Junk and Other Stories

Beautiful Boy

Before you go to sleep... 

John was sitting outside the delivery room, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. He felt sick. Maybe he was going to be sick. He considered jumping up and racing to the nearest toilet just to be sure, but he didn't move. John simply didn't dare. He couldn't have moved very far anyway. His legs felt so weak that he would have fallen over if he'd tried to stand up.

John leaned back in the cheap, plastic chair he was sitting in. He placed his hands over his eyes, pressing hard until bright colours and patterns whirled around in front of him. He kept his eyes closed and tried to calm down. His eyelids drooped. He hadn't slept for several hours and it was starting to catch up with him... but he didn't want to fall asleep. 

He was determined to stay awake, no matter how long it took.

He didn't want to miss what was inevitably about to happen.

Say a little prayer...

John glanced around the waiting room. There were a lot of people sitting around, similar gloomy looks on their faces. Most of them looked like expectant fathers waiting anxiously for their newborn children to arrive. Every so often a man would emerge from one of the other delivery rooms, shielding his face with his hands so no one could see the tears streaming down his face. John saw, and it made his stomach churn.

John peered warily at the big, white double doors behind him. He thought about what was going on behind them and shuddered. It was too scary to think about. Every inch of John's body was throbbing and pulsing with fear and dread, from his head right down to his toes. His heart was beating like a drum and he felt unbelievably nauseous.

He needed some sort of consolation; some kind of comfort. So he decided to seek help from a higher authority. John bent his head, clasped his hands together, and started to pray. He had never really believed in God, but at this point, he was willing to give anything a go.

Every day...

A thought suddenly struck John. Maybe if he hadn't met up with Paul - his best friend in all the world - after all those years of being separated, he wouldn't be stuck in his current situation. Neither him nor Paul would be experiencing all of this pain and anxiety. It would have saved everyone a lot of time, effort, and worry.

"I did this to him," John thought, tears pricking his eyes. "If I hadn't let him back into my life, then no one would have to be so upset and on edge. Everything would be normal. A normal life."

John soon realized how ridiculous and selfish he was being. He could have slapped himself for saying such things. Reuniting with Paul had been the best thing to happen to him in the past decade. His life had felt so empty and futile during the time leading up to Paul's visit. He was John's whole world now; the only thing he cared about and cherished. John thought about what awful things Paul must be experiencing and cringed. 

He couldn't bear to think about the consequences if something went wrong.

He couldn't live without his best friend.

His soulmate.

"Paulie..." John whispered, the tears starting to make their way down his face.

In every way...

Endless hours went by, and yet it was only minutes on John's watch. It was taking so long. Why was it taking so long? Surely everything should have ceased a long time ago. What if something had gone horribly wrong and the doctors had to take desperate measures? What if everything had failed and there was nothing they could do?

What if...

If...

John smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand, trying desperately not to think about such things. It wasn't going to help him or anyone else. He had to stay positive and think of all the good things that would happen after this hellish ordeal was over. He and Paul would be together again, healthy and happy, always there for one another. They could go back to doing all the things they love best; making music, spending the evening deep in conversation, going for walks in the park. John managed to smile a little thinking about these activities he loved so much.

They would be able to do lots of other things, too. John and Paul could go to the pond with a big bag of bread and feed the ducks; they could go to the playground and muck around on the swings; they could even break out the old toys they had found in the attack a few weeks earlier.

John remembered the conversation he and Paul had had while they were sorting through their old things. Paul had found a long-lost childhood teddy bear and hugged it to his chest.

"I loved this bear growing up," Paul said dreamily. "I know someone else who will really enjoy it when the time comes."

"You bet," John replied, grinning. "He's a handsome little fella, ain't he?"

"Not as handsome as you, Johnny, love."

John's smile grew as he recounted this, but his eyes were still glazed over with tears.

It's getting better and better...

Suddenly, the big double doors flew open. A very pale doctor in a white coat appeared, looking very tired but excited. He spotted John sitting just beside the door and grinned at him.

"Hello, Mr Lennon," he said cheerily. "How are you?"

"Tolerable," John replied. "Just tolerable."

"That's good." The doctor paused to clear his throat. "Anyway, everything went reasonably well, although it did take a bit longer than usually because of... circumstances."

John eyes widened. "Oh God. Is Paul okay? Was everything fine?"

"Yes, yes, it all went according to plan. It only took a little longer."

"Phew," said John, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. "And is Paul... I mean... Can I... Can I go in and see him? Please?"

The doctor nodded. "Just be very quiet and gentle. It's been stressful on Mr McCartney."

"Thank you," John said, practically bursting into song. "Thank you so much!"

He shook the doctor warmly by the hand and shot off through the double doors and down a long corridor. He found Paul's room easily enough (as it was the only one labeled MR MCCARTNEY). However, John was reluctant to open the door and go in. He had no idea what to expect. The doctor had said that everything went well, but John wasn't entirely convinced. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and entered the room.

Paul was sitting up in the hospital bed, looking utterly exhausted but cheerful. His face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw John. He gave a cry of delight and held his arms out to his friend. John ran to Paul and hugged him hard, but he was careful to be extra gentle.

"How are you, my darling?" John asked softly.

"Just fine," Paul answered, grinning. "It was terrifying, but I'm glad it's over. Oh John, I'm glad that we're together again. I'm glad that everything worked out."

"I'm glad too." John paused and glanced around the room, obviously looking for something.

Paul decided to have a little tease. "What are you looking for?"

"You know what!" John cried.

Paul laughed and gestured to a small metal cot beside the bed. "Here," he whispered. "But quietly now. Don't frighten the poor little creature."

"I won't," said John, then he leaned over to peer into the cot. He couldn't see much, just a big white bundle resting in the little iron bed, but, among the folds of fabric, a little pink face was clearly visible. The eyes were shut, deep in sleep. A small tuft of brown hair poked out from underneath the blanket.

"Oh!" John cried delightedly. "He's gorgeous, Paul! He's so small and sweet!"

"And he's ours," Paul breathed, gazing in wonder at the tiny baby so peacefully sleeping. "He's our little boy... Our Richie."

"Richie..." John tried the name out several times before nodding. "It suits him."

"I know." Paul paused to stroke the baby's tufty hair. "He's beautiful."

"Our beautiful boy," said John.

(And that, dear readers, is the story of Richie Lennon-McCartney's (from Let's Play House) birth. I hope you enjoyed it! :D)