Paranoid (A Beatles Fanfiction)

Priorites

"John? I heard something fall, is everything alright?" the voice belongs to none other than Paul McCartney. His shadow is cast across the room as he stands in the doorway of John's office.

John is sitting in the floor, photo in hands and hurriedly trying to wipe the tears away. "Um yeah Paul, it's fine. Smokey knocked off a couple of things off the desk." John turned around to face him. "It's fine."

Paul nodded. "You've been drinkin' hard haven't you?" Paul asked. John turned back around and sighed. "Not like I have anything else better to do, do I? My drinking apparently scares the livin' daylights outta ye."

Paul smiled for a second. "It's just you and the heavy stuff never mixed well, did it?" John sighed again and turned around, "Help me up, will ya?"

Paul obliged and helped life the older man off the ground. A second later he noticed the photo and the redness in John's eyes. "Lets have a look then." Paul mumbled. He took the photo from John and studied it. "That was a good concert wasn't it?" Paul asked with a smile.

The older man nodded and hoarsely said, "Yeah. It was alright. Couldin't hear a fuckin' thing though." Paul laughed and sat the photo down. "So Smokey broke the frame then?" Paul asked, seeing the glass on John's desk.

"Yeah. Then the little bastard just looks at me like its my fault. Good thing he's cute or I would've stuck one on 'em." Paul laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Gettin' late isn't it, Johnny?" John nodded. "Yeah it is." Paul patted him on the shoulder and said, "Well c'mon then. Off to bed with you." Paul began to leave the room when he softly heard John speak. "I can't sleep, Paul."

The room fell silent. "Why can't you sleep?" Paul turned around and saw John was facing away from him still, his eyes fixated on that photograph of him and George. Smiling and laughing. Something they had forgotten how to do.

"Because I'm fucking scared Paul." Paul froze. "Of what?" he asked. John looked up to the ceiling and breathed through his mouth. Tears brimmed in his eyes. "I'm so fucking scared. Scared for George. For the band. For our future. For everything. We're not even friends anymore it seems. We can't keep our shit together. And none of this would have happened if I hadn't have made fun of George, if I would have just taken this seriously in the beginning."

"Hey, hey!" Paul said as he placed his hands on John's shoulders. "John it's not your fault. You've done everything you can, alright? You actually gave us the medication, told us the things he did. Hell that first night in the hospital you were the one who held George by your side and comforted him. While all I did was get pissed at Brian and smoke."

John's eyes were red and a few tears escaped his eyes. "God Paul, it's all gone to shit hasn't it?" his voice cracked. "No it hasn't! We're family. All families have their problems and like a family we stick together and get through it."

"What about Ringo though?" "You know how stressed he is. Hell he's been doing more for George than you and I put together. He didn't mean what he said probably. He's just like us, stressed. Like I was at the hospital that first night."

The night all of them wanted to forget.

"John, things will be okay one day alright? We have to be patient with George. And Ringo. And well, with each other. We're going to fight a lot and we'll have a lot of bad days but we'll have good days to come and lots of memories to share. Soon this will all be forgotten."

John glared at Paul. "We don't just forget shit like this, Macca. Did you forget your Mom dying? My Mom dying? Stuart dying? All the fucking bad things that happen? They don't fucking go away, Paul! No matter how many happy memories we make, things like this won't go away. Have you forgotten George's screams, the tears on his face. Fuck Paul, the most unemotional man in the universe is driven to tears because of this! You might wanna forget it, but we won't. Or at least I won't."

John stormed out of his office and turned to Paul before going downstairs. "Try not making things about you every once in a while, alright? It's George's turn."

John walked down the hallway and heard footsteps run up behind. "John! You think I'm making this about me?" "It's always about you, McCartney." John spat as he kept walking down the hall. He was about to walk down the stairs when he felt Paul grab his shirt. "Stop fucking walking, John! Alright?"

John turned around and faced him. He was swaying a bit, the whiskey starting to take it's toll. "What do you want?" He asked as he leaned against the wall, trying to keep in balance. "What do you want from me, Paul?" "I want to know what's turned you into a massive dick!"

John laughed with his hands running through his hair. "Fucking open your eyes, Paul! I am a dick! I've been a dick since birth!" "No, John. Not like this. You wouldn't say these things. You wouldn't. If you were really you."

"For fucks sakes! Do you not see what's going on around you? Do you not know what's happening? Our mate is losing his mind! I'm not going to be a polite and caring just because of that!" "You were crying earlier, John. I saw it." "And you weren't?"

The room went silent. John sighed and moved closer to him. "I looked at that photograph of me and George together. He was happy, smiling. Physically. But I look at it and think, "he was in hell when this was taken" while we're all having a grand time singing A Hard Day's Night to our hearts content, he's fucking seeing that seven or eight wanker and hearing shit."

"John.." Paul whispered. "I miss him, Paul. I miss how things used to be. I miss how happy go lucky he seemed. How happy we were." John wiped at his face, he was getting tired and the whiskey wasn't helping.

"So yeah, I'm allowed to drink, I'm allowed to be short and allowed to be stressed. But you, Paul, you try and cut straight to the core when you're angry and bring up irrelevant shit. Like that night at the hospital. George hallucinating and shit and you wanna talk about Brian being gay."

Paul had tears in his eyes. John's drunk, angry rants were right.

"So get your priorities set right, Macca."

***************************************

Their lips were unmoving at first. They were just on one another's. And a few moments later George moved his lips and Ringo did as well. They were finally kissing.

The kiss was intense, it tasted like salt water, tears and nothing like the two of them had ever tasted before. It was to say the least, different.

The kiss lingered a moment longer and they broke apart as a wave crashed onto them. George wrapped his arms around Ringo, making sure he would go. After the wave crashed over them Ringo clung on tight to George, his breathing heavy. "I got you, George. I got you."

The temperature was dropping. And they were soaked to the bone and freezing. They held onto each other for warmth. Until finally Ringo pulled away. "Come on, it's freezing."

***************************************

Hey guys! How are y'all doing? Ahh summer is here, thank da lawd. Well anywho I thought I would give a quick update. Also I thought I would share with you that I'm seeing Ringo on the 22nd of this month! So about 13 days to go c: I will defiantly share pictures & video with you guys! Do you guys have any plans for the summer?

I love you guys! Keep the votes & comments coming! 💕