The day Isabella spent in St. John's Wood with Mary completely wore her out mentally. On paper, their agenda was very relaxed, with nothing but slow strolls throughout the quiet residential streets. But, the idea that she'd have to go to school the next day still worked at her nerves every minute of their morning, afternoon, and evening.

This meant that it was now a bit past midnight and Isabella was tossing and turning. Her mind was drained but her body wasn't tired. With a huff, she threw her sheets off of her and got out of bed, grabbing her now empty glass of water. Isabella knew the layout of the house pretty well now, so she was satisfied with herself when she didn't need to turn on any of the upstairs lights to go from point A, her bedroom, to point B, the kitchen.

Isabella slowly tiptoed down the long wooden staircase, doing her best to make sure the boards made as little noise as possible.

Dang it, she thought when one stair creaked particularly loud. She paused for a moment to hear if Mary would stir, and when the coast felt clear, continued her pursuit downstairs.

Isabella turned the kitchen light on and sighed in relief that she'd made it without waking Mary. She felt on the verge of tears at this point, and didn't want Mary to see her upset. The woman tried so hard to give her a good day in St. John's Wood and kindly show her what would be her new daily surroundings. She didn't have to, but she did. And Isabella was extremely appreciative of that.

The only noise in the house now was the sound of the refrigerator running. Glass in hand, Isabella opened the fridge door very slowly, grabbing the jug of water that they kept for anyone who wanted very cold water. Otherwise, the tap was frequently used- it was the 80s, after all.

After pouring herself a glass, she shut the kitchen light off and walked into the living room, turning that light on now instead. She went to Mary's favorite reading chair and turned the tiffany lamp on that was next to it.

Isabella was to go to school that morning, and Freddie was to come back to London two days after. After three weeks of being taken care of by Mary and Joe, ever so gently at that, it was so much all at once. Isabella pulled her knees up to her chest, craving the pressure of a hug but not having anyone to give her one.

She hadn't had a real hug in months. Almost a year, actually, since her mother came into her bedroom and leaned over her bed to hug and kiss her goodnight. She was desperate to be held for more than a couple of seconds, and not be treated like she was made of glass or something to be pitied.

Before she could take another drink of her water, Isabella heard now familiar sound of the back sliding door open. She froze, heart suddenly hammering in her chest. She reached over and flicked the tiffany lamp off, not knowing what else to do.

"Kiddo, is that you in there?" Joe's voice hissed, the kitchen light turning on.

Isabella had nearly melted into the chair at this point in a puddle of anxiety. She flicked the lamp back on as Joe rounded the corner and came into the living room.

"You scared the actual shit out of me," Isabella buried her head in her hands. "I really might need to go check if I crapped myself."

Joe laughed quietly, dressed in slightly tattered shorts and a Boston Bruins hockey t-shirt, which she assumed were his pajamas. "Sorry, kiddo. I really hope you didn't shit yourself, that's not only Mary's favorite chair, but I'd be willing to bet that chair costs more than my yearly salary."

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Probably costs more than my whole life. When he comes back, I'm gonna be afraid to breathe in here. How did you know I was up?"

"Saw the kitchen light on from my bedroom window. Mary's never up at this hour, only Freddie... or Phoebe, if he's getting something for Freddie. Therefore, process of elimination."

"How do you have so much energy at this hour?" Isabella leaned back against the chair, sliding down it in defeat. "Even though I can't sleep, I'm still pooped... don't make a joke."

Joe frowned at her words. He sat down at the loveseat across from her, and patted the empty cushion next to him. "Wouldn't dream of it. Come sit next to your Uncle Joe. What's wrong?"

Isabella got up and shuffled her way to him. "We have to be quiet if we're gonna talk. I don't want Mary to know I'm awake. She'll worry."

"I'm worried! You have to be up for school in five hours."

"Don't remind me."

"I figured that's what this was about," Joe put his feet up on the coffee table. "First day jitters, it happens to the best of us. Nothing but normal, kiddo."

There was a long pause. A question had been in Isabella's mind ever since she had been told she'd be going to school in London. There were only two people here who could answer the question for her, and one, she was too hesitant to ask. After all, Mary was her guardian and kept going on and on about how much work it had been to get her enrolled after the school year had already started, but Mary wouldn't quit because she felt Isabella was just that special.

How could Isabella challenge Mary as to why she even had to go in the first place if her time in London was fairly limited, when the woman had been so fixated on giving her the very best scholastic experience?

At this point, she figured if she was going to get an answer, it would have to be from Joe and she'd just have to do the damn thing and spit it out.

"Can I ask you something?" Isabella spoke up, picking at her right thumbnail with her left thumbnail.

"Shoot."

"Why is Mary sending me to a fancy school if I'm not going to be here past February? I feel so bad that Freddie's forking all this money over just for me to spend a couple quarters there and then go home."

Joe didn't do a great job at concealing his reaction to Isabella's query. His lips immediately turned down at the corners. He tried to joke to even out his facial response:

"They call them terms here," Joe said in a terrible imitation of a posh British accent. "You must get with the program, dear Isabella."

Isabella looked at Joe expectedly, too overwhelmed to find his antics amusing. "Uh huh, and?"

"Aaaaand... I think she's just trying to give you the world while you're here," Joe patted Isabella's thigh gently, before folding his hands in his lap again. "From the moment she talked with your aunt about you coming here, she's been extremely determined to make sure every day you spend here, whether it be six weeks or six months, is carried out with you in mind, first and foremost. That means special fancy American school. Only the best for you, even if for a short time."

"So- so there are no long-term plans to keep me that I don't know about?" Isabella looked down, wanting so badly not to hurt Joe's feelings but needing to know. What he just told her was not really news to her, and she needed something more direct. She was worried about being lied to, even if all the adults felt it was for her own good. She was tired of adults choosing what was best for her themselves without asking her first.

Joe turned to Isabella, looking at her sincerely through his glasses. "No long-term plans, kiddo. I can promise you that. Is there anything we can do that we aren't doing to make this any easier?"

"Oh Joe," Isabella pouted. "You guys are so freaking nice and accommodating, I feel like even after a few weeks of being here, for rest of my life I won't be able to repay you for your kindness. Seriously."

"But it's not only kindness you need, clearly," Joe challenged gently. "We've been saints, we get it. And you've still got one foot out the door."

Isabella bit her lip, the all too familiar feeling of heavy grief coming back to the surface, now revealing itself on her face. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room began to chime as 1am hit.

"I need my parents, my sister. Can't think of anything else."

There was nothing else for Joe to say. He knew there was nothing he could offer her to come even close to a sufficient solution as a reply. He looked over at Isabella in the dim light, though he was afraid to. She had pulled her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. She was silent, a dam about to burst.

"I can...?" Joe slowly stretched his arm out. Words had failed him.

Isabella nodded, silent tears now falling. "Mmhmm."

She scooted closer to him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. It wasn't a hug or the desperate hold she needed, but it was much better than Isabella trying to pacify herself. She didn't feel like Joe pitied her at all, or was trying too hard to make her happy. She felt like could be a bit more vulnerable around him than she could Mary.

After all, he wasn't the one who championed for her to be here. Mary did, and she didn't want to stress Mary out any more than she probably was.

"You're in good hands, kiddo. That's all I can say."

"I know," Isabella replied sincerely, followed by a yawn. "Hey, why were you up so late?"

"Was watching E.T.," Joe yawned back. "It just came out on VHS, didn't have a chance to see it at the movies."

"One, that movie is scary as all heck," Isabella shuddered. "Two, are you sure you don't wanna go finish it? I feel bad!"

Joe scoffed. "Nah, cuz I've gotta agree with you, kiddo. That shit was scary. If I was that kid and that thing showed up, I'd punch it in the throat then call the police. Hell, I'd do the same as an adult, too."

"What are the police gonna do?" Isabella asked slowly, eyelids heavy. A faint smile played on her lips.

"Pew pew," Joe lazily made a finger gun with his hand, Isabella's elongating blinks becoming infectious.

She continued to smile a bit, but didn't speak again. The pressure of Joe's arm on her shoulders grounded her so much that her eyes stayed closed. He took her tears away and accepted that as a victory in itself.

Joe noticed Isabella's breaths become steady and rhythmic, and soon his own followed suit.

~~~

When Mary knocked on Isabella's door at 6am that morning and received no response, she didn't think anything out of the ordinary other than the fact that the girl just must be trying to begrudgingly get some more sleep in, like anyone her age. After all, it was early and even she knew school wasn't the most exciting place in the world to go to.

And in Isabella's situation, it was even more harrowing than an average early school wakeup.

"I'm going to come innnn," Mary sang playfully, trying to be as positive as possible for the girl, clearing the tiredness out of her own voice. It had been forever since she had to be up before 8am, but she was thoroughly enjoying having a child to look after so it was all fine.

"One..."

No response.

"Two..."

No response.

"Three!" Mary opened the door, and immediately noticed the morning sun shining onto an empty bed.

Brows furrowed, Mary turned on her heels and headed downstairs with more haste than usual, tying her light blue dressing gown around her hips. Oscar marched alongside her, food clearly on his mind. At the bottom of the stairwell, just to the left, she could see a faint light on in the living room.

Upon entering the room, she immediately stopped in her tracks. There Joe and Isabella were, fast asleep on the sofa. They both were completely upright, sat next to each other with their heads lolled back and their mouths slightly open. If she knew Isabella better it might be been a sweet moment, but since she didn't, all it did was worry her.

Mary also didn't want to confront her sudden feelings of inadequacy. Though she didn't know what had happened, she had a good idea of what this was. Joe wouldn't have come over and stayed over unless Isabella needed him. Mary had been just upstairs, and Isabella didn't go to her. It hurt, but she shook it off for the time being.

She settled with clearing her throat. "Joseph, Isabella?"

Isabella was the first to wake up, jumping a bit in her seat. Her eyes were wide when she met Mary's. "Oh shoot- morning! I, uh..."

"Good morning, Isabella," Mary said as softly as she could, fidgeting with the silk belt around her hips.

Joe stirred, but continued to snore. Isabella nudged him in the ribs, clearly embarrassed. "Joe, you're drooling."

His eyes popped open, and he shot Isabella the gentlest glare he could. "Ow! Thanks... oh, hey Mary."

Mary just looked at the both of them, waiting for one of them to explain how they ended up in the living room instead of in their beds.

Isabella stood up, tucking stray curls behind her ears. "I kinda had a hard time sleeping last night, so I went downstairs to get some more water. Joe saw the light and-"

"And I'm very nosy," Joe finished. "Kiddo, why don't you start getting ready for school? I'll get started on breakfast."

Isabella nodded, grateful for an escape. "Be right back!"

Once they heard the sound of Isabella's bedroom door closing, Mary moved her head towards the kitchen. Joe followed behind her like a puppy in trouble.

"Coffee?" Joe asked, not meeting Mary's eyes.

"Please," Mary sat down at the kitchen table. "Just a dash of milk."

Joe's back remained to Mary as he filled the coffee machine with fresh beans. "Are you upset with me?"

"With you? No, Joseph. I'm just... I don't know," Mary put her head in her hands.

"She didn't go to me, Mary," Joe spoke quietly, getting a mug out of the cabinet. "I was watching a movie and I saw a light on in the kitchen from my window and I just had a feeling. Sure, there was a chance it was you but I had to check. Turns out it was the kiddo, and turns out she needed someone. I was gonna bring her upstairs but I passed out before I had the chance to."

There was a seconds-long pause before Mary spoke again.

"Is she alright?"

Joe poured a bit of milk into the dark green mug, and brought it over to his friend. He sat down across from her.

"The only thing she needs right now is her parents, which we can't give her. But if we continue to love her, as naturally as we possibly-"

"Naturally?" Mary put her mug back down.

Oscar meowed at Joe's feet.

"Alright you," Joe stood up to feed him. "Yeah, Mar. I think if we treat her like we would if she was our own, she'll really benefit. But if we treat her like someone who's lost something, it won't do her any good. She can tell the difference."

"I understand," Mary leaned back in her chair, watching Joe pour cat food into a silver bowl on the floor.

"You are doing a great job, Mary," Joe looked up at her as he patted Oscar's head. "She does like you loads, but I think she can tell how hard you're trying, and she ends up working extra hard to make sure you know your efforts don't go unnoticed."

Mary felt sick at the idea of Isabella putting any extra effort in at all for anything. She was supposed to be here to relax and focus on healing.

"Freddie comes back tomorrow," Mary muttered. "How can I manage them both, if I haven't figured out how to best take care of Isabella?"

Joe began putting breakfast together, but continued to meet Mary's eyes now whenever he could. "You've been managing him for over a decade. If he doesn't want to participate, and wants to act like a child, he can take a back seat here. Isabella, the actual child, is the priority. You remember that, honey."

"You're right," Mary's face met her hands again.

"Sounds nice to hear ya say that," Joe walked over and laid a dramatic smooch on Mary's head. Mary quickly shook him off. "Music to my ears."

If anything, the two were like siblings. They argued fiercely like siblings but loved each other fiercely like siblings. Mary knew Joe had a big heart, but she had been extremely impressed by how he'd been with Isabella, diving in head first and not looking back from the moment the girl walked through the door. She hoped and prayed that Freddie would soon see Joe of all people totally embracing Isabella and be inspired by that.

Mary would do anything at this point for both Freddie and Isabella to be happy, coexisting together in Garden Lodge. But it wasn't up to her, it was up to a certain singer who'd be home in less than twenty-four hours.

~~~

September 23rd, 1982.

Back in Japan, Phoebe wrapped a fresh towel around Freddie's shoulders once the man jogged off stage. Peter Hince went to snap a photograph of him, seeing an opportunity as Freddie still had his mic in hand. The multicolored lights of the stage made a beautiful background in the dimly lit backstage corner, shining against Freddie.

"Not now, dear," Freddie said with a wave of his hand, trying to catch his breath. He handed his mic to Terry.

The older Freddie got, the more grateful he was for Brian's guitar solos. He used to find them damn annoying, but now they were a welcomed ten minutes.

Roger manifested at Freddie's side with Crystal, his roadie and friend. "So..."

Freddie turned his head. "What?"

It hadn't been since The Game tour that Freddie had spent one of Brian's guitar solos with another member of Queen next to him.

"Talked to Dom earlier, she said you had a little guest? You never told me that," He frowned, shoving the new pair of drumsticks Crystal handed him into his back pocket.

"Not my guest," Freddie crossed his arms. "And it's not exactly newsworthy, so why would I mention it?"

"Mary told her otherwise- kid made the news the first day... Well, under the guise of a coat. Is this why you've been more of an arse than usual?" He mused.

Crystal looked at Freddie, and then stepped a bit more into Roger's view. His look said:

Not right now...

Freddie surprised the small group around them by opening up to Roger, and not storming away to avoid hitting the blue eyed blonde.

"As a matter of fact, yes, it is why I've been feeling like shit for weeks. How would you feel if a stranger moved into your home?"

"She's a kid, Freddie. A kid in mourning. She's not gonna do you any damage. Not on purpose, anyway," he shrugged.

"I'd love to say I don't expect you to understand how I feel," Freddie hissed. "But I actually do expect you to understand."

"Sorry, mate," Roger softened. "We can grab a drink after the show? My flight's not til mid-morning."

"Can't. Headed back tonight."

"But what's the point of flying tonight if it takes half a day to get back to London?"

John walked over to the group of four now. "What're we talking about?" he interrupted. "If it's about me coming in too late on Get Down Make Love, don't I know it. Some lady's sign said John Deacon, show us your tits, and it completely threw me off my tracks. Sorry."

It was the seriousness in which John told his little anecdote that almost immediately sent Freddie and Roger into peals of laughter. Nobody had seen Freddie laugh like that on tour in ages, let alone two band members at once, so it was all the more enjoyable for everyone standing around them.

A smile began to grow on John's face, pleased with himself that he was the reason behind the moment. Brian glanced over to the side stage and saw his three bandmates bent over in stiches, suddenly upset because he wasn't sure if he missed a joke or was the joke. Nonetheless, he continued strumming, sending a particularly shrilled note in the boys' direction, pointing his guitar towards them for a moment.

"Ah, he thinks we're laughing at him," John grimaced.

"That makes things even better, doesn't it?" Freddie slapped a palm onto John's back. "And you better commit, Deaky."

There was a long pause.

"I'm not showing them my tits, Freddie."

"If you won't, I will!" Roger whipped his damp shirt off, handing it to Crystal just as Brian had finished his solo.

An already shirtless Freddie grabbed his mic back from Terry and ran on stage behind Roger. "Take your pick, dearies," Freddie announced into the mic. "You can have the blonde or the brunette!"

~~~

September 24th, 1982

Day three of school. Isabella tucked her white dress shirt into the waistband of her skirt, the length of it hitting her knees. While she appreciated not having to worry what she was going to wear every day, she hated how modestly she had to dress. It was still quite warm out and the girls had to wear long-sleeved dress shirts the entire first term.

Apparently they made exceptions in May, which she wouldn't even be there for.

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth, noticing her summer tan was beginning to fade. Upon turning a bit to the left and right, she observed that her face looked slightly fuller.

If the few extra pounds hadn't been needed, she might have felt down about it. But to her, she looked healthier than she had in months.

"La da da deeeee... de daaaa daaaaa..." Isabella heard humming from the hallway, before the stairs faintly thudded one by one.

The moment it registered with her whose voice it was, she was convinced her heart fell into her stomach. Freddie and Phoebe must have come home while she was sleeping.

Chill, Isabella thought. It's fine.

Her hands shook slightly as she put her tiny silver earrings in. She stared back at herself in the mirror for another minute, leaning forward onto the bathroom counter to ground herself.

"Isabella! Breakfast's getting cold!" Joe called from the kitchen, before turning towards Freddie, who walked into the kitchen. "Well, look who we have here!"

"Just tea, please." Freddie yawned, stretching a bit on his tip toes. "Where's Mary?"

Joe smiled at his friend's lack of sincerity, and blew him a kiss. Freddie scoffed, but winked at Joe.

"She's outside having a cigarette."

"Ooh! I'll join her," Freddie shoved his feet into a pair of slippers that were by the back door. "Can you bring her a cuppa too?"

"She already has coffee."

"Mary's drinking coffee?"

"Y'know, we've been taking care of an eleven-year-old for almost a month now."

Freddie's eyes narrowed, hand on the doorknob. "I thought she was easy?"

"She is, but we insist on spoiling her," Joe cocked his head towards the doorway. "Speak of the little lady. Morning, kiddo!"

Isabella pretended like she didn't know Freddie and Joe were talking about her.

"Morning," she spoke softly, hovering in the doorway. Her face was blank as she stared forward, fixing her gaze on her plate of eggs and toast.

It was the most detached Joe had seen her since their first night. His chest felt tight at the realization, but he made a quick attempt to lighten things up.

"Say, is that a new outfit? Let me guess... Versace?"

Isabella cracked a bit of a smile, and rolled her eyes. His joke was just enough to lessen the tension in the air, and she took the few steps needed to get to the chair.

Roger's words of, she's a kid, Freddie, echoed in his head.

The singer knew he had to talk to the girl, and say more than just a hello. Despite how he felt about the situation, he wasn't a monster, and it would have been downright cruel if he had walked outside without saying hello.

"Is he harassing you?" Freddie raised a brow at Isabella, still teetering by the door and gripping the handle. Quite literally white-knuckling it.

Joe knew how shy Freddie could be in his private life. But he had never thought he'd see the day where the man was petrified of a little girl.

Isabella turned red, but the tiny smile on her face stayed. "It's nonstop."

"Hey!" Joe teasingly slammed the jug of milk onto the counter.

"We don't have HR here, but we do have me, and I hold a lot of power in this organization," Freddie opened the door. "I'd watch yourself, Joseph. Quarter three reviews will be here before you know it."

Joe's mouth fell open. "Where the fuck did you learn how to speak corporate?"

"Third row on a Japan Airlines flight," Phoebe interrupted, joining the trio in the kitchen. "First class."

And with that, Freddie closed the sliding door and ventured into his back garden.

Joe walked up to Isabella, and bopped her nose with his finger. "I won't get in trouble for harassment in the workplace. You're a good fibber, I've noted that."

Isabella stuck her tongue out at him and then took a bite of toast. "That went... fine?"

"The bar is low, kiddo. But we'll take what we can get for now."

"He's right. It's only up from here," Phoebe added, gently touching Isabella's shoulder.