Roger parked his car before John and Taylor's house, making his tires squeak on the cold London pavement. He got out of the vehicle and opened the back door on Taylor's side, helping her out as she was too weak to fully move all by herself.

She had left hospital four hours after she talked with John, going back to the hotel thanks to Tomohisa. However, John only brought her to her room and send her to bed, going out right after. While she was resting, he went to the airport with the taxi driver to buy plane tickets for the next flight back to England. The doctors gave her so much morphine that she felt high for the first hours. It could not be worse than having burning kidneys.

They caught the plane at three in the afternoon the day after, straight for their homeland. During the whole trip, John had been keeping an eye on Taylor, who did not sleep much due to her uncomfortable position. She did not eat much either, and John wondered how she managed to not faint.

When they arrived at the London airport, Roger picked them up on the parking lot, knowing that they would come back way sooner than expected, as John gave a call to his bandmates. And here they were, in front of their house.

John unlocked the front door, opening it widely to bring Taylor in the living room more easily. Roger and him sat her on the couch, removed her shoes and her coat, putting them back at their place. She painfully pressed her back against this of the couch, sighing.

While Roger and John brought their suitcases in, Taylor almost fell asleep. As she was about to dive into nothingness, she felt something light landing on her lap. She slowly opened her eyelids and saw Malo, miaowing and purring. The kitten was happily rubbing herself against Taylor's stomach, begging for strokes.

“Hello little darling” Taylor whispered tenderly, kissing the top of Malo's tiny head and petting her. “Did Freddie take good care of you?”

As soon as she ended her sentence, a sharp pain stabbed her kidneys again. She stiffened, wincing, and tried to sit up. Being too weak to speak, she made loud noises to alert the boys.

When John put down his wife's suitcase in the corridor, he heard her muffled screams. He immediately rushed into the living room, kneeling down before her, frightening Malo who jumped on the floor again.

“Taylor, what's going on? Love, do your kidneys hurt again?”

Roger ran up to them, guessing that something wrong was happening, ready to help if it was needed. He sat next to Taylor, holding her hand and stroking it friendly. John kept asking her things to keep her awake, seeing that she nearly passed out. He began to feel desperate, as she was unable to speak. She painfully rested her head on Roger's shoulder. The blond drummer stretched out his arm and stroked her hair, trying to reassure her as much as he could.

“Perhaps we should put her in bed” he said to John.

“She definitely needs some rest. Taylor, honey, listen to me. The doctors in Japan gave me strong painkillers, the same that they gave you when you were at hospital. It will lower the pain for a while, alright? You're going to take two of them, and we're putting you in bed, is that okay for you?”

Taylor nodded, sobbing silently. She felt nothing and everything at the same time. She was completely terrified. She was trapped in her body, and she lost her control over it. She felt like a little girl who would bother everybody around her because of her whims. However, she was not responsible for all that, and it was not her fault.

John ran out of the living room, knelt down before her backpack in which he had put the pills given by the hospital. He grabbed the box and jumped in the kitchen, taking a glass that he filled with cool water.

Roger was hugging Taylor, whispering reassuring words in her ear, telling her that everything would get better and that it would soon be over. Seeing that it did not work, he started to kiss her forehead, softly singing his song Drowse, which he knew she loved a lot. Her muscles slowly started to relax, and she closed her eyes, snuggled against her friend's chest. John came back with the pills and the glass of water, causing Roger to help Taylor sit up.

“Here, sweetheart. Swallow them straight away.”

Taylor nodded, grabbing the glass with a trembling hand, along with the painkillers, which she threw in her mouth one by one. She swallowed them slowly, grinning, and drank the rest of water. Roger rubbed her back gently.

“Very good, dear” he whispered, leaving a kiss in her messy hair. “Very good.”

“I'm proud of you, my treasure” John smiled, stroking her cheek. “Now let's go to bed, mmh? You'll feel better, I promise. You must sleep.”

Once again, Taylor nodded. John and Roger jumped on their feet, each one grabbing one of her arms, wrapping it around their neck, holding her by the waist. They tried to make her stand on her feet, but her knees would always give out. Therefore, John carried her bridal style to the bedroom, while Roger opened the door for them.

On the bed was spread Taylor's wedding dress, making John's heart leap in his chest. Roger took it and hung it in the closest wardrobe, which seemed to be Taylor's anyway. He pulled the sheets and patted the pillow, preparing a comfortable spot for her.

John lay her on her back, and Roger turned to him.

“I'm staying out of the room while you dress her in more comfortable clothes.”

Roger patted his friend's back and left, closing the door behind him. John bent over his lovely but oh so fragile wife, kissing her forehead.

“Let me take off your sweater and your jeans.”

“John” she eventually managed to whisper. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be, love. I'm here for you anytime. If you need anything, just tell me, okay?”

“I will.”

“If you can't speak, just hit the wall as hard as you can. Or move in the bed.”

“What if you're asleep?”

“It won't happen, I'm going to stuff myself with coffee!”

“I want you to sleep, you haven't slept since I passed out, John. You can't go on like that, you know!”

“But I must protect you. I'll rest later.”

John slowly undid her belt and unbuttoned her jeans, gently pulling them off. He removed her socks, leaving a kiss on each of her knees. She grinned and struggled to take off her sweater.

“Sh, sh, sh! My dear, let me take care of that.”

Taylor stopped moving and let John remove her thick sweater. He removed her bra through her t-shirt, making the straps slip along her arms, pulling it out on one side.

“I feel so drowsy” she moaned.

“Don't you want to change your clothes?”

“No. I want to sleep.”

“Alright. I'm preparing dinner for later. And if you don't wake up, it's not a problem. Remember, if you need anything, hit the wall or move in the bed. You can also whistle.”

Taylor grinned and curled up, staring at him.

“Can you imitate Lauren Bacall for me?”

John, who was gathering Taylor's laundry, stopped and looked at her, with a wide grin. He put on her bra over his shirt, making her chuckle. He cleared his throat and tried to imitate the actress' voice in To Have And Have Not.

“If you want me, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you? Just put your lips together and blow!”

Taylor giggled, slowly clapping her hands. Her smile was so sweet that John's heart beat faster. He covered her body – which actually lost a lot of weight now that he looked at it – with the sheets, adding one just in case. He kissed her dry lips and switched off the light, keeping the door open, as she asked him to. Taylor rested her head on the pillow, curling up under the blankets, and almost immediately fell asleep.

John walked up to the bathroom, removing Taylor's bra, and putting all her clothes in the laundry basket. Then, he got back to the living room, where he found Roger, standing in the middle of it, his arms crossed. A worried expression was printed on his face.

“Is she alright?”

“She spoke. I guess it means that she's getting better. Thank you for your help, Rog. It means a lot and I owe you one.”

“You don't owe me anything, Deaky. Taylor is my friend. I really wish that she'll get better and that all this is not that serious. You can count on Freddie, Brian and myself for help. We won't let her down or you either.”

John was out of words, completely exhausted by the situation and also overwhelmed by his friends' loyalty. He stepped forward and pulled his fellow bandmate into a warm hug. He felt tears coming to his eyes, but held them back immediately. He had to stay strong. For Taylor.

Roger patted his friend's back, rubbing it gently. He slowly pulled away, looking at him.

“Do you still need me here? Do you need anything, like food or whatever?”

“No, thank you, mate. If there's any problem, I'll call you.”

“Don't forget to let Freddie and Brian know about Taylor's state, mmh? They're so worried about you two, Freddie completely freaked out when he learnt about what happened at the pavilion. I think they'll visit you tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

“I'm going home, then. If you need me, don't hesitate to call me, even in the middle of the night, I don't give a shit.”

John smiled and nodded, saying goodbye to his best friend. Once Roger was gone, he sighed and wondered about what he could do. He decided to unpack their stuff, folding the clothes and putting them back in their respective wardrobe, walking on tip-toe in the bedroom so he would not wake her up.

Once it was done, John walked up to the telephone in the living troom, looking at his watch. Great, the doctor still was at his office at this hour. John dialled the number on his phone, pressing the handset against his ear. It beeped three times, before the voice of a man in his early forties answered.

“Doctor Maylor here.”

“Good evening, sir, this is John Deacon speaking. I'm calling you to tell you about my wife.”

“I didn't know you got married, Mr. Deacon!”

“A few days ago.”

“Congratulations! Well, what's the matter?”

“At our wedding, she complained about a light pain she felt in her kidneys, and when we went to our honeymoon in Tokyo, it seemed like it went worse and worse. Actually, she did not tell me, she did not want to worry me, but you see, she slept less and less and she acted weird, I must say. And when we visited Shinjuku yesterday – or the day before yesterday, I'm a bit lost with the jet lag – she passed out in the Taiwanese pavilion. In the morning already she said she had cramps in her stomach, that her back hurt, and she lost her balance a few times. Sometimes, she was away. And without any warning she fainted. I immediately brought her to the hospital, and they examined her. They said they saw something in one of her kidneys, and I think it must be something like a cyst. The doctor told us to go back to England as soon as possible, otherwise it would be dangerous for her.”

“I see. Did you get the x-ray back?”

“I did.”

“Come to my office tomorrow at ten with your wife, and bring the x-ray along. I'll examine her and tell you what the x-ray showed. Then, I'll tell you where to go, in what department and all. Is that okay for you?”

“It is.”

“Did you notice changes in her behaviour?”

“Not really, but I just put her in bed, and I realised that she lost a lot of weight. Perhaps I'm only imagining it, but I'm a bit worried about it.”

“Okay. Are there things she can't do, like moving certain parts of her body?”

“She told me many times that she felt numb. She can't stand up, and her knees are weak. She almost can't move at all from time to time.”

“Can she speak?”

“Not much. When I talked to her earlier, it was as if she was mute. But when she was in bed, she managed to talk a little.”

“Alright. And emotionally?”

“She's exhausted all the time, she falls asleep more easily than she usually does, and she's terrified. She's lost, she doesn't know what's happening. She thinks she's a burden, and she's afraid that I would leave her, and I know I won't.”

“I see. I wrote all that down, and I'm keeping it in my drawer. Tomorrow when you come, we'll talk about that with her. Oh, and a last question, did her kidneys hurt before she went to bed?”

“Yes. As she wouldn't speak, she tried to make noises. She almost passed out a few times. But the doctors in Japan gave me strong pain killers so she can rest peacefully for a while, without being disturbed by the pain.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow morning, at ten, in my office, then. Don't forget the x-ray, and of course, don't forget your wife. Good evening, Mr. Deacon.”

“Thank you, Dr. Maylor. Good bye.”

John hung up and sighed, running a hand across his face, leaning on his table for a while. He walked up to the kitchen and prepared himself a large bowl of coffee. He dragged a chair in the corridor, so he would hear if Taylor had a problem, sitting on it while sipping his beverage. Malo briefly came to him and rubbed herself against his leg. John petted her, before watching her run up to the bedroom.

After an hour, John felt completely drowsy. He still managed to go back to the kitchen, wash his bowl, and prepare his famous homemade lasagnas, so Taylor would not starve when she wakes up.