*Author's note*

I'll keep this author note short and brief since I don't really have a lot to say for this one. Just a tinsy-winsy bit of angst but then it all turns to fluff, before finally BOMBSHELL IS DROPPED ON YET ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER. But again it don't matter to you guys cause you can read on and not wait for me. 

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They just stared at me. Their eyes widened in shock or surprise.

"The—the future?" asked Veronica.

"Yes. I know I should've said something in the beginning but I know that when people of the past hear about it, it's practically impossible. Hell in my time it's impossible, that was until I met the Doctor that everything you think is impossible isn't."

"So—that story of you getting attacked....."

"It wasn't a full lie Brian. It just—wasn't a human that attacked us."

"Then what was it? Was it that thing that tried to kill you and Robert back in the room?" asked Freddie

"Possibly, but I don't know if it was the exact same one that attacked us here in the TARDIS." I said.

"So where exactly are you from?" asked Roger. I looked down from his harsh blue eyes that shined with disappointment.

"I'm from the year 2019. I was born (b/d) 2003." At that point the room was completely silent once more. I couldn't even look at the band that had shown my nothing but kindness from the get-go, probably now looking at me with looks of betrayal or hurt.

"If you really are from the future, then—tell us one thing only we would know." Asked Brian.

"(Y/n), you know you can't." the Doctor said.

"Actually I can say one thing. The first song you had on A night at the Opera, 'Death on two legs'. I know that's about your bastard of a manager from Trident Norman Sheffield. He wasn't paying you guys the right amount of money. Especially for you Deacy because you and Veronica were wanting to get married and get a home for you and Robert. That's why you guys now are signed up with EMI and John Reid, Elton John's manager."

"Oh my god." Veronica awed as she adjusted Robert. "So you really are—"

"Yes."

"But—why did you come here to this specific time? I thought you could go anywhere?" Freddie asked me.

"Well it's true. And I have been everywhere, and anywhere for that matter. But—and I wasn't lying when I said that I was a fan of your guys, I—I longed to see you guys perform. And with it being near the Christmas season I—wanted to see this concert because next to the Rainbow you guys did last year, it's my favorite."

Of course I purposefully left out Live Aid, their most iconic performance because as the Doctor always said, "Never affect a real person's history". Especially since Live Aid was the 'make it or break it' for the band.

I looked toward Roger who looked—a multitude of things. Betrayed, distressed, confounded. He then just turned and walked out of the TARDIS.

"Roger!" Brian called out.

"Rog dear where are you going?" I sighed heavily and said.

"I shouldn't be surprised. After all I did—kinda lie to you guys. He shared some personal things with me, and this is how I repay him."

"He'll come around darling." Freddie assured me as he came up to me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and rubbed it.

"Wait so—you guys aren't.....mad?"

"Well—not mad per-say more like—stunned. I mean don't get us wrong it has nothing to do with you love but—time travel. I mean I always believed it to be nothing more than science fiction." Said Brian.

"Well don't astrophysicist go into the theories of Einstein? Specifically his theory of relativity and time space continuum?" the Doctor asked.

"Well yes but—" at that point, guitarist and astrophysicist Brian May was proven wrong. "Oh my god he—he was actually right?"

"Einstein was a clever man. You both would've gotten along, perhaps alongside Newton." The Doctor said with a grin and a quirk of his brow.

"Oh my god." He muttered as he brushed his hand through his hair. It was then Robert started getting a little fussy.

"Here why don't we all head back to the hotel room since his majesty Robert is getting sleepy." The Doctor said. Veronica who was trying to calm Robert down began to agree. We all left the TARDIS and I looked out toward the street and saw no sign of Roger, although I had a feeling I knew where he was.

"You guys go on ahead and get some rest, I've—got something I need to do."

"You sure (y/n)?" asked Deacy.

"Yeah. You and your family had a long night Deacy. Go and be with them, you deserve it after what happened. Doctor I'll have the examination table ready for you when you bring that creature in."

"Okay, and please no dissection tools this time." He told me.

"You just wanna suck the joy out of everything." I muttered.

"I heard that missy." I stuck my tongue out at him and with that they turned and headed to the guy's hotel. I turned towards the blue box and touched her corner and I said.

"You heard him Sexy. I think you can take care of it for me, god I know I can never understand you but please tell me.....will Roger even—want to talk to me after this?" and then for the first time, I saw her center console or as I like to call it 'the heart' of the TARDIS lit up and I heard a brief wheeze.

Guess that meant 'yes?' I don't know. But I hope you're right old girl.

"Okay, thanks girl." I then walked the opposite direction. Towards the Hammersmith Odeon theater.

When I got there I had seen that the doors were indeed unlocked. I walked in and I could hear the faint sounds of banging. I walked closer towards the door and as quietly as I could opened the doors to see right by his drumkit, Roger Taylor banging away on his drums.

He wasn't playing a song, just—banging a random rhythm. But I knew he had to be pissed, a drummer doesn't do that randomly (or at least me) if they aren't angry.

I stepped in and quietly shut the door and hid along one of the rows and just watched him. God just seeing the way he was drumming made me think back to the Nov. 1974 Rainbow performance. I thought at this point he was gonna knock his kit over and destroy it like he did then.

I tried to stay in the dark so that he wouldn't see me and try to take off running. As I got closer and closer to the stage, I could feel my heart beat with anxiety, I just—god I really hope he doesn't hate me for lying—well not fully expressing the truth to him.

I mean there's no other hurt than when you find out our hero is a right up arsehole. And Roger's been nothing but kind to me but now that he knew the truth would he—reject me? Hate me? Be disgusted with me? I've let so many people down, and been let down myself and if I had to deal with my hero Roger Taylor, the man who practically saved my life, hating me I—I don't know what I'll do.

With each hard slam on the high toms or symbols I walked up the steps so that he wouldn't hear me coming until I finally reached the stage. Then finally after some frantic and furious drumming, he stopped and panted with sweat already starting to form on his brow.

"Roger?" he refused to look at me. He took his drumstick and stood up, flatly ignoring me. "Roger please I—can't you just let me explain?" He didn't respond, he just sat down on the stage and twirled his stick in his right hand not wanting to look at me.

I sighed heavily and turned towards his kit. I walked up to it and saw the extra pair of sticks right there in a pouch. I adjusted the seat and twirled the stick in my left hand before placing my foot on the pedal. I then slammed on the cymbals before playing his famed song 'I'm in love with my car.'

Then to the best of my ability, I also sang his song. Now I'm like Deacy when I say I don't have the best voice. I mean it's not terrible, terrible like ear bleeding terrible. I can sing in like the alto rang but anything probably higher than that, it's a no go. But oh man was Roger right about this being the most difficult to both sing and play the drums.

I only got to half of the first chorus when Roger held his hand up and said.

"You're supposed to go high toms then middle toms before you get to the chorus."

"Oh yeah, I thought it sounded a bit off."

"And no offense (y/n), but your voice it pitchy when it comes to singing."

"Hey!" I exclaimed in mocked offense which made Roger finally crack a smile. "I know, guess Deacy and I got that in common. I'm not much of a singer, but I am one hell of a drummer right?"

"With more practice yeah." He said as he came up and nudged my arm which made me smile and chuckle.

"Again Roger I'm—really sorry I lied. It's just.....would you honestly believe me if I had told you from the get-go about me being from the future?"

"Most likely no. I would've thought you were crazy. I'm the one who should be sorry. I overreacted and didn't give you a chance to speak."

"Actually you reacted how I figured you would." I looked up at him and continued, "So—we cool now?"

"You got it love." He said as he placed his hand at the back of my head and pressed his forehead against mine. "C'mon. Let's head back to the hotel and get some rest. You must be exhausted."

"Not as much as Robert and Veronica are."

"True. But you were the one to kill that—whatever it was."

"Yeah you got a point there. And damn am I gonna feel some of these sores tomorrow."

"Well why don't I get some ice for the bruises?"

"You've done too much for me Rog, I can't ask that of you."

"Nonsense love. I won't take no for an answer. And I'm sure you know how stubborn I can be." I cracked another smile and said.

"Yes. Not only through the interviews I've seen but just from what I've witnessed myself."

"Then c'mon. Let's go." We set his drumsticks down and the two of us left the Odeon theater.

We were now back at the hotel and I was sitting on the bed while Rog was making some ice bags for the bruises on my ribs that I knew had to be forming.

"So what's it like in the future?"

"Roger—"

"I know, I know the Doctor said you can't reveal too much but can you at least tell me what the people are like? I mean, are there still arseholes in the world? Is racism still a thing?"

"Unfortunately yes, but not the extent that it is during this time. It's really sexism that's the kicker, but women are getting a better cut now when it comes to fairness in the work force."

"Okay, that's good. Reason I ask that is because a show earlier this year someone called Freddie a racial slur in the middle of our concert and Fred called him out on it." I grinned and said.

"Doesn't surprise me. He does have that confrontational spirit when it comes to himself or his friends."

"Love you don't know the half of it. Now about the music, is Rock and roll still a thing?"

"I don't think you'll like the answer to that."

"Oh god please tell me we die because of disco."

"No, no. It's mostly either rap or Hip-hop." He looked at me confused. "You'll find out in about 20 years. It's hard for me to explain exactly what they are cause one I can't rap to save my arse, and two hip-hop is even twice as difficult to explain."

"And what of us? I mean Queen in general. Are the four of us still together?" he asked as he finally came towards me and handed me the ice and towelette.

Damnit I knew he couldn't resist asking that. God I really wish I could tell him, cause next to Deacy, Roger suffered the most cause he was on his way to see Freddie the day he died. I could spare him the heartache but I knew I couldn't tell him.

"Why did you have to go and ask that?" I muttered as I grabbed the ice bag and towel from him.

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself." I sighed heavily.

"I can tell you this though Rog. Your music, will continue to last for a lifetime. There are new generation of Queen fans born every day. You help inspire so many people in the years to come. Just keep to your guns and I guarantee you that Queen will kick off to new heights in five years." He smiled at me.

"Just like I dreamed we would." He said in awe. "Okay another question, and this is just about me personally. Do I—please tell me I don't end up losing my hair." At that question I couldn't laugh but it caused me to groan in pain. "You okay?" he asked concerningly as he placed both of his hands on my arms.

"Yeah. I've had worse."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you later. For now to answer your previous question, you—kinda end up looking like Colonel Sanders."

"The guy from that Popeyes American place? Are you joking?"

"It's KFC actually but, yes. But it suits you."

"Oh great, and what I expect Brian keeps his hair the same way?"

"Well—"

"What?! You mean to tell me I'll slowly be going bald while he keeps his Isaac Newton hair?!" I shrugged and said.

"Seriously Roger it's not that bad."

"God if I end up looking like that Deacy and Freddie will never let me live it down." I elected not to answer that.

I'll admit I have seen the pictures and video footage of Deacy in the present (or well about 3-6 yrs. ago my time) and—god it broke my heart to see him in that state. Not to mention that now that the Paps have found him, they and so called 'fans' try to stalk him to get another footage of him.

Why couldn't they respect his privacy? He looked so worned out and depressed and all he wanted was to be left alone and not relive the pain of Freddie's memory.

"Now going back to you (n/n), what did you mean you've had worse? Have you gotten injured traveling with the Doctor before?" I heard him say. He looked me dead in the eye. I adjusted the icepack and said.

"It comes with the territory. Some people get hurt, but most end up killed."

"Wait, killed!? (Y/n) you're so young! You have your whole life ahead of you. Why do you stay when you know it could be dangerous?"

"Because I've lived with danger for—practically my whole life. In fact I was.....involved with some very, very, very stupid shit before I met the Doctor. These bruises are nothing compared to what I've had to deal with." I then pulled down the shoulder of my shirt and showed him a faded mark on my right arm. "That there, got it from a .45 ACP caliber pistol when I was just 10 years old."

"Wait you—you got shot at!? What kind of cowardly bastard shoots a child!?" he asked furiously.

"It was a graze actually. And it was reckless teenager that did it. 15 years old. Newbie." He gently stroked through the faded scar and muttered.

"What have you been through love?" I took a sharp inhale before exhaling deeply.

"I only said this to Veronica earlier tonight. I—don't know if I have the strength to tell it again." I told him honestly as I looked down shamefully. It was then I felt him cup my chin and turn my head to look at him.

"I won't force you love. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I won't press. But when you are ready to talk, I'll be there to listen with an open ear and an open mind." I smiled and said.

"Okay Rog, I'll tell you."

"Are you sure?" he asked as he tucked a strand of my hair out of my face.

"Yes. You deserve to know the truth." He then sat down close beside me and I proceeded to tell him everything.

My parents drug problems, them trying to sell me off, my nana taking me in, the gang activities, getting addicted to drugs myself, and being one of the most violent members of probably the biggest gang in London in 2019. I told him everything.

I also told him of how I first met the Doctor, my first 'mission' with him and how ever since meeting him he's basically been a supporter of me trying to get out of my old lifestyle choices. He helped patch things up between me and my nan, and that's when my nan introduced me to Queen.

And ever since then, any achievement of being clean, I got something related to music or Queen related like records, merchandise. I even told him that my 6 month clean gift was a drum kit that almost resembled his during this time period.

When all was said and done, Roger looked at me not with judgement or even with sympathy, there was—strength behind those piercing blue eyes. The first thing he did was cup my face in both of his hands.

He didn't speak a word as he only looked at me, his thumbs gently stroking my cheekbones before he finally embraced me and he whispered in my ear.

"You truly are a tigress. Oh love you've overcame so much in such a short period of time. Forced to grow up only to be lead down the wrong path. But you fought and fought your way out to make yourself clean again. That alone shows me that you have true courage and strength. And I am—honored that in a way in your time, I was your big inspiration."

I felt the flickering of tears in my eyes. I couldn't believe I was hearing him say this.

"God (y/n), lovie you've—you've seriously surprised me. To think that you were strong before but now knowing this I'm....I'm blown away at who I stand in front of."

"I think you're milking it a bit much there Roger."

"No I swear to you lovie I'm not. You are a warrior (n/n). A true warrior. I mean fuck if I were in your shoes and that happened to me I'd—I would've never found the strength you had. I'd probably still be doing the drugs, the gang violence, hell I'd probably be dead before the age of 18."

"But thank god you're not." He smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Yeah, cause otherwise who else would you look up to?"

"Okay now I'm beginning to regret telling you that you're my biggest idol. I knew I should've chosen Deacy when I had the chance."

"Uh-uh-uh-uh no takebacks you can't retract it now!"

"Who says I can't?"

"I say. C'mere you!" he then pulled me into a headlock and proceeded to noogie me like there was no tomorrow. I exclaimed and tried to free myself from his grip.

"Hey! Roger stop!" I said through my laughter.

"Not until you take back what you just said and say that I'm still your idol and biggest inspiration."

"Okay I take it back!"

"I don't believe you." He ceased his noogie attack but he still kept an arm around my neck. "You know at this time I would tickle you to make you say it, but in the light of your injuries I'm going with Plan KR."

"Plan KR? What happened to B? And just what does KR mean?"

"Oh just a little thing I used to do to my sister when we were kids. I call it—oh shall we say.....Kisses and Raspberries!" and at a split second, my cheek was attacked by raspberries and he began giving me wet kisses all over my face.

"Stop it you hyper golden retriever!"

"Oh so now we're name calling huh? Well take this you adorable tigress!" he then gave my cheek another raspberry and I soon tapped out.

"Okay! Okay I'll say it!" he ceased his raspberry attack and looked at me with a serious face. "Roger Meadows Taylor forever will and always will be my idol, role model and inspiration." His famed wide smile came across his face as I spoke those words.

"And don't you forget it." He said with a peck to my nose. I shook my head at him and said.

"You truly are the hysterical Queen out of the band."

"Yeah, but sometimes I do have my quiet moments." He said as he lay down right there in front of my like a cat sunbathing. I nodded before I let out a soft yawn. "Oh wow it's already 2:30 in the morning, you should get some sleep." He sat back up and got off the bed and actually tucked me in.

"Thank you Roger."

"No problem."

"No not for this. I meant—thank you for giving me a chance to explain myself. For allowing me to finally be honest around you, even when I almost costed what we sorta formed with each other." He smiled softly and he said.

"It's not what we almost had. It's what we do have. Meeting you (y/n) it's....probably been the most thrilling experience I've ever had. And that's saying something since I've performed live for television and thousands of people all before I reached age 30." The two of us smiled and softly laughed. "Alright now, get some rest. And I'll check on those bruises tomorrow. G'night love."

"Night Rog." He kissed my cheek before heading towards his bed and turned out the light and soon the two of us fell asleep in the darkness of the hotel room, exhausted after the events that had happened tonight.

"(Y/n). (Y/n). (Y/n) wake up." I groaned and I saw from the light of the moon and the streetlamps the Doctor's face.

"Doctor?"

"Shh." He shushed me. I looked over at the clock and said.

"It's 3am."

"You need to come with me to the TARDIS."

"Why? Can't it wait till morning?" I turned away and tried to go back to sleep.

"I'm afraid it can't. It's life threatening conditions, against the boys." At that point I shot up and asked.

"Show me."

We soon arrived at the TARDIS and the Doctor explained.

"While I was examining the body, I notices a familiar substance from the blood analysis. So I ran it through the TARDIS's mainframe and it turns out, it's Zygon."

"Wait you mean the pink fleshy shapeshifters you told me about? I thought you said they were peacefully living among us and were working together to help better benefit the world?"

"Well this didn't come from the specific zygon that I've encounter. This is actually from a sub-species of zygon. And they're not the friendly type." He typed at the computer and on screen there stood the creature that attacked the TARDIS and tried to kill Robert and I. "This sub-species of Zygote were known to us Time Lords as Rusalka Zygon."

"Wait Rusalka, why do I know that term?"

"In some of your human cultures, specifically the Slavic's, they were called sirens."

"Oh my god. So they are alien sirens too?"

"Well you met vampires might as well call for a siren ehh?" he chuckled but I looked at him crossly.

"So what the hell do they want?"

"Unfortunately I know. See this came from the one I just examined." He then pulled up some sort of Nordic writing that was engraved on what appeared to be the Siren's chest.

"And what does that mean? Doctor you know I'm still rusty on Nordic writing."

"It translated to one word as well as a date. QUEEN 1975." Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! No! NO! This can't be happening. Not to them! "And I'm afraid there's even worse news."

"Oh you just keep em rolling don't yah Doc."

"This one was a tracker. And a tracker of the Rusalka Zygons never come, unless there's a scout in place. So that means....."

"The scout is here. And it's probably gotten into the guy's circle ready to commit the extraction." I finished grimly.