Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which paul is adjusting

     When Paul woke up the next morning, he was positively over the moon. He was going to save John Lennon! He wasn't going to let him die! John was going to live this time!

      Paul suddenly had high hopes and dreams for his life. He began planning, trying to figure out how he was going to save everyone. He'd have to try and convince George not to smoke and maybe he could find a way to make sure Linda is diagnosed earlier on and she could be treated!

     This time, everything was going to be better. He would make sure of that.

     He got dressed and headed over to John's flat around noon, carrying his guitar in its case. He pressed the buzzer and John let him in a few moments later. He hurried up the stairs, all twelve flights, and he was out of breath and sweating by the time he got to the top - of course, he couldn't care less.

      Paul opened the door and walked in without knocking. "Hey, Johnny!" He called and his heart fluttered at just being able to do this again.

      "Hey, Macca!" John called back and walked into the room. "You're early."

     "Well, you know," Paul shrugged.

     "We should write until we have to leave," John said.

     "I thought we were doing that tomorrow," Paul said.

      "Yeah, but I've got a really great idea for song!" John said and Paul realized how much he had missed seeing John get so excited whenever he had a really great idea. "Okay, I've already got a little bit of it." John grabbed his guitar and began to strum. "Ready to be blown away, Paulie?"

      "I'm ready," Paul laughed.

      John smirked and played his guitar. "Last night I said these words to my girl
I know you never even try, girl
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
Please please me, whoa yeah, like I please you,"

      Paul's heart stopped for a solid few seconds.... This wasn't supposed to happen. This song wasn't written for over another year! What the hell was going on....

      John looked Paul dead in the eyes as he sang. "You don't need me to show the way, love
Why do I always have to say "love"
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
Please please me, whoa yeah, like I please you,"

      Paul watched John carefully as the older man (well, John was technically older now, but Paul was really seventy three, so...) set down his guitar.

      "That's all I've got so far," John shrugged, his gaze never leaving Paul's. "So, what do you think?"

     "I...I love it," Paul said. This isn't supposed to happen, this isn't supposed to happen, this is all wrong!

     "Truth?" John raised an eyebrow.

      THIS. IS. NOT. SUPPOSED. TO. HAPPEN. "No, really! I love it, John." Paul said and shook himself out of his thoughts.

     John smiled and it was a real, genuine smile that he Paul remembered him hiding from most people. "Thanks, Paul. It means a lot coming from you, you know."

      This was something Paul could deal with. Paul could handle the rough and tough John that was all about sex, booze, and music. Paul could also handle the real John, the one that was hidden behind a mask - the one that came down from time to time...the one that only Paul really ever got to see when they were younger. But he absolutely could not handle the John that was writing songs over a year before they were meant to be written!

      "George and Pete are going to be here in a little bit," John said, getting to his feet. "Pete called. He said he'll make it through the show, so that's all settled. He promises he's fine but I swear, ill or not, if he throws up onstage in front of an audience, I'll pummel him."