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★彡[ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 15]彡★

★彡[ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ]彡★

Paul was very supportive of Abby. He was outside the flat every morning to drive her and Mollie to school, and he spent as much time with Abby during the day as he could so she didn't get sad. The rest of The Beatles weren't too keen on this as they had an album to record, but Paul didn't care that much. Abby needed him and Mollie needed Abby, which meant that they both did.

He even helped her look for jobs!

However, this was certainly not his strong suit - he'd never really been employed for more than a few months in Liverpool, and in London he'd never had a conventional job.

And then Paul took Abby to pick Mollie up everyday after school.

Exactly a week after Abby had quit her job, they were outside Mollie's school dropping her off. Abby and Paul turned around in their seats and said goodbye to the little girl.

"Bye Paul!" Mollie exclaimed as she climbed out of his car, which by now had begun to gather some attention from the other parents who were not as fortunate as Paul was. As soon as she closed the door behind her, Abby let out a deep chesty cough.

Paul looked at her worriedly. "You don't sound well," he observed, "do you need a drink? We could go for coffee -"

"I don't feel well, Paul," Abby admitted, sneezing twice in quick succession into the sleeve of her coat, The weather was still cold enough to warrant one so early in the morning. "I think I need to go home. Do you mind?"

Abby never needed to spend the day in bed. She always had somewhere to be (like work) and thought that she could pull herself together, but today she genuinely felt awful... worst than she had done since she had been a very young child.

"Of course not." Paul said as he restarted the car and drove her home. He accompanied her to the door of her flat, even though Abby insisted that he didn't need to. "I'll stay with you." He said as he followed her in.

"Honestly Paul, I'm going to go back to sleep. You might as well go and get some recording done or something. I know the boys are angry with you." She had heard him grumbling to himself about John when he had picked her up a few days previously.

Paul didn't want to leave her - especially when he knew that she didn't have a phone to call him if she needed him... but he wondered how she would have coped if he had not been there at all, and was confident that she would have done so. His presence had already begun to change her, and he hoped that she didn't mind.

He gave in, sighing. "Okay Abby, I'll leave you be. I'll be back just before three to get you for Mollie, okay?"

Abby nodded and thanked him with a smile. She would have hugged him, but didn't want to pass on whatever she had to him!

Abby waited until the door had closed behind Paul before she ran to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet, throwing up the slice of toast which she had eaten for breakfast.

She knew that she had a full day of vomiting ahead of her.

When Paul returned at 2:45pm, he knocked politely on the door. Nobody answered. He knew that it was ridiculous, but he was immediately worried that something had happened to Abby! What if she was really ill? Who would take care of Mollie if something serious happened to her sister?

Panicking, he looked around for a spare key to the flat. He looked on top of the door frame and under the potted plant by the door. He checked beneath the welcome mat last, and came up lucky. He unlocked the door and let himself in, calling out for Abby. He felt like an intruder.

There was a noise coming from further in the flat, and he knew exactly what it was. Paul took off his jacket and left it in the living room draped over the settee before he went towards the sound.

Abby was on her knees in the bathroom, and she was retching over the toilet.

Paul knelt down behind her and held her hair back. She tried to wave him away, but it was clear that she was flailing. She had beads of sweat trickling down her face and was so pale that Paul could see the veins beneath her skin.

He waited until she had finished before he said anything, "Abs, you should have told me this morning if you felt this ill."

She shook her head slowly, not wanting to start another bout of vomiting.

"It wasn't this bad this morning..." she looked at her watch. "I need to go get Mollie, I -" she had tried to get up, but had fallen down. Paul caught her in his arms and Abby recoiled, not wanting to get any sweat or her mess on him.

"You," Paul said, "need to be in bed. You can't leave now."

"But Mollie -" Abby turned back to the toilet and threw up again.

"I'll get Mollie. You need to rest. I'll be back soon." Paul said as he tucked Abby's hair into the back of her shirt to keep it out of her way. He didn't want to leave her in the state she was in, but knew that it would stress her out more if no one was there for Mollie.

He had to be.

He hesitated for only a few seconds before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

Abby barely even noticed. She was too busy trying not to throw up.

She trusted Paul, of course. He had done more for her in the last few weeks than some of her old friends had done in all the time that they had known each other.

Abby didn't want to give the responsibility of her sister to anybody; it was her responsibility, afterall... but she really did need to sleep.

And Paul wanted to do this for her.

He returned a few seconds later with a glass of iced water and some tablets. He gave them to her and made sure that she swallowed the medicine before he told her once again that he would be back soon, and then he left to go get Mollie.