever because of one impulsive act.  My stomach turned as a wave of quiet regret washed over me.  Good Lord, I could be so needlessly destructive.

But wasn't it interesting, that this man would come all this way from England on a last-minute whim (I was assuming, that is- but I couldn't decipher why else the man would be reduced to setting up house with Wes of the Press rather than find himself a hotel room).  I could understand a bit better if he was an actual uncle of Danny's, or a grandparent- but a godfather?

What of it?  I would do the same for Mack's children, after all, if they said they wanted me there.  I took a drag, somehow momentarily tuning out Fry's barking. My God, all Julian had to do was ask me to wear the "prawn" costume to his birthday party, and I did it.  With gritted teeth, granted, but I did it nevertheless- and we're not related. 

Then again, that was me.  What I personally chose to do wasn't necessarily the standard for everyone else.  Everyone had a different situation.  For example, John was Little Freddie's godfather as well, but he had his own family to look after, and lived with them in London whereas I was residing in Munich, so he didn't spend quite as much time with the Macks, although I'm certain he did whatever he could to-

Wait a minute. 

I frowned, the wheels in my head starting to turn.  So many coincidences surrounded this chap, and only just now did they click in the most fascinating sort of way.  The wildest notion swept my mind- not very fast, however, nor did I visit on it very long; my concentration was interrupted thanks to another tattoo upon the door.  And this time round, Julia stirred.