Chapter Text
John was scared. He didn’t remember much of the night, only that he had been at a session with Spector really drunk. He was always drunk these days. But he wasn’t at the studio, he was...laying down? “Phil? Phil!” He shouted.
A weight got on top of him. Had the room not been so dark he would have seen that it was George Brand trying to hold his swinging limbs at bay.
But to John it seemed much more sinister, a strange person climbing on top of him only made him struggle more and keep on shouting. He was shouting for Phil or May to help him, but they didn’t seem to be around. “Get off me!” He shouted, wiggling like a worm.
Then he saw what had to be Spector appear from behind his attacker and sighed in relief, “Phil! Get him off me!”
But the man just shook his head and smirked an amused smile.
John gasped as his arms were taken and raised to the headboard. He started cursing at them both to hide his fear. Were they planning a three-way sex situation? John shook his head, “Get off me!” He shouted at them.
Phil tutted at him, “You just need to sleep this off, Johnny.”
John hated to be called Johnny by the likes of Spector. He screamed obscenities at him and at the man on top of him, who was getting lower and lower. John kicked his legs but Spector grabbed those too and held them down, he tied those as well.
John saw May come in and gasped, “May! May, get them off!”
The young woman gaped at the scene, “What did you guys do!?”
The man got off him and walked towards her, “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. Just let him sleep it off.”
John shook his head at her but she sighed and nodded. “May! Get back here!” He yelled as she left with the strange man following her.
Phil Spector groaned at him and started to take off his ugly scarf, “Alright, shut it, Lennon.”
John tried to move away but Spector grabbed his face and stuck the scarf inside his mouth and tied it around his head, gagging him. John stared up at him with wide frightened eyes.
Phil laughed at him, “Look at you, Johnny! High and mighty no more, eh?”
John’s chest was going up and down at a wild pace. He flinched as Spector patted his thigh.
“You’ll be alright soon, just gotta sleep it off.” He said.
But John couldn’t sleep like this. He’d always had a strong fear of being held down, of not being able to move, to run. He shook his head and tried to bed with his eyes that Phil let him go.
But Spector just patted his cheek with a rough hand and walked away.
John let out muffled sounds of protest, pulling like a madman at his restraints.
Phil smiled at him as he opened the door, “I’ll be back.” He muttered.
John blanched, what the hell did that mean?? He kept on trying to get free after the door was closed and locked, but the ropes didn’t give out. He fell into the bed and closed his eyes, hoping that it was all a nightmare. But the coarse rope was digging into his wrists and the scarf was covering his nose and making it hard to breath well.
John was hyperventilating, shaking and heart beating wildly. His breathing was erratic and he couldn’t find the power to calm down.
He was lost.
The next morning Paul McCartney was outside of John’s LA residence, hoping to hang out with his friend. The sun was bright and the birds were singing. It had been a month since he’d seen John and he had shaved since then, no more moustache.
He rang the bell and waited for a few moments. There was no answer. Odd, there were like five people and many guests living in the house. Surely one of them had to be up? He rang the bell again and knocked. Again, no answer. Sighing, the singer tried the door and rolled his eyes when he found it open. He only hoped nothing bad had happened…
He entered the house and called out, “Hello? John? It’s me, Paul!”
Quiet. He looked into the kitchen and living room, they were messy but empty. Sighing, he dared to go upstairs. Paul only hoped that he wouldn’t find John and May in...compromising positions. His relationship with John had been over for over five years now, but there was still a pang in his chest every time he saw John be happy with someone else. It was selfish, especially considering Paul himself had a wife and kids, but that’s how it was.
Paul stood at the top of the stairs and looked around. “Hello!” He called again, “John? It’s Paul….McCartney.” Maybe he was being ignored.
But then he heard a quiet little ‘thump.’ He looked around, “John?” Was the man playing a game?
Another thump, slightly louder.
Paul walked to a door in his right, last he remember this was Brand’s bedroom. He’d been passed out in there last time. He knocked on the door, “Hello?”
There was no spoken answer, only a bed squeak. Paul rolled his eyes, it was people having sex. Great. He went to turn away but a sound stopped. It sounded like a cat? Very quiet and certainly not caused by pleasure. Taking a deep breath, Paul turned the lock and opened the door… And gasped.
John was there. The man’s bloody wrists were tied to the bedposts, his ankles in similar position. He was gagged with a fuzzy scarf that covered the majority of his face but Paul could still see tear tracks in his cheeks.
The older man’s eyes widened at him and he tugged at the ropes.
Paul ran to his side, “Johnny!” He went to untie the gag, it took him a long time because the knot was messy. Finally, it was off and he threw it far into the corner. “What happened?” He asked as he went to untie his legs.
John was taking in deep breaths and trying to get rid of the fuzzy hairs stuck in his mouth. “S-Spector,” he gasped out. “He, he tied me up and”- he coughed- “He said he would be back and I don’t...I didn’t understand I thought he’d rape me or…” He brought his aching legs close to his chest, “I don’t know.”
Paul fumed, “I’ll kill him.” He hissed.
John whimpered as Paul pulled on the rope around his wrists.
“I’m sorry, Johnny. It’s really tight.” Paul said. He was carefully to untie it without touching John’s wounds much but John still hissed and let out tiny yelps of pain.
The moment he was free, John jumped off the bed and curled against the floor.
Paul had seen the same thing years ago after a prank that had gone wrong. He knelt next to his ex-partner without touching him, “Johnny, it’s okay now. You’re free.”
John didn’t speak, he only offered a shaking hand.
Paul grasper it and held it close to his chest, “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
John started to take in deep breaths and his body stopped shaking as harshly. He swallowed a few times, “I-I’m alright.”
“Why did Spector tie you up?” Asked Paul, helping John sit up.
The older man hugged himself, “I don’t remember much...I was at the studio? I think, yeah.” He shook his head and frowned, “Then I was here in this bed, there was someone on top me and Spector arrived and, and he-“
“It’s alright, John.” Paul forced his voice to be calm, “Did he...do anything?”
John shook his head, “No. He was just, just creepy.” He sniffed, “He scared me.” He admitted in a whisper.
Paul drew him into a hug, “You’re alright now, baby. Where’s May?”
John scoffed weakly, “She came in, saw me, left with them.” He felt betrayed and angry and abandoned. Nothing new in John Lennon’s life.
Paul bit his lip, “Wanna come with me? We’ll go eat something, take your mind off this.”
John smiled at him, “Thank you, Macca.”
John hadn’t called him Macca in years. Paul grinned as he stood, “Come on then.” He offered a hand.
John took it.