Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the end of their break, the boys had finally finished filming their new film, A Hard Day's Night, and had just a little time off before reuniting once more for a world tour. Although, Brian insisted it was about time to get back to work, none of the boys were impressed that they had such small time off.

Ringo, who spent the last two weeks visiting family, spent some time with George, and relaxing at their homes. Ringo and George spend a lot of time together, perhaps they both relate over the fact John and Paul tend to take the spotlight more ( or that they are both bossy control freaks, who wouldn't let them get much say in any way).

George also spent time with his family but was spending a lot of his spare time with his new girlfriend Pattie Boyd, who he had met on the set.

The two weeks went by too fast from the boys' perspectives, but each of them admittedly were excited for their tour. Their fame and success was inclining faster than they could process it. Fans were going crazy over them, a concept they couldn’t quite understand. Shows were sold out. Every inch of spare time was filled with either photo shoots, interviews, or performances.

John had visited Mimi and gone around to see a few others to catch up with in the little time he had, trying to fill in time since he no longer was seeing Cynthia. And although they were only off for two weeks, John was starting to feel lonesome again, not just for the band, but for Paul. He enjoyed Paul's company the most. John believed that Paul was the only one that could even come close to understanding him. He also recognised Paul as someone who was just as musically inclined and determined as he was.
But John had been thinking to himself a lot lately. He was starting to think and feel strange things more and more, but couldn’t pinpoint a strong purpose or reason to them. He somewhat knew that if his conclusions were right, then he would have to shut his new feelings down, it just wouldn’t be done in a society he was in. After two weeks, while being back in Liverpool, John decided he'd visit a familiar park, before he had to leave again.

*
Paul and John would go there, before, after, or even ditching school when they felt like it. They would walk and chatter away at whatever came to mind. John always looked forward to those times where he could let go and be loose, there with Paul. He could be completely himself because he knew he wouldn’t feel judged if he let his guard down. John was so used to putting on an act around others, and John found a liking to the fact Paul saw through his tough act.
*

While sitting under a large acorn tree, enjoying the autumn breeze, bright blue skies and soft grass; weather that came rare to England, he longed more and more for Paul to be there with him. If only he wasn’t away visiting his family of a thousand different relatives, which he “had to see otherwise one might get jealous”.
John was relieved he didn’t have as big of a family as Paul, but sometimes he envied it too. He hated the fact his father left at such an early age, and then Julia passing away not that long ago. John really only had Mimi and his step siblings, sometimes he wished he had more. But he knew he always had the guys. They were family no matter what, and even though John liked his alone time, he was beginning to miss them.

John's lips parted with his cigarette and he let out a huff of smoke, lazily watching clouds drift by. He was now deep in thought thinking about everything there ever has been and anything there ever could be. About the band's success, what he would do later, the stupid joke that nobody picked up on yesterday, the movie which just premiered, their upcoming tour, the crazy fans, and most of all Paul.

Paul had spent his time catching up with all his Aunties, Uncles, Cousins and grandparents, and finally relaxing with his Father Jim and Mike back at home.
Jim had recently fallen ill. Although it was only a flu, Paul was much more anxious about it then he probably should have been. Paul believes he ‘has every right to do so’ he told Mike. Because in response, Mike thought Paul was just being paranoid, like Paul usually is, and reassured that their father would be better in no time. Paul did in fact have every right to be scared for his fathers health. The man is in fact aging, and after all he is Paul's only parent. Which meant that if he was to suddenly go it would tear Paul to shreds. Ever since his mothers tragic passing, Paul's immediate family has always been close. They always looked out for each other, and Paul always admired his dad for everything he did for him and Mike. Losing his father would mean losing his hero, and Paul was not ready for that any time soon.

He wished Mike and his dad goodbye, after staying a few hours more than needed too. He really didn’t want to leave home. He not only felt like his break certainly wasn’t long enough, it was going to be hard leaving his fathers side. Paul put his luggage into Mal’s car, and spent most of the drive to the airport gazing out the window.
Paul now, in serious thought, was thinking about his troubles from the past few weeks. He had been having complications with his girlfriend Jane Asher. Although they enjoyed each other's company, they both knew they had strong beliefs and personalities, which clashed quite often. Paul has spent the last month or so reflecting on their relationship. He liked Jane a lot but deep down he felt like something was missing. The girl was smart, driven, and almost everything he could look for, but they still had troubles. He was also on edge the past few weeks because of his father, but also his mental state was starting to get confusing. Paul was usually good at keeping emotions at bay and/or hiding his true feelings. However, it seems like everything he has bottled up over the past couple of years is starting to arise. With new feelings and thoughts that are starting to unnerve him, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep it all inside. His grief, paranoia, stress of the job and success, along with relationships and feelings, have all been circling his mind. Playing in relentless loops, with obnoxious voices telling him that everything he does or doesn't do isn't good enough or that he'll never be able to do what he wants without consequence. It's driving him mad. But no matter how hard those silent restless nights are, where he lies awake thinking about nothing more than his troubles. He simply just won't talk to anyone.

Mal, keeping an attentive eye on the road, had picked up on Paul's unusual behavior. Mal had a soft spot for Paul, and Paul respected Mal in a similar way. To Mal, Paul was quite the joyous type. But now, on the way to meet the others at the airport, they sat in silence.“Are you alright, Paul?”. Paul, who didn’t realize he had been completely silent for the past thirty minutes after saying hello, removed his clenched fist from his chin, where he'd been leaning against the window. He tried to rearrange his thoughts, now scattered from Mal's interruption. “Huh…, oh.., sorry Mal. Yeah, I'm alright thanks, just thinking, y’ know. Lots to think about, with the tour.., the film and all that.” Paul mumbled the last few things off, knowing that it wasn't truly what he wanted to say.
“That's alright Paul. Suppose it was either that or you were busy thinking of another song in your head. You're always busy you are”. Paul let out a responsive laugh, “Ha, well yeah, you're usually right about that Mal. But suppose that's enough thinking for now, I've got a whole flight to do that! How's things been with you? Did you manage to get anywhere over the past couple of weeks, or has Brian tied you down and made you run around for him?”.
“Well you know, I did have to do a few things here and there, apart of being a road manager and all. But Brian did let me have a few days off to myself. Managed to catch up with a few friends and relatives. Even got to sleep past 7 o’clock once!”. Paul, who was still rather silent, found himself staring out through the window again. Mal, who hadn't noticed continued “ …shame though, having such a short break and all, I mean you guys deserve it more than anything. You're the ones who are always there, in the spotlight, centre stage, or answering stupid questions over and over again. I can imagine it's bloody tiring. I mean the work I do is a lot, but I can't imagine always having to be in someone's view or presence all the time…”. Paul responded with a quiet “yea”. He was still listening to Mal, and Mal did make a really good point. It was tiring always being in the spotlight, and Paul did think it could be another reason as to why he feels suffocated amongst his life and feelings, but he didn’t speak anymore and continued to listen while losing himself to his thoughts again. “..... But I guess it'll be good to get back into things, see the guys and all, are you excited for the tour?”. There was a silence for a few seconds before Mal looked over at Paul “ Paul?”. “ hm.., yeah. Yes it'll be good to see them, I mean, two weeks isn't a lot but I have missed the guys”. Mal heard the reply, but knew something was wrong.
Noticing changes in Pauls, or any of the guy's behaviors was something he'd picked up. When you spend a lot of time around people, you tend to pick up their habits and behaviors, and today, something was seriously troubling Paul. “You alright lad? Seem a little too deep in thought, you got something on your mind?".

“Thanks Mal, but I'm okay, seriously, just tired. We just finished a movie, and now we're starting the tour, and it's just I haven't had time to rest, or process anything for that matter. But not to worry, One day with the guys and routine will kick back in”. Paul gave a weak smile, trying to insist he was fine, but Mal knew better than to keep nagging, Paul was a stubborn man, if he wanted to share something he would. “Well, Paul, I’m always here if you need to talk”. Paul thought that was sweet of Mal, after all he is like a giant teddy bear, but it’s not really the kind of thing you discuss between blokes, especially not guys from Liverpool. Still, it was nice. “Thanks Mal”. Then, once again, Paul fell into deep thought.
The film and tour were only surface level troubles, the least of his concerns. The fame didn’t bother him much and neither did the spotlight; he rather enjoyed it in all honesty. Under the surface it was his dad and Jane that he was a little more concerned for. But still, beneath all those thoughts, were feelings he didn’t understand. He thought he did, but every time he tried to make sense of it, reason with it, there was no easy answer. He was missing John and he didn’t know exactly how or why.

Meanwhile, John was due to get picked up by Neil sometime later in the afternoon. So he leisurely spent his time doing whatever else he could, instead of packing or getting organized. The thought crossed John's mind. He knew if Paul were here, he would surely be mothering him by now, ‘why haven't you packed, you should be getting ready y’know!’. John smiled at the thought. Paul's persistent bossy-ness could be annoying sometimes, but he enjoyed being pampered, or more like he enjoyed the attention Paul gave him. He took another hit from the cigarette and squished the butt into the dirt beside him. Leaned back with his hands behind his head and thought about what Paul would be doing at this moment. Lately most of John's thoughts had been filled with something to do with Paul, he didn’t understand why. At first he felt embarrassed when he realized that he shouldn’t be thinking so much about his friend- that was it right?, they were just…friends?
But.., no-one could hear his thoughts ..right? So he had nothing to worry about.

Suddenly, John’s train of thought quickly derailed as an acorn fell and hit him directly in the forehead. Shaking his head, cursing, he got up. Maybe it would be better to not sit underneath a tree that can harm you at any point. Filled with a vengeance for acorns now, he continued on his way, walking to nowhere, still thinking of everything. One thing was for sure, he was looking forward to the flight, and…. the tour. They really had made it, and he knew it would be his mark to the world to say ‘yes! Scroungy, no-good, Lennon, did make it, so screw the lot of ya!’.

John eventually grew tired of walking and headed back to his apartment. He had most things still in his bag; he found no reason to unpack if he was gonna leave again soon anyway. He threw the last few things in and carried his things to the door. Coincidentally, Neil pulled into the drive, just in time. He grabbed his jacket and looked into the parlour. He wondered how long it would be this time until he was back home. It felt weird thinking that though. It wasn't really home. It felt like ‘base camp’, where he filled in time between tour and studio work. His real home was with Mimi or with the Guys.

Meanwhile Neil had arrived on the doorstep. “Hello John, Long time no see!”, “Hello Neil, yes it has been such a long time. Anymore than two weeks and I fear I'd forget what you looked like”. Neil laughed “well I'm surprised you even know What I look like, considering you can’t see anything more than two inches from your face”. John was quick and witty, a strong characteristic of his, much admired by most around him. But it also meant you had to be fast on your feet otherwise Lennon could walk right over you.
John gave an eye roll.
“Well hop in, I'll put your stuff in the car”.
“Thanks. Hey Neil, do you think the other guys have left yet?”.
“They should have. Last I heard George and Rich were taking George's car to Brian’s and they were going to the airport from there. Paul should be on his way, but he was with his father so I don’t know all the details about that, except Mal was driving him”. John nodded in agreement and got into the passenger seat.

Soon enough all the Beatles were on their way to the airport, ready for another Beatlemaniac adventure. They were all in for a hell of a ride.

Chapter Text

Paul eventually fell asleep against the window. He felt so drained lately.. Sarcastically he thought to himself, ‘who would've thought that overthinking would be such a hard job’. But he managed to get a couple of hours of peace before he heard a tap tap at the window. Paul noticed the car had stopped so he assumed they had arrived. However, at first he thought it was Mal, but wait, wasn’t he inside the car?. Paul peeled himself away from the door to look at the figure standing outside. He opened the door with a big grin. “Hey Johnny!”.
“Get enough beauty sleep, did ya?” John said admiring the sleepy man, approaching him.
Mal started unpacking the luggage from the boot of the car, and to find Neil to help ready the plane.

Paul chuckled and they embraced in a quick manner, there was no need for it to be longer than a few seconds but secretly they both wanted to hold on longer. Before they could get another word in, George snuck up beside them “So you two gonna get married or say hello to the rest of us?”. In union they both were delighted to see George and Ringo “Georgey! Hello Rich!” “How are you fellas?”
John gave George and Ringo a quick pat on the back. “ How long have you guys been here?”. Ringo put his carry bag down beside him, probably filled with specific snacks he usually carried on board, since he was quite a fussy eater and hated airplane food. “Not much longer than you lot, we wanted to see if there was anything interesting inside, but there were too many fans, it would've been a death trap.
“Well, no point waiting around much longer, suppose we should be able to get on”, Paul said as he observed that the plane was about ready for them and the fans seemed to be increasing around the gates.
They each followed each other up the stairs, waving goodbye to home, and their beloved fans.
Brian was waiting on board, he felt that the boys should catch up briefly before he bombards them with the boring parts of the job.
“Ello Brian”, John said as he made his way down the aisle. “Evening John. Hello boys. Good to see you all again”.
“Same to you Bri” Ringo said. George replied, “Don’t suppose next time we go on holiday, we could have a little extra time?”. Brian smiled, he knew there were comments to be made.
“Well, you know how busy the schedule is. We have places to be and things to do. Fortunately, I was able to get you lot, more than a few days off!”. “Besides that, aren’t you excited? It's a very big deal this tour. One of your biggest breakthroughs yet! And I'm so proud of you all. Let's hope our luck doesn’t run out”.

Each with smug grins on their face appreciating their success, John shouted “Where are we going fellas?”,
“To the top Johnny”,
“And where's that fellas?”,
“To the toppermost of the poppermost!”

Brian Gave them a run down on the things they'd be doing over the next month or so to come, George and Ringo sat facing each other and spent the first couple of hours catching up and playing cards. Paul sat quietly, listening in to John opposite him, who was talking with Brian about business things, and trying to negotiate how to not do as many interviews or photoshoots as possible. But to his dismay, Brian had them fully booked. “ It is good for your image and the media. You four are the world's hottest topic. They want to know about you, and unless you'd rather have them be in your private life 24/7, then the only option is to arrange time for you to go to them. Remember, they're like fruit flies, they need to feed, and they are hungry for anything they can get their hands on. It's a part of the fame boys, you must have been aware of that when you started”.
“Yes, but when we started we were not aiming for fame, just to make those around us happy, and ourselves”.
“Paul's right, you know. We didn’t sign up to be pestered about and looked at like zoo animals”.
“Yes John, but it is a part of the job, it's as simple as that, you simply can’t have one without the other. Besides, you never know how long it'll last, so I suggest enjoying it for the time being”. Brian got up from his seat to grab a refreshment, and checked to see how Neil and Mal were doing, who were also playing cards at the other end of the plane.

John turned to Paul who was in his own thoughts. “I hope we don’t have to do too many interviews, those things bore the hell out of me! And those reporters are so bloody rude”.

“ I hope so too, Johnny. For some reason they love to ask me all the business questions, like I have everything to do with it, it gets annoying. They don’t even balance out the questions among us. Or if they do, they're usually incorrect or unrelated things that we shouldn’t have to sit around answering. But, like what Brian said, "It's a part of the job, isn’t it?”.
“So best not to dwell on it then. Besides, with my jokes and your humorous drawings, the time goes by quite quickly”.
They both gave out a laugh. Last time they were interviewed Paul drew, a reporter amongst the crowd, but he drew him in such a way that emphasized all the harsh features, making him look like a hideous cartoon. It probably wasn’t the nicest thing to do but they boys had to entertain themselves somehow, plus they all got a laugh out of it.

George Huffed and sighed, laying down his horrible hand of cards, after losing to Ringo in Last cards, again! Ringo was always a right challenge when it came to cards. He often won in record time or made you pick up so much you didn’t even want to finish the game. He picked up a specialty for playing cards, bored games, and chess as he spent a lot of his childhood in hospital. Poor Ringo was always ill, so he spent his free time with anything he could get his hands on, he could knit pretty well too.

Brian sat down before George could get another word in to his sore-losing excuse, “it's not fair you know, with you being all experienced and that”. Ringo replied with a cheeky grin, “Maybe cards aren't cut out for ya. Ever tried juggling”. George laughed “ Well…”. “Boys”. Swiftly Brian sat down beside George and interrupted their talk. “We have an interview booked when we land. I tried to ask them to keep it short, so we can hope that they'll do just that. Afterwards, we'll get you boys straight to the hotel. I assume you know the procedures for that by now. Once you're there you'll have the evening to relax. Tomorrow you have rehearsals at the venue, but that is not until the afternoon, so you will be able to sleep in for most of the morning. We've had a long flight, and there's many more busy days to come. So relax and rest up because I have a busy schedule for you all. But-”Brian looked up with a pleased and proud look, “Besides that. Are you excited for this tour? It's going to do you all the best you know, I can feel it!”.
“Well Bri, we're all very excited, but if you have us moving at a million miles per hour, we won't see a blimen thing”. “He's right ya know” George looked up to Brian in agreement to Ringo. “We need time to catch our breath, I know we've had our share of busy life in Hamburg and all, but those interviews can be a bloody brain killer”, "We'll be dead before we even reach a week!”.
Brian smiled. You are all very alike aren’t you. Too worried about all that stuff. Like I stated to John and Paul, it's just the little parts of the job you have to do. The rest of it is for you to enjoy yourselves, live that to the fullest. Best not to think too much on the nitty gritty things. You'll have time to rest, I wouldn't overload you boys too much. I care about your health more than the image”. Brian took a drag from his cigarette. Geogre and Ringo gave each other a sly look, both acknowledging that brian would infant care about the image of the band just as much as their health. They did both know Brian meant well, but they couldn’t leave that unspoken unspoken. It was pretty clear Brian did care for them, but fame was definitely a priority too. Brian continued “Afterall, this is a major breakthrough for you all. We best not forget to celebrate. That is why-” Brian calmly stood up from his seat to exit...”Friday night, after your show, I suggest we celebrate. I talked to Neil and Mal, and they said they'll find us a few places that only the locals know, and where crazy fans won't bother you. Does that sound alright?”. Brian once again smiled at them, knowing they'd be happy about this decision. “Well yeah, that sounds great Bri”, Ringo said enthused.

“Let's just hope we can get away from the crowds, best not to say anything about it then”, George said trying to hide a smile. Brian agreed, “Word does tend to spread like a wildfire to the fans, you know”. Brian walked away and sat down at an empty seat next to the window and started to read the daily mail.

George and Ringo also got up from their seats. “Should we go see what the other two are up to then?”.“Alright,” Ringo said to George, then shuffling the rest of the cards into an organized pile.

“Hey boys!”, John said as he saw George and Ringo approach. Paul lifted his head from against the window and looked up, smiling warmly, welcoming George to sit next to him, whilst Ringo took a seat next to John. “Guess what Brians gonna organize for Friday night”. George said with a mischievous smile. “Yeah Brian said he'd let us go out after the show”, John said, letting a smile creep out from behind his cigarette. “Isn’t it great”’, Ringo said. Paul piped up, “He's finally letting us go out”. John pitched in again, “yea, every other time it's, ‘you've got to stay inside, it's too crowded, too dangerous…, i've got to keep an eye on the lot of you’” John mimicked. George exhaled his cigarette and added, “or its, ‘you should be doing something productive like writing to fans or a new song’ like being on tour is’nt productive enough sometimes”. Paul rolled his eyes at the annoying memory “ But I guess we've deserved it, ay boys” he said excitedly. They all had proudness in their eyes. They all knew they had finally made a defining mark in their career; infact they knew they had promising careers, which meant that they had made it in the world, to the toppermost.

Eventually they broke off to their own conversations. Paul was talking to George and caught up with him on the topics of his family, New girlfriend pattie, and what he did in his free time. Likewise, John and Ringo caught up with each other.
George was talking to Paul. “So how's the old man doing? Mike said he came down with something last week”. Paul looked confused and a tiny bit tense for a moment. “How’d you know da wasn’t well?”. George continued, “Caught up with Mike downtown last week you see. Was out shopping with the lady and he happened to mention it”.
Paul Looked down to his hands briefly then up to George again. “He's alright, he's doing better. Just a cold you know”. But deep down Paul was more concerned than he seemed to show. Jim wasn’t doing as better as he had hoped he would have been by the time he left. Besides he was paranoid that it would maybe not be something more than a cold. He knew what a sickness could do to a person in the worse case scenario. The idea kept him on his toes, but he didn’t want to alarm anyone. Or at least seem like he was overreacting.
“Well I hope he recovers soon then, he's in good hands, no need to worry. I'm sure Mike will look after the guy, if the stubborn man lets him that is”. George smiled warmly. He has known Paul and his family since they were kids. He knew what kind of man Jim was, but he also knew that part of his stubborn character also meant he was strong. So best not to worry, but he could sense Paul was, he understood why.

At this point John had somewhat tuned in to their conversation, he couldn’t help not focusing on Paul for too long. But unfortunately he picked up on George's last words. “Who's in good hands?”. John looked concerned, but also couldn’t help himself from being nosey. Especially if something had to do with Paul, (but that was a part of his jealousy he didn’t understand he had anyway).

Ringo looked towards the other three, suddenly wondering what had been said since John pointed it out, and listened carefully.

Paul now more tense since he now had their attention on a subject he didn’t want to bring up. “It's nothing. Da’s just sick. He'll be fine, so don't worry.” Paul started unconsciously picking at his calluses on his fingertips as a sign of uncomfortableness. “Sick how, he's alright?” Since John had known what Paul had gone through, losing his mother to an illness, he always had an anxious feeling just as much as Paul did. He always cares for how Paul feels, and if Paul was nervous he was. They had bonded alot, over both their mothers passing, so they cared for each other in such a special way. They had each other's back. Seeing Paul picking, knowing that he was showing signs of worryness, unnerved him.
“Trust me, it's just a cold. The man will get over it, Mikes there. So yea, he'll be fine.” Paul let out a heavy breath. If only the fact his father hadn’t been sick for a few weeks, and had recently gotten mildly worse, then he wouldn’t be too worried. But the man was once again getting old, so it was a nervous thought. But he knew he would be smart enough to see a doctor if it got too bad. With that, Paul had a thought to call Mike once they got to their hotel, to check in with Mike and to make him see a doctor as soon as possible. It would do both Paul and Jim some good.

John looked at Paul sincerely with a somewhat worried expression. But if Paul insisted he was fine John had reason to believe it, because he too knew the man well enough to know he was a stubborn old git and wasn’t going (hopefully) anywhere too soon.

*
The lads spend the next few hours talking and catching up with the rest of the crew (Neil and Mal etc), sleeping, eating, and doing what not. They eventually land in Rome, Italy. They get off the Plane, and are welcomed by numerous fans who came to see them at the airport. Unfortunately it is always quite a mission trying to get out and get anywhere as the fans swarm the gates and exits, all just trying to get a glimpse of either of the boys.
They make their way to the venue where a welcoming interview takes place. It is over within an hour. They once again take off, and head towards their hotel. The boys do appreciate that now they are famous and making fortunes, their hotels are pristine-most of the time,, and not like Hamburg where it was cold, cramped, but cheap!.

Chapter Text

After a long flight and dreadful interview the boys sluggishly make their way to their hotel where their luggage had already arrived, thanks to the hotel staff; they always got top treatment. “Wow, our own room!” George said in excitement. “Well Brian this is a bit of a step up from the last place don't you think”, John said smugly. The last hotel was in fact a cramped single room with two bunk beds. Thank god they only had to stay one night. “Well boys, that was a one off procedure, I hope you can understand that I try my best to make sure you are all comfortable. Your rest is important to me, besides! You've worked hard enough that I thought why not rent out the penthouse for this week!”.
John took one of the pillows of the couch in the living room area, and whacked Ringo behind the head with it “ Woo yeah”, Ringo clearly seeing how happy John was about everything, fed off of his adrenaline and picked up another pillow from the sofa whacking him in the side. They tussled a bit till George took one of the smaller cushions and started to attack Ringo and John, adding to the chaos.
Paul stood there in amazement while Brian went to the kitchen to turn the kettle on. Paul wanted to join in but he didn't have the energy to do so, he started walking towards his room carrying his overnight bag when BOOF. He felt one of the cushions hit him in the back of the head. He turned around with a creeping grin on his face. Noticing Paul was wandering away, John threw a pillow “ Not going off to get your beauty sleep just yet are we Princess?”. Paul hated the name ‘Princess’. “Haha John” Paul then bent down and picked up the cushion, hurtling it in John's direction; However tired he thought he was, he couldn't help it now.
After a wicked match of beating each other up with sacks of feathers, Brian declared “Boys. Boys! That's quite enough now, I understand the excitement but slow down before you take someone's eye out!, Gosh…”, he followed by placing several cups of tea on the dining table.

All huffing and grinning, the boys each took to a cup “An eye out? Geeze, imagine what we could do with proper weapons aye fellas?”, Brian rolled his eyes at John's sarcasm.

Meanwhile Paul decided to use this time to call his father. “Hey Da, we've arrived at our hotel, how's your day been?”. “Well ‘ello Paul, That's good news!, I hope you're well looked after, you big rockstar and all..”. Paul smiled at this, Jim was always so proud, even if Paul thought he was being a bit over dramatic at times.
“...'ve been alright son, nothings changed, no need to worry, this old mans not going anywhere *cough *cough*”. They shared a few other things that happened in the time being, till Paul brought up his concerns.

“Da I know you think you're alright but promise me you'll see a doctor soon, I don't even think waiting till it gets worse is a good idea anymore”, “ Son, I know, I'll see to it aye, don't want to worry you or nothin. I'll get Mikey to call up tomorrow mornin’, how about that”. “Okay,... thanks Da”. Paul unconsciously started to nip at his calloused fingers again. “Now I better hang up so we can both get some rest. I'll ring you soon okay Dad”. “Okay Paul, take care now”. “You too”.
And with that he hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. He surely had nothing to worry about, at least he could rest now that he knew Jim was seeing a doctor.
He wandered back over to the table and picked up the last cup of tea, sitting down on the sofa next to John who was well settled, hanging his feet up on the edge of the coffee table.
Ringo, George and Brian sat opposite to them. They got to talking about the week's plans and the agenda was for the next day. Eventually, each peeling off to their rooms.
“Ahhh-haaa” John let out a yawn and with that the conversation came to an end. “Well, as much as I'd LOVE to sit here and talk all about tomorrow's plans, I have a date with a double bed and warm blankets”. “So it's you who Really needs his beauty sleep huh?” Paul said quickly. John stuck out his tongue, knowing he had just been served his own medicine, half despising and respecting Paul for doing that. However, they all agreed it was time and they made their way to their rooms. Brian left the suite to his room further down the hall, next to Neil and Mal, who had both confined themselves to sleep after getting the boys sorted when they arrived.

It was roughly 9pm when Paul got himself ready for bed, however spent the next two hours awake in deep thought, staring into the darkness of his room.
Ringo and George ended up chatting, before organizing themselves to sleep.
John, who usually slept like a baby, never waking to anything apart from a very annoyed Paul or Neil, slept for just over an hour before finding himself too restless, and laid awake thinking, staring into the darkness of his room.

Paul's thoughts had got the better of him again. A rabbit hole of fears and unresolved trauma only created more room for unnecessary troubles. His mothers anniversary was coming up soon, it was going to be ten years. Ten years was a long time, and because he spent most of that time focusing on keeping a float and keeping up with responsibilities, he never processed his feelings. Once he became ‘less distracted’ in a way, he started to realise he was missing her more and more, not just as a figurehead, but the motherly nature he longed for. He didn’t know how to cope with this empty feeling. Concluding that it was something he was going to have to get over, but it was harder said than done. Perhaps it was why he was missing something from Jane. He realised that maybe his loss of something had turned into a bad habit of searching for a replacement in others. But Jane didn’t give that to him, she didn’t care ‘over the top’ for him because she was just as independent as he had taught himself to be. But deep down he really just wanted someone to care and pamper him, but that…was weak wasn't it?. And so, it was another issue he had to figure out. On top of that he had his father, which wasn’t so scary, now after the phone call.
But he had another scratchy thought that kept coming back to him. He laid there in his rather empty double bed, noticing the cold and longingness of someone beside him. He kept himself up over a few recurring thoughts he'd had about John. But why did he keep thinking of John? Although they had just spent an entire plane ride together and were about to start another tour together, he missed his presence already. But it was unusual.
He started feeling differently about John more and more recently. But even if he thought you know… that way, John would surely punch him in the face or disown him, you would not get away with calling John Lennon, the big bad wolf, a queer. So Paul could never mention anything EVER!
After a while Paul turned on his bedside lamp and got up from his whirlpool of dead end problems. He figured he'd have a crack at writing a song, or even just throwing down some lyrics, which he knew were more just a way of journaling some emotion; that he might find inspiration in later on. Paul, being very reserved, can find reflecting on his troubles to be too much at times. He knows if he can distract himself with something which means he can hide away the thoughts (until one day they explode, but if it's not today then it doesn't matter right).

Meanwhile, John was awake for one issue mostly. Although he had his troubles over Julia, he wasn't as hurt as one would think and it wasn't the over bearing problem. He was able to put a face on, trying to make his life make sense, but when all came crashing down again, he felt himself just returning to what he knew before..being alone.
On top of it, despite being with a ton of girls and even nearly having a long term relationship with Cynthia, they just didn't fulfil his needs. John, too, was always looking for someone who would be able to fill a sort of void he had within himself. But no one ever made him feel so complete, growing comfortable with loneliness, unless he was with Paul. John always had a curiosity for the male gender, but forbidded a soul to know ( he'd have their faces kicked in). Even so, he felt himself unable to fathom mentioning it to Paul. Not so much that he felt weak for feeling this way, but that Paul came off as the straightest guy he knew. John figured he felt this way because there was something special between them. Something more than just being mates. They could have an entire conversation without speaking, they knew each other inside and out, they always felt safe to confide with each other, they just got along so well and most of all it was clear that they cared for each other, which is what John was starting to get attached to. So surely there wasn't something…there?
Despite accepting being alone, John was insecure, afraid of being left behind. With the insecurity, came the jealousy, which couldn't be helped. It would get so bad sometimes that he would push the ones he loved the most, further away. It would eat at John how much he would self sabotage, but he just didn’t know how to get over it. So often, he would find himself guilty for fighting with Paul, whether it was being too competitive because he had a ‘reputation to withhold’ or it was that he was jealous that Paul was giving his attention to someone else. A part of him wanted Paul for himself, but he couldn’t say that because he would either say something stupid or Paul would disown him. John wouldn't be able to handle losing Paul.

Even with John having almost the exact feelings that Paul had, neither of them knew about it. It was one secret they had managed to keep to themselves completely.

John decided it was enough of reflecting on silly thoughts that had nowhere to go and put a dark blue jumper on. He left his room and headed down the hallway to Paul's room, his feet hitting the cold stone floor, echoing loudly in the quiet hours of the night.

He stood there awkwardly after a couple of knocks, not really knowing why he was now there, with no plan other than to see if Paul.

The sudden knocks on Paul's door snapped him out of his hazy focused state, mumbling to himself what could it be “at this hour..” with a huff he opened the door, and to his surprise there stood John in his dark blue sweater and grey night pants looking clueless and tiresome. Before Paul let himself question the shivering figure, he let himself into the room which was warmer than the lonesome hallway.

John did half expect Paul to be sleeping but just as he noticed the light golden glow from underneath the door, Paul opened the door. John held his breath in a little at the sight of the man, he was only in his pyjamas but god he looked good in that fitting black top and red plaid print pants. Before John forgot too much of what he was doing, he let himself inside. He slumped immediately at the warmth engulfing him.
The rooms themselves were okay, but one thing is for sure with these fancy places is that the sleek designs and modern spaces just dont hold enough warmth if no-ones are there to occupy it (John thought whilst waiting for the door to open). Sort of like some metaphor in the way, that's why John prefers his roots of the working man's home, it's cozy and filled with the life that lives there, not the empty minimalist rich look that lacks character.

“What are you doing awake at this time Paul, thought you were tired”.
“Well I could ask you the same thing, after all you are suddenly standing in my room..? But- tired can mean many things anyway John, but suppose I just couldn’t sleep, what about you?”

“Yeah, I couldn't sleep either”. For a moment nothing was said, both unsure of what to make of this situation. Paul, thinking of why John wouldn’t be sleeping in the first place when he's the one that's hard to keep awake. Where John, picked up on the ‘tired can mean many things’ so why was Paul awake?
John looked around and noticed Paul had his notebook out, seemed to be ticking away at another project, “getting a head start without me I see” John smirked, but when he looked up at Paul he didn’t exactly see the kind of humorous eye roll or brush off he expected. Instead there was something else behind his eyes. “Uh yea, just some thoughts, for something…” he picked up the notebook and closed it hoping John hadn't really read anything, which was a possibility since he didn’t have his glasses. “...it's nothing really, just loose ideas I’suppose”. Taken aback by Paul's behaviour, he question, “Okay… You alright though? You usually share everything, no need to keep your ideas to yourself! Unless you're planning a solo career already!”. John's efforts of easing the situation did not succeed as had hoped. Paul let out a smirk, “It's nothing, really John. It's not even enough to show you, you came in here before I had the chance to make much of anything, so don't worry, not much for you to get behind with”.

John seemed mildly convinced, but the feeling in his stomach that Paul wasn't telling him everything, was growing. So was tonight the night he was gonna creep his way into the dark corners of Paul's mind and figure out what it is that's been changing his behaviour recently? He was gonna test that.
John didn't mind late night talks, he would find out more and more about himself and Paul, and it never failed to end in a good laugh.

“Paul..?” John said in a low and serious tone”. Paul, surprised by John's persistence and sudden empathy, tensed. “Uh yea, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be..?”. John sighed “you know….” John was never one to get deep with someone else about his serious problems, and he also knew what it meant if he was to open the floodgates for someone else. Empathy startled him in a way, but he could manage that when it came to Paul. So he held his breath and prepared himself to really get under Paul's skin, after all he wanted to be there as much as he could.
“...you've been a bit distant lately, has something been bothering you?”. “Nothings wrong Johnny, just need a longer break that's all”. Paul tried his best to be composed but he was gripping the notebook so hard his knuckles were turning white. John picked up on this, “Paulie…?”. John grabbed his shoulder lightly and looked at him sincerely. Paul felt John's hand and looked up from the floor to his eyes, which made his stomach twist in knotts. He always knew John as the tough type, but if you were close enough to him, you could see the other part of him that was much more pure and kind. Though this side did not show itself much, it melted Paul when it did. Standing there now, looking back at John with so much care in his eyes, his shield gave way. He sat down on the bed and John followed beside him. “I..I don’t really know. It's.. a lot of things Johnny. Just a lot of little things that I shouldn't be worrying about but they all sort of add up and then it just gets…..”. “Overwhelming?”. “Yea”. “Is this what you came over for though?” Paul questioned. “..or was there something else? We both really should be getting sleep y’know”.

John knew Paul would try moving past the topic, but he was willing to put up a fight. “Well Paul, I did try but I guess I just came over here to see what you were doing. Honestly I didn’t come over here with an intention to do anything really, but I guess it's a good time to talk, ..properly”.
Paul let out a heavy breath and rubbed the back of his neck, knowing John wasn't going to let him off easy.
“I don’t know what you want out of me, its…its..”, Paul avoiding grave detail, trying to see how to talk about his issues on a surface level.
“Is it your dad?”. “Yea a little. But he'll be okay, he's seeing a doctor tomorrow- hopefully… and Mikes there”. “You worried about Jane as well then? I know things have been tough for you two for a while”. “Mmm Janey. She's.. busy, with her career, and I'm busy with mine. It just hasn't been working. Besides she just….”. Paul stopped, not wanting to get into the real reasons they aren't working, but how can he dig himself out of this whole Johns dug for him. “Just what..” “ Not working. It's just not working”. “Well can you tell me what's not working? If you can talk to me about it maybe you'll realise what it is and it can help you”. “John, I appreciate the help but really it's just my thoughts that I'm fighting against, I don't know how much I can tell you that will help or..” Paul stopped again “or what Paul?”, “ or freak you out I guess”. John let out a quick laugh/huff “Freak me out? Paul, when has that ever been the case? Besides I'm always scared you're gonna judge me over my own stupid fusses but you never do. You can trust me Paul I promise”.
Paul thought for a moment, how much could he tell John before he steps into forbidden territory. “Well.. it's not really working because- I think I don’t like her as much as I thought I did. And…” he took a deep breath “...It's not about the girls we meet on tour, or the flings we come across every now and again. But she's…. too focussed on other commitments, and I.. I need more I guess. And again I don't mean the sleeping around side of things… just someone…” He took a long pause “someone to be..there”. He looked down at his hands and began picking, “Gosh, I probably sound soft to you don’t I. Nevermind, that's enough of that”.
“No Paul..you don’t. If it's something that's really bothering you, it's nothing to be ashamed of. And I guess Jane can be a busy Lady but what about the other girls you've been with, what about Michelle, wasn't she nice?”. “What?! Michelle from the party last year, no no, I realized she didn’t like me at all, just the idea of me, thats…thats a different type of attention”. He made a realisation, “No girl I've been with, whether it was Dotti, or Michelle, or even Janey for that matter, have been It y’know. Why do none of them have… ?Er, I don't know. Like…” He tried thinking of an example, not sure where this was going. “...What even happened with you and Cyn, you two were great together…weren’t you?”. “Yeah well, she wanted a family man, to settle down and focus on a set future and well, that's not where my heart lied. I mean, we had the band and all y'know, we were just taking off, so she agreed it was best we parted ways”. “Mmm. She was a nice girl, I hope she does well. But John-, you see how I mean, they're just not it? Even if you're both busy, if you really care, you find time… It just seems hard to find someone who actually cares and is willing to appreciate who we are rather than what we are”. Paul let out a sigh and looked over to the desk then back to John, who was deep in thought now too.
“John listened to Paul's words carefully. He agreed with every word. Caring is important and if it's valued between both, you will find time. So yea, John guessed Cyn was the right person just at the wrong time. But deep down, his heart didn’t just lie with the band after all, it laid with someone mere inches from him.
They sat in a brief silence again. John's heart was skipping beats and was practically jumping out his throat to tell Paul he was there, that he would be everything for him but he just couldn’t, not yet anyway.
John didn’t know what to say next but found Paul looking at him, however Paul looked away once they locked eyes. “ I'm sure you'll find the right person one day Paul. It may not be now or tomorrow but you will, you're a good guy, any bird would be lucky to have you, even the stubborn ones”. Paul smiled, John's words meant alot to him, but god he wished how he could scream at him that maybe it wasn't a bird he was looking for. “Thanks John. Same to you”. “Anyway I think that's enough talking for one night”. By now the clock read 12.30, which was usually quite early for the Beatles but both were a little too exhausted to go much longer. “Yea alright, but hey..” John stood up getting ready to leave and looked down at Paul's tired hazel- doe eyes looking back up at him. “Don't hesitate to tell me anything, anything at all. Nothin’s too silly or over dramatic, I'd rather you talk to me than you get cranky or hide away, okay?”, a warm smile graced his face before he patted Paul gently on his shoulder before heading out the door. “John?”, he stopped. “Yes Paul?”. Paul wanted to say something but thought better of it. “Night”. “Goodnight”. And with that he made his way down to his room and eventually fell asleep, not before going over the entire interaction. Paul returned to bed, turning the lamp off and laying half awake again. He did feel better about sharing some of his worries, even if it wasn't the entire truth. But he was surprised John didn't shut him down at all, so maybe it's another step closer to telling him more, he just had to test the waters. John laid awake, feeling relieved that he had gotten through to Paul even just a little bit. Hopefully he will be able to come to him with other things, which he was sure there was, however he decided not to worry too much about it just yet.

Chapter Text

Groggy from sleep Paul and John awoke with the chirpy morning call of Mal, sent to wake them on Brian's behalf.
Whereas, Neil had the job of organizing the other two. Ringo, already awake at this hour, made no fuss. But George simply pulled the covers back over his head. “Come now George. It’s time to get ready. Breakfasts on its way! Surely you're starving by now”. George only groaned. It was an even battle between the importance of food and sleep, but right now, with a nice warm bed and soft pillow, the battle for food had no chance. “Right then”. And with that George was hit with a fresh chill. “Aye! What was that for?! Give ‘em back ya toss!”. George made an effort to tug the blankets back from Neils hands, but didn’t succeed. “Let's go. Chop, Chop.” With a huff, George rolled out of bed, combed his hair and went to meet the others in the kitchen.

Paul, had gotten out of bed, showered and tiredly made his way to the kitchen table. Carrying his notebook with him to fill in time while the others took another decade to get there. John, who had slept through Mal's first wake up call, was lost in a dream when his head abruptly hit the mattress. “Hey!”. Mal came back and noticed Lennon had made no effort to move. So without another thought he snatched his pillow from right beneath him; a pity since John looked the most at peace while asleep. “Sorry to awaken the sleepy bear but it's 7.20 now so get dressed, Brian needs you fed and out the door at 8. King's orders”.
Lennon, now in a disturbed mood, brushed his teeth and combed his spiky hair, not bothering to get dressed, heading to food first. Ringo had made his way beside Paul who was reading the daily mail. Ringo turned his attention to the TV- Headlines: “ I Beatles sbarcano in Italia”. The camera panned over many fans that had crowded at the airport and some of which who had camped outside the hotel. Things like this were not uncommon so they hardly paid attention to the reports. Paul finished with the paper just as George came to join them. “Mornin George”, “Mornin Rich, Paul”. “Sleep well, did ya?” Paul questioned, somewhat amused by his unsettled state. George looked back at Paul unimpressed “Was havin a good sleep till I was stripped of my dignity”. Ringo almost spat out his Tea “What on earth do you mean” he laughed . George started “Well…”. “Neil not wake you up with bed in breakfast and a foot massage did he?. You poor guy”. John said smugly, walking over to finally join the other three. “No. He didn’t” George said with an eye roll. “But I’don’t suppose you woke up with that either”. Ringo had picked up the News paper and began flicking through it as if anything would actually interest him. Paul began writing in the notebook again. John sat opposite to Paul, he hadn’t realised it at first but he was staring. Paul's hair always looked good wet, the mop top look made his bangs hang just over his forehead. It was a look John wished he could pull off, if it wasn’t for his fluffy auburn hair that turns into a rats nest each morning. Maybe he could do with a shower..? Eh, after breakfast. “Whatcha writin’ there Paul”, George noticed the boy go quiet growing concentrated on something. “Hmm?” Paul looked up. Noticed they were now all looking at him. It wasn’t unusual for him to be writing so why were they all so curious about it now? Especially John… Was he really that more distant than he thought? “Err.. Lyrics..I’spose”. The three accepted that, as none were particularly awake enough to wonder more. At that moment a trolley filled with all things that make a big English breakfast was brought in by Mal. They dug in like they hadn't been fed in weeks. John ate and headed off to the shower while the other three conversed.

At eighth they were all hustled to a photo shoot that Brian had booked for them.
They made their way downtown all in their tailored suits and Beatle boots. Having fun with the photographers, jumping over eachother and posing. Seems the excitement from the previous day had come back. Soon enough rehearsals followed and then shows, then eat, sleep, repeat for the next couple of days.
Nothing more was brought up with Paul's behavior but John still kept his eye on Paul. Mostly from concern but because Paul… was just hard to not look at.
Who would've guessed that scrawny, baby faced little Elvis look alike Paulie, would grow into a defined, tall, handsome young man. John somewhat hated the way he thought about Paul. It was as if he was acting like a bird, or better yet a Beatlemaniac bird. John had to admit though, Paul was a catch. And at times he knew he wasn't the only one who saw Paul this way. He sometimes grew protective of Paul, not just from lacking personal attention, but sometimes the way the world would look at him as if he were a snack; the worst thing was John was sure Paul was oblivious to it. John felt the need to look after Paul, or atleast keep him from others who could get in the way. He knew Paul probably wouldn’t swing a certain way, because yes, he caught lots of guys eyeing up Paul too. But it didn’t mean he ever wanted them to even get that close to his Paul. Besides all that he was still his dearest friend and they faced everything together.

Throughout the week Paul dragged himself to everything pre booked in his schedule whether he liked it or not. However, he couldn’t complain, since he had three of his best mates with him practically all the time. Though his mood had improved throughout the week, he noticed that constant knocking in his brain he couldn't manage to push away. There he was, trying to shove his feelings about John way down, but everyday John just was…John. Who knew a rugged, no good Lennon could sharpen up so much in a suit. He actually looked rather handsome. But Paul didn't like to stare too much or too long, afraid of his own thoughts and the fact that John would most likely call him out on it if he was in one of his ‘asshole moods’. He couldn't decide whether it was worse- John finding out and humiliating him or John being completely oblivious, meaning Paul had to keep it to himself forever. Nevertheless, Paul couldn't stop admiring John's masculine, strong looks, something Paul wished he'd have more of.

*

The week went past and to end Friday night, they settled for a good old game of monopoly. “Right. Since we're stuck up here with nothing but the same shit on TV and no birds to occupy us, what is it you want to do” George pitched to the group, sick of the boredom that was surrounding them. “How ‘bout Monopoly!” Paul said, with the first sign of excitement he’d shown all day. There was given several groans and hesitant sighs from the rest. “Oh come on. It's not that bad…if you're not a sore loser”. “Alright, but if you take my property again I'll thrash ya!” John in all honesty loved the game for its competitiveness, but sometimes he'd rather a pretty blonde or cold beer instead.
“If we're gonna play the game ain't nobody turning into sissies this time, alright?, s’just a game yea” Ringo piped up remembering the last time … ** “Fuck off, you're not king of the fucking caste y’know!” Paul said, collecting his money to buy. “I dont give two shits what you think. Baltic and Mediter are mine! And you know that!” John argued in disbelief. “John, you're bankrupt YOU DON'T HAVE A LEG TO STAND ON ANYMORE”. Before Paul managed to get another word in, he along with George and Ringo watched in amazement how fast a monopoly board can hit the back wall while the game pieces disappear into oblivion. With that, the game came to an end.**

“Yeah. We know” Paul gave a hesitant glance to John who acted like he had moved on, still senseing that John would 100 percent get pissy if he didnt have his way. John, on the other hand, was looking forward to having the chance to beat Paul this time. “I'll be banker this time then. That way I know yall aint cheatin’ and I wont get angry, swear”. “We're not the ones to be worried about cheatin” George said with usual suspicion. “George..” He placed a hand on his shoulder, smugly- “Why would I cheat, I play fair, don't I?”. Ringo laughed, Paul followed, both knowing Lennon was full of shit. “Oh, think that's so funny huh?”. John walked over and scuffed up both their hairs making it look like a tornado had torn through. “Whatever. I'm a banker, that's that so lets start before I fall asleep playing with you grannies”. “Were not the grannies if you're the one fallin’ asleep at 10pm” George said coping a side eye from Lennon.
The game goes on, round by round. Soon the board fills up with houses, all making sure Lennon had his properties to keep the peace. “John..?”, “Yes Paul?”. “Listen…I'm not saying youre… playing unfair, but how on earth have you been affording this and still have all those 100s left over?”. “Well you see, there's this thing called passing go. And you see Paul, that's when you collect 200. Okay.. so you see..-” .“Yeah I know that! But it aint adding up-”. “I agree with Paul, I'm gonna keep an eye on ya for now” Ringo cut in. “Okay okay. Nothing to worry about though”, John had in fact picked up an extra 100 each time round but who needs to know right.
The game got slow, George went bankrupt and Ringo wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this, since it was already 1.30am. “Listen, can you two sore losers hurry this up?! One of you quit or something so we can go to bed” George was equally as tired and was bored from the never ending battle between Lennon and McCartney. “It's okay if you two want to go to bed, no point watching us go round in circles” Paul said rolling the dice. “Actually you'll find it's a square Paul, thought you knew your shapes” John earned a well deserved scowl from his opponent. “Well let us know who wins then. I'm getting as much sleep as I possibly can before our big day of doing fuck all!” George got up stretching like he had the bones of a sixty four year old. Ringo followed suit, “remember not to strangle each other, please. Otherwise we'd have to find some other strays to fill your places”. “We won't”-P. “Promise”-J. The two headed off and were asleep as their heads hit the pillow. However, Lennon, determined to win this time showed no sign of stopping, and Paul wouldn't back down from a challenge.

It was pretty close, both running low on cash. Until Paul landed on one of John's properties, accompanied by a hotel and a rent so high it bankrupted Paul on the spot. “Hhhhh agh”. “HAHA Yeah, I win! Take that princess. BOOM”. “Hey, no need to boast about it” Paul gave him a stern side eye, mostly since John had called him that name again. John paid no attention, he had beat Paul and he was not gonna let it down. “Ha no cheatin here, just pure skill”. “Oh sod off, I'll win next time, you watch out”. “Ohhh is that so? Acting all tough now are we, does princess need a bandaid for your sore ass”. “Oh shush ya..” Paul turned around and grabbed a pillow from the sofa behind him and threw it at John's face. “John grabbed the pillow and crawled over to Paul, too fast for the boy to stand or move away. John started to wack him from all sides. Paul, now under attack, couldn't help but laugh at John's playfulness. He needed to find more ammo, so he started picking up the bits on the board and throwing them in John's face. “Oo, ah, sto…stop.. That” John, blinded already, couldn't see any better now that he had to close his eyes from the flying monopoly pieces. He started to jab at Paul's sides, making Paul squirm and laugh in hysterics. “Ayy!...Ah Stop it hahaha stop! Ah haha” Paul had no control when he was being tickled and accidentally kneed John in the stomach. “Ooof” John curled at the impact of Paul's knee, he couldn't help but fall on top of Paul, landing only a few inches away from his face. He couldn't tell if it was sudden pain or butterflies but he stomach began doing knotts.
Paul realised he may have hurt John when he heard him groan, but he landed over top of him, unable to do much about the situation if he'd wanted to. He found himself only inches away from John's face, blushing slightly. John realised how close he was and propped himself up. “You alright, I didn't mean to hurt ya, m’sorry Johnny”. Lennon laughed at Paul's sincerity. He was such a softy and was quite gullible at times. “Yeah I’m fine Paulie” he said with a grin. Realising John was okay he loosened up just a little. Before he could think John started attacking Paul again. “Heyyy ahahah..did ya..did you not just learn anything…haha. What..what are you thinking!” Paul managed to ask between fits of laughter and gasps for air. “M’ not” John liked to see Paul laugh and smile. Seeing Paul genuinely happy made John relaxed but he also loved to tease. Paul however, hated feeling hopeless and tried getting John back but it made no difference; John was firmer and stronger than Paul and did in fact have the high ground. They both paused, catching their breaths, each with large grins on their faces. For a brief moment they held strong eye contact, each wanting to say a million things, but not a word was spoken. They were so close that they both secretly admired each other's beauty before they realised they must've been there a little too long and went to move away, Paul blushing just slightly at the interaction. John noticed that, at first he thought he had imagined it, but then thought it was probably just from the tussle. “S’ getting’ late” Paul sat up not sure how to handle the tension “Lucky for us we have the day off tomorrow”. John stood from the living room floor, observing the mess they’d made with pillows and the game spread out everywhere. He held out a hand to Paul for assistance. Paul took it. It was brief and once again he hated thinking of it like that, but he… held his hand…only briefly but it was something. There was a shift in the air. John broke the silence “Well I guess we can deal with all this tomorrow, shall we see if the other two are asleep yet?”. Paul was relieved that John finally spoke “Ha what so you can brag to them now, let ‘em sleep, you have all day tomorrow to tell them,...well..today but...”. “They both grinned,neither of them ready to leave just yet.

Paul yawned and stretched, arms rising above his head lifting his shirt just enough that his v line was visible. Paul eyed his room, questioning if it would be a good time to say goodnight”. John, noticing what the shirt was revealing, regained consciousness when he realised Paul was staring off. “What uh.. Was it what you were writing.. Got any further since this morning”. “Well yeah..It's not much but you can have a look if you want”. Nervous, Paul still gave way to showing John his work. Thinking it'd be best if he could cover up his explanation of it rather than trying to justify it if John came to his own conclusions finding it himself. Paul turned towards his room, John following behind him. “It's just the start of something, another song, maybe for the next album”. He found the book on his desk, marking sure to find the right thing to show John. “So that's what you're ticking away at huh, knew you were getting a head start”. “Haha well, guess we could work on something together with the free time if you want”. “John nodded in agreement and started reading through the pages Paul handed to him. There were a few scribbles and lines written out throughout the page, one phrase stood out, ‘A love like ours Could never die, As long as I Have you near me’. It caught John’s attention. Paul had to be writing about a certain someone, and it certainly wasn't Jane; or maybe it was just another one of those things they shrugged off. “Looks good, like you're on track to something”. He handed the notebook back carefully as if it was a fragile love letter. “Thanks Johnny..I just need to figure a melody out for it or something, maybe you could help me later”. Paul put the note pad down, and turned the bedside lamp on, heart skipping a million miles an hour. Usually Paul wouldn’t give a second thought to letting John read his work. But this time Paul caught himself writing a personal memoir, not about Jane. With the irresistible urge to get an answer for everything, John pressed further. “Who's the lucky bird that this song belongs to this time?” initiating a smile, “Maybe one you had the other night? Rita? Or was it errr..Lucy? Gosh you go through them so much it's hard to tell which is which”. Paul deflected his comment, despite Paul being so caught up in complicated feelings, he always had time for a bird or two, whenever he managed to get enough privacy that is; he still felt guilty sometimes. “Oh haha, no it's.. Just this thing” he brushed off. “Thing?” John pried. “Yeah you know, just things, no girl in particular”. Suddenly Paul grew defensive “It's nothing really John! Just corny stuff as always”. Avoiding John's gaze he tried to move past him to turn the main light off, failing to make his argument strong. Paul's flustering and horrible explanations meant he was lying. Paul flipped the switch, paused by John's annoying observation. “Paul, whatcha hiding” he said in a comedic manner, “Got some magical story or something. Or..? you're on somethin?. Gotta be something man if you're acting all scitterish like this!”. John, thinking *Just admit it Paul, Just say the magic words*, stood there, leaving the question open for Paul to answer. “John I can't tell you..because there's just…” he gave an ‘almost defeated’ sigh. “There's jussttt…?”. Paul tried pushing past John, but John held him by the shoulder, with the same irritating empathetic look Paul sometimes wished wouldn’t work on him. “Hhh just..someone who I'm thinking about but it ain't nothing, and it won't be. Alright, satisfied??”. John paused for a second. On second thought it could be Jane, maybe Paul was rethinking things. But then again, wouldn't he just say it was Jane if that was the case, he’d told him their problems before. “Seems like this..someone.. has got you running in circles. The great Paul McCartney! defeated by some simple bird! Brought down by this mysterious someone…, This has got to be good” John was treading on thin ice but he enjoyed the tease.

On the other hand it was driving Paul nuts. Did Lennon know something, why would he be so interested? God what if he knew Paul was interested in him, or worse even slightly thought of him as queer, that wouldn't be good if John started a rumor like that. Paul, now anxious for his reputation, figured just had to change the subject; John had other ideas. “Listen, I don't know why you're so interested anyway”, Paul turned around and tried finding something to focus on. “Because, whoever this is seems to be bothering you. Y’know if this is some bird that you are having trouble getting with then they must be crazy not to want you. And if it's Janey, well, we know already it aint going anywhere”. In most cases it did involve a girl of some sort. But. Not. This. Time. He let out a sigh and caught John's gaze. He had given up but knew saying something would make matters worse. That's when it really clicked for John. Paul never had problems with birds. If anything, he loved to brag about them or even talk about how bad or minuscule they were, it was never a problem. So if it wasn't Jane. It wasn't a girl. It was someone he wanted to be with…. John acted on his thoughts. If things went wrong, he would shut it down or better yet manipulate his way through things. Or he would be met with paradise. He turned to face a slightly distressed Paul, he took a small step, testing it at first. John placed a finger under Paul's chin and titled his head to him. Paul didn’t flinch…
Paul felt the tension shift, then before he could say something John had lifted his chin so intimately. Frozen with surprise and joy he didn't move away. Some part of him wanted to run, but at the same time, it was John! John Fucking Lennon, being soft, and …more than that, it was a gesture Paul couldn't believe was coming true! John leant in, pressing his lips to Pauls. It was hungry and both had been waiting too long. Paul, with his heart in his throat, slowly reciprocated it. They both thought they were losing the plot, surely none of this was real? John pulled back, trying to process what had just happened. Did James Paul McCartney seriously not pull away. He knew it! John felt a rush of joy overwhelming him.
They eyed each other in silence. Paul's doe eyes, suddenly filled with much more life, were gazing right into John's soul. All John wanted to do in this moment was let the years of pent up emotion take over and consume Paul, but he didn’t want his rough ego scare Paul off yet, afterall, he hadn't said anything yet had he. “Paul” John let out softly. Paul wasn't thinking. He couldn’t. The only thing he did know was to act, and so he did. Letting his shield collapse even further Paul smashed his lips into Johns again. Caught off guard, John raised his hands to Paul's waist. Still unsure as to where he could touch. However much John thought he could resist, his hungry hands trailed Pauls back. Just before they got too carried away with each other Paul grabbed John's bicep creating space between them. “John…I..I …you?” He didn't find the right words but John knew exactly what he was saying. “ It's okay Paul” he smiled and they lent in again until Paul had come to another stop. Paul had been taken aback that John reciprocated his feelings, at least slightly. But they couldn't possibly be together, especially not them. They’d be imprisoned, and they had eyes on them all the time so they wouldn't be able to do anything ever! It was just too complicated; a reality he now realized despite wanting to work it out. “John.. we…. It's.. too dangerous”. John suddenly felt a panic rise in him, he began to feel insecure that Paul was pushing him away. “What. What's too dangerous? No need to be worried, just don't tell anyone”. “But, we could go to Jail. Someone could make a rumor, It doesn't help what they already say about me. Besides, what about George? Ringo? We..?”.

With a loss of words John let go of Paul. He was upset and wanted to deny the facts Paul was bringing up. Why did McCartney have to get serious? “Paul, the things people say aren’t true, you know that, don't listen to them. They've just gotta make shit up sometimes to make their wages. Besides, we don't. Have. To. Tell. Anyone. Not even the others”. Despite Paul starting to see to John’s reasoning, John's defenses had stepped through. “But I suppose this was a mistake anyway. Best head to sleep, no reason to hang around when you clearly don't want part of it”. In two seconds John had left the room and disappeared behind his own door, leaving a very confused and insecure Paul in the middle of the room.

Chapter Text

Neither of them slept much that night. Lennon, continuously fighting with his guilt of potentially hurting Paul but reasoning it with the constant need to distance himself from comfort, made sleep an impossible task. Paul had somehow put himself to bed and laid awake, not processing much at all. Did John hate him? He laid awake wondering if this was a mistake or perhaps he really should talk to John about it. He decided he was going to try, he just needed to be alone with him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he have to go kiss Paul like that! Of course he was going to deny him, why did John think he even had a chance!?. He felt like an idiot. He convinced himself however, that atleast he was John fucking Lennon, if Paul decide to spin a story he would be able to fix anything with his fists if need be; though the thought of hurting Paul was never a first choice. Both eventually tired themselves out thinking. The next morning was painful.

Luckily, it was Saturday and none had anywhere to be. Though 9am was as far as Brian would let the boys sleep in. So per usual Neil and Mal had the Job of waking them up. Paul however, had been awake since 7 and was writing something new in his book, distracting himself from everything around him. When John finally walked into the room he caught Paul's stare, the prick looked almost sympathetic, so why would he shut him down? It made him furious.
Paul caught John's gaze and before they could send any messages to each other, John looked away. John's brows tensed in Confusion? Anger? Annoyance? Paul couldn't quite tell but he felt hurt, Paul looked down again.
There was a stiff silence around them. Not able to speak to each other about such a serious topic (because of everyone around them), was mind numbing. It was like being poked with a sharp knife each time they caught glances but not being able to do anything about it.
Eventually, the mood lifted when the topic of the evening's plans were brought to attention.
George, noticing the odd tension between the duo, which was common after any dispute, decided not to bring up last night's game. He thought that someone must've been a sore loser as always and tried to bring up something, anything, to draw their attention to. “So. Fellas. What's the plan tonight, where is it Brian said we'd go?”. Ringo had come around from the kitchen to join Paul at the table. “I heard the Rose and Crown could be good”. Paul looked up “Brian said he's found a place, somewhere where we wont get disturbed by too many fans, so it must be local”. Ringo noticed the flatness of Paul's statement, perhaps the games didn't go well. So much for playing nice.
John hadn't spoken a lick and went to focus on watching the telly instead. “Pretty sure it was something like er- cardo soul, or something like that” George said, chewing his toast with serious thought. “il caldo sole” John finally declared, without looking away from the tv. “Oh yea that”, George went for a shower, he couldn't help but feel like he was in between an old married couple having another pointless argument.

Ringo focused back to Paul “Well I'm sure whatever it is we'll have a good time as long as they serve us plenty of beer and good company, right”. Paul let a grin show, he agreed but he really didn't care for much small talk at the moment. About 20 minutes later Brian came in. “Good morning lads. Now you have the day off, I suggest you focus perhaps, working on a few songs for the album. Make use of your time, but-”, he let out a sigh reminding himself not to be so controlling “more importantly, relax”. “T’was what we were planning to do Bri”, John up, walked past him heading for the kitchen. Paul paused for a split second remembering how last night he had shown John his new song, was that it? Was that what made John make his move? Paul thought he had been less obvious. But if John had made that decision on his own, maybe there was definitely something to work on, he just had to get John alone.

They spent the next couple of hours loitering around, not really working on much, despite Brian's plea. Paul continued with lyrics for the last song despite its meaning being complicated now. Instead he abandoned the most recent one in case he wrote something unprofessional, waiting for a clear mind. John didn't pay too much attention to Paul's writing. He couldn't care less if he really was writing another message to John or a stupid love song that would probably make the b-side anyway. Instead he drew cartoons in his own book, and tried writing lyrics of his own, which were more a vent for him after last night's messy confrontation. John started writing, ‘ I’ve got every reason on earth to be mad’, he had to think about the word choice ‘Cause I’ve lost the only girl I had’. Thinking back to Paul's words before, he supposed it was dangerous, but it didn't matter. Love was love right, so why couldn't Paul see that- ‘ If I could get my way, I’d get myself locked up today, But I can't, so I cry instead’. He paused for a moment. It didn't appear to be much, it was how he was feeling, but then he thought it was too soft. He put the pen down and tried focusing on something else. God even when he felt he hated Paul right now he couldn't stop thinking about him. He lit a cigarette, and sat in the armchair in his room. He tried to think of something else so he decided to turn the radio on, which started playing the blues. As John relaxed more and more, engulfed by the acoustics of Country blues, he wondered when the band had drifted away from all the rock and roll. Whereas now, they tend to be writing more soppy love songs. Perhaps it's just what they were feeling in their own way. They could always cover the blues, or rock, but they only had relationships and what not to relate to; plus their ever growing fandom took to the love songs more than anything.

Sometimes he wished he could go back to the Hamburg days. They weren't treated as nicely and they were often overworked, but they had fun, real fun. Being up there on that stage in those cramped show rooms, with local fans and rock and roll. There wasn't a better feeling. Suppose it was still great now, with all the success, and they still got a kick out of performing, but it felt much more of a chore now. Though, he knew he would miss it if they stopped. He belonged with the guys. Ever since they started with their washboards, to leather jackets, and even tailored suits. But, are things going to be different now? Had he gone and fucked things up? Suddenly John started to panic again. He didn't realise it but he was on the verge of hyperventilating. He stood up, trying to move his thoughts with his body. It didn’t help. Oh God what had he done.

What would happen if Paul really took it badly, sure he could ‘fix’ things to save his reputation but by god, what about the band. What about the lads? If he really had spooked Paul, he would leave, then there would be nothing. He tried calming himself down, he had to talk to Paul, but everytime he went to do so his ego got the best of him. Instead he spent the day salty, he also thought that if Paul really had a problem with it he should be the one to speak first.

*
They had started getting ready to go out when John announced “M’ bringing some old friends of mine to the place, or at least they should be meeting us there, thought we might need the extra company depending how local this place really is”. “Oh” George wondered, “Who d’ya know that's in Rome right now”. “Well you guys should be familiar with Mark at least, he used to hang around with us back at school before his family decided to move here instead, but ya won’t know Sonny. I met him in art school while he was studyin’ abroad or somethin. Wasn't here for long but was a fun bloke”.
George and Paul had their interactions with Mark at different points. George didn’t speak to Mark so much on a count of Paul not liking him, so he felt obliged to act the same. However, Paul had the most beef with him. It appeared John would spend too much time with Mark at school, and Paul was jealous of that. So carefully, he tried turning John against him. John picked on his mates plenty, and it usually didn't have significance to who it was or how much was given out, but Paul found ways to emphasise the slander towards Mark. He wanted Mark to go away, just so that Paul would gain more of John's attention.
After a while of taking the unneeded extra shit from Paul, Mark decided to confront John on the matter. Mark was only met with disappointment by John's response. John saw that Mark had a problem with Paul, but since John had started growing feelings towards Paul, he had more patience with him. However, he didn't let that show. He decided it was best if he spent time with Mark away from the group, that way he wouldn't disturb the two parties further and still value each friendship. It worked for a few weeks until Mark had moved away with his parents who were searching for a new way of life in Europe. Despite phone calling every so often for a catchup, they grew apart especially since John and Paul were getting closer, this upset Mark. He had noticed that Paul was only being a bastard because he was creeping his way onto John's podium. Mark didn't think highly of Paul at all, and because of that he just thought he was more of a Weasley, pretentious twat. He held that against Paul forever. It made Mark glad when he moved, so he wouldn't have to endure anymore of the pathetic girly sod.

So when Paul realized Mark was going to be there, he felt as if it was a low blow. Perhaps it just worked out that the two were finally in the same place but really, Mark? Paul hated that guy. He guessed he had upset John, but even for John's pettiness, this was low- if it was intentional.

*
They made their way to the bar eventually, driven by Mal, who was going to be there to keep an eye on the boys- as much as he could. Brian occupied them for a short time but spent most of his time doing what he wanted.

After an hour or so, and a few beers in, the more people started to arrive at the bar. At first it seemed to just be locals there for a good drink on saturday night, but soon they were getting recognised. Soon enough, John's friends came by and they spent some time playing pool, catching up on all sorts. Whilst Paul avoided Mark like the plague, and had hardly anything to do with Sonny since he hardly knew him, it meant staying away from John. He still hadn't been able to speak to him all day.
Ringo and George had spent the time trying to get wasted fast, but both were heavy weights so it would be awhile till they felt anything. Drink after drink the boys settled throughout the bar. It had warm lighting which really set a cozy mood, and plenty of people (however not enough seating). Paul had the joy of being by himself, taking the opportunity to talk to as many people as he could since the place was filling up nicely. Sometimes it was lustful birds who only acted interested in what Paul was saying so that they could keep his attention, or it was locals who were very fond of recognition for their country and ecstatic that the Beatles had taken enough time to be there. Their genuinity flattered Paul, unlike other places where they were treated like some trending zoo animal.
Soon enough all the Beatles, even Mal were either on their way to being plastered or were. Unfortunately this timing didn't come in either Johns or Paul favour when both crossed Paths near the restroom. They were down a hallway, separated from the rest of the bar, it was quieter here. John felt Paul stop him lightly, swaying just a little from the sudden act. Speaking softly enough that no one could hear, despite the music and chit chatter being loud. “What ya want Paul hhm?, M’not gonna kiss ya if that's what you're worried about”, he said slurring his words a little. “I'm not worried about that John, well maybe I am.” John gave a confused look before a drunk Paul continued. “John, What happened last night? Wasn’t… a mistake. I just got scared…”. Paul really struggled with putting his feelings into words, it was even worse now that he was at least 7 pints in, “ I got scared because I didn't expect you of all people to reciprocate that… kind of thing.. And I just wanted… I just want to work it out with you. But god damn it you keep shutting me out!”. He looked into John's eyes sternly “So…I don't know, was it a mistake John, you tell me?”. With that, the floor was open to John.
John had to really think for a moment, did Paul just say reciprocate? That he wanted to work it out? So he did like him back. Well shit, what would he do now?
He looked down at his shoes, he couldn't exactly think a coherent thought, so his words were gonna be either great or terrible depending on what he was feeling at the time. “Yeah…well….”. Before he could get a word in, Mark came around the corner “Hey! There ya are, thought you were taking your sweet arse time”. Paul immediately tensed up. Great, just great. Fucking Mark Davidson, here to ruin the final fucking moment hes had with John, for his own enjoyment. He looked at Mark, trying to hide a disgusted stare, only to be met with “Paul”. ”Mark” and that's all they wanted to say.

John gave another look to Paul, it said mostly that his answer wasn't finished, but his feet began to move away from Paul and away with Mark. It angered Paul that John didn't stay and finish the conversation. Perhaps what John was going to say was that he didn't care. It obviously didn't matter enough.

Upset and jealous, Paul walked over to the bar and ordered a bottle, not a shot a bottle, of their best whiskey. He grabbed the bottle, noticing that George and Ringo seemed to be pretty chuffed talking with each other, and Mal was occupied with Brian. John of course was still with Mark and his mates. Paul was alone. Sometimes, Paul would beg for the opportunity to be alone, and be able to take a pretty bird somewhere for a quick shag but not tonight. Especially not tonight.

He stumbled his way through the crowd, unaware of John's sudden gaze on his back. John watched the figure make his way through the crowd, he was headed away towards the back, but lost sight of him. He felt terrible. He had left Paul without an answer, but he wasn't exactly inclined to making any strong decisions on his own. Damn it Lennon. You just can't have anything nice ever can you. He started slandering himself, he knew he would sabotage the people he loved when he felt insecure. He didn't know why, but it was a defensive mechanism, a shit one at that. But he had lost Paul for the time being, and was preoccupied now. He decided he'd talk to Paul later. Considering, Paul didn't in fact go to him first, and confirmed that he felt something, maybe he would try to work it out afterall.

Paul made his way outside through a back door. He had no responsible thought in him at the moment. Just pain, and confusion. He felt betrayed because he'd been vulnerable to John and he hesitated, and then at the same time Mark shows up to press the knife further in. He took reckless sips from the bottle, heading nowhere in particular.
He admired the architecture of Italy, even just the basic construction of houses or street lights. Afterall, it was an incredible city with an even richer history, something he envied from the locals here. They just lived with fantastic buildings made by literal Romans and they were just used to it. The stars were shining brighter than ever. The cold was nipping at his face, but he felt cozy walking to the warm light of the street lamps, and strolling down the cobblestoned streets. Eventually he grew tired. The more sips he took the more his balance became unsteady, his eyes unfocused, and his breathing unhitched.
He found a part of the street that came to a stop and slid down the wall, resting himself against it for a moment. He started thinking about John again. Despite hating him right now, he couldn't get him out of his head. He gazed up towards the beautiful bright sky and started humming something “ Bright are the stars that shine…Dark is the sky. I know this…love of mine. Will..never..die…”. He hoped he would remember that for his song, as long as the alcohol didn't wipe his memory completely. He sat there, arms and legs gone numb. He didn't have it in himself to walk any further as he'd been going in circles the last hour. Paul had forgotten he was in fact in a strange town, and didn't know how to get back to his hotel. There wasn't even anyone around at this hour, so he gave up, he figured it wasn't the worst place to be. The bar would probably be a nightmare anyway, if John or Mark wasn't going to make things easy.
It had been awhile, a few hours, since either Ringo or George had spoken to either John or Paul. And since John was in sight, still with Mark and Sonny, Mal and Brian could be seen in other parts of the bar, there was no sign of Paul. Perhaps he was just with some bird, but surely they hadn't seen him with one. Or at least if he said he was going, he would maybe mention it to someone. “You reckon Pauls with some bird”, Confused Ringo responded to George's sudden question “What.. What'd Ya mean?”. “Oh sorry, yea, I..I Mean I just haven't seen him in ages, maybe a few hours, just odd is all”. “M sure it's nothin, if anything he probably just drunk asleep in the toilet or something”. “Well that could be one thing, or what if he's gone out and can't find his way back, this aint England y’know, we don't know this place”. Ringo sensed George's genuine concern. “Wanna go ask the others if they've seen em then?”. “Well yea, maybe. Not Brian though, he might get worried, dont want him to be able trust us with this, then go fuck it up forever, if ya know what im sayin”. “Okay then”. They made their way over to John who had now found a booth where he sat with Mark, opposite to Sonny and another guy that Sonny seemed to know. “Hey fellas, what's up?” Slurred and unbothered, Lennon realised he had not spoken to either George or Ringo for a while.

George spoke first, realising now that perhaps at this stage the only help they would get would be drunk. “Have you seen Paul lately?”. Trying to act like he wasn't concerned “Nope. Sure he's around somewhere, blokes probably with a bird-”, “- or two” Mark let out a snobby grin. John usually wouldn’t take other people's slander of Paul, but he was angry at him so a part of him felt he deserved it. “Why's that Geo”. “Haven't seen him in a while that's all” George went to turn around, no point staying there- feeling the unwelcoming tension. John could be a prick sometimes, he couldn't understand who’d put the stick up his ass this time. “If we see him well let you know” Mark continued.
Ringo met up with George again “Mal says he hadn’t seen him, what about John?”. “Yea well, he hadn't seen him neither”. “Should we ask around? Maybe ask Brian?”. George rubbed the back of his neck “How'd we ask Brian without raising suspicion?”. “I'll just go up to him and ask him if he's seen him this way so I can ask him about…something?”. “Mmm.. okay, I’ll, look around aye, i'll meet you back here in 10, yea?”.
Usually they wouldn’t give two thoughts about where another was. George had a weird feeling in his stomach. It was odd this time. It didn’t help that everyone was plastered, it sobered him up quickly. George looked around the main floor, Paul would stand out in a crowd because Paul was.. just Paul… But he wasn't anywhere to be found. George checked upstairs, the bathrooms, the backdoor, the front door. Nowhere. He must've gone back to the hotel then. He caught back up with Ringo. “Did Brian say anything?”. “He said he'd seen him head towards the bathroom a few hours ago, that was the last time. I take it you haven't found ‘em then”. “No. I figured that had just taken himself back to the hotel. Got a taxi or somethin. Right?” George looked nervously. “Yeh. That's probably it. The mans been tired all week, didn’t seem like he was in a party mood tonight anyway”. Both unsure about what to do in this situation decided it'd be best to agree Paul had caught a taxi. They went about their way, not drinking too much more, just in case something did go wrong. They spent another hour or so keeping an eye on the others, and chatting up the few birds that came past every so often.

Meanwhile, John’s stomach turned in knotts, for a worried reason. He assumed Paul would be with a bird, perhaps taking his anger out that way. But the fact he hadn't said anything to even George or Ringo was alarming. Paul in his state, probably got himself back to bed, it's what Paul did. When he shut down he would sleep his emotions away. This however, made John feel more guilty. He must've really upset Paul. He was going to make it up to him in the morning, that is if his hangover doesn’t kill him first.
It occured to Mark, who was happily sitting beside John at the end of the booth, that Paul may be alone. Although he didn't care two shits about Paul, he noticed none of the others seemed to be alarmed enough to go looking themselves. Then. Mark thought that beside the occasional comments, and keeping John's attention all night, maybe it wasn't enough. Paul had made the last year at highschool an utter pain. He'd lost most of his reputation, since everyone shamed him from being picked on by a guy that looked to queer. He had such a resentment for Paul and never had the chance to get revenge, now may be the time. If Mark could get out there and just ‘happen’ to find Paul. High chances he'd be drunk and he'd be able to make a statement to his annoying face. He figured if he didn't find him it was late enough to head home anyway. “Hey John, think I'm gonna head home now. S’ gettin late and all. Great seen ya. Catch up soon yea?”. John didn’t seem pleased about his mate leaving early but he wasn’t focused too much on that right now. “Yeah sure. See ya round”. Mark stood from the table, said goodbye to Sonny and left the bar.

Chapter Text

Paul in his num state sees John's figure appear from the end of the road. Suddenly the darkness there vanished. “John?”. Paul's voice cracks, the faintest relief washes over him, it may be someone who had despised not that long ago but at least he is not alone anymore. To Paul's dismay it wasn't John. Mark was wandering the streets searching for Paul.

Mark hears Paul's calling and rushes over to him. As he gets closer he realizes Paul is sitting down in the gutter of this dead end alley. “Paul?! What's wrong? What are you doing here?. You know this isn't safe. I've been looking for you for ages. Me and the guys were starting to worry”.

Mark stares at Paul, out of breath from the coldness in his lungs. He waits for a response. Paul stands up facing Mark. Paul coldly asks Mark “Where are the others then? And what about Brian? What are you doing out here on your own, if they're all so worried?”. “Well I just slipped out, since I figured none of them were too concerned to look for ya. Figured they were being stubborn gits or they were giving you space”. Paul's dazed body stands there looking at Mark, seriously questioning why someone who definitely has something against him is concerned for his well being. On second thought, from what just happened and from the apparent lack of concern from his pairs, Paul was dreading heading back. “Well, I appreciate, whatever it is you're pretending to care about…But I’m fine, don't need anyone lookin’ after me” the words came out a little slurred. “Fine? Fine?! You call being lost, sitting in a gutter, barely able to stand on your own feet! And not to mention your excitement to be found.. FINE?!” Mark’s tone got more impatient. “Paul, I'm taking you back to where you're staying, unless you'd rather go back to the bar. But I take it you walked far enough you didn’t have the idea of doing so. Am I right?”. Paul hesitated for a moment. Mark made a fair point. “No I ... .Just wanna go home. When we get back can you..you just tell them you errr ... caught up with me instead of finding me… like this. Don’ wanna give Lennon any more shade to throw at me Y'Know”. Mark huffed “Yeah. Yeah alright Paul. Just come on, let's go”. Mark grabbed at Paul's forearm firmly, he finally found him and now he was gonna make him pay. He was gonna take the opportunity to beat the shit out of him but leaving him in the gutter may leave suspicions if someone knew that Mark had left at the same time. He figured he'd atleast get him back to the hotel, then they'd all believe that their assumptions were right and that Paul did get himself back. He knew from John's call earlier what hotel room they were at, and considering the receptionist had told him which room the call took place from, he'd get him back just fine as long as Paul had a key. Mark turned around to head off but after a few steps he noticed that Paul wasn't following. Mark turns around, “What are you doing? Come on” he said, even sterner than before. Paul suddenly noticed the shift in his tone and body language, something was unsettling about the situation. However, he thought it was silly to think anything would happen. They're grown men afterall, they're not petty teenagers anymore, besides the alcohol is probably messing with his mind anyway.

Reluctantly, Paul followed his lead, forearm starting to hurt from the tight grip. After a few steps both found that Paul was in fact unstable, Paul sure had a way of hiding how drunk he really was.
Mark noticed this, it meant that when he had his chance Paul wouldn't be able to fight back, it was gonna be the easiest scrap he'd been in; no one had to know it wasn't fair.

Mark supported Paul the entire journey back, whilst Paul occasionally stopped to throw up or attempt it. Paul had managed to finish ¾ of the bottle sitting there. His head was spinning and his mind was starting to fade in and out. He figured he was in safe enough hands, better than being with someone he didn't know or an estranged fan.

They finally got back to the hotel. It was so late that the only person on reception was half asleep that they barely noticed who had walked through. Mark halfy dragged Paul through to the elevator. Paul’s mind came back at this random point, he couldn't tell where the hell he was at first, with so many hotels all the time it's hard to get familiar with any of them. But when he saw Mark he eased a bit, poor Paul had no idea how unsafe he really was.

Mark took the time to search for Paul's keys. However it was rather difficult dealing with dead weight and a flimsy coat. He managed to find the keys in the inside pocket. When the elevator arrived, they were met with security. The guard didn't recognise Mark at first, but recognised Paul and the state he was in.
“Woa. Who are you?”, “He with you Paul?” the guard looked suspiciously. Somehow, Paul managed to slur a “yes, we're fine” at this point he just wanted to go to sleep and pretend he hadn't gotten so carried away. The guard let them through and slowly walked back to his desk, keeping an eye on the pair. Mark quickly opened the door and the pair tumbled inside. Mark threw Paul's slumped body on the bed and threw the keys on the table.

Mark paused for a second. He had Paul where he wanted him, but it just felt unnatural to beat a man while he was practically beaten himself. He hesitated. Years of built up rage just wasn't there at this point. He tried convincing himself to go ahead with his act. He pinpointed at all of the things he hated about Paul. His girly eyelashes, little nose, stupid cupid lips and freckles even! He’d never seen a man with such feminine features. If John wasn't always a inch away from beating anyone, Mark would call Paul a f*g or tw*nk any chance he had.
But god, if Paul…were a girl..? He would be pretty …wouldn’t he. Mark kept looking at Paul who was sprawled on his back with not a thought in his head.
God Paul may have been a man, but if that factor wasn't in place he was beautiful. And it was another thing that genuinely pissed Mark off. Of Course Paul had everything. The talent, the voice, the looks, the birds, even John now. Soon the anger came back. Paul's beauty may have tricked everyone into being a suck up to Paul but Mark wouldn't have it. Looking at his stupid face, just there, made Mark scrunch his fists.

****

“God Paul. Look what y’ave done to yourself”. Paul couldn't reply; he only let out a grumble. Mark took a step closer to Paul. Something clicked inside his head. It was a horrible, horrible decision, but as long as no one found out, it would be the best revenge he could get. You can fight a man and take away his strength in the moment, but defile a man and he loses his dignity forever.
“Silly Paul…Shouldn't have been out there. What were you thinking? Leaving the bar by yourself tsk tsk tsk”. Mocking Paul, he knew he had power now, so he was going to abuse it.
Mark grabbed Paul's chin roughly, leaning over him “You know, I could hurt you and you could do nothing about it.. Could you?” laughing at Paul, who was far too plastered to even see straight, (Mark) with an estranged hunger in his eyes. Paul's eyes were mostly shut, he had little strength and focus in him, but he could still hear Mark's words. He knew he was in danger. Disorientated, he tried to pull away from Mark's grip but he didn't have anywhere to go. “You know. It's selfish whatcha did”. He tried to direct Paul's attention to him but let go, still towering over him. He started backing away, shut and locked the door. “You left everyone there, you didn't even say goodbye. That's quite rude of you Paul..”. Paul could still hear Mark's stupid conniving voice, it felt like it was sending ripples through his brain. He started panicking once he heard the door lock click. Surely Mark wasn't going to do anything to him. Not like this, surely not like this. Paul couldn't fathom the thought. He knew he was pretty, sometimes too pretty for a man. But he had plenty of security who should stop things like this, right? And he was a good guy, wasn't he? He didn't deserve this. And afterall he was still a man, surely no one could have it in themselves to do anything this peculiar? “You were so selfish for not saying goodbye or not telling anyone where you were going, but I suppose that gives us time then doesn't it?”. Time? Time?! For what? Paul tried to stand up but collapsed at his feet. Mark pacing the room, making sure nothing was out of place, heard the fall. “Oh Paul, you're not going anywhere. It's funny though, seeing ya try”. He came over to a very dazed Paul, picking him up, throwing him back on the bed again, this time Paul was on his stomach. Paul felt vulnerable, god why did his body have to betray him now? What did he even do to deserve anything like this. Sure he was an asshole to Mark, but guys were like that to each other. Paul could admit that even though he joked, sometimes he did take it too far. But it still wasn't a reason, right? He squirmed with his might, aiming for the opposite side of the room than what was behind him but it isn't much use.

“Paul. Do you even realise how much grief you fucking cause me?!”
Mark's calm tone shifted dramatically. “You spend your days with your smug pathetic face, taking all the good things life has to offer, and you have no remorse for any of it!. You go about your days, like nothing ever happened. You stole my friends, you ruined my reputation, and worst of all you got away with it. Not today Paul, not today !”.

Paul tried to push himself up, he had to get out of there or atleast get to something or someone. Mark pushed him back down leaning closer to his ear. “Oh Paulie…you're gonna pay for what you did, and I'm gonna make you remember every second of it”. Mark's words came out rough and all Paul could manage was a slurred protest “Don…Don’t!…I…Please…!”.

Mark pressed himself over Paul, he could feel Paul panicking and it only enticed him further.
Paul could feel Mark's body weighing down on him, he felt so afraid and tried squirming away again. “Keep trying Paul, but do you remember any of the whisky you drank before huh?, Stupid thing to do, downing almost an entire bottle, now you're incapable of anything, almost like you were asking for it”. Paul hated every word, it wasn’t true, how could he have known someone was out to get him, “No! No no..!”voice trembling with anger, sadness, and panic. “You can try to run, hit, or deny it but you ain't going anywhere. Not this time”. Though Paul could hardly move, he still had a voice, “He…Help…HELP. HEL-” Paul managed, but was cut off by Mark's hand. Nothing was heard. The security guard had fallen asleep, Paul was alone.

Mark slammed his hand against Paul's cries. “Shut up, this is what you fucking get f*g! Yellin ain't gonna do ya shit”. Mark, irritated, realised that he may not have a lot of time, since the rest of the guys might be heading back at any moment. He kept a grip on Paul and used his free hand to pull Paul's white dress shirt up and started working at his own belt. Paul's heart sank. He felt like he had died, he wished he had. Surely the guys would be back soon. God he wished they'd come back now! Right now! At Least someone! Where the fucking hell was security?! Paul felt sick. He couldn't let this happen. Why? Why this? Why now? He couldn't think much more except wanting to be saved or die then and there.

Mark yanked Paul's dress pants down and his briefs. “Just relax Paul. s’gonna hurt more if ya struggle”. Paul could feel that Mark was hard, he started dissociating. He couldn't live another conscious second experiencing this madness. Paul stared at the opposite door frame. A darkness lingered there. He started imaging anything else he would be doing right now. Thoughts of John came around, Jane, the boys, his father, his mum…
He didn't know whether it was his mum that made him cry, or the searing pain that ripped through him next.
Mark kept his hand firmly around Paul's mouth, soon wet from his tears. Whilst he was now firmly moving from behind. “Ya so tight Paulie. God…. So good”. A sadistic moan escaped Mark's lips. Paul finally saw Mark as the true monster he always was. He wanted to run to somebody and scream from the top of his lungs as soon as he could. “Oh Paulie, just know this too, if you tell a fucking soul about this, even John, ill kill you. I’ll fucking find you and put your arse in the grave or better yet send your f*ggot ass to prison, where I'm sure they'll have a field day with ya there!”. Paul shuddered. He was cornered. If he ran to the police he'd be imprisoned whether or not it was his fault, the police never seemed to care for the context. And prison would be worse. He really couldn't tell anyone either because what would the papers say? What would the world say or think? What would his family or friends think? What would John think?. He started bawling again. He would lose everyone. Why did he deserve this?

Paul tried sobering up but everything was spinning and the pain was only making it worse. Their bodies were still close together. Mark pushed Paul against the mattress trapping him there. On hand grabbed around to Paul's own shaft.
Mark took his hand from Paul's mouth to steady himself, but not fast enough. Paul felt Mark touch his own, he couldn't believe how fucked Mark was being, this was no act of a sane man, how long had he been wanting this?!. He then felt Mark release his hand and bit it out of instinct. “AGH the fuck you’d do that for YOU FUCK!”. He let go of Paul with the lower hand and yanked Paul's head back by his hair and bit down on his neck.

“Dont fucking do that!”. Mark's rage met a climax and he started grabbing Paul's hips harshly, they were gonna leave bruises. Paul stopped breathing for a moment. The pain was unbearable as Mark forced himself inside constantly. “You're probably enjoying this aren't you ..Paulie. You fucking tart. You're just a queer no good lousy musician. All you do is sing and fuck everything that moves. How does it feel now?” Mark got so carried away in the sadistic behaviour that he didn't realise the damage he was doing to Paul. He had torn Paul vigorously, gripping Paul so hard that his fingernails were drawing blood. He didn't care though, this felt good, not just for revenge but Mark was getting off to Paul's tight arse and delicious features. He knew Paul was a man but he felt just the same as any woman. Mark was close but he wished he could have dragged it out more, for his own sake.

Paul could hardly think or breathe. He started staring at the door frame again. His mum, standing there, just like the last time he saw her before she got sick. He only managed to whisper “Mu…Mummy?”. He wished he was with her for real. That way he would really be dead and wouldn't have to deal with this agonizing pain any longer. He wanted to reach out. To grab and hold on to her tightly. “Save me..please” he mumbled through the bedding. He broke into sobs again, he didn't want this.
“Shut up” Mark couldn't understand what Paul was saying but he kept going. Mark let out a tensed moan. Paul knew what was going to happen and he almost dry heaved at the thought. He tried moving away again but it was no use, Mark was stronger. Wanting to vomit and fight the monster away, Mark grabbed both of Paul's hands and held him firmly down against the mattress, a few more seconds passed when he finally finished “I’m…I’m…so…Aghhh”. Paul felt it. The hot liquid being released. He felt disgusting. Violated. Dehumanized. What the fuck just happened?

Mark let go of Paul leaving him in a state, he wasn't gonna be able to stand any time soon. Mark cleaned himself up and redressed. Paul was quiet except for the sobs that escape his lifeless body. He threw a blanket over Paul, checked for anything out of place, “Remember, you tell ANYONE and I’ll fucking find you”, and left. He left the suite and headed down the hall, past the sleeping guards, down the elevator and made his way out of the building. He was gone.

****

Chapter Text

Paul had no idea how much time had gone past, he was just glad it was over.
Paul laid there uncontrollably crying, he didn't care that he felt weak for it, he didn't have much pride left to care about. Worst of all he couldn't move. Part of him wanted to let the alcohol put him to sleep, but if they guys came home he didn't want them to see him like this, he had to keep some dignity even if it was microscopic at this point.
He tried moving his body but it ached every flinch he made. He must've been there an hour or two by now. He looked at the clock and it was something past 3am. He was somewhat sobered except the inevitable hangover that was rapidly approaching. He just wanted a shower. To get out of this disgusting bed. He wanted to burn the clothes too, and the person in them.

He decided he just had to push through the pain, it was gonna be a bitch either way so just get it over with.
He dragged his way off the bed, using the wall for support. He felt things inside him burn. He knew he must've been bleeding for sure, luckily there was nothing on the sheets. He made sure that the door was locked, that way he couldn't come back. Paranoid, he grabbed the chair beside the door and pushed it against the handle. He got to his bag, grabbed sweatpants and a jumper, and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He got about halfway when the nerves in his spine jolted him to the floor. He yelled out from the sudden pain. It was agonizing and it traced all the way around his lower back. He wanted to give up. He didn't want to move or breathe. He wished he could run into his mom's arms and be cared for like when he was a boy. God what would she think of him now?. A useless drunk who cant look after himself and lets people take advantage of him?, May be he was a useless fuck…? The only thing that kept Paul going was the idea of shame that he would feel if someone found out about this. So he climbed to his feet against the spikes going through him and stumbled his way to the shower.

He undressed himself and began to notice the fresh wounds that Mark had left. Teeth marks, just out of sight for any shirt but enough to leave as a constant reminder.
He looked down to his pants and realized that they were a mess. He would have to throw them out, but no one could know. He’d hide them in his bag, and say they were scratched walking back, Brian wouldn't question it then. The motors were now ticking in Paul's head. He was always one to start working on a solution rather than just complaining about a problem. He knew this time he just had to fix himself up, get rid of the evidence, and continue like nothing happened. Just bottle it inside like he always did. But it was different this time and he knew that.

He turned the shower on, the water pouring was a peaceful sound, Paul began to detach again. He let himself escape his situation. He used to do it when things were bad before. If he couldn't bear the weight of his own thoughts he would daydream. It was how he coped. It didn't solve his personal problems but he could still function with day to day activities, so he managed with it.
Paul washed himself clean. Feeling the water burn in places Mark had dug, bitten or bruised him. No matter how hard he scrubbed he could still feel the monster's body and force against him. His words lingered in his head. He thought that maybe if he tried sleeping or keeping himself distracted the next day he could block out what had happened. He dried and dressed himself quickly. Hobbled back to his room, and slept on the untouched side of the bed. It haunted him but he faced away.

~

It wasn’t much later when the others arrived. Unlocking the door was a heavy task alone, with no one sober enough to know which key was the right one. Soon they felt the pressure against the door. “Eh George hurry it up will ya, Im gonna spray this hallway with me guts”. “Im’a uh, tryin my hardest John, Just..,Just give me a second”. George tried pushing but there was something behind it. “Feels like there's something there, you try”. John gave it a shove, then another and eventually plowed through whatever it was not giving it a second thought and halfy stumbled/ sprinted to the bathroom.
Ringo and George carefully stepped through, both relieved when they found Paul actually asleep in the bed, which meant they didn't have to go for a wild manhunt at 3 in the morning, or worst of all telling Brian they'd lost him.

*
Back at the bar, Brian collectively decided it was time to go when neither of his roadies could hold themselves up enough to do their job anymore. With that in mind, he knew that the boys would've well been off their rocker by now so he'd have to handle the task alone. With only a few brandy's in him he got Neil and Mal to a taxi to drive them back to the hotel. He turned to go back inside, for this late at night the place was still buzzing. He spotted George and Ringo in a booth in the corner, thank god- two in one place, that was going to be a lot easier. Both Beatles however, were accompanied by a blonde and brunette. “Boys! Good to see you've enjoyed yourselves”. George tried to straighten himself up, not noticing Brian's sudden appearance, “Yes Bri, parties just getting started for us isn't it Rings..?” “Yeah Bri, but what's up?” Ringo asked with more seriousness. “Time to get on don’t you think. Well past midnight, better get you boys home before you start any more trouble” He eyed the two ladies sitting beside them. Both George and Ringo deflated at the unappealing news, they were so close to ending their night with a bang!-literally. But suppose it was late. “I’ll get the other two and we can get a taxi, just wait for me outside and don’t go anywhere!..Though speaking of which..where are the other two, have you seen them?”. George gave a quick side glance to Ringo, praying luck was on their side. “Paul uh went back hours ago, I'm sure of it. Didn't say too much before he left. And John was..-”
“John was with a few friends earlier, maybe with a bird as well by now. Though Bri, if ya go looking make sure you knock first” Ringo piped up. “Okay well, make sure you two are outside in five minutes, if I can't find John, I'll send you two back and keep lookin”.
Brian continued throughout the bar, weaving his way through the crowd of people still dancing their hearts away, surely most of them had to be on some sort of upper at this point. That's when he saw, standing in the corner, John's silhouette, slouching beside a womanly figure. “John”. John looked irradiated that he had just been interrupted between getting a score for the night. “What is it you want Brian? Can’t you see I'm busy”. “John, the others are waiting outside and it's time to head back, I’m glad I've found you because it's late and Neil and Mal are already back at the hotel so it's my job to get you all back safely. Now finish things here and come with me.” John was annoyed but knew he couldn't argue with Brian, especially since he was technically their boss, and if the others were waiting suppose he didn't want to be left behind. He huffed at Brian and turned to the pretty blonde beside him, kissed her intensely, making Brian look away awkwardly, and followed Brian out of the bar. “Right old boy, get me home then”.
Pleased to find George and Ringo outside, Brian hurriedly got them in the taxi before they had the chance to escape him. “Come on. In you get” Brian saw John hesitate, “You too John, lets go now”. “Aye..where's Paul?”. George quickly spoke “He's at the hotel, left ages ago, sure he's fine”. John was displeased with that answer, hoping Paul really was okay. He knew he would isolate himself whenever he was upset, something he knew he was prone to doing himself, except with Paul he would shut off which always made it worse.

Once they arrived, Brian stopped with them at their door, eventually checking to see if Mal and Neil had got back. “Goodnight boys, see you all tomorrow, John take care of yourself and Boys please make sure Paul is there, let me know if you need anything”. John ignored Brian's departure, focusing now on the world pool of alcohol in his stomach that was planning to come out all at once. Turns out even the slightest bit of motion sickness was enough to unsettle him.
*

All George and Ringo could hear was John emptying his guts seconds after closing the door behind them. But as soon as they had gotten through, they noticed the chair. “Well that's a bit odd innit?”. “Huh?” Ringo turned, as he took off his jacket. George pointed. “Oh…er. Maybe Paul put it there to feel safer? After all he's here alone”. George shrugged, and gave a ‘who knows’ look. “Best to be safe than sorry I suppose”. George took off his shoes and started towards the bathroom “Hey John you alright back there?”. George was hit with an acidic smell accompanied by a defeated John “Yeah I'm alright”. John looked like he was about to pass out right there on the floor. “Didn't pick you for the type not to hold their liquor Lennon”. “Shush Hazza, I probably had more than you at least!”. “You know there is a line between showin off and just being a sad mess like ya are now”. John buried his head in his arms. Ringo called out from the living room “-gonna kip now fellas, see you all in hell tomorrow”, “Night” George said, then looking back to John. “Come on, let's get you off this floor and to bed”.
John let out a groan as George helped him to his feet “You right?”, “Yea, yea I’m good I got it.” George wasn't much for being the babysitter but since he was practically the only one left standing he had to.

John fell asleep mere seconds later after hitting the pillow. George followed soon after, they all wouldn't wake until late that afternoon.

Paul laid awake. Long enough to hear everyone get back .
He hated himself and the world around him. He kept rethinking the night, then the years in highschool, and everything he'd done since then. But he was sure he couldn't reason why he deserved this. He questioned his faith and its existence altogether. He grew up Catholic believing in those who would look after them, care for those loyal to god. But where was god when he needed him. Could god really just stand by and let this happen? Was this his fate that God had chosen? It all seemed like horseshit now.

It was so cold in his bed. It also disgusted him that he was so close to the very thing that had happened not even hours before. He stood back up, head now spinning. He hobbled his way to the kitchen and downed a glass of water, he placed the glass down but as his sleeve rolled up he noticed new bruises forming. He started choking up again, tears swelling in his eyes. He had to hold it back, he just had to, but every second was driving him more and more insane. He need someone, just someone like..John? Maybe he could go to John. But he was mad at him wasn’t he? Or at least he'd be passed out or asleep. He gripped the edge of the sink, his anger and pain was suffocating him.

“Paul?” Ringo was on his way to the kitchen for the same thing, but as he rounded the corner he almost jumped when he saw a dark figure standing there.
Paul scrambled out of his thoughts, it was Ringo, but god he wasn’t ready for interaction just yet. “Hey Paul, you alright”. “Mmhm” Paul quickly replied and left back to his room before he could show anymore of himself; he felt disgusting despite showering profusely . He didn't want to be rude to Ringo but he couldn't think straight at all.

Paul managed to fall asleep after what felt like eternity. But once he did he slept and slept and slept. Fading away into what felt like nothingness.

~

The other boys woke up around 2 Sunday afternoon. Brian thought it be best to make sure nothing was booked in case they all had a hangover. He was right.

It wasn’t until a few hours later someone spoke up noticing there had been no sign of Paul. “Oi fellas. Has Paul been up yet?”, “Haven't seen him Rings, he's probably sleeping, or might just have a case of hangover humiliation”. John hadn’t given much thought to George's reply but it did bother him how quiet Paul was. John hadn’t thought he had drunk that much, considering he had left early. He stood up from the couch, making his way over to Paul's door, peaking in trying not to disturb him.
Despite what had gone on the last day or two, with John getting defensive, he still cared very much for Paul. If something was wrong he wanted to be there with him. He still felt bad for leaving too, especially since Paul came to talk to him. Maybe the silent treatment was his fault. Afterall, Paul had admitted to liking the kiss, then John walked out on him again. God he was a dick. He just needed to tell Paul he wasn’t mad anymore, that he could figure it out.

“Paul?” . He stepped in closer, noticing the still figure lying there on his side away from him. “Paul?. Are you alright? Haven't heard from ya since last night, boys were worried you'd done ya self one”. He let out a soft laugh. There was silence for a moment. “I'm okay”. It was cold and harsh. Had John really fucked up this time? He knew he had to just suck up his own anger, there must be a bigger issue at hand; he couldn't just keep walking away. He sat down on the end of the bed, he was well prepared to go into it all, but he didn't want to be doing it if Paul was acting like a brick wall. “Paul….I.. Listen. I'm sorry for the other night. I wanted to talk to you but it was…just bad timing”. Lennon was never one for apologies but at least he tried. He was only met by silence.
“Paul. I’m sorry. I …Am sorry for walking out on you- twice! Shit I…I know I'm an asshole but you gotta talk to me”. He turned around and noticed Paul looked fatigued. “Unless you are actually unwell and in that case let me help you. Do you need water?”. Paul kept blankly staring in front of him, too afraid to meet his gaze. What would he think of him if John knew why he really was unwell.

Paul was hardly thinking anything at all but when John came in it surprised him. Part of him was thankful John was able to even address the matter on his own, but this was also Not. The. Right. Time.

He looked at Paul closely. His eyes were dark and had no shine whatsoever. Was all this fuss capable of causing so much grief? John felt hopeless, had he really fucked up the only thing he had going for him, was he going to lose Paul too? He reached a hand out to Paul's wrist which was lying beside his head. The minute he touched his soft skin Paul jolted it away.

Paul slowly sat up, he couldn’t bear the confusion in John's eyes, questioning the very movement. But he was at a loss for words. He couldn't lie there completely unresponsive, as well as John being right in his space he felt the need to create some distance. He sat up despite the uncomfortableness approaching, looking down at his fingertips, picking at them once more. “John..” His voice broke, tender from its overuse the night before and lack of in the last 24 hours. “John I… Don't know if this is a good time right now…I don't want to upset you but I can't think about it”. “What do you mean you can’t think about it..what is there to think about, you're the one who was worried in the first place” John grew worried, maybe he did have it wrong. He got more frustrated that he couldn't tell what was what and the mixed messages were beginning to feel like a game. Usually Paul would put way more of a fight, but right now he simply resorted to silence. John waited for a response only to be met with the top of Paul's mop top shielding his eyes.
“Paul? Whatever is wrong I want to work through it with you. I’m trying to be patient here, but these mind games need to stop. If you want this,- us, I’m here, I'm willing to try, please try to work with the problems with me Paul.
He tried looking for any form of a response but Paul looked away gritting his teeth.
“Johnny…” He looked down at his calluses which he had picked to almost blood.
“I..want ..”

“Want what Paulie? It's okay, you can tell me”. Paul's stomach did hurdles, whether it was the sudden realization of putting his wants into real words and reality, or that name. The same one he heard Mark use. It only brought back the worst images.

Overwhelmed he tried moving away from John but with a sudden spike in his lower back he remained stationary.
John continued, “If there truly is something bothering you, I want you to know that you don't have to hold it to yourself like you always do. I know I'm not one to speak, and I'm not the easiest at times which you know-” Hoping to get a laugh or even a sympathetic ‘you tried’ look out of Paul was a failure, “- but I will listen and ..respect whatever it is that you want”.
Paul hesitated. He honestly just wanted space, but he also needed to tell John he could be there for John in that way. Then that idea, that Paul hadn’t realized till now was the question that, could he be able to even..get back to normal things..? Part of being with John was going to be romantic but the very idea of even talking with someone right now was a headache. Blurred by the sudden anger and confusion he pushed aside the conversation, “John what I want right now is to have space. I told you I cant think right now please!…Just …leave me alone, before..” he stopped, feelings caught in his throat. At Paul's sudden words he stood from the bed “..before, what Paul?” he said with defeat in the question. Under his breath “- before I hurt you”. It was quiet but he understood. John still wasn't sure if it really was something he'd done, but he promised to respect Paul, so that is what he’d do. “Hhh. Okay Paul. But… If you need me. Just ask”. He left his solemn friend to his content, back to the couch where he wished he could sink through into a never ending pity of nothingness.

~

As he returned to Ringo and George they questioned with confused glances. “So he's alright then?”. “He's far from alright but if you mean he's not puking his guts out or choking on his own vomit, then yea I’d say he's alright”. John’s worry only grew by the second, he could tell when something was bothering him, Paul was never much of a liar, his eyes always gave him away. Ringo brought over some tea from the kitchen, “What's wrong with the lad then, said anything to you, or just nothing at all?”. The end of the sentence grabbed John's interest, “What’s it with you, he said something to you?..or nothing?, cause he won't bloody talk to me either”. “Nothing much, just that I got up to get water last night and he was just there in the dark. Then when I tried talking to him he sort of just brushed me off. I just blamed the booze, guessed the lad wasn't in a mood for talking so thought nothing of it”.
George was now growing concerned for the lad “D’You say something to him lennon?. You know, I get you two are close but you've gotta stop pushin’ his buttons all the fucking time”. “What's that supposed to mean?” John shot George a look. “I just mean, you should know Paul by now, he’s…well sensitive, and well…your…er blunt to put it lightly, and a bit careless”. “Listen George, I know you think of yourself as his younger brother but I really don't need you tutoring me how to run my own friendship with the guy. Besides, what is it with you assuming I was at fault this time!?”.

Ringo sipped his tea nervously, sensing yet another battle over who was more valuable to Paul. It usually consisted of George knowing him for longer and being Jealous of Johns quick attachment to Paul, or John being protective of their friendship as if Paul was a fucking priceless ruby no one else was allowed to look at. None of that was said of course but any outsider could clearly see what the reasoning was. It drove Ringo nuts sometimes. If he had known that these guys were going to be more concerned about each other just as much as the music, maybe he would have just stuck with the hurricanes. On second thought, he still loved them even if they had their petty moments. Ringo had zoned out until the change of tone brought him back to his senses.

“I'm not sayin’ it's your fault but the last time you two were together Paul stormed out of the fucking building, not to mention the entire morning where you two didn’t say a word to eachother!”. George being George, notices a lot more than people expect. He may be quiet but he is always listening or observing. He notices when things change or when something unspoken is louder than the silence that covers it.

“That’s not..it's none of your business! But if you're so concerned, George, why don't you go talk to him. I doubt you’ll get a peep out of him though, practically told me to fuck off, so they’d be no reason for you to try”. John crossed his arms, upset that someone else was putting him to blame for all this.
“Alright, you two dipshits, cut the bullshit. Neither of you fucking own the guy, give it a break for fucks sake-” Ringo lit a cigarette and let out breath before continuing “John I get it, you and Paul have a friendship that's unmatched, but George has every right to be just as much of a friend to him than anyone in this room. And George, stop letting Lennon get to you, he's winding you up for pete's sake. You also don't own him but yea, you've known him longer so there's that, but both of you, please! Get your shit together.”. Ringo let out another huff, pleased with himself.

They exchanged glances. It was pretty stupid how they could get sometimes but it wasn't something either held on for too long. “I'm having a shower-” George looked to John “Don't you turn the water on while I'm in there”. John sarcastically gestured a ‘cross my heart’ whilst George stood to leave the room.

John then refocused to Ringo's statement before George had interrupted with his lame accusation. “Wait Rings. You said you saw him and he didn't say much. Was that it?” Hoping there would be some insight to the problem. “Yeah John, that was it but-”, pausing for a second to make sure his thoughts were justifiable, “He's been off since the plane, in all fairness I think the lads got somethin on his mind”. John tapped his fingers against the arm of the couch, a worried frown pressing his brows into a serious mold, he knew that much. They had sort of worked through some of it, and other parts Paul had told him when they talked, but there was something missing, but how could it have affected Paul so quickly, it just didn’t seem right. “He’s dealing with stuff at home, and with Jane. I’ve tried talking with him through most of it but.., like George said, he's sensitive, and he also won't open up if there's something he's afraid of. What do we do about it?”.

“I really don't know, the only thing we can do is give him space if he needs it and just let him know we're there. Don’t make him feel guilty about conserving it, he'll tell us when he needs to”. Ringo was right, completely right. It felt refreshing to know that maybe the ‘space’ part wasn't just a personal attack, maybe Paul did just need time. He'd given his reassurance, so he didn't have to feel bad about making Paul feel guilty but he still felt like he hadn't done enough. Not enough to fix anything he may have broken anyway.

Chapter Text

When dinner rolled around, there still had been no sign of Paul. If he was going through a hangover he needed something to eat. “How about you go check on him this time George, go see if he's awake”, Ringo asked, dishing up his own plate.
Mal had brought in a trolley from the waitress outside. Neil and Brian followed behind, to join them for the meal.

“Glad to see you are all awake boys, now eat up, we need you all back on your feet for tomorrow”. Brian looked around at the state of the hotel, there were still monopoly pieces around the room from a half-arsed clean up job, and there were dishes and trash everywhere, not to mention the elephant in the room.

“This place is a state, I need you boys to show some dignity and clean up after yourselves at least a little bit, you may be rockstars but you are not pigs, don't get sloppy on me now”. He picked up a slice of pizza from the floor and dropped onto a plate beside him, disgusted. “Sorry, just busy, no time you know, been rockstars and all that”. John said, stuffing his face with roast veges. “There's no use Bri, I've tried putting away shit but the minute you do the Lennon hurricane rips right through, nothing you can do about it”, he said gesturing to John, who stood there pretending to be offended.

Brian, accepted the inevitable fate, but he raised the question when two out of four Beatles were not present. “Where's George and Paul? They've gotta be up by now, it's 6pm?! They're going to ruin their sleeping schedule. I can't afford to having you lot restless tomorrow. You’ve got to make sure you are all looking sharp and on your best behavior for the press. How many times do I need to drill it into you? “Woa, Woa, relax Bri, no need to work yourself up. George’s been up for awhile, and Paul's resting but I’m sure he'll be fine tomorrow. We promise will be good”, John gave one of his stupid pleading looks being the smartarse he was. “Besides Brian” Ringo added, “Since when have we had a sleeping schedule, we work so late we just carry on to the next day when you have us running around doing all your press tours and what not”. “I know, I know, perhaps I over work you boys, but this press conference is important, it's to mark the start of the tour, you have to make an impression, there's lots of fans who look up to you, you know”.

~
Meanwhile, George had gone to Paul’s room, “Hey mate, how are you feelin? Got a case of hangover blues huh?”. Paul relaxed when he heard George's voice, he didn't have to hide so much from George because confiding in him meant different things than if it did with John. George could simply just be a friend but John was always… more. More concerned, more protective, sometimes it was overwhelming. He enjoyed how much he cared and sometimes John pampering him was flattering but it made Paul always feel like he was being over dramatic when it wasn't all that. In this case George would give a pat on the back and maybe a nice smile, and sometimes that was the right amount.

“I’m okay George, just tired is all”. The longer Paul spent in bed, the more time he had to process what was going on, and now that he wasn’t in so much severe pain he was able to subside the anger for the time being. He rolled over to face George who had entered fully. “Dinners outside if you feel like eating somethin. You probably should. It isn't good to keep so much liquor in your system on an empty stomach”. “Thanks Georgie but it's long gone by now. I might just have a shower”. George gave a worried smile, “Alright, just make sure you grab somethin later”. Paul nodded, watching George leave the room again, and dropped his head back onto the pillow.

~
The warm water flow over his face was soothing once more. His body didn't ache as much but it wasn't comfortable just yet. However, the shame was still drowning him, the emotions were circling his head like a dark cloud. He didn't have the power to even mask it, he knew the guys would probably catch on or start questioning the behaviour if he didnt soon though. How could he just pretend? Just move on like it didn't happen? This was a ‘fresh wound’, and it was ‘bleeding’. No matter how much he suppressed the thought of what happened, he couldn't ‘bandage’ it up. He considered himself like a shark. Always moving, that's the only way to survive, once he stopped that was it. He knew if he stopped to let his problems catch up to him it would surely devour what was left. Except this shark was ‘bleeding’ soon enough others would ‘smell’ it if he wasn’t careful.

He wanted to give up. The task of pretending sounded disgusting, and he would have to do it just to get around with his friends. But to mask to the whole world whilst a million cameras and bright lights flashed at him 24/7 daunted upon him.
He wasn't sure he was ready for it. He felt seen and used in every way and it was his job to just take it. Of course he just had to take it! Just fucking deal with it! Suck it up! Move on! Deal with slurs and the criticisms but also the way people fantasie and dehumanize you. Because that was his job. All he wanted to do since he was a kid was just make music. Just make songs that people would favour rather than the person behind them. Sure the life of a rockstar, and not any rockstar, the four most talked about rock stars across the world, was thrilling and came with everything he wanted. Girls, money, access to everything whenever he wanted, like they were royalty. But at times it was too much, when the comments that people made of them like they had any right to say, or the treatment they get when they are passed through crowds, or the way he can't walk down the street without 20 girls wanting to rip him to shreds. Even the way they struggle to find relationships or even friendships without being seen as a resource or a right to brag about was a shocking reality factor that they all only realized once they were too far in; at this rate it’d take years to break. So they all became accustomed to having no private life. A restricted social life, and the very thing they loved to do was a chore. At Least he had the guys, that always made it better. There were only three other people who knew what he was going through in terms of fame. Just three other guys on the entire planet who could actually relate to the madness of a Beatle. Except now he was in love with one of them, and he couldn't even look him in the eye.

Paul stopped, before he choked up once more, preventing a surge of emotions.
He had to try and not feed into his self pity. It wasn't doing anything for him, but he also knew that a large part of it was the reality he wasn't willing to face. Facts that were screaming at him, but chose to ignore. If he ignored them, it couldn't bother him right, so why think about it. He ran his hands over his face distressfully. Not knowing how much time he'd been in the shower for, he turned the handle off. He wished he could stay there forever. Letting the warm water relax everything, accompanied by silence, because people know not to disturb you. But what would he do now, he couldn't just lie in bed for another 12 hours?

Drying himself was hard, when he didn't want to look at his body at all. At Least if he got dressed he could hide it away. Shit. He forgot clothes. His room was directly opposite the shower. Only a few steps away, but he'd have to make sure no one saw him. The towel could only cover so much, so he had to act fast. Luckily the main living rooms were out of sight, and the only voices he could hear were coming from that area.

He opened the door and quickly got to the otherside. He had made it successfully. Now that that task was completed he searched through his bag finding a clean outfit, when he heard the door squeak and a voice follow behind.

“Everything alright in there Paul? You ready to grab something to eat?”. John said through the door that was slightly ajar, but as he heard no response he wondered if Paul had not left the shower yet, which was concerning since he had been in there for some time. Pressing in further, he saw that Paul was in fact there, only a towel around his waist, that's when Paul turned around. “John! Eh Yeah I'll be.. Uh I’m good, just getting dressed yea” he said panicking. Luckily John had retreated back behind the door for Paul's privacy. “Eh sorry, just, you were in the shower for ages, figured I’d check to see that you hadn’t drowned in there”.
“No I'm good, I’ll…”, He supposed it was about time, “I'll be out there in a moment yea”. “Okay”. John turned away again, but he was riddled with questions. Had his eyes really seen it, it couldn’t have been? Some sort of red mark on his shoulder. It looked similar to a bite mark? Except, how'd it? Perhaps he had a run in with a bird the night they argued, a rough one at that. By all means John had been with a girl too, but never made it far enough from Brian's inconvenience. It just seemed weird, everything was weird.

John returned to the kitchen where the others were all seated. “You okay there mate?”, Mal questioned John's tense presence as he joined. George piped up, “John and Paul had one of their old married couple arguments again”. John gave George a scowl, “It's not that we've argued but…” he didn't know how much he wanted to reveal, for the sake of Paul's own privacy, or Ringo's statement. “I don't really know”. Mal continued, “Well he's certainly got something picking away at him. Was gloomy the entire ride to the plane, not to mention that as well. You spoken to the lad at all?”. “Yea, Mal, we've all tried. It's unusual”. Tired of the same circle of questions John had been running in, he gave up the act. It seemed clear that Paul had long been unnerved. It still felt all wrong.

Talking about problems to Paul usually fixed his sombre behavior but his gut was telling him otherwise.

They soon ended the conversation when the devil himself entered the room. It became eerie. Though Paul tried not to show it, he was Pale, more than usual. The dark eye bags and disheveled look, proved to the rest of the room that their theories were correct.
Paul went straight to water, realizing how parched he was. He was hungry too but he didn't want to cross that path. He was too concerned about the damage left down there, that if he was to eat, it meant he'd have to process it. He didn't want to deal with that until his body had the chance to recover; if something went wrong he may have to tell someone what had caused the abrasion, leading to a series of disasters. Avoid the facts, hide the emotions, and move on is all he wanted to do.

Grabbing the glass from the cupboard was difficult whilst trying not to reveal so much of his arms. He could also feel the eyes on him, waiting on the thin ice, careful not to upset the lad.

Brian broke the silence, “Good to see you Paul, you feeling alright? Make sure you come and grab something to eat. We need you in good shape for tomorrow”. Of course. Tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that, nothing was going to come to a halt. Paul looked over to Brian, sitting in an armchair. The minute he saw him he felt himself fold within. He wondered how Brian may respond if he knew, considering he was a gay man himself. Maybe there was a way to confide in him, trust that he wouldn't judge, because in some way he may understand. Maybe just understand the fear of an outsider knowing, at least Brian wouldn't go tattle telling on him. Then again if he didn't respect Paul, it could ruin everything between them. Paul also began questioning that- kind of sexuality again. He had questioned himself before, when he first picked up on the feelings towards John. But, he didn't think of himself as queer. He didn't look at men that way, or ever even thought about lusting after them. John was different, John was special. He knew there would be changes in lots of things to do with himself and his understanding of romantic dynamics, but he had managed to accept that. Now he re-questioned everything. Why would another man willingly want to experience that kind of pain? It was atrocious, but he supposed that is what birds felt like all the time. He started feeling sick of the thought.
Paul realized that the time for replying to Brian's statement had long passed so now he had to just deal with the awkwardness of the fact he had only replied with silence. Finishing a glass of water he lent against the island table, separating himself from the rest, still trying to feel more engaged. He watched the TV, pretending like he hadn't been ghosting everyone all day. He spoke softly, and it was almost the first time he had engaged in proper conversation “What is uh...it that we're doing tomorrow?” he questioned softly. “Well, at noon you all have to make a statement to the press about the tour. They'll be wanting to know about your thoughts and aspirations as they usually do. Then you'll rehearse before the show. So make sure you get some good rest tonight! The tour has only begun”.

The air still felt tender so no one else pitched up. Until a moment passed and Ringo turned around “You gonna grab a bite to eat Paul-?”, but Paul had already left the room.

Paul was never one much for small talk. Sure he could put on a smile and pretend to care about relative topics whilst engaging in business talk, usually because it was an event Brian had him playing golden boy for. But he didn't have the effort in him to stand there any longer and retreated.

*

The next morning, once Mal had done the rounds of waking the boys up, Paul continued sleeping. Assuming Paul had been up and going it wasn't until the boys had finished breakfast when there still was no sign of him. “Ey has Paul joined you boys yet?”. John looked at the others whilst they reciprocated confused looks. “No, did you make sure to wake him?” George said with half a mouthful of bacon. “Yea, but he's usually awake before I even knock on the door. I'll go check”. Sure enough Paul was still deep asleep. “Paul. Paul. Hey-” he clapped, sending Paul straight out of whatever dream he'd had. “Time to get ready now, or you'll be late”. He noticed Paul's disorientation. “Didn't get much sleep did you? Looks like you had a rough night”, eyeing at the bird's nest- Paul's hair had formed from all the tossing and turning. “Oh and don't think you're leaving this place without breakfast either, Brians wants to make sure you eat something”.
What was with everyone wanting him to eat? If he wasn't hungry he didn't need to be babysitted. Groggily he got himself to the shower again. He could feel the lack of sleep catching up to him. The severe nightmares he was having meant he could only sleep in increments.

This time Paul put on his suit. He felt a bit proper, seeing himself looking put together, but it was a complete contrast to what was going on inside. Joining the guys at the table he still refused to engage in conversation unless he needed to.

It was an hour's drive to the venue, and then another 20 minutes to get inside, and then waiting on everyone to get organized would take another ten. So it meant he had only 15 minutes to eat and then head out the door. He thought that maybe if he must, he could just have a mouthful of toast and sidetrack himself, so that maybe he wouldn't have to eat too much. “Right, make sure you eat all that, then we can finally get on our way”. “I'm not that hungry Mal, besides toast isn't gonna be that nutritious anyway”. Paul looked down at his sad untouched toast. “Well have some bacon or whatever, doesn't matter what, just something. Ya can’t argue against the bosses orders, you know that-”. “Know what?”, Brian had entered the room eagerly. “There you go Paul, here's the man himself”. Paul subsided in any argument. He ate his breakfast reluctantly as he saw Brian give him his motherly look, of ‘do what you're told’.
“Good morning boys”. You all look sharp, that's good to see. Now the press is only questioning you for 20 minutes, so if you can just keep your smiles on and, im looking at you John, quick witted comments to a low, I would appreciate it”.

~
Mal helped Neil pack their instruments into one car, while the boys gathered into another. They arrived at their destination, working their way through all the fuss and commotion that greeted them wherever they went.
It was a quick and easy Q & A for the other three, but for Paul it was the longest 20 minutes of the whole day.
The bright lights and multitude of voices overlapping each other, each fighting for a chance to be heard, was overstimulating. Paul could hardly concentrate on anything the reporters had to say. Unfortunately, Paul being the frontman in most cases, had the majority of the questions thrown at him if they weren’t directed at John. Though, when he could he tried shielding himself behind Ringo. Later stating to the press that his behavior was off due to a stomach bug.

~
It wasn't until they had been halfway through rehearsals when Paul felt a familiar turn in his stomach. The toast had worked its way through. Meanwhile, they continued with their set up as usual. Starting with an easy cover, working through some old songs, then new ones from their latest album, before finishing with a fan favourite- twist and shout.

Paul wasn't sure how he was going to execute his ‘jovial act’. Anytime they played he’d get a surge of energy, feeding off the audience, his confidence growing as the boys had fun throughout the show. But it was going to have to be pretend this time. He tried convincing himself that once they start, everything would be fine. That as soon as the crowd starts cheering, they’d all get lost in the music, and maybe just for a brief moment he'd feel normal again, but it just didn't seem that easy.
Rehearsals were slow. At first George couldn't find his lead, then Ringo had to re-tune one of his drums. Whilst they waited Paul began thinking of the new song he was working on, before he scraped it to the side. He didn't know exactly what he was asking then, but it made more sense now. Maybe it was something he could work on in the quiet moments to keep himself busy. That's all it was, just keep himself busy. But god he kept relapsing . He felt hot and unnerved, like someone was watching him constantly. An overwhelming fear began approaching, Paul's paranoia growing within. What if Mark came back? What if he was there in the crowd or waiting behind a corner? Pulling at his collar he placed his bass down and swiftly made his way to the restroom.

It was all becoming too real for Paul. Mark was still out there. Still scott-free. Probably lying in the fucking sun somewhere, while Paul was suffering. Then it hit, a sudden pain within him. He knew he shouldn't have eaten the fucking toast, god dammit Brian! He sat down. Wanting it to be over and done with, but the procedure seems to take its time. It almost felt like something was ripping through him again and the disgusted hate came back. Feeling weak again he tried not to cry. He felt almost proud that he was able to get back to his feet again, but if this was what it was going to be like from now on, he didn't know how long he'd be able to deal with it.

Despite feeling defeated, and in no mood to perform to a crowd of screaming young fans, he pushed forward. He tried his best to revisit past performances where he got lost in the excitement of it all, but he couldn't stay detached for long enough. Every step closer he took to that stage, the whiter he became, colour drawing from his face. Knuckles turning white against the neck of his base. Sweat pooling already above his brow. Throat dryer than the Sahara desert, but he couldn't act up now. They were all ready to go, it was show time.

Chapter Text

The lights are brighter. There's far more noise than usual. Each step is like his shoe is filled with lead, too heavy to take the next.
Rushing on stage, the habit takes a hold of him, naturally knowing how to perform. Plugging in the bass kicked him back to reality. Somehow he was going to have to pretend, but there was no time to resist that, he had all eyes on him now.

They quickly jumped into their first number, then the second and third. John paused for a moment to connect to the audience, however nothing could be heard no matter how hard he tried.
It was this moment when the band had taken a break when Paul realized something haunting. Anyone could be in the crowd, anyone. A mad man or men perhaps. There could be any number of people out there plotting wicked things just waiting for a chance to lurk on him, or any other members of the band. Sick and twisted thoughts that people couldn't help themselves too, taking advantage of someone who just wants to bring genuine happiness to the world. But there were monsters out there, anywhere and everywhere. Hell Mark could be in the crowd for all he knew. Of course he could be.
Paul tugged at his collar, his entire body going stiff, with the hairs on his neck and arms rising quickly through the thick air. There was that suffocating feeling again. The crowd's noise folded and maneuvered, warping into a high pitch, nothing made sense. The lights from ahead became hotter and hotter, sweat trickled down his forehead, beads of sweat tracing the sides of his face. Paul's knuckles held tighter to the bass, searching for stability, but if you could look close enough they were white with discomfort.
It was only when they kicked into their next number that Paul had missed his cue, leaving John without his second voice. Once he heard John and noticed his questioning expression, it brought him right back. He stuttered, looking for the right chords, only joining in a few seconds later. He controlled his way through the set, trying to keep the act up for as long as he physically could despite the tedious thought coming back to him every few seconds. What if he was there? Or beyond the stage? Waiting in a car? Or at their next hotel. There were eyes everywhere. Judging him. Observing him. Praying on him.

They finished soon enough. Without a second to lose, they bowed simultaneously and Paul dashed right off stage before the others had the chance to turn around.

He had made it through an agonizing show, somehow managing not to disappearing half way through; it would have left far too many questions. Bolting straight past the security and stage managers, avoiding contact with the crew and roadies. He filtered through halfway and found a dark storage closet. The minute he shut the door behind himself he collapsed down the wall.

Finally, quiet. Nothing but his heavy breaths and he light hum of the crowd still screaming. His breathing was rocky, and panic was making it difficult to exhale. It didn't matter if Brian was going to kick up a storm that Paul had vanished from the stage, he needed everyone to just fuck off.

He had noticed it before. A suffocation of no privacy ever, and now it seemed as if everyone had something out for him. Whether it was fans wanting to dig their way through security, Brian pestering him, or the guys constantly checking on him, it was destroying him.
It only became worse when he tried to comb his hand through his hair, a natural habit he did when stressed. No triggered by a rush of remembrance, he practically threw his hand away from him (if that was even possible). His mind had seemingly blocked out a lot of the visuals from that night, but he remembered everything else. Feeling, hearing, not enough to pretend or envision something else. Muscle memory was sometimes a horrible thing.

There was no escaping it. What Mark had done. There was going to be too many basic things ruined for as long as Paul could fathom. Worst of all he couldn't talk through any of it. No way to vent or ask for comfort. He couldn't act out either, his job may be the only thing he had left, who would want to hire a crashed out Beatle otherwise? Paul was only ever known as the PR guy, Mr Know It All, the charmer, the business one, the compliant one. He had an imperishable reputation. Tearing that all down would never mean second chances. It seemed that his only options were prison, hospitalization for the mentally unstable, aloneness, or sucking it up. Unless, of course. He could manage it. He could escape it all mentally perhaps, still be there physically, but make everything easier.

He had settled a bit more now, breathing steadier and the anxious shakes he had, only just noticing the lack of, were distant. It was dangerous, but he had been told there were ways to deal with “all the shit you hold up inside”. Paul had his head against the wall, embracing the most peace he had in months, recalling an interesting encounter he had had over six months ago. He had caught Ray Charles on one of his more sober days, at a get-together one night. He was curious about the new drug Ray had been rambling on, taking no notice that the possibility of a nark eavesdropping was high, about how good the stuff really was. That it made him cope and become a better, manageable version of himself, and that no wonder the drug had become popular (little did he know that said man would be hospitalized for it that year). Paul hardly knew about any of that stuff beforehand. He had only just met with Bob Dylan not that long ago either, who had passed around a little bit of weed, introducing the boys, especially Paul to a whole new perspective. But weed isn't the solution. Ray had told him to never trust weed when you're a sad man. That it would only make it worse, a little bit of Golden brown would do the trick. Enough to make the thoughts go away, but keep you physically all there. Paul had shrugged him off, never intentionally wanting to use the stuff himself. Christ, Goody-two-shoes, Paul stayed away from uppers, those seemed too harmful for him. But those were simpler times; drastic times called for drastic measures.

A voice briskly filled with concern passed the closet. Paul heard the voice get quieter the further away it became, but he had noticed his name, amongst the mumble jumble of other things. It removed him from his thoughts once again. He stood in the closet, waiting for silence on the other side. He didn't want to appear bizarre stepping out by himself.

It became apparent to him that he was now dealing with ‘future me’ issues when he had reappeared before Brian, getting an earful of what was expected.
“Where the bloody hell have you been Paul?! I've had nearly everyone in this building searching for you the last 20 minutes! We were supposed to be out of here long ago to beat the crowds, you know that!”. Brian was irritated, and he had every right to be so. Paul looked around the room at the mildly upset looks on the other guys faces. He noticed the crew coming back, disappointed that he had appeared without urgency, meaning the whole chaotic rush was for nothing. Paul didn’t care. He didn't feel sorry, or shameful, not even angry enough to complete a screaming match with Brian, for position over who was right. Usually Paul always stood his ground, if one thing was sure, he was a good business man because he was more stubborn than a brick wall.
“Well I'm here now. Let's go”. It fell cold as he moved his way to the doorway dismissing the questioning eyes. It bothered not just Brian but the others, by the arrogance he possessed. “You know Brian's right, Paul. You can't just shoot off like that, we’re a band you know, get your shit together and stop being selfish".
Paul scoffed at John's unnecessary remark ,“Oh like you're the innocent one, not like we were searching for you at Sullivans show, worried someone had done you a good one, when really, you were shackin'up with some bird”, brows drawing in frustration, never understanding John's logic. If someone had a problem with John he could do no wrong, but if someone did something to upset him it was sometimes the end of the world. But what was with his tone? John sometimes had a temper, he understood that, and believed John was bipolar somedays too, but that was uncalled for.
“Well?!” John said eagerly. “Well what !?”. “Were ya with some bird or not?!” funny how double sided that question really was. “No John, I wasn't if you really need to know-,”, he looked to Brian, then to the others “I just.. Had to find a restroom, and it took me twice as long to get back cause I got lost alright!”. “Didn't you disappear during rehearsals, you should've known the way then” George piped up. “Oh whatever, it doesn't matter! Now like I said, let's go, I’m here. I Don't see the reason for you to chew my ear off any further!”. He stormed away towards Mal who was waiting patiently for them, assuming he'd know where he needed to be, “We’ll have to go out the back way now Paul, the fans have taken over the other exits, cars just out this way”. Which was really the back alley way, the only way out . Without too much extra fuss Brain ushered the rest to follow. Ringo stepped forward, then George and finally John, making sure he was last and not the next to sit with Paul for the ride back to the hotel.

Three huddled into the back seat, whilst John took the front, Brian joining Mal and Neil in the car behind. The awkwardness radiated throughout each person, even the driver didn't say a word to interfere with the tension. Ringo was right next to Paul and though it was crowded he could tell Paul was stiffened with either, no space- the logical option, temporary rage to thrash anyone (mostly John or Brian) in the side of the head, or from the plain discomfort written all over his face. If it wasn't for the already frustrating scene, maybe Ringo could've had a word with him

It didn't take long for the boys to arrive at their destination, it sure did help that they practically got escorted everywhere. This time they arrived at a new hotel for the next couple of days, playing their next shows further in Rome until their next flight to Denmark.

It was another quiet night. Paul was tired and couldn't wait till he could get to sleep again. Unfortunately, this hotel wasn't as grand as the others which meant there were fewer beds. They had entered the suite and John found his way to a room, quick to claim the nicest one, “Ritchie you're with me, we've got the king bed, the other two can share the queen”. Ringo only responded with fewer words, not really having a say since Paul was definitely out of the question and George and John hadn't been on terrific terms either. “It's okay, I'll share with ya Paul, as long as you don't snore”. “You know I don't George” he said, placing his suitcase on the right side of the bed. “Oh that's right, John’s the one that snores, sounds like bloody elephant!”, George said loud enough so that the latter could hear- “Yea and don't forget that you're the one who seems to fight demons in his sleep!” he shouted from the other room.

*
Later that night when they had all fallen asleep, Paul had woken various times to the same recurring nightmares. This time it was much worse since he didn't have a bed to himself. He was on more alert, feeling a presence next to him. Every time his mind, deep asleep, seemed to forget it was just George, replaced it with Mark. He woke up constantly, with his heart beating in his chest, and as he woke up he panicked thinking it wasn't a dream anymore and that he was close to being attacked again. Until that is, the figure didn't move and he realized he was okay.
All Paul wanted was to be able to sleep, the days were hard enough, at least this way his mind wouldn’t-shouldn't be working at all.
The third time he awoke, he sat up, waking George in the process. In a hazed state and blinded by the lack of light, he could still make out that Paul was unsettled due to the quick breathing, “You alright there mate? Had a bad dream huh?”. “Yea. I’m alright though. George felt Paul lie back down and did so himself, it was unusual for Paul to have nightmares, but with his recent odd behaviour it sort of made sense. George thought nothing of it at the time, being a grown man usually meant you didn't have nightmares, or at least if you did you definitely didn't need to talk about them. But it bothered him how unsettled Paul had been so much. George drifted off before he thought too much more about it, whilst Paul laid awake for over an hour.

The next morning Whilst Paul was showering George was eating breakfast with the other two, with a topic sitting on his tongue he wasn't sure how to address.
“Listen, Fellas. Whatever it is that may not be between you too-”, he looked at John who was dead opposite of him, "- or something that is. I- don't want to push you any further, but I'm serious, when I'm saying this. Somethings not right”. Ringo stopped reading the newspaper and looked up to George in a confused amazement. Once more George was never known for talking about ‘sissy’ problems, he had struggles enough being the youngest, so he couldn't be weak otherwise he'd be the group's punching bag. Neither of the two spoke but remained listening intently, eyes heavy on George. “We've all been noticing the behaviour lately, and maybe he's upset or what not about stress or y'know or whatever it is but… he’s had nightmares. Last night he had three. The first two didn't seem too bad but on the third…-” George gave a grimace look to the other three. “What George?”John said impatiently. “Well he, uh” was it his place to stay? He wasn't even sure if Paul was aware of it himself, maybe he wouldn't want the concern from it, but sometimes concern means crossing boundaries- to a point. “Well he was sort of..screaming? Like not wailing, but as if…like when you're obviously asleep. Like in his dream he was asking for help. He was also extremely restless. I..I.. Just don't think that sort of stuff can come from an argument or worry?”. “Unless, suppose he was having a dream about drowning, I've had one of those before, ain't pleasant”, trying to reassure everyone Ringo gave an honest attempt. But he could still see the concern in both of Georges and Johns eyes that this matter couldn't be subsided. “Yeah but it just doesn't seem like drowning” George put his toast down contemplating whether he was the one being over concerned or that the other three were being obnoxiously blind. “Dunno, whatever it is I'm sure he'll tell us when he's ready”, John shrugged off, copyrighting Ringo's line. George also didn't know what to make of that either. Was John being calm about it in a ‘he knows he's right’ sort of way? Which really- an argument doesn't add up here. OR, he has no fucking clue and is just being Stubborn, prickly John.

Before much more could be said Paul stepped around the corner, habitually avoiding any eye contact. He also did not greet the boys either, leaving a cold awkward atmosphere wherever he went.
It was now that Ringo finally put his reassurance to the side and properly looked at Paul. The once happy go-lucky, always grinning, well motivated and properly dressed McCartney now looked disheveled, lifeless, so dark and.. broken? He could give advice to the others, but he knew that it was false hope, now that he took in the boy as he was now.

Paul made his way to the kitchen and made his way to the kettle. He hadn't eaten much over the last week . But now he was in a new hotel, he felt more relaxed being able to push some of the trouble away, pretend he was in a different world where it didn't happen, except of course he couldn't forget. The tea was nice though, the warm mug embraced his frozen fingers; that seemed more prominent than usual, but so did his cheek bones and whole body. Paul had eaten an insignificant amount, and it rapidly began to show. If it weren't for the eye bags and the disordered posture, maybe the guys would have caught on to it as well.

*
Throughout the next few days they continued with touring and spending their days with either an interview, photoshoot, or spending time writing more songs, before rehearsals and shows. It was miserable and completely different from what their working dynamics used to be. George and Ringo were often ‘too’ quiet whenever Paul was in the room, and they didn't like the fact they felt a rise of tension in John also. Paul felt unmotivated to want to do anything right now, he wished he could just get on a plane and go home. Just go back to his dad and forget it all just for a little while. But it wasn't possible by far. He was also starting to notice John's cold shoulder. It was subtle at first but it began to bother him too much than he thought it should.
But after all he was the one to tell him to go away as he needed space, he just hoped Lennon didn't take it too personally like he always does.

After two weeks Paul was still experiencing paranoia on stage. Sometimes completely forgetting lyrics, having to give the audience an awkward smile while sometimes Ringo was able to save his ass by giving the drums a quicker beat; still Paul managed to hide it well. However, he hardly spoke in interviews; if he did it was short answers that were straight to the point. During photo shoots he remained distant, not really wanting to express much, despite trying to put on a fake smile every now and again, rather he was still healing and needed to save his energy on just being there. Rehearsals were the most tiring, and he sometimes found himself acting out towards the others, or getting easily irritated.

Paul wasn't dealing too well with the recurring days that never stopped and it caught up to him fast. Often he tried avoiding the after-show parties, but it was the night before when he couldn't quite work himself out of one. Brian had forced them to go to, and Paul found himself in another storage closet, having another ‘episode’ that he didn't understand what was happening to him, but he surely didn't need any witnesses.

Every couple of days he was having episodes, sometimes he couldn't bite his tongue or run off and hide and he'd say something blunt about someone; which hurt him too because the last thing he wanted to do was sabotage the strong friendships he had.

Paul eventually had time to himself one evening after arguing with Brian about not wanting to attend another useless ‘meet and greet’ because he didn't want to stand there for hours talking to pretentious ballbags about business that was never going to get anywhere. Luckily for Paul, he had pleaded his way through his case and got to stay back, which also resulted in the others abandoning Brian, because ‘if he doesn't have to go why should we’.

Paul disappeared to his room, this time he was sharing with Ringo since his nightmares were becoming too much for George, constantly disrupting his sleep; though George knew Paul couldn't help it, he needed rest too.

The others were relaxing in their own ways, whilst Paul picked up his Journal that had been collecting dust for the last one to two weeks. There was the love song he
had going, but quickly stranded that idea for the time being. It was the other song he had disregarded earlier that peaked his interest.
It was the other song he had written, when he was getting too overwhelmed beforehand, it was not quite a poem but him venting but also capturing everything he wanted the world to hear, whilst not yelling for them at all.
The only thing he had written so far was “When I was younger so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any way”, which was beginning to form a verse. Paul picked up a pencil aiming to just get some form of raw emotions out , but not explicit enough someone would need to question it. He continued with parts for his chorus “Help me if you can, I'm feeling down”- an understatement. “And I do appreciate you being round-” he just wanted to be able to tell John he still wants him, it was just too complicated when he couldn't even really feel likeness for usual things, let alone romance.
Then a silent cry to the world, sure there needed to be more lyrics in between if he wanted to use it as a song. tHe did wonder if he was coming off too strong but the songs he had always written were outlets for his emotions. So why should it be any different now? If the world didn't like it, then screw them, unfortunately it's not like they pay enough attention to their actual work anyway with all the screaming...”Won't you please, please help me”.

Chapter Text

The boys boarded in the early hours of the morning. Finally finished with Rome they headed to Denmark for the next two weeks. It's not really a change that bothered the rest, as they are accustomed to new places all the time, but as you would imagine the flight away from the past behind him, was relieving for Paul. He stared through the window, watching the city fall beneath him. He felt like he could finally escape the physicalities of it all, but there was always a cloud hanging over him. Fear ridden, Paul couldn't truly believe it wasn't going to follow him, no matter how far he could get.

John sat opposite Paul, on the other side of the aisle. To Paul, it still seemed like John was mad, he still had no clue why. To John it appeared Paul didn’t want anything to do with him. So they sat, separated by arrogance and ignorance, keeping to themselves the entire flight.
There was a strong miscommunication growing between them. Neither sure about how or exactly when it came between them, but each day was feeling longer, the more they kept to themselves.

John had been mad since the silent treatment Paul had been giving him for days. He felt shut off. For someone who could figure everything out by a subtle facial expression, it was driving John mad. Paul's weird behaviour, as well as the disappearing and slightly rude attitude towards everyone else, was pissing John off even more. Paul acted the part of a prince sometimes, but John didn't appreciate it whenever it went too far to his head. It was strange at first when Paul wasn't answering questions, and mopping around like a beaten dog. Then next when they were rehearsing. He kept looking at Paul, and something wasn't right at all. He was still very pale, he seemed unfocused, and whatever spirit he always seemed to carry with him, wasn’t there. No tap in his foot, no grin too wide to bear, or even the sway in his hips and shoulders was gone. By the time they reached the stage John couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable Paul really was. To add to the chaos, Paul disappeared right after the show, all by himself, and came back like he couldn’t have done anything wrong. They had waited on him, and all he could come up with was ‘the bathroom’. John had done an act like this before, but at least he thought he was sorry about it.

The pieces of the puzzle really weren't adding up. There was a lingering presence of an issue that clung to Paul, but it was if someone held a gun to his head every second, preventing him from saying a word.

John sat there, watching the world fall beneath him, begging fate to change when they landed. A new place, to freshen up, hopefully convincing enough that Paul would reach out.
However, John kept thinking, tying him up in a thread of other complicated thoughts. If Paul wasn't telling John anything, no matter how hard he tried to assure him he could, then he simply didn’t want to let his guard down any further; just for Paul to hurt him back. The potentiality of John having caused a mistrust in Paul, stung hard, and every day that the topic wasn't discussed, was creating more uncertainty

John was riddled with anger and curiosity that seemed to lead further down the path of John's misery. He had felt so disconnected from Paul, that he began to believe it was best to really leave him alone. That he had really screwed everything between them. Paul hated him and that was it. So John grew mad. Mad that he had been rejected by someone he thought he could trust and love with his life. But also punished by silent treatment, for something he was actually ready to talk through.
There were other elements to it too.
He couldn't stop thinking from that night before. That mark. The placement, the reason for it. He liked no part of it. Paul could've ended up with a bird, John knew it was fair play, but could a bird do that?
Picking at his thumb, calculating all the… possibilities of how it got there or why Paul would even …go there. The mark seemed so insignificant at the time, but John's stomach dropped with dread.
Someone of such a kind, may know how a mark like that gets on one's shoulder. There was a shift within John's realization. Had Paul gone with another bloke? Had Paul really taken it that extra step further and cheated! With another man!?
How could he really have done that, after all the fuss. If that was the case then maybe Paul wasn't against the idea, maybe he was just repulsed by his being. Was he too unlovable? The more self pity John internalized, the quicker the rage grew.

When he looked over at Paul, he didn't know what to make of him. What he saw was a recluse, and not the usual McCartney he knew. Perhaps Paul had cheated and then he felt bad. That must be it. It would at least explain the guilty behaviour. So maybe if he had, then he deserved to feel guilty, he would give Paul the silent treatment back.
Without giving reason, he did not give Paul the time or place for the entire flight; and the next few days.
`

Paul stayed away from asking any questions. It was pretty obvious to see that John was unnerved by something, and whenever he experienced this mood, everyone around him knew to give him the space. It's not that they didn't care, but that it was the smarter option not to poke a stick at an infuriated bear.
Afterall, he definitely felt at fault for most of it anyway. He had pushed John away twice, why would he try again if he had pushed him too far. What was worse is that Paul knew how quickly John could close up too. He just couldn't tell him… at least not yet. How could he ever tell him, maybe things would just smooth out once they finished the tour, if John would ease up.
At first it was his tone at the show, but now John was not even sitting with him, or acknowledging him.
The grief grew in Paul. He wanted to confide in him, but now his best friend seemed to hate him, it's like he had done everything completely wrong.
Paul felt like he was going insane, and sank lower into his self pity.

They land at the airport a little while later. Filter through crowds, fly through vehicles, till their destination. Fill into their suite and continue matters per usual.
*

It had been a few days of the usual routine until one night Paul got a phone call.

Until then, Paul had been getting used to the occasional panic attack, brain fog, and cold shoulder from not only John, but he felt everyone was acting weird towards him too.
Whenever he entered a room it went quite, he often caught people glancing at him, always with a concerned expression. It felt like people were walking on thin ice around him, he didn’t want them too. He wanted them to treat him like normal, that way he'd have a sense of normality. The babying had finally stopped though which was both delightful and saddening. He didn't like the fact he was treated incompetent, but now there was a lack of care. He reclused to himself even more, figured that it was the safest place he could be if there was no one else to turn too. The days were getting longer and night time was still hard. The nightmares were less consistent but sleeping didn't get any better.

It was late one night when Mal, Neil and Brian decided to have a few drinks with the boys, catching up on their progress and how successful they’d already been whilst in Europe.
The phone rang suddenly. Heads turned around. The only calls the hotel would accept for their room were managers, consultants, or relatives and or close friends/ partners. Occasionally an estranged fan would somehow convince the operators they were of importance and the minute someone would pick up the phone they'd be deafened by screaming on the other end. It was now Mal who answered calls first, he got up from the sofa, “Hey Paul it’s your brother Mike calling, says it's important”. Paul was quick to his feet, hoping to god the call wasn’t what he dreaded to be.

“Hey, Paul-” Mike's voice was tense and tired. “Hey Mikey? Everything going okay?” Paul hushed with urgency, aware that he didn’t want to cause a scene with worry to anyone eavesdropping. “Listen, it’s nothing to worry yourself about alright..”.
“What's going on Michael, is it Da? Do I need to be there?”. Paul shifted uncomfortably, like he wanted to run out the door to his father as soon as he could.
“Paul, are you well? I hope the tour’s going alright”. “Yea yea I’m well Mikey, tours going and all, what's up!? Is everything alright?!”.
“Da’s got pneumonia, Paul. Went for blood tests last week after the doctor called him back. Turns out it may be a bigger issue than we thought. But… he's being treated, he’ll be okay, he’s being looked after..”.
“Looked after? Like he's seen the doctor or is in the hospital?! ”, Paul sighed loudly enough that Mike felt it through the phone. “I knew something was wrong, he should’ve seen someone sooner”. Paul's tone got more serious and earned a sudden head turn from John.
“Paul, we tried, he's done it now, don’t stress ya self with all the ‘ifs’ or ‘should'ves’”.

Pauls lowered his voice again “How serious is it Mike?”, he started getting familiar knots in his stomach. “Well he's in hospital, ICU. I can’t lie Paul, he's not well, but that's only now, after a few days of nurses pampering him he’ll be right as rain. Nothing to worry yourself about. I'm here, and the cousins are going to stop by on their way down to London”. Mike was met with silence. “Hes going to be okay Paul-”. Paul held the receiver close, pressing his brows, “How do you know that-”. Both boys remained quiet for a moment, both trying to deny the sincerity of the possible outcome. “How’d…How’d it even get that bad…?” Paul began questioning, feeling a growing tightness in his chest. “They say that a large part of it was the smoking. They also questioned that there were damages left in his lungs from when Da had that fireman's job, saying the smoke and fumes had lead to tears and what not. Once the damage is done to the lungs he said that infections can take place quite easily, and because of the vulnerability of the muscle, it's much harder to fight viruses off, especially at his age”.
“-Jesus christ..”
“But Paul, he said they’ve dealt with cases before, and they're going to try whatever they can”.
“Well, how long do you think he'll be there for? Maybe if I've got the weekend off I could-”
“Im sure he’ll be home in no time Paul. Just a few days of antibiotics. I’ll let you know if anything changes yea. Youv’e got a job to do remember rockstar! I've got it covered here”.
“I know Mikey but sometimes there are things far more important than singing Y’know”.
“I know”.
There was another silence.
“Promise, you'll call if anything changes right Mike”.
“I will, Paul. Take care.”
“Thanks Mike, take care”.
With that he put the phone down and quickly left for his room. Covered by the chitchat in the room already he was able to flee the room, but it wasn't any match for the way John's gaze followed him like a hawk.

Paul shut the door behind him, failing back towards the wall palming his eyes.
Of course he contracted a deadly infection. Well not deadly if treated, but also if you were healthy enough beforehand. The risks of his fathers health were going to make things harder, of course they were. The McCartneys never did things by halves, goddamn it.
He felt an overwhelming surge of stress take over him, the same emotions he'd been fighting back for days. His knees gave out and he fell to the floor, sobbing into his arms, trying to muffle the sound from reaching the others. Why couldn’t things just not go wrong, was it too much to ask? What kind of black magic had he fucked with to be cursed like this. No dignity, no parents, no best friend or lover. Just the chore of being a stage monkey. He felt he didn't have much left for him, like everything he loved was being taken away.

He knew he couldn't keep pretending. At least keep pretending like it was all fine, sober. Denial was common with grief. Some people shut down completely and go insane, isolating themselves from everyone else. Or, others find ways to deal with it. They go through denial differently, creating a different world where they can exist, amongst others. But in their world they perceive things the way they want to. But to get to that world, either meant you me mentality broke, which Paul knew he was already too emotionally strong for, or you opened your senses. You find a bridge to get to that world. A relief. A temporary fix, to suppress the harmful realities that won't go away.

They were names for this, and Paul knew exactly which one to call.

Contacts. On the side of fame that was both a sin and blessing. It was so easy to fall into the wrong hands of anyone and anything. But it was also fucking helpful. Whatever you needed, whenever you needed, just call and they'd be there in a record amount of time.

*
It had only been two weeks but the drug had almost taken him completely. His skin clung to his bones. The colour of his face was long gone. His temper was almost compatible with Johns , if not worse. But he was happy, or at least he thought he was.
*

Paul, Started thinking of acquaintances he'd met over the years. Ryan, from Germany, the cargo driver . He was always a loyal lad, who would sometimes hook the boys up with the occasional pill or bit of weed, no questions asked. He was worth a shot. Luckily there was a phone on the bedside table. Dialing back the numbers Paul grew nervous, it was what he wanted, for sure, but absolutely no one could find out.
“Hello?”
“Ryan?”
“Yes, Hey Paul, how's it going!”
“Yeh its alright. Listen. Do me a favor yea, don’t go making a fuss about this or whatever, but a friend of mine was wondering if you’ve got any access to er”
“To…?”
"A little Golden Brown.”
“A friend of yours huh”
“Yes. Well..you got any?”
“....Sure Paul”
“Is there a way I can meet you soon?, er you know, they’ve just been asking me the last few days thats all, been forgetting about it”, he gave a light chuckle, trying to cover his ass.
“Yeah sure, where are ya? It might take a day or two to get there”.
“Ah yea, we’re in Denmark. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for your flight and-”.
“No no, with something like that, it’s better if I drive it. I’ll take the truck, they won’t fuss over it too much at the border, I can meet you tomorrow night yea?”.
“Okay thanks, call me where you want to meet once you get here”.
“Will do.”
“Er thanks Ryan”.
“No problem Paul”.
He arrived in Denmark in the late evening, leaving after noon that day. Finding a phone box he arranged to meet with Paul at a nearby park.

*
Paul laid in bed for a few hours until he fell into a deep slumber.
Moody and restless he moved through the next day fast, waiting for each hour to roll over. Until finally the boys had gone to bed. Paul waited for silence, slipped his coat and shoes on. Making his way out of the hotel door, he spotted the security guard at the other end of the hall, facing away from him. He had to be quiet. There was a fire exit just before him, if he could just get there without too much noise it'd be fine.
He closed the hotel door softly, taking careful steps, if he got caught now he’d be told to go back inside. He touched the door, pausing to notice the quiet snores coming from the guard, he was disturbed by this. The lack of actual protection these days was horrendous, no point having someone there if they're just going to sleep on the job. If was going to make it easy he thought, until the squeak of the door jolted him awake.
“Eh! Where d'ya think yer goin?”.
“Just goin for a ciggie, will be back in jif”.
“Hey!”.

Paul managed to slip out fast, bolting down the stairs, hoping for no chase.
When he got to the final exit he had to be sure no one was waiting outside.
Holding the door a jar, there was no sign of reporters or fans, far too late at night for that. Quick on his feet he got to Ryan within minutes.
“Hi”
“Hey. Here's the stuff. Listen Paul. I have to say-”
“I know, but remember it ain’t for me, don’t worry”
“Well sure, but still. This ain’t nothing like weed. I mean hell, it's far better. But it’s far more dangerous, please make sure however consumes this, ain’t gonna get lost in it.”
“I’m glad you care Ryan, it’s funny but nice-”.
Ryan gave an offended puzzled look.
“Well I just mean with you being a dealer and all, just sort of, ironic or hypocritical in a sense”.
“Listen, I just dont want anyone to fuck themselves up. I'm all for a good time and all, but take it carefully.”
“Sure thing, I’ll pass on the message”.
He grabbed the package, and went to turn away.
“Hey er. My friend was wondering also, how.. do you use it?”
Ryan scoffed
“Well, Usually you heat the stuff up and inject it. But this is pure, my stuff always is. You can just snort it. Just not like cocaine alright; little bits yea”.
“Alight. Hey-. Thanks”.
Ryan gave a nod and walked away.

Paul held the package in his hand, was a small bag, but must’ve been a decent amount, he knew Ryan wouldn't rip him off.

He made his way quickly up the stairs, package in his coat. Passing by the guard.
“See, I didn't take long!”
“Just get back inside would ya. Anything goes wrong, I’m responsible for you kids”.

Paul ignored the scolding. He was inside, mission accomplished.

It was late in the morning. But he was far too curious now to sleep. He sat on the floor, staring at the open bag. An instinct was holding him back, but his adrenaline was excited.
He took a little on his finger, slowly bringing it to his face, heart beating fast. He sniffed it up, tilting his head back waiting for a moment then WOA.

The rush was amazing. He felt his boy relax fully, slumping back against the floor.

He had no clue how long he was lying there for, but eventually the sun started shining through the curtain.

He didn't feel tired though he didn’t sleep. The drug had started wearing off, so that his thoughts could come back. He searched for the time, Mal would be here in an hour. He decided he could get ready now, no point getting into bed.
As the water hit his face he started feeling the brain fog crash down on him, feeling tired and uncomfortable again. Surely he would need another hit soon, if it wasn't going to last, and another throughout the day.
But he couldn’t be incompetent, he’d have to take smaller doses to still function, just more often.

So he got dressed, and stuffed the bag into his coat after taking another little bit out. It immediately felt better. He couldn’t move for a minute, accepting the rush of pleasure file through him.
He walked out the room, just as Mal was making his way to each room.
“Oh ‘ello Paul, good to see you up early”
“Morning Mal!”

Oddly cheery, Mal watched him walk off to the kitchen, it was nice to see McCartney return to his early bird self, so he shrugged it off.

The next few hours were quite nice, until he began getting restless. After an interview he noticed that the noise of a busy filled room was starting to give him a headache. He was crashing again, but how could he escape?
The constant staring was normal still, maybe even more so from the switch up in his mood, but he was already used to it. However, he needed to get to the bathroom quickly, praying it was empty.

*
He pulled out his bag, taking a small bit out. A process that he would repeat several times a day, for the next few weeks.

Paul couldn't get enough of the stuff. When he knew he didn't have to go anywhere, such as late at night, he'd maybe take more, riding the high out fully.
He hadn't thought about Mark for an entire week, or John, or his dad. One night he managed to get some clarity and wondered how things were going. Disillusioned by the drug, everything didn’t seem too bad. Since Mike hadn’t called, he believed it meant that his father was fine. It was a pleasant mentality. He was getting away with it, people thought he was getting back to his normal self, and all the issues from before just felt insignificant.

Days were far less longer, people seemed far easier to deal with. It was all like before. Bliss, as long as he was high. Whenever it was wearing off every part of him could feel it. If he got caught in a meeting, interview, or party, where the drug decided it had been long enough, his mood would switch easily. This was another issue for everyone around him. They had been getting used to walking on ice around Paul, who'd been spending the last month reserved.
But lately he had gone back to his usual self and was enjoying the routine. People finally felt relaxed, until he would act out again. It was a more confusing cycle than before. They couldn't predict when Paul would lash out or suddenly become irritated. One moment he was happy and laughing along, the next he would tell you you're an idiot and walk off.
However, Paul didn't notice the mood fluctuations, if he was getting irritated again, he would go take a hit, and he'd feel fine again, moving on with matters as before. Completely unaware that he was causing major concerns within the group.

“He’s going mad!”.
“It's honestly disturbing. I could deal with constant pity before, but now this is out of hand. It’s like we’ve got two Lennons now”.
“Yea, except Lennon 2.0 is the far more bipolar product”.

Both George and Ringo turned to John, expecting input, but he too was an enigma lately, growing cold, reserved”.

“What’d you think, John? Shall we go talk to him? We've left it too long, think there's seriously something wrong with him-”
“It’s not all about him you know! If hes got a fucking issue he should talk to us, we shouldn’t have to be some dopey twats that curl over to him whenever he’s had a bad day. We all have bad days, we just get over it”.
Clearly annoyed, he crossed his arms, looking down towards the table.

Patiently, Ringo decided to ask
“John. Is there something going on with you too? It’s pretty easy to see your upset. And if you believe that a person should speak up, now's your chance”.

Tongue caught, John continued.
“I just think Paul’s being too fussed over is all. He’s an adult, he makes his own decisions, and if he’s punishing himself for his mistakes then that's his problem. He seems fine anyway”.

George cut in “The guys not fine, John. By any means. Unless you’ve had your head in the sand, we’ve all noticed he’s got more unpredictable behaviour than you. It's unusual and we think it needs to be discussed. Even Brian has mentioned it. We can’t risk the split of this band because we're all too stuck up to help each other out”.

“The band's not gonna split! We’ve come too far for anything to happen. Besides it's my bloody band, and I'm not going anywhere, so anyone that leaves we’ll just get somebody else”.

“Wow John”, George scoffed.

Ringo said disappointed. “You know part of being in a band is getting along with each other. Considering you said we were brothers to you, this is low”. Ringo looked over at John sympathetically, “If you’re having a bad day, it’s not fair for you to take it out on us either, especially since you’re an adult and all”.

John knew he was in the wrong but didn't reply.
It was getting easier over the years to deal with a Lennon meltdown, most of it was just a personnel reflection, without any direct infliction to piss anyone off. Though, it was still important to remind John. He sat silently, confliction written on his face.

“What I’m saying, John, is that as a family, we help each other out. We work through problems together. Now I don’t go as far back with you as George or Paul, but I know you enough to understand some things about you. I know you’re troubled, And I’m not saying you’re less important, we care for you too John, and we want you to talk to us at any point, that's what we're here for. But as of late, Paul’s also the one who's been acting off, to the point we're genuinely concerned. You can’t say that you haven’t noticed”.

Ringo could see John agree with him, though he wasn't likely to admit it.

John, gave in to his stubbornness, “Well what are you gonna do about it then? You know he ain’t gonna talk”.

George suggested. “We need to talk to Brian”.

Chapter Text

“Paul, sit down son”.

“What's this about Brian? Ain't gonna tell me bad news are you, do me like Pete?” he gave a laugh.

Brian smiled but returned to his seriousness. Paul sat in an accompanying chair, a little intimidated by the way Brian leaned against the counter.
“Paul, I amongst others, have…well grown concerned about your well-being”.

Paul turned his head, “Concerned?”.
“Your growing behaviours, and unpredictable attitude is upsetting. We've discussed-”.
“Wait, hang on, what do you mean we? Who's upset?”.
“Well Paul, the guys of course, Mal, Neil. We've all noticed that something's taken a toll. Most of all, you seem to be almost… Let's say back to yourself. It was strangely sudden”.

“What on earth is it that you mean?”, an irritated tone approached within the question.

“I think it’ll be best if I just let them speak for themselves”.

**
“Brian, can we talk to you about something?”.
“Yes George”, he accepted with a polite smile.
“Have you noticed Paul's behaviour recently”.
“Well it has crossed my mind one or twice. Though, I'm sure he is managing it…respectfully”.
“Well that's what we're concerned about”.
Brian looked intently at George to carry on.

“We, er, need you to talk to Paul. John, Ringo and me self, think there's something bothering him. He won't talk to us and his mood is an enigma.
He’s been switchin' between happy to depressed , sometimes blaming us for really minor things. The guys are trying their hardest to hold their tongue, but there's only so much we want to take. We thought that may be by getting you to say something, he may actually listen”.

“Mm yes. I have noticed Paul hasn’t been the best of himself. Mal first mentioned it to me on the plane but I thought it was just, you know, ‘new tour blues’ or such”.

“Well that's what we've all been thinking, except he got worse, and then without warning he's fine again. Just doesn't make sense”.

“And you're sure this isn’t something between, you know, the Lennon/McCartney rivals they go through periodically?”.

“ I assumed it was. But it's far more than that, though, John isn't being easy about this either…”.

“I understand. I’ll talk to him, see what there is to find out. Perhaps I should've mentioned something earlier, let's hope we haven't let any wounds get deeper. Thank you George”.
**

Brian stepped out of the room, down the hall, approaching the fellow Beatles waiting in their own suite gesturing them to follow.

Meanwhile Paul sat nervously. Wondering if he'd have enough time to get a hit in before Brian reappeared. Too risky.
Uncomfortably, he stood up, pacing. What was this? Strange, what was Brian trying to tell him?

Without a moment more, they stepped through into the room, fixating on the figure, now stood next to the window
“Take a seat boys. Paul? Would you care to join us please”.
“Brian what is this?”...

*
“So that's it? You all think I’ve gone nuts huh? Can a man not just deal with his own shit. It's not bothering anyone”.

“Well Paul it is. You see, we do genuinely care for you, seeing you like this is hard for everyone”.

Paul knew he wasn’t in any position to chew Brian out, but being backed into a corner was claustrophobic.

“I know you care. But what do you really expect to do? My problems are currently unfixable. So what is there to do but just get on with ones day.”
Cold, but less snappy, it was almost a half decent excuse.

“Unfixable, maybe, though I would consider no problem unsolvable; no matter how big or small. But holding it to yourself, is what will drive man crazy-”, Brian argued.

“-You're not crazy Paul. But if you keep going like this, the sudden mood swings, and your outbursts, are gonna drive everyone else mad”.
It was somehow the first semi- nice thing John had to say from the last few days. // John had grown concerned since getting Brian involved. The cat and mouse games were one thing, but John hated to admit it, seeing Paul become a bigger mess than himself, was scaring him.

“Listen Paul, your issues don't make you weak or less of a man. We want you to talk about it. I actually read somewhere, venting is a good mental way to release stress, medically proven to ease the…eer?” Ringo looked at George for help, George gave a IDK shrug back,- ”uh the nervous system I think it was..”.

“The point is Paul, we need you to feel comfortable telling us anything. We can’t sit here, pretending any longer that you’re okay when you're obviously not”.

How obvious he had been? He thought he was hiding it better, way better than before, now that he could finally wear a mask again. Suppose he had been too distracted to really see it.

It was a conversation that dragged on more than it should've, but after calming down, seeing the reasons for their confrontation, he surrendered to their assurance, telling no more than he needed to.

They left the conversation without dreading Paul would go hay wire, though still unpleased by the lack of progress into finding out what was behind his mask. But though they did have to accept, sometimes things stay behind locked doors for a reason. They did all they could, at least they knew he was aware of that.

Paul's strange behaviour continued for the next few days however he started appearing more relaxed, acting out less. Perhaps the sit down had worked.
Still there was a strangeness in his eyes, the way he talked, or interacted in conversation.

The heroin was a good distraction. But the drug wore off too fast, causing him to retreat back to ‘selfish behaviours’. It was clear he couldn't control himself as much as he thought he could, but he wasn't considering dropping the drug; he needed it. He couldn't live without it. Too good and too used to it, Paul knew it would have harsher consequences leaving it behind. So, there had to be other ways to attack this situation.

People took pills, sometimes multiple, and they seemed to function fine. If you could take multiple pills and be treated, then why couldn't he mix. Not pills of course, …relaxants.

He could roll it into his cigarettes, no one would suspect. Have a bit when he was coming down, and he could do it in public. Thinking seriously he wondered if he even needed the heroin anymore, probably safer to just stick to one thing right.

*
It had been a week since Paul had switched to pot. People didn't even approve of this drug, though it was a lot less harmful. So he continued to roll it with tobacco, somehow avoiding a lingering, questionable smell. It still didn't seem to work for him though, somehow he may have been worse before. He thought that maybe Charles was right, don't take it when you're depressed, but personally it didn't make sense, especially since every time he used it before it was quite the opposite.

Throughout the week the constant stares and worry could be felt everywhere. This time he was sure it had something to do with his appearance. The drugs had an effect physically, taking away his baby fat, skin clinging to his bones, still the wild behaviour outbursts, but the scabs. Scabs that started to show on his arms, then his jaw line. Paul had subconsciously been scratching like a bug was crawling under his skin. He was in withdrawal. So, decidedly, he found his way back, taking both like he had strategized.

*
Overall, his mood was better. In fact people thought he had come right, except for the fact there was a strangeness in his eyes and the way he interacted in conversation, as if he wasn't there at all.
On the brink of reality, Paul felt the satisfaction of existing physically, but the constant escape was worth more than anything. He had found a perfect balance. Floating in a space, no thoughts weighing him down anymore. Alive, and not just surviving it anymore.

*
“Hes…come right, I think”, Ringo mentioned one evening whilst Paul dipped out for a cigarette.
“It's strange, he… he's become too relaxed” John couldn't help but notice.
“Considering the defensiveness before, and now he doesn't seem to hesitate with anything… Do we call that personal growth?”George said sarcastically.

“I think we need to see a bigger picture”.
“What do you mean George?”. Ringo said through a mouthful of potatoes.
“Theres a look in his eye, you can’t tell me you haven't seen it”.

“Well I have, but we all are guilty of a bit of grass sometimes, it doesn't hurt anybody, quite frankly if this is what has taken for him to calm down, then so be it”.
“You're missing the point, John”.
“I don't think we should be that worried, what's the worst he could do, it's a relaxant for christ's sake”.

“Yeah, but he's never been one to just go off and do it himself is he? You or any one of us usually have to influence the guy”.
“Don't we sound so nice to hang around”.
“John please, focus”.
“Alright, what is it you're trying to get to?”

“What ya talking about”, appearing inside before the others had realized.
“Er nothing important…Paul” George stuttered.

“Right”, Paul continued. Walking by, too unbothered to know for sure whether he didn't care or he didn't want to care.

They paused until they saw him disappear around the corner.

“All I'm saying is that, we need to be careful about how we get caught up in this..life”.

“Don't know who you mean by we, were not the ones-”

“John! Clearly we’re not the concern here, it's tiring having to repeat the obvious to you. If he's taking something, even if it's weed, we have to keep an eye on him, before it gets too much, or it sabotages something, okay??”

The next day rolled around, so did rehearsals. Luckily they had moved to a new hotel that acquainted them with a home theatre making travel far less complicated.

“Hello?”
“Hey Mal, It's Mike again, Listen I know you guys might be busy but can I talk to Paul?!”, a nervous lump in his throat.
“Well Mike they're about to-”
“Its important”
“Mike can it wait till after the show?”
“Listen, I told him I’d call if anything changes, He’ll kill me if I don't tell him now”
Mal hesitated.
“Ehhhhh……okay. Okay but ya gotta be quick, these guys are due on stage in ten”
“Thanks”

Mike tried to see a way where this news wasn't going to bother Paul, but he was almost certain that either way Paul would likely freak out. He could've waited, but if they got on with the show, then perhaps they'd be having drinks somewhere, and then by the time they settled down it would be far too long to wait; besides, he promised.

“What..? I ..Don’t understand”
“Paul, you need to come see him. I don't know-.. God this isn’t easy Paul-” Mike choked a little.
“Paul, it's progressed, there's not much they can do…”
“Is there no medicine they can give him?! There's gotta be something!”
Beads of sweat had broken across his forehead. Suddenly his suit was too tight and the drugs had completely gone, Mike's words had sobered him up completely.

“Mike! You said you'd look after him! Mike … what …”
“Paul. You just have to get here, soon okay. Who knows, maybe you being here will help. Just, I know you're busy, but…. Find away’
“Bloody hell Mikey, why now?”
“Paul, listen, I had to tell you, he's bad, really bad, I couldn't keep that from you”
“I know, I know Mike.”
“I uh… god.. “. Paul couldn't breathe, was his father really dying, seriously? He started to cry slowly, concealing himself in the corner of the phone booth.

“Hey Paul, you're on stage in five, the others are getting ready to head over, wrap it up yea”, called out one of the stage managers.
Paul gave a dirty look, caught up in shock and confusion.

“Mike?”
“Yea”.
“I…I gotta go. I gotta go”.
“Wait Paul, you'll be here soon yea, we all need you”

Paul couldn't respond. He didn't want to accept reality. Sound turned high pitched and off putting. The room felt small, and suddenly everything didn’t matter, he had no place to be.

Frozen he walked away, the phone dangling by the line
“Paul?” the voice faded from the receiver.

“Ey, common on, you’re on in a minute, get over there”.

Paul looked up slowly from the distance he was fixated on. A tear rolled down his face, catching the manager off guard.

“You alright mate?” giving an almost judgmental question.

Paul snapped back to his defense. Angered by everything life had brought him. Why did he have to deal with so much dread from fate, then be expected to be told by rude snobs, where to be and how to act every second of his bloody life.

He was about to start up, until John and Brian rounded the corner in an almost frantic state.

*
“Hey Mal, where's Paul?!” Brian walked over quickly.
“Had a phone call, Mike insisted he needed to talk to him”.
“Couldn’t he wait until after the show?”.
“He said it was important, but didn't say what though”.

“Well there on any minute now, we need them all to be here
“I’m sure he'll be back any second”.
“ Where's the phone booth then?”.
“What?”.
“I’ll go get him”.
“I’ll go with you Brian, it'll be easier kicking his ass if we out number him”.
Brian had no time or patience to linger on whether that was a joke or intentional, so he didn't argue and stormed his way through backstage.
*

“Paul! It's time to go you’re-” Brian stopped after processing the scene.

Every. Time. He needed peace, he got swarmed.
“FUCK OFF”.

Paul turned on his heel and walked fast down the hallway, out the exit that followed its way to the main hotel of the building. Picking up speed as the anger grew stronger he was practically running. He couldn't think straight, the only thing he wanted was an immediate release.

But John followed.

When he turned the corner, he wanted to drag Paul's ass back towards the stage asap, until Paul's expression completely stumped his momentum.

That wasn't good. No part of this was good at all, he was so focused on Paul he hadn't heard a thing that was said until Paul yelled and turned away.

He had to stay with him this time. It was clear it was getting all out of hand. If there was a time or place, it wasn't surely now, but John figured he'd finally say his piece; thinking enough was enough, something had to be said.

Paul keys opened the door so fast he stormed through it leaving it to fling open.
Straight through the suite he reached his room, rummaging through his belongings; as he never took the drugs with him while he went on stage (too risky in case someone got a hold of him and grabbed the wrong thing).

Shaky fingers he peeled open the bag, pouring some out onto his hand, then preparing to take it, a force hit his hand causing it to disperse.

“THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”.

Paul had been too focused on getting the drug in his system; he hadn't heard John's footsteps follow him.

Leaving Brian, assuring him he'd take care of the matter, Brian was now left to deal with a late or perhaps ‘not happening’ performance. Which was going to be hell, telling thousands of screaming fans they would be getting nothing but an empty stage and refunded ticket; whilst dealing with severely upset managers and producers.

“Aghh fuck it” annoyed at the interruption.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING PAUL?!!”.
“The hell you do that for?”.
“Are you fucking serious?!!”.
“Are you fucking serious?. Why’d you follow, fuck off!”.
“The fucks going on with you.??! What's with the drugs and all the bloody ….THIS??!!”.
“It told you to fuck off, and considering thats all YOU'VE BEEN DOING I THINK YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO LISTEN RATHER FUCKING WELL!”.

John stood back threatened, "I'VE BEEN THE ONE AVOIDING EVERYONE?? HAVE YOU FUCKING SEEN YOURSELF?!”.

“OH YEAH. That's it, turn it away from yourself like you always do!!”.

“Turn it awa- The hell are you talking about!!? YOU'VE BEEN THE DOPEY FUCK WHOS KEPT HIMSELF HIDING AWAY, GETTING TREATED LIKE THE PRINCESS HIS IS. THINK OF THE BAND EVERY ONCE AND A WHILE!
IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE WHY FUCKING BOTHER IM SICK OF EVERYONE RUNNING AROUND FOR YOU AND YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE”.

“I DO WANT TO BE HERE! I'M APART OF THIS BAND JUST AS MUCH AS ANY OF YOU! AND I NEVER SAID ANYONE NEEDED TO FUCKING BABY ME. IM DEALING WITH SHIT ALL FINE BY MYSELF”.

“FINE! FINE?! YOU CALL SNIFFING HEROIN FINE?!".

“WHATS IT WITH YOU? YOU COULDN’T GIVE A SHIT! DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON’T FUCKING WALK AWAY FROM ME LIKE IM A FUCKING FLEA YOU CANT GET RID OF.
IVE SEEN YOU JOHN. YOU HATE ME. JUST LIKE ALL THE REST DO. SO WHAT IF I USE A FEW DRUGS, AT LEAST I CAN FIX MYSELF UP AND MOVE ON”.

“PAUL YOU’RE RUINING YOURSELF! YOU CAN’T BE PULLING DUMB SHIT LIKE THIS, YOU’LL RUIN THE BAND”.

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT!”.
“WELL SURELY SEEMS LIKE YOU FUCKING DON’T”.

“JOHN SOMETIMES THERE'S MORE IMPORTANT THINGS IN MY LIFE THAN SINGING LIKE A MONKEY, ESPECIALLY FOR SNOBBS WHO CARE MORE ABOUT THE MONEY THAN WHAT WE WANT AS MUSICIANS”.

“WELL WE ALL KNEW THAT IT WAS PART OF THE JOB WHEN WE AGREE TO GET SIGNED. BESIDES PAUL LOOK WHAT YOUR DOING TO YOURSELF PLEASE YOU CAN'T DO THAT STUFF AND I DON'T HATE YOU BUT YOUR DRIVING ME MENTAL”.

“I'M DRIVING YOU MENTAL?”.

“YOU SAY YOU WANT TO TALK THEN YOU SHUT DOWN. YOU SAY YOU CAN’T HANDLE A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE WHO WANTED IT, BECAUSE IT WAS TO HARD BEING QUEER AND INSTEAD WENT AND FUCKING CHEATED WITH ANOTHER FUCKING MAN. I'M NOT THE CRAZY ONE HERE PAUL!”.

“Cheated? CHEATED?! YOU THINK I FUCKING CHEATED? I…I'M NOT EVEN WITH YOU LET ALONE-”.
“I SAW THE BITE MARK PAUL!!”.
“THE FUCKS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN WHAT DO YOU THINK-”.
“IT MEANS YOU SLEPT WITH ANOTHER MAN!”.
“I FUCKING DID NOT!”.
“YEA YOU FUCKING DID. HOW ELSE WOULD THAT GET THERE?”.

Crying and frustrated with John's mean stupidity, Paul tried not to let it happen, gritting his teeth hard, trying not to let the words slip out but it was too late.

“WELL SEE? YOU AREN'T GOING TO DENY IT CAUSE-”.

“ I WAS FUCKING RAPED JOHN!”.

It was the first time those words let alone thoughts had really come forth.
Paul's knees almost gave in, voice breaking from the harsh truth. Hardly able to see with the amount of tears in his eyes.

John remained silent. The air was so tense, had he heard that right?

Paul cried, his heart broke, he almost couldn't go on. Why was John really accusing him of cheating, after everything he went through, he hadn't wanted it at all.

John felt sick. Grief drawn on his face, and a loss for words “wh..what?”.

Chapter Text

It was only then had John stopped to notice the elephant in the room.
His frustrated anger slowly returned to sadness.
His hands were balled up in fists, Paul's words sinking further in.

Mouth open he stuttered to form a response.

Paul had said his piece, what more was there to say? He looked at John, in fear of being pushed away further, thinking John would seem disgusted. But also he froze within himself, he had told him, really said it out loud. The statement lingered rough in the air. Was it too late? Had he doomed himself?

Looking for an answer John remained frozen, until he finally realized that Paul was now disheveled, tearing up. He was genuinely so hurt that it broke something inside John, pulling him back to reality and out of his mental block he'd had against Paul for so long.

Suddenly what he was arguing didn't matter anymore.
Both looking in each other's eyes for the first time in so long, and so vulnerably, John couldn't help himself but to get to Paul immediately. Taking careful steps closer to Paul, still unsure how to handle the matter, "... Paul?", he said softly, a lump in his throat. He couldn't understand it, he didn't want to believe that someone had really done this to Paul. His Paul.

Paul felt untouchable, so uncertain in the moment, but he didn't stop John from getting closer, despite being afraid.

“Paul…I.. Im sorry”, John found himself breaking down. Reaching out to touch Paul's arm, he couldn't find anything else to say. “Im so sorry Paul”, when he found Paul didn't move away this time he moved forward to hold Paul, finally.

Paul had felt John accept him, it felt so nice to fall into his arms, something he craved for so long. But at this moment it flooded back to him. He sobbed and sobbed, but he didn't feel soft anymore. He felt John stay with him this time. He didn't walk away, didn't argue or comment. He knew John wasn't there to judge, that's all he needed.

Heart broken and angry John didn't let go, he never wanted to let go ever again. All he wanted to do was look after Paul, and because he'd been such a stubborn prick, Paul had gotten hurt, and he had gone without knowing for so long.
This whole time he thought so wrong about Paul, he felt revolted by himself.

But then again? For how long..? He knew it wasn't the right time to pry, but he needed to know, how, who, when? It was a new rage building inside him. Subconsciously his grip grew tighter around Paul.
Paul looked up at John, meeting his eyes. He could see the questions lingering inside, but he didn't want to mention anymore just yet.

After a moment, Paul calmed down, and so did John. John guided Paul down onto the edge of the bed.
“Why, why didn’t you tell me?”he asked softly, concern written all over John's face.
Rubbing circles on Paul's back, he remained close for comfort.

Paul couldn't look at John anymore, “I was afraid”.
“I didn't want to accept it. ..And I tried convincing myself it didn't happen”.

“What..why were you afraid? Who did this? Who did this to you Paul? When…?”

“John”. he sighed, trying to think through a thick cloud.
“Sorry, I..”

“It wasn't easy… and everything at the time was too much. The more I tried moving on the more I felt punished by everything and everyone else in my life”

It didn't answer his questions but he kept listening patiently.

“I was afraid, because… I felt like I would be blamed, that it would be my fault… fuck maybe it was-” he shook his head in dispear.
“Paul It wasn't your fault”.
“But you don't know that”.
“So tell me… tell me what happened, I want to help you Paul, I’m here, I'm here now”.

What would John really think if he told him everything? He didn't know if John would understand once he knew the truth. Would he even want to stick around if he thought it really was Paul's fault? Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. He couldn't tell him who, that was dangerous in all situations”.

Paul really didn't know how (or more so didn't want to) to get into it, he hesitated for a while.

“How did it even happen, you are usually with us all the time aren't you?”

Paul knew John didn't mean anything by it but it felt like it was indicating that the possibility of it happening was denyable.

“Yes, usually, all the time now. But I was..alone.. one night John”. He looked at him cautiously, then back to the floor anxiously; stomach turning in knots.
“When we went out to celebrate, not long after the night we…”

“Back in Rome?”.

“Yep”.
Paul paused for a moment before continuing

“I had tried walking back to the hotel, I should've taken a taxi but…
But I was so angry…and so I thought I could, I don't know, walk it off. But I-. I had drunk so much I got lost. I’m a fucking idiot John, I should’ve known better-”.

John gritted his teeth so hard he could've chewed through metal. Hearing Paul describe such a horrible thing and then blame himself; John thought he should've prevented it, it was disheartening. “No, No don’t blame yourself Paul, you couldn't have known, I..I’m sorry for not being there for you, If anything I’m the one to blame”.

John understood well enough that Paul was mad at him, he felt like he had caused this to happen if only he had stayed to talk.

“..How? Why would it be your fault?”
“Because I drove you away Paul, I should've been with you, I should've talked to you but instead I was being a cunt. I let you down Paul, I'm sorry”. He broke into tears again.

“No Johnny, No it's not your fault. None of what happened that night was because of you, I would never blame you for it”.
Paul held John tightly, knowing John was always quick to blame himself. Life hadn't always been kind to him either, but this time it definitely wasn't his fault.

Once John had stopped crying Paul continued at his request; he was halfway there and he didn't exactly have plans to bring this up every again if he didn't have to.

“Who did this to you then?! I'll kill the bastard I fucking swear I will-!”
“Johnny, I… I don't know. I… cant, I cant tell you”.
“Wha..? what you, why can’t you tell me”.
“Because Johnny”, he grew tense.
“Paul, no-one can hurt you, ever again, I'm not letting anyone near you that you don't want”.
“You don't understand John-”
“ What is there not to understand”.
“Because…”
“Well..?” He tried saying it as softly as he could, but he needed answers. He needed to find this person for good; this wasn't something he was going to let go ever.
“Because John, if they know I told you, or anybody else, they’ll come back!
Or theyll tell somebody like the police or the news, then it’ll be over for me and all of you and I dont want to ruin your lives because I cant handle my fucking alcohol”. The panic rose through his chest, and he finally let out the uncomfortable truth.
With a shaky breath, he held back the name that was on the edge of his tongue. What war would he start if it had come out.

“This whole time, I didn't know, I was just thinking it was…plain arrogance..between us. Listen Paul, I really am sorry” voice quivering with guilt.

“Did you.. Did you mean all those things that you said before”.
“No Paulie, you know I didn’t”, he rushed to say.

There it was again. That name. But it sounded different, much different coming from John. Thank goodness.

“Then you know I forgive you already”.

John didn't reply, he didn't feel he was even in the right to be able to say thank you. Instead he looked down, and then slowly up to Paul, who fell numb against his shoulder.

“Paul?”
“Yes John?”.

“Ill do anything for you. I'll work through anything… I can't have anything happen to you ever again, I won't let it. You know that right?”

“Thanks Johnny” he grew tired, but wasn't sure where their stature was just yet.

“Paul?”

He looked at John this time, what was he getting at?

“Paul… I want to be here for you, you know, if you want me to, do you want me to, I…I just don't want to cause you any more grief than you need”.

Paul still couldn't tell if John's words were indicating a protective friendship or a protected relationship, he guessed it was up to him. So he thought. Was now even the time for anything as such? Perhaps not, but he really needed John. So bad, that if John was willing to be there for him whatsoever it was maybe the very thing he needed to get better.

Paul looked deep into John's eyes, tears stained his cheeks. “Johnny. I need you. More than anything. Will you stay this time, please?", he felt shy to admit, but he guessed that could be enough to tell him so”.

Carefully taking his words in he knew what Paul meant. It meant he wanted him, needed him, and just to be there. All John had wanted was to feel needed, and so he was.

He held Paul close, kissing the top of his mop top holding back even more tears.
Perhaps Paul would tell him more later on, but right now he could let it go, just for a little moment of peace. Everything had fallen into place. The only thing now was to make sure Paul was okay.

*
Meanwhile Brian had been running around mad, dealing with the backlash of a last minute cancelled performance, not even bothering to find where the two had run off to. He was going to give them a stern lecture about the improper behaviour, until that was until he had met with John a little while later and could immediately sense, it was not the appropriate time to do so.
*

Both boys grew quite tired. The arguing and emotional damage done to both parties was enough to send both into a deep slumber.
Neither willing to even address the mess left behind, John helped Paul get to bed comfortably.
He made sure the apartment was closed, phoning Brian shortly telling him they were calling it in for the night; it was already assumed so. Ending the call as he had finished saying his piece before Brian could have his two cents worth.

He left a note on the table for George and Ringo to see as they entered later that evening. They boys had been sleeping in arrangements of two per bed (double beds), and as for the tension beforehand, George was the one sharing with Paul.

John followed suit into the bed. Holding Paul close to him. He felt his undying love for Paul come back, and it was so good to be able to let it show. However, he surely wished it had been under better circumstances.

Paul finally slept peacefully that night. Nothing in his dreams scared him anymore, knowing John was right beside him.
Surely enough, there were problems to face in the morning, but neither thought about it longer than a second.

Chapter Text

Brian watched as John followed suit quickly, he knew Paul wasn't going to be back, and probably neither John. He attended to matters sooner rather than later. With thousands of screaming fans the task wasn't easy but he managed to tell those running the show that it was going to have to be called off, avoiding any rapid arguments. But per usual, George and Ringo were not happy with the mess that John and Paul often got away with, bickering about the entire catastrophe; though they had not heard what was said, or seen at the end of Paul's phone call. George and Ringo, once left in the dust, returned to Mal and Neil, who didn't have the slightest clue what was happening either.

“Boys, I’m so sorry I've kept you waiting-”
“It's been forty-five minutes Brian, what on earth is happening?!”
“Yea are we on or not? Where's the other two?”
“I'm calling the show off. There has been an incident which has required Paul to not be able to perform tonight, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. At least on the bright side there's not too far to travel back to the suite”.

“Well then if that's the case I'm grabbing a drink from the bar first, Ringo?”

“Yea I'll join. But Bri, what happened to John, where'd he run off to?”
“With Paul I suppose”, George added stroppily.

“Well, he went to help Paul with the matters, it seems as if the phone call received earlier has deeply upset him. I recommend seeing to it in the morning, but for now I'd give Paul the space. I'm sorry I can’t tell you more, I’m just as in the dark about this as you all are”.

“Well then, well let the two queens settle and well go blow off some steam on a couple of cocktails or something”.
“Suit yourself George, I’m grabbing a cold one”.

“Well as long as you two don't spend too long here, and are responsible, then I don't see the harm in that. However, I would rather have an early night, so Mal? Neil? Which one of you can stay?”.
“They don't have to baby sit us, we'll be fine Brian”.
“I’m not leaving you two unsupervised, it's not you I don't trust, it's everyone else”.

“I can stay, wouldn't mind a drink me self”.
“Thanks Mal, I’d rather an earlier night too, mind you”.

“Well then, see you two in the morning then, me and Neil are going to head up”.

“Night Brian”.

Later that night, George and Ringo finally returned to their suite, whilst Mal trotted off.
Ringo caught sight of John's note, however hard to read; whether it was John's horrible hand writing or the few beers he'd had.
They found themselves in their room, figuring the other two were asleep by the silence.

“What d’ya think happened?”.
“No clue, but they better have a bloody good excuse. Just because they are Lennon/McCartney, doesn't mean they can act like the high priestess”.
“I’m sure they don't intentionally cause this much trouble, George”.
“Yeah well, it's not fair on us. Or Mal, Or Brian, or Neil, or the fans that PAY and come and see us. I just think they're caught up in their own little world together and forget we exist sometimes”.
“Oh George, it's not all bad, and I'm sure it can't carry on much longer. After all we have talked to him about it”.
“And what has that done but made him even..weirder?”.
“Well he hasn't been disappearing as much”.
“Yeah but he’s not all… there still is he? Now we have John running off too, I swear if we have to deal with another week's worth of bitchy behaviour from them because they can’t deal with their shit, I'm gonna lose it myself”.
“Well whatever it is it can't be too bad right. I mean they're sharing the room, they must be on good terms or something.”
“...yeah, suppose you're right, Rings”.
“See, it'll be fine. We’ll see what all this was about tomorrow, for now, get some rest yea”.
“Sure. But hey, if you wack me in your sleep again, I'll push you off”.
“Haha, I will try my best not to, as long as you promise to not cuddle me during the night, we're fine”.
George grew red, “You know I can't help that!”
“Well, then I can’t promise I wont wack you”.

George huffed and rolled over whilst Ringo turned off the light.

The next morning when John and Paul awoke, there were still plenty of issues to deal with. The two spent almost the entire morning in bed, after being told by Mal (who had gone to half -wake, and half inform the four boys), that Brian had no plans for the day to resolve matters from the previous evening.

John and Paul fell back asleep after the first wake up call for a few more hours. The next time they woke, they began talking again.
“Morning”.
“..Morning”
“How are you feeling?” John asked as Paul faced him, still close to his chest.
“Mmm”.
“We don't have to go anywhere today. You can just stay in bed alright. And don’t worry about Brian I’ll deal with him yea”.
“Okay”.

“But hey. I know it's a lot right now, but there..are still things we have to talk about, and I'll work through it with you okay?”.

“But I’m going to grab us some breakfast for now, you feel like toast?”
“Yes thanks, and a tea please John?”
“Well that's a give in”.

When John left Paul got up to use the bathroom, he looked himself up and down in the mirror, he looked a depressed mess. Then that devilish voice spoke to him again. The bag that was still in his suitcase. No. He couldn't. He shouldn't. It had to stop now. Things were serious. But, he felt like shit, maybe just a quick bump while John was gone, was that too much? Frozen amongst a predicament, John had come back through “Forgot to ask what you wanted on your toa-, Paul?”.
“Yea” he called from the bathroom, caught by surprise.
“Oh. I was just wondering what you wanted on your toast”.
“Just jam thanks”.
“Yea but what kind”.
“Oh er, strawberry thanks”.

Close call. If that wasn't a wake up call then he was just being arrogant. Two seconds later, John may have found him deep diving into that ‘shit’ again. He knew better not to touch the stuff, so he climbed back into the bed, despite that itch gradually getting stronger.

They both ate breakfast, waking up properly, enough to focus back on the important topics lingering about.

“So”
“So..”
“We need to talk about a few things, and honestly.. I don't know where to begin”.
“We don't have to..”.
“Paul, you know better than to pretend that issues disappear magically on their own. Now common on, work with me here, please”.

“Whats with the..the-”
“Heroin? Weed?”
“Yea... All the using?” John hesitated, how serious had it really been..?
“Like I said, it was hard, I'm not in the headspace to be judged for that right now”.
“I have no need to judge you Paul. I, I just want to know, so we configure it out together ”.
“...Alright”.
“Let's go through all of it step by step okay? You said, there were other things, things that were making your life hard. What else was it that you were going through..that led you to this?”.
“Well. … I had just let my guard down to you and you kept shutting me out so I felt like I had not only lost my best friend, but someone I loved..”.

“I felt like I had really fucked it. I couldn't talk to anyone about it either, because of course that was part of the issue. It really took a toll on me. Hhhh, Then of course, all that happened, and I felt even more untouchable, revolting, disgusting. It drove me nuts. I felt like… they..were out there. Looking at me, everyone looking at me all the time. God I just didnt want to be me anymore John.. I just wanted to be James…

Just someone nobody knew, to be able to peel off this skin and leave the rest behind. The drugs helped me in that way. It took me out of the moment, took away those thoughts. Because slowly things were getting worse. I thought I could handle the pretending for a little while, like everyone was just having a bad day, but you, and Brian, and all the rest just seemed to push further away from me, I felt like I had no reason to be here, I still don’t-”,

At this point John went to argue this statement, but Paul continued at the pace he was going.

“I was trapped in a cage, and it only grew smaller when I found out things back home, -where I had hoped I could return to one day and it would be some sort of safe place away from all this fucking mess, that that was falling apart too!”

He took a long breath, “Everything made me feel like a fucking waste of space. And there were times I’d catch myself short. That's why I kept disappearing”.
“What do you mean short?”.
“I was having panic attacks John”.

He grimaced
“I didn't know what was happening or how to deal with it so I hid myself away. But then you all began questioning it. Thinking I was acting out, I had to find a way to deal with my issues on a surface level and still function, almost properly. And so I resorted to different relaxants. I found that some worked well, and others worked better together. But John, I need you to understand something quickly”.

“Yea?”.
“Im…I.. I'm not going to be able to just stop. Not easily, even if you're going to beg me to. I already feel the need”.

“It's… okay Paul. I know it's not going to be easy, I’m here to help. But, we're going to have to do what's right, even if it's uncomfortable, you know that right?” He held him close as they laid together shoulder to shoulder.

“I know John, but I don't want to go to one of those crazy hospitals. Please! Don't make me go there!”.
“Shh it's okay, it's okay. You're not going to go there, I promise”.
It was the first time John had seen Paul fully go from settled to panicked quite quickly, something he was scarcely aware he was going to have to face.

“Paul, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. But we are going to have to deal with the slow withdrawals. And I'm no doctor, so maybe we call someone about this, depending how you want to go about it”.
“I don't want Brian or the others knowing! Or anyone else! The press could destroy us”.

“I’m not going to let that happen alright. But, well we need to get professional help either way”.
“But Paul, can I say something?”
He looked, saddened once more, for John to continue
“Paul, love, look at me when I say this. You are not a waste of space, and you’ll never be. Not a single one of us hates you, or thinks you're crazy. We're losing ourselves, worried sick about you, that's what all that is about.
You're a bigger part of this team than you realise. Now I know I'm a selfish prick sometimes, and I'm not letting it get in the way ever again, but you are the heart of this. When you walk in the room, everyone turns to see you. You're the most interesting person there, and all everyone wants to do is admire you. Hell, I get jealous of you sometimes, but I knew what I was getting myself into when I saw you that day in the fate”.
“John, you're getting ahead of yourself here”.
“I didn't say I was finished either!”
“Paul, I really am sorry that all this has happened. And I will never accept your forgiveness because I can't believe I made you feel that way.-”

Paul's mouth opened, but he wasn't fast enough to interrupt.

“- I promise that I'll never let my arrogance get the better of me again. You didn't deserve any of this, none of it was your fault. Not a single second of it. And I'm so sick of the world treating you like you're just the punching bag for everyone's troubles to go to. If you tell me who did this to you Paul, I swear on my mothers grave they'll never breathe near you again, never talk, or even think of your name”.

“Johnny, that's what I worried about. I know you want to find this guy, becau-”
“Cause what?”
“You’ll go mental”
“Whys that?”
“I can't tell you why”
“Paul”
“Because, it..it'll be hard. And then you'll freak, and I know you John, I know you'll let anger override you and the next thing you know you'll be in prison for murder”
“Paul I might be a hothead, but I’m no idiot”.
“Its not the point, there's too much to risk..with everything, and no way in hell will you get away with it, so there's no serious way you’ll consider it”
“Paul, you can't let them get away with it, I won't let them get away with it”
“John”
“Please Paul, I need to know, You said you didn't know, but you clearly do, if we know this person we can put them away, for good!”
“John, you really don't understand what that information will do to you”.
“What's that supposed to mean Paul, Why would it affect me? If theyre- FUCK DO I KNOW THEM??? PAUL I SWEAR-.”
He stopped himself, he wasn't arguing his case for not overreacting
“Paul”, he had a wild pleading look in his eyes, one Paul could tell he was falling into pieces every second he didn't know.
God damn it he wished he wasn't so easy to push over; it was like John was pulling the words out of his mouth.

*
At this point the raise of voices could be heard on the other side of the wall, George giving Ringo a very puzzling look.
“I hope they're working it out, you said they were on good terms last night…” George said displeased.
“I'm not a friendship Guru George, but with the way those two have been at it lately, it doesn't surprise me their situation changes every bloody hour”....
*

“John, please, you need to calm down”
“Yea, you’re right, I’m good, I’m good”
“John if I tell you…”, “You’re..”
“Paul. I'm ready to know”
“I hardly believe you're ready to handle it”.

“I will, I swear I will”
“John, I don't mean it like that. I'm serious. I can't have you getting into trouble or going to jail. Christ John, I need you here, with me! You know that right?!”.
“Yes, I know”.
“Having you know, isn't going to change what happened, you need to be mature about it”.

“I can be,.. reasonable about it”, at this point John was on the edge of his bloody seat, he didn't know whether he was going to be crying, yelling, or pulling his hair out in the next two seconds but the suspense was killing him.

Paul had boundaries, and not only did John have a reputation of hop scotching across them, but in an old fashion he was really pushing Paul's buttons now. However, this was classic John, someone who was resilient, sometimes in the most annoying way possible. Paul knew he wouldn't give up until eventually he pried the words from him…

“John, it's not easy for me to tell you about it. I.. really …really can’t have you telling anyone, ever”.
“Paul, you have the right to strangle me if I ever told a soul”.
“Why are you so violent Johnny”, he gave a half laugh, half disappointed sigh.
“Because I have lots of love and nowhere to put it, sorry I care so much about you” he cheekily replied.

But in all seriousness, the answer to John's question was still there, ready to be ignited into the thick fog of sudden doom that lingered in between them.

There was a silence, uncomfortable for John whose tension was so high he almost believed he was going to pass out from holding his breath. But for Paul he was wondering how to even speak of the name.

“God John, fine. Fine”
“Who Paul..?”
“It was… It was fucking Mark okay”...

*
George and Ringo had continued eating breakfast paying no mind to the rest of the chitchatter through the wall until-

“Hey Rings, can you pass the butter-”. “FUCKING WHAT!”.

“Jesus Christ!"
Both George and Ringo's heads turned immediately to the sound.
Unsure of what to do in this situation.
“Hey, what's going on in there?!!” shouted Ringo in concern.

“Nothing, everything's fine!”, they managed to hear from a very muffled Paul.
*

“Nothing's fine! What the fuck, What the FUCK!”.
“John sit down! You said you'd be reasonable”.
“This is reasonable! You're lucky I’m not out there slitting the cunts' throat right now!!”John was furiously pacing the room, hands on his head.

Paul grew silent, he didn't want to or feel the need to pester anymore. John was in his own thoughts, so he waited till he was back again.

John stood center, unsure of what to do in the situation as every emotion was pulling him every which way. Unable to speak or calm his breathing, it took all his will power to try to prove he could settle.

After a few minutes, Paul grew nervous, the tense silence was as if he had landed directly in the middle of a landmine, unsure where to step next.

“John..?”.

“John”.

“Will you sit down please”.

John, knuckles white still not facing Paul, hands around his head, gritted his teeth. How could he respond?

“John-”

“I can't believe it! I cant fucking believe it!”
Forcefully holding his mouth, the words he wanted to describe would only upset Paul further, so he held his tongue.

“Why didn’t you say something…Why didn't you tell me Paulie…?!”
John was defeated once more by the whole situation. He came and sat down next to Paul, still eyes focused in front of him.

Paul couldn't find another reason other than he was scared.
“Please don't be mad"
“I’m not mad Paul. I'm not mad. I…He was just..there! The whole time! We fucking, were buddy buddy for fucks sake! God da-”

“I know John, but neither of us could've predicted what was gonna happen that night”.

“But why? Why did he hurt you? What was he fucking thinking” he grabbed Pauls hand, thumbing over it gently. “ I knew you two didn't get on the best of terms but god Paul I wouldn’t of had him there if I knew he was gonna-”

“I know you wouldn't have John, and like you I had no idea what he really thought. I assumed that he'd be over all the stuff from school and outgrown it, but s’pose not”.

“Did you two argue, how'd he, why would he?”

“John, he tried helping me at first, or at least he pretended. But after a little I forget how things happened until.. Suddenly I…was on the bed in the hotel room”. He grew silent as the last few words came out.
“I remember being in a hazy state, not really being able to see clearly, but I could hear him..sort of raging on about all the things we had done, or at least the grief I had caused him-”

“As if that gives him any fucking right to lay a hand on you!” John spat out, restraining himself as much as he could.

“He is not well John. Fucked in the head. Like he was pretending to be some god who decided what could be done about it all. I remember him yelling, figuring he could have the chance to finally get back at me. He was angry and knew I had fucked myself over, so badly I couldn’t fight back…John, if I hadn’t drunken myself to my own fate! I could’ve prevented it all, John I’m a fucking idiot!”. Paul's voice cracked as tears began swelling in his eyes and tension rose in his throat again.

“And then… he.. I just remember staring out-” he wiped the tears away as they rolled down his cheek. “-trying to get away, but he forced himself over me…” he began to sob, feeling like he deserved to be ridiculed. “I tried John. I really did. He’s ruined me! All because I was a bastard and he couldn’t take a fucking joke!!”.

John sat there and listened to every word spoken, letting Paul lean against him. Despite Paul desperately wanting John to not act out, John had already made a decision. But for now he had to make sure Paul was okay, and fix the issues with him.
“Paul” he said softly, as Paul continued to cry into his shoulder.
“Love, you're not ruined. What happened doesn't make you any less of yourself”. John lifted his chin towards him, swiping away the tracks of tears carefully with his thumb.
“Paul, you are still the man you were, and will always be. Do not, Don’t ever- blame yourself for his actions. You did not ask for that. Don't ever believe you did”. John looked into Paul's broken eyes, knowing that the words were being heard but not listened to, it was heart breaking.

“Paul, you are not defined by this. Don’t let a disgusting fuck up like Mark get the better of you. You're the strongest man I know. There's only hell to pay for what he did; If karma knows any better, it'll come for him”.

Paul let the silence even out, before he continued through his self pity.

“But you think I’m a fool for using though, don't you?”
“Why would I think that, I never said I did”.

“But if I keep using it you will”
“Thats why we have to work on it. I will not judge you Paul, but it doesn’t mean I'll support the things I don't believe are good for you. And in this case, if it means you need to stop using, then I'm going to help you if you give me a chance”.
“Okay”
“Is it just weed and heroin? Or is there something else I should be aware of?”
“No. Just that.”
“Okay, well weed isn't as bad, so that's not too worrying. But you'll need to come off of it yea?”. “Do you have any more on you, is it just the bag on the table?”
Paul held his hands nervously "There's more in my bag”. He walked over, grabbed every bag and container he owned, along with the supplies, and put them all on the night desk. John walked over to him, surprised with how he had gotten this far and not noticed Paul's supply and use; surely someone with this much of an addiction would have presented it a bit more.

“Are you going to make me go cold turkey?”
“I know it's the most violent way to withdraw you and I have no desperate need to see you uncomfortable, but I won't let you touch the stuff again”.

“I know you care, John. But I'm an adult still, I still need to make my own decisions".

“Paul, I just want you back, love. You and I both know what's best for you. Remember, I'm just trying to help. I saw how much it destroyed you, and I wished I had picked up on it sooner or better yet fucking helped, so thats what I’ll do now”.

It was concerning, dealing with an addict, and then once more getting between an addict and their drugs. But it was going to be done. John wasn't going to back down from this fight.

Paul let John continue. Finally an argument the stubborn git was going to let go.
John took the product from the table “Come”. They walked to the bathroom, Paul watching curiously from behind. Shaking the remainders down the toilet he let Paul watch spiral its way down and into the sewers.
“All gone. Now, don't be buying that shit ever again, you feel that way or get the need, talk to me, okay?”
“But John, you don't get it-”
“I know I can't tell you how to feel, but I can tell you that you're not alone. So use the life line I'm giving you”
“John, sometimes talking isn't going to fix the need. You understand that right?”
“I’m no expert in substance abuse Paul, but digging yourself out of your hole is better than simmering in your own shit at rock bottom. Every baby step is another step to being normal again, that's what you want isn't it?”

Paul huffed and looked towards the toilet bowl again, “yea”.

“Good. I'll be here to look after you. If you get tired or upset, just tell me. We'll work around each other like we always do”.
“Okay, but, if it gets bad, you'll let me smoke a little, yea?”.
“Maybe for a little while, but eventually you'll need to come off it too”.
“Well, not fully right?” John gave a serious look. “It ain't that bad, common, you've tried it yourself, every once in a while wouldn't be so bad”.

He was annoyed that Paul's stubbornness was trying to override, however, there was a point John could see in his argument; it wasn't too bad after all..
“Alright, but I won't have you depending on it!”
“It’s strange seeing you become so serious, if 16 year old John could see you know, he had squared up on you ages ago”.
“Well, I.. still like fun…Just I still want my friends, is all. We've both seen how badly things can change when fun can get taken too far; there's always a line at some point”.

They walked back into the room, John took the equipment used for the stuff, and wrapped it in toilet paper. He wrapped it in a shirt, where he could eventually throw it away when he got the chance, making sure it wasn't in easy reach for Paul to limit temptation.

“So what happens now? I just, wait for the withdrawals to kill me”
“We work on getting you back into a healthier state. Eating regularly, drinking water, you know, that kind of stuff”.
“Seems easy enough”.
“And then we talk to Brian, or at least I will. He needs to know, or there will be issues that are going to have precautions”.
“I can talk to him”.
"You sure you're up for that?"
"Its my responsibility, the truth should come from me. And that way I can be in control of what he gets told"
“Alright. You’ll have to do it soon, he wasn't too pleased that we left him in the dark yesterday”.

He gave a quick reassuring glance to Paul as he walked across the room.
“And I suppose I'll talk with the guys, tell them what they need to know and anything else, I leave up to you”.
“John?”
“Yea?”
“I hadn't thought about it much, but.. What will they think of me? For anything I've told you? I don't want to tell them if it means ruining everything”.
“You don't have to tell them everything, just enough that they understand you’re struggling and you just need their support. All they want is to help Paul, and be a part of your life, not just watching you from the sideline”.

“How about you shower yeah, get freshened up and I'll go talk to Brian, let him know you want to talk, sound okay?”
“Yea, I guess”.

John smiled, and left the room, still only dressed in his pyjamas.

Chapter Text

John was still deep in thought when he entered the kitchen, by passing the other two boys who had finally woken up.

“Morning John?”...

He snapped his head around
“Oh..mornin”

George sat there intently, waiting for a reply, “well..?”.
John's blank stare caught off guard still, meant George was going to have to spell it out.
“So what happened last night huh? Got an explanation or you expect us to just roll over and play dumb?”

“George…we didn't mean to-”
“No, both Richie and I are sick of being pushed aside by you two, explain yourselves. Running off last night was one hell of a stunt you two pulled and we want answers”.

“I..I'll give you an answer soon George. Really. I'm sorry you feel that way, I'm just still in the middle of something now George.”
“That something Paul? Whats.. happened with him?...
Brian said he got a phone call, is everything alright?”, urging with worry in his throat.

“George, you're gonna have to trust me this time. I'm not trying to make you feel like you're in the dark, but I’m trying to help Paul clear things up alright, just be patient, he needs time and space”.

George's fists were clenched with the annoyance behind John's words never really promising anything. Although it was strange that for once- John finally had concern in his eyes and not arrogance.

Fighting the urge to get a word out of John, George remained seated, holding his tongue back from fire.

…“You tell him were here for him yea, let us know if there's anything we can do”
“Thanks Rich”.

John grabbed an apple off of the table and exited the suite. He stepped out into the hallway, a few degrees colder, sending shivers down his spine, and clearing his thoughts.

He was going to talk to Brian, but he just didn't know how; where or what to begin with.
As he strolled down the hallway, he spotted the guards looking over, always watching like a hawk. It annoyed him suddenly. How could this all have happened? Were they not paying enough attention? How in the fuck did they not notice anything? It was something he'd mention to Brian later on.

*
Paul's chest immediately felt lighter. He had felt silly not telling John sooner, but it still wasn't easy, it just wasn't. He could share his burden but he felt like he had an even bigger target on his back. As long as John didn't say anything he knew he would be hidden from any rumor, accusation, or threat.
The truth hadn't solved all his issues. Every hour that passed was getting longer, even the steam from showering was starting to highlight the withdrawals.

Just holding on, hoping the next minute would get easier but it wasn't. Waiting and waiting, but for what exactly. His grace period of the morning was over. He needed a hit soon. Perhaps the heroin was gone but at least he still had cigarettes and pot. Some big change but it was something.
Fixing his tie he lit himself a cigarette. Lungs filled with a beautiful flow of nicotine. Lasting merely minutes, he had lit his second one before his shoes were even on.

Paul stood in front of the mirror. The clean look, suit, tie, clean shave, and freshly washed hair was all a part of his costume. Just for the public eye to look at and swoon over, but admittedly the pretend part was doing some good for feeling better.

Until he remembered how the night had really begun. How he had gone so long without thinking about it, he didn't know.
The phone call. His father, Mike. What was he doing? He needed to get home soon.
Once John was back he needed to talk with him. But also Brian, and the boys. Goddamn there was a lot of talking. Why couldn't silent treatment always work?

He looked at the time, it was past midday. Maybe he could fix himself something to eat and kill two birds with one stone knowing the others were probably out there too.

…
“Morning fellas..”

Both with surprised expressions, looked up to an approaching Paul, once again in a new facade, still however unable to create a proper judgment from the man; was he better, or worse- a constant enigma.

“Morning Paul, you doing okay?”
“You scared us last night mate, you can talk to us about it”

“Yea…yea I’m real sorry about that fellas…” he pulled out a chair and joined them at the table.

“Listen, I’ve just got a few things on my mind.. Da’s not well…
Uh actually he's not well- at all…
I've gotta go see him soon, that's part of the reason I was gone last night, I was uh dealing..with that when Mikey called just before the show, I just couldn't go on stage”.

“God mate, are you alright? Well I mean that's a stupid question, but..”
“Thanks Geo, All I need is for you guys to..just be patient, or just try to understand, I'm not trying to push you all away, I just haven’t been..well”

“Sure Paul, we’re here for you, you just tell us when to be here or when to leave you alone, just as long as you know we just want to help”

“You sure do seem tired though son, get some food in you, you need the energy, gotta look after yourself”, Ringo said with a soft smile.

Paul worked through some toast, not long before John walked back through.
*

*knock* *knock*
…
“Oh hello John, it's good to see you”
“We need to talk Brian”
“Yes, please, do come in”

“Are the others here, or just you”
“No no, Mal and Neil have gone to do some errands for me. Tell me John, what's been going on?”

“Well, from Paul's phone call last night, he's...very upset Brian. And there's a lot that has happened, for some time”.
“I gathered as much, how is he”

“He hasn't been well, struggling with his father….I'm in no position to tell you everything, but man to man, I need you to understand him and not to judge.
He's worried about what people might think, but all he needs is support”.

“Theres, more to this than his father isn't there”

John had sat down in the corner arm chair, elbows on his knees. He looked up to Brian guiltily.

“Youre not wrong, Brian. But, he wants to talk you, privately, he’ll tell you what he wants you to know, but please, we aren't trying to disappoint you, or make you run around mad, I really am sorry for yesterday”

Brian was still surprised that John had even come to talk with him, let alone make a genuine apology.
“Must be quite serious then son. Thank you John for coming forward. I care for you boys and would hate to see something break between you all, ‘ill reach out to him today if he's ready”

“Yeah… yea I think he wants to get it over and done with as soon as possible” he said rubbing his face.

“But please, don't be afraid to talk to me either. I know you all think I'm all distant because I’m your boss, but I'm also a friend, you know that”.

“Thank you Brian”

After a moment, John rubbed the back of his hand, and with nothing more to say he stood once again.

“Im also not sure what the plan is, but I feel we may have to pause the tour, just for a week or two. Its likely Paul wont be able to continue just yet”

Brian went to open his mouth, but preventing his natural control to tell him no, but John took over.

“I know. It isn't easy, but hopefully you'll know something of it soon enough and you'll realise why”.

Brian sighed, and gave John a sympathetic understanding nod, while John walked back out the door.

John was just a few feet down the hall,
“John?”, He stopped
“Whatever it is, whether it is at home or with him personally, take care of him. I know you care for him very much and that's what I think he needs most”.
“..Yea…I will”. Brian had retreated and shut the door, leaving a bewildered Lennon in the hall. Brian's words were a little close to home, did he know something? How much? Well, at least if anybody knew they had something going on, it was best if it was Brian.

…
John was pleased to see Paul speaking and eating. It had been awhile since the man he knew, someone who could talk your ear off for hours, smile to everyone, and wanted to be everywhere, come out of his room for longer than five minutes.

John moved slowly to the table and joined quietly not to cause too much attention to his distracted appearance.

“How’d it go?” Paul said softly.
“He’s ready whenever you are, told him to go easy”.

George and Ringo were still so confused by the missing context,but didn't question respectively.

He turned to John, then to the rest, “Fellas, I'm gonna say this now, but-” looking at John more specifically, "I'm gonna have to fly home for a few days. Mike was saying Da was in a bad state, very bad. I have to be there, I just have to.
I’m going to tell Brian, and I'll see what he says.
I don't know what will happen with the tour, whether you'll stay and delay the shows. Or we all go home, I don't know. But when I do go it'll either be tonight or first thing tomorrow”.

“God Paul, I'm so sorry mate. Take the time you need man, it's no worry for us, the job comes second” George managed, mouth slightly agape.

“Yeah Paul, do what you have to, go be with ya da. Do you want me to come with ya?”

“That's alright Rich, I think John will come with. Even with just us there I hope it doesn't cause too much attention from the media, with the four of us it would be a nightmare. Da just needs rest and peace”.

John was pleased that Paul wanted John to be with him, perhaps what Brian said was right on the nose.

“So if those are your plans for later Paul, I assume Brian has cancelled today's plans anyway?” George panned to John who was still just staring down at the table.

“Hmm?”
“Well, did Brian mention about us doing anything today?”

“No, he didn't, but I assume he would've told us- me if there was”.

“I think I'm going to go have that talk with him now” Paul had grabbed his plate and moved towards the kitchen bench. He gazed at the faucet pausing to take a breath before making his way to Brian's room.

“Okay, let us know if you need anything”
“Will do”.

The cogs had started turning, as each step felt like his feet were getting colder and colder.

…
“You mind if I light one?”

“No go ahead”.

“Paul. I just want to say that, whatever it is that's going on, I'm sure I will understand to the best of my abilities. Do not shy, to share anything”.

Paul's eyes narrowed, and he looked up to Brian empathetically as he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Well. The first thing I have to tell you is that I may leave tonight to go home. I can't really ask this time Brian, because I have to be home. You see, Mike rang me yesterday. Da’s sick and needs to have family there. I know it's bad and that things aren't looking good,- for everything, but I'm kind of hoping that everything will just be fine when I get there, I want it to be. I can't waste time. I'm sorry about the tour, I really am, but please do understand we're just going to have to delay the tour.”

“No of course Paul. Family matters are important and I give my condolences. I truly hope he is in good hands.
I will have to get busy, if delaying the tour is what will happen, but I do appreciate you coming to tell me this”.

“Thank you, deeply, Brian”.

“Now, If you're not willing to tell me much, that is your obligation. But there's more I've needed to talk to you about Paul”

Paul tapped his ash. He let Brian fill the silence.

“Dont get me wrong, I try not to pry into your personal lives, but I do occasionally pick up on certain things here and there that are enough for me to stay in the loop, even when I'm not being told”

Paul looked at him curiously.

“It may be your father that is upsetting you. It may not be. But things have become noticeable…”

Paul's hands began to tighten around each other while his knee began to bounce subtly.

“From a man who has had his own troubles and continues to. I know a thing or two about the pressure it creates, and sometimes the outlets we create for them”

Brian could sense Paul's nervousness.
“Son, I have no means to judge you, so this is a space I would require your honesty. What have you been using and for how long?”.

Paul gave a defensive grimace, feeling attacked about how forward Brian was. But that was the beauty about Brian, he somehow knew everything, whether it was obvious or not

“I…I”
“I'm not here to lecture you, but as- a friend, and someone who knows what kind of damage it can do, I want to be able to work with you through it”.
“You've done it before?”
“Yes, unfortunately I have Paul. I'm not proud of the fact I sometimes still do. But without a personal outlet, I'm unfortunate enough to resort to likely things. Lucky for you, you have John”.
“John?”
“Yes. Whatever happens with you two is magnetic, you two are an incredible pair. I’ve seen the way he centers himself around you. I'm only saying this because you have hope and you have support to get you out of any pity you've found yourself in”.

“But why do you think I've been using?”.
“Well, you haven't denied it for one. And, Paul, it's clear to see when you're riding a high, or..withdrawing" Brian said scanning Paul's tense demeanor.

He had too many questions about Brian's words, he didn't say anything at all.
“Just tell me what you've been using and I can know how to help you”.
“I don't need help Brian, I'm already working on it”.
“But do you have any clue what exactly you're working on?”.

He gave a glance to Brian.

“Exactly my point”.

Paul took the last drag of his cigarette. Defeatedly, he decided not to beat around the bush.
“Heroin. A little weed.
John helped me dispose of the heroin but I need the pot and cigarettes for a little while. Like I said, I'm working on it”.
“So you've gone cold turkey?”.
“Yes. And so what, it can't be such a bad thing?”.
“Oh Paul, going cold turkey may be uncomfortable for the first couple of days, but it's going to hit you the most when you're about halfway to recovery.
“Well, what am I supposed to do then? Go get some more, because that doesn't sound like the brightest of ideas?!”

“No need to get upset Paul. All I mean is that, the best thing to do is to be medicated for this”.
“Medicated!!!?”
“Not like what you're thinking Paul-”
“Well what else is that, I'm not going to a loony bin!”
“Thats not what being medicated is all about Paul. If you're taken to a doctor, they'll prescribe you medication, you take at your own will, and they tell you when and how much until you get better. You think you can do that?”.

Paul sat back and crossed his arms.
“I suppose, as long as there's no funny business….I don't like pills”

Brian laughed under his breath. “I always found that amusing about you, charming, but amusing, especially now”.

Paul rolled his eyes, “ I'll see a doctor after I see Da. I guess it would be hypocritical if I didn't take my own advice-”, Paul remembered pestering his father about a doctor.

Brain nodded in satisfaction

“Well, then. Is that all?”
“I don't know, you tell me Paul”.
“What else would you like to know?”
“I don't mean to pry on you too much, then again I do, because at the end of the day I want to make sure that you know you're not alone…
How's things between you and John, really?”
“They're, going..”

Brain knew Paul was reserved about his thoughts, but anything Paul could say was practically repeating what he mostly knew.

“Why is that?”
“You know… being a…non heterosexual man myself, I pick up on things, most people don't ".
“What’dya mean..? “ he was starting to feel a little nervous about how much truth was being exposed, however, if any one was to know….he would prefer it was him.

“Well, like I mentioned before, John looks after you, I see that”.
“Well, he's quite a good friend. He'd do a lot for any one of us”.

“I don't know why you try to hide it Paul”.
“I'm not hiding anything”
“You're certainly avoiding the truth of it”.

Paul stood from the chair and began pacing slowly to avoid the bluntness thrown at him.
“I'm not avoiding any truth”.
“Well then you’re at least ashamed of something”

“I’m..I’m not ashamed”
“Then why don't you tell me what it really is between you and John? If there isn't anything, why be so defensive about it?”

“I don't know, because I'm being cornered to admit something that could put me in prison!”

“Ah, there we are”.
“What?!”

“Well you didn't deny it- again, but then you told me what I need to know”

Paul stopped and lent against the wall facing Brian, caught for words.

“Seriously Paul, I have a nose for these things. But I can also see you have much trouble about the matter. Why don't you come sit down and talk to me about it?”.

Paul had crossed his arms self consciously. He looked at Brian hesitantly, but he was defeated by the sense he probably needed someone to finally talk to about…that sort of thing.

“Fine”. He walked back to the couch, opposite. “What do you want to know?”

“What is troubling you about it? Is it the acceptance of being involved with another man, or is the fear of others knowing?”

Paul, looking nowhere but his feet, blushed just a little. “Both”

“Okay. Right, well lets go through the first one then. When did you find out you had a thing for John?”

Paul hesitated. “ I didn't know it then,...but I've been thinking it was the first day I met him”.
“Thats quite sometime then”
“Yea. But I have no clue when John did. I mean we only just got on eachothers- level, a few months ago”
“Oh? And how did that unfold?”

Paul gave Brian a grimace, the kind when things seem too corny to take seriously.

“We er. We were just, messing around one night, things got…close, you may say. But it all ended horribly and the last few months have been rough. We've only just come to our senses. It took everything to crumble in on itself, but we got there”.
“I’m sure that you two have had your ups and downs for a reason, and I’ll leave you two to have the details if you wish. But you agreed you were also afraid. I understand that part, Paul. It's not fair that our type of love is criminalized and disowned. But, when you find your people you’ll feel grateful you're not alone; theres nothing wrong with it”.

Paul still hadn’t relaxed.
"But I can see you have trouble accepting it don't you?”.
“I think, I don't know Brian, maybe”.
“Do you think it's the way these beliefs have been woven into you long before you can remember, or is it the acceptance of change, image..?”.
“I just, you say that it's the accepting of that type of love but… I don't really see it all like that”.
“How so?”.
“I..I don't see myself, looking at other- men. I love John. Just John. I don't see everything else that identifies it, just that he cares and..god this is corny but he- completes me”.

“Oh. I understand. What you two have is special-”.
“But you say that too and I’m afraid of how obvious it all is to everyone else”.
“I assure you Paul, it is only something that those who know, will know. The straighter ones, they turn a blind eye to that sort of thing because they believe so deeply that a possibility as such couldn't be true. Many will just throw it a side, I can guarantee, the image you so willingly want to protect is not harmed, unless you deliberately choose to do so”.

“What gave it away to you first then?”.
“Admittedly, there have been several occasions I have questioned or put the pieces together, but I would say that time you fell I’ll with the stomach virus”.
“I remember that, but what ...why?".
“Did you ever notice how John never left your side? He was far more concerned about you than the questions interviewers were even asking. That man, if I’m being all honest, hasn't even looked at a bird that mesmerized."

“Okay okay. But it sounds like you knew John had a thing for me before I even noticed it myself”.

“I always had a feeling you wanted it Paul, but I knew, well I thought, that your beliefs would have you grounded for the rest of eternity.
I started to notice that you two had gotten closer when the two of you began acting like dramatic queens. That sort of dispute and silent treatment really only comes after a lovers quarrel”.
“You’re really enjoying this aren't you?”
“Well, I mean, not to overwhelm you by my observations but, it is relieving to know I was well, right all along; that and I have a fellow friend whom I can talk to about this. You will find the burden is that you'll struggle to voice your concerns; especially since many people refuse to come out of hiding. But Paul, your concerns are safe with me".

“I wish I had the will power not to hide it so much. If John hadn't moved first I doubt anything would've ever happened”

“I'm curious.. Paul, did he kiss you first?”.
“Yea, he did..?”.
Brain giggled, “You boys are filled with surprises".
“And why's that??”.
“Well, of all the people you'd expect to come out, Lennon would be the last by miles, don't you agree?”.

“Yeah, you're not wrong on that. It’s why I was so surprised when he kissed me-” Paul blushed again, forgetting what he was actually admitting
“But that's partially the reason why things turned bad..”

“What happened, may I ask?”, concerned for where this was going.
“I had no clue what or how to respond, the only thing I began to stutter about was the dangers of the situation, god damn me for always problem solving".
“I suppose he didn't take that lightly?”.
“No he did not. He walked out before I could argue my case, or even change the subject”.
“Not to be rude but that's not hard to believe”.
Paul gave Brian another confused expression

“It's just, not only do I know you Paul, John's very clearly insecure. He’ll shut down without much reason. If I had known all that was happening I could have offered you advice”.
“Yea, I guess”
“But you have resolved things, yes?”.
“Yea, It wasn't easy. Things had happened, but we got what we needed off our chests, and somehow we ended up closer. I'm not proud of why we did but, I guess it all happens for a reason right?”
“That is one way to put it”

With one last sigh Paul thought he'd shared much more than needed to.

“Well now I've told you one of my deepest darkest secrets, is there anything more you think I need to tell you?”.
“I believe that is enough for one day Paul, I appreciate you coming to me. I hope you can trust I will listen to you, and without judgment. I'm here if you ever need anything”.

“Same to you Brian”, with that Paul stood slowly from the sofa and made his way back, he was going to pack his things and go home.

Chapter Text

Thank god airlines didn't have issues with smoking during the flight, he wouldn't have made it otherwise.
By the time they landed Paul was already in need of a new packet, slight judgment from John started to take place but he had told him to bugger off about it- politely.

It was a nervous ride to the hospital, John driving the rental Rolls Royce provided once they had landed, and upon arrival it took a few moments to gather the courage to finally step out from the car.

“You okay?”
Paul's heart was skipping beats, what was he about to witness, what nightmare was going to unfold if he left the cage holding him separate from the rest of the world. Minutes had gone by as he stared longingly out the window.
“Yeah. Lets.. get on with this”

Slowly the pair approached the back door of the hospital, careful not to make an appearance, despite their (slack) disguises. They meet with a nurse who had been informed prior to their arrival.
Finding their way through the sickening white, haunting hallways, they found his room, 309.
His fist remained millimeters from the hard wood, uncertain how to act.
“Its okay, Hell be glad to see you”
*Knock* Knock*Knock*

“Hello Paul, come in, I'm glad you made it safe”
“Yes, we came as soon as we could. Mike watched as they entered, barely questioning John's appearance as it was natural to see the two together at this point.
Paul took his hat and glasses off as John followed suit, not taking his eyes off the man laying very quietly in the bed.

“Da, Its Paul, hes brought John two”

… “Paul?” the man grogily spoke to the air.

“Yes Da I‘m here, I’m right here”. He moved beside the bed so that his father could see him clearly.

“My boy. Oh Paul, I'm sorry to have you see me like this” *cough*cough*

Despite the growing tears Paul remained strong.

“Dont be sorry Da, you look fine! Just as fine as any other day yea? Just a cold ain't it? You’ll fight it off!”.

“Paul son, I don't think I can look that fine, I’m an old man you know”.
He laughed at his fathers quick wit, "Don't be silly Da, you're a strong young man, you know you are. I bet you've been chatting up all the nurses here!”

His father laughed as much as he could without causing a asthmatic attack.
“Why don't you tell me how you've been anyway boy, I've seen you on the news a bit, seems like you have the world wrapped around your finger”.

“Oh you haven't been watching that silly stuff have you?”
“Oh yes, it's the only source of entertainment here, that and the occasional pigeon that lands on the window sill” *COUGH*

Paul grimaced at the saddening fact his father had been secluded to this hell of a place.

“Remember, not all of it is true”.
“Yes, I know, I choose not to think about the foolish nonsense they produce to try and dig at you boys. I can't believe I heard someone actually believe that you were doing drugs.
I heard that and just about smashed the telly- *cOUGH*COugH* I was fuming. Ask Mikey, *Breathe* hell know..”

“Oh, don't believe that, they just need something to write about y’know”
“Thats why I don't give into it too much, my boys are much wiser to do any of that!”.

Paul could feel his chest tighten with dread

“Do you think you'll be able to go home soon?”
“Come on boy, as much as I'd love to be home, I'm in no state to be”.
“Then the doctors need to be quicker with healing you then, bet you they haven't given you any proper stuff like lemon or honey”.
“No no, what I require is much stronger than your mum's old wives tale tricks. They've got medicine here, and as long as I’m where the doctors are then I'm in no worry Paul”.

“What is the situation then?” He looked towards Mike.

“Doctors say the infection has almost taken over his lungs, he really should be saving his voice, but getting this man to be quite is almost harder than getting Lennon to act sane” Mike smirked
John’s head whipped with a glance, however knowing the current situation he let it pass by.

“But on a serious note, the staff here are doing the best they can. In fact they said he has improved since last night, he must've known you were coming”

They both looked to their father graciously
“Ofcourse, I had to put on a smile for wee Paulie, couldn't have you think I was a dead man already”

“Christ Da, dont say that”
“Sorry boy, just trying to lighten the mood”
“I know I know..”

Mike continued "They're running tests every day. His levels seem somehow stable, it's hope they said.”

Paul held his fathers hand “See, I told you you needed a doctor”

“Well I..*cough* I listened, eventually. Besides, if this is what happens after seeing the doctor I’d rather just stay at home from now on”.

They giggled at Jim's constant comedic sense
“I’m just glad you did”
“Well, we could spend all day talking about the ifs and ‘ifn’’ts’ or you could be a good lad and get me a tea?”

“I fly all this way and you want me to fetch you a cup of tea?”
“Of course, that's the whole reason you're here aren't you?”
“..Sure” Paul laughed and rolled his eyes as he stood. “Mike? John?”
“I’ll come with you Paul, need to get out of the room for a bit, John you'll be alright to stay yea?”.
“Er yeah, no problem, and I'm good thanks”.

The two left the room.

“Thanks for being here Paul. I didn't entirely know if you were going to be able to make it so quick”
“Of course Mikey, Brian understands, things can wait for serious matters”

“How have you been though, really? Must be quite difficult seeing him like this all the time?”
“I get through it, y'know, have to. Luckily the nurses are here quite often, that way I can dip out to get fresh air”
“He seems alright that you shouldn't have to be here all the time though Mike?”
“He seems okay now, I don't know what it is but when you walked into that room it was like the week before everything turned to shit-”
“What do you mean, how long has he been here for?, I told you to ring me if-!”
“I know Paul, I know. It happened all so fast, and I was busy dealing with caring for Da whilst dealing with things with my own lady and I forgot to ring you, then, but once he was steady here it was the first thing I got to”.

Paul's silence was uncomfortable. They rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“Mike what do you mean he seems okay now, how bad is it?”
Mike could see the heart break in his eyes.

“Paul. When he arrived in hospital they weren't sure that he was going to last the week. I had been visiting the week prior, checking to see how he was, then the last few days before they got him here he completely crashed. They said the infection had been attacking his immune system in the background and when it took over his lungs it was almost out of control. If he hadn't gotten here when he did.. Who knows if they would've been able to help

“Jesus Mike”

“But, he's stable. Being monitored constantly. The nurses believe that signs of improvement should show in the next few days, and if that happens we have every right to hope he'll be out in two to three weeks”
Mike turned the kettle on as Paul was processing the situation

“Listen Paul, I know you've tried to be strong, but I can see how much this is hurting you, and it hurts the both of us.” Paul looked to Mike sadly
“But, we do have to realise this isn't the same youthful man he still thinks he is. Worst comes to worse Paul, we might have to come to terms with it”

Paul sighed."I'm just not ready for it”

“I don't think anyone ever is really. No matter how much time we get told we have left even. But whatever happens, it's going to be okay. We've got each other”.

“Do you think we could stay a couple days here, just be here to accompany him, would that be a bother?”

“No not at all Paul, I’m in need to go home at some point anyway, so I'm sure the nurses won't mind if they allow you to take over the spare room. Though I will say, there is only one bed, it is a queen, but I’m sure if you ask nicely the nurses will find something for John”.
“I'm sure it’ll be okay, I don't want to trouble the staff any more than we need to. But thank you Mike, I really appreciate that.”
“No worries Paul, it’s what I’m here for”.
“Just make sure you look after yourself too”.

“Hey, you wouldn't mind if I went to the loo would you?”
“Absoulutley, I can't believe you'd leave me here with all the dirty work” he said sarcastically, picking up the two cups.
“Alright alright, you got me”
“No you're alright, I'll meet you back in the room yea, remember just turn left then down the hall”
“Okay”.

Mike left and Paul turned around, scoping out where he needed to be.
He didn't really need to go, instead he needed privacy to attack his flask he had ever so graciously been relying on since they boarded the plane.
Of course he had come face to face with the fact he wasn't going to be able to carry his usual substance with him overseas. Realising this dilemma, he had tried to fix this with as much whiskey he could carry with him.

He had found a stall and quietly downed a good quarter of the bottle, hoping that it would suffocate the withdrawals and the never ending lump rising in his throat.

He sat in silence, trying to ground himself. Coming to terms with another loss so close to him was far easier to live in denial, but he had to try, for Mike.
He took another sip and headed back through the hall, however taking a wrong turn.
He had walked down a few meters when he wasn't greeted with the kitchen he came from but St.Nicholas’s church that he seemed to be called to.
Being raised catholic didn't exactly shine in his adult years, but Paul never shied away from his roots. He never used to question anything about God and everything his mother used to preach, but he most definitely felt unheard.
There were times where he had prayed for his mother to get better, for his father to recover after the loss, and for the success of the band. But every time a matter seemed far more desperate, so called ‘God’ never listened.

Paul often felt targeted. Why bless the band with number one’s but burden him with rape? Why make a man so rich he doesn't know what to do with all the money, but give no time to his dying mother?
Paul slowly approached the statue of Christ, towards the altar with hatred in his eyes and anger on his breath. The large hall was deafening with silence, but the anger Paul was emitting could be heard bouncing off each wall.

“So this is what I'm supposed to believe huh?!” he began to rant out loud.
“Bow down to you and kiss your ass! You never gave the time or day to the things that really matter to me! Sounds like you're a no good bastard!
He began to sip on his flask again since he was alone.

He dragged one hand through his thick black hair, still focused ahead of him.
“Why should I believe in you?! Why should I trust you! Fuck you!
I prayed to you every fucking day and each time I asked for something the punishment got worse! It’s bullshit, fucking bullshit. You call it religion, You call it loyalty, you call everything else sin. But your so fucking full of it. Just let all those things happen to me! Of course, it MUST all be a part of YOUR plan huh? Some fucking plan that is, no good lying, stupid gitt!”

“Yea. Nothin. That's right! Cause you're full of shit” he began to walk back, hot tears swelling on his water line, fists clenched and steam rising from his ears.

He had been given no more reason to believe there was ever someone or something looking out for him. What god stands by and lets all those horrible punishments pill up on an innocent human being? Sure Paul had greed, lust, and did not worship the lord nearly as much as he was supposed to. But he also had self control, and knew when and how much was appropriate. He never bragged, never hurt anybody. There was never a legitimate reason Paul could think of that would allow his God to throw him the short stick in life.

He was almost to the door, when he turned around, and for a split second he saw a dove land on the window sill of the window right about the statue.
Mary had told him near her death that she would come back in times of need as a white dove. Though these were common creatures she assured both Paul and Mike would know it was her, strangely enough Paul’s breath paused.

The white dove sat peacefully, and Paul didn't move a muscle yet so far away.
Was it just high possibilities or a sign? If it was a sign, God surely had fun playing sick games with a man who definitely didn't have time for it; a sick bastard at that he thought. But he thought once more, making a mental request to whatever could listen. That if it really was a sign, well they already knew what he wanted, so he needed that to happen.

Sometime had passed and Paul eventually re entered the room with a few questioning eyes.
Thankfully Paul had cooled off on his walk back, resetting himself again.

“Aye what took you so long, was worried ya fell down the toilet?” Mike spoke first.

“Got lost on me way back, took a left not a right when I left the bathroom”
“Well your hear now, and Im gonna pack my stuff and let the nurse know of the plans for this evening”
“Okay, sure thing”

“Paul, come sit next to me son”.

**
“John, come here a moment”

Left to his own devices whilst the others had left, John wasn't sure how to handle the man who had been so hard to talk to, since before he could remember Jim had a thing against him (probably since he was taking Paul along the ‘wrong path’, though sometimes he suspected there was more to it then that…).
John moved over to the sweat beside the bed, waiting for whatever ear full he expected to get.
Jim spoke slowly and low enough he could save his breath.
“John, son. I know I've been tough on you all these years, I’m not saying I regret it, I had to keep things in line..as much as I could” he gave John a light hearted stern smile.
“But you've done well. And you, despite all my expectations, have looked after my son, so I must thank you.”
“Jim, it’s- it’s nothin-”
“And John.”
“Yes sir”
“Call me Jim”. “But John, whatever happens to me, promise you will look after him”.
John gave a confused look.
“Paul loves that band. And I was so upset when he chose you over, well what I thought was a steady career. Don't disappoint him or me by leaving him behind. I

know he takes it all too hard on himself, and if something happens to me I want to make sure he still has something to work towards”.
“But Jim, nothing's going to happen to ya-”
“Oh, but we can't be sure. Now, I'm terrible at apologies, and rarely you'll hear me say this as boldly as it comes- which I’m afraid I've let that become a bad trait, but John. I am proud of you, and all you have achieved. It takes incredible determination to not only strive for a star as bright as yours but to also prove everyone else around you wrong at the same time.”
“Thank you Jim”
“Just promise me you'll not let that star burnout, I see how much potential you all have together”
“I promise”
“Now that's a good lad”

All settled for a few seconds
“Jim I-”

Mike walked back through and that was the end of the conversation.

“Here you go Da. And I know you said you didn't want one but I brought along a tea for you as well John”.
“Thanks”.
“Thanks Mike”.

“So Paul wants to stay here a few nights. So as long as your okay with me heading home for a few days, I'm going to pack my things and discuss with the nurse for the two to take my room”
“Of course boy, you've been lingering round here for quite sometime, you deserve to go get some proper rest”
"As long as you feel okay with that”
“Yes, yes. Like planned, they will be here, I'm sure if there is news you'll be the first to know outside this room”.

The three had turned their attention to different things, taking a moment before Paul was due back.

**

Paul walked in, eyes avoiding anyone else's, softly moving next to the bed to sit down.
Suddenly John's focus turned to Paul, who carried himself less confidently than before, and all he wanted to do was embrace him.
John sat closer to the back of the room to allow the boys to catch up, but couldn't help himself for feeling sorry.
As the last few days had unfolded on him he hadn't had the chance to process it all. Going from flight to fight mode, John had hardly noticed how much Paul really looked in pain. He carried himself forward because he had to but John always saw more than Paul's surface level problems. As he sat there quietly thinking, reflecting on all the trouble in Paul's life, the horrid name kept circling his head. Again, and again, and again. Thought after thought, a sick plan began to boil in his head.
The murmurs of the others eventually turned out as he began to focus on a new idea. Before he knew it he had made a plan.

***

“John? Is that you?” Paul worriedly moved from the bedroom to the living room.

John hadn't moved since the door closed behind him. Only standing still in the doorway.

“John, where have you been I've been waiting for you for hours I-”
…
“J-ohn. You're.., what the hell happened” Paul was afraid and confused.

John, non verbal, stared soullessly towards Paul. Blood slid down his hand, dripping onto the floor. Darkness behind his eyes.