in which brian is improving

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     For the first couple days, Brian seemed sad. He didn't leave his bed much no matter how much the Beatles tried to coax him into venturing as far as the living room.

      They brought him food and water and tea but Brian turned as much of it away as he could manage, but the boys were quite insistent — most of all, Paul. They cared for him so much, and if they grew a tad aggressive about getting to eat his toast because of that, well, it is what it is.

     After those first couple days, Brian got out of bed. He'd go and sit at the kitchen table with the four boys during mealtimes — eating as little as he could get away with under the watchful gazes of the Beatles — before slinking back to the room he was sharing with Ringo.

      "Okay, tell us again what he said," George said in a hushed voice after John had gone to make sure Brian was sleeping and confirmed that he was.

      Paul sighed and for probably the hundredth time he told his three bandmates who were crowded around him what Brian had said to him that night, word for word, leaving out only the part about what Paul had said to him years ago — he never had gotten around to telling them that Brian knew he was gay.
    
      "Do you — do you think he was — " George stopped, his face paling and turning an odd shade of green.

      "Do you think he was going to kill himself?" John asked quickly.

      George turned impossibly greener as Paul sighed, nodded, and said, "Yeah...yeah, I do." With that, George strode across the kitchen, leaning over the trash can and heaving the contents of his stomach into it.

      "Geo," Ringo sighed, rubbing circles on his friend's back as he was sick into the rubbish bin. "Look, we've got to look in the bright side. Brian isn't dead. Paul got to him in time, he made the right call and brought him here. We're going to fix this, we're going to make Brian see that he has so much to be happy about — so much to live for."

      "Ringo's right," John nodded. "We can help him. We can do this."

     "I sure as hell hope so," Paul sighed, and if he was a tad skeptical it was only because he'd grown so accustomed to losing people that he cared about.

      After several days of Brian staying in the same clothes he had arrived in, Paul finally brought him to his house to get some clothes and things.

      "I really am fine," Brian tried to tell Paul but one look from his friend told him he wasn't getting out of this, he was going to go back to the Beatles' apartment.

      Brian went on, getting out of bed only to eat and use the bathroom, for a couple of weeks — Paul, John, George, and Ringo grew more and more worried with each passing day.

     Then, one day, Brian came out into the kitchen for breakfast like he did everyday; nothing seemed different, the Beatles didn't expect anything at all.

      Brian was engaging in conversation a bit more than he had been which lifted Paul, John, George, and Ringo's moods. Then after breakfast, Paul and John said that they were going to run out and do the grocery shopping and —

      "Could I come with you?"

      If they hadn't seen his mouth move, none of the band would have believed that the words had come out of Brian's mouth. They stared at him in shock, all of their mouths agape.

      "I mean, if you don't want me to I can just — "

      "No!" They all said quickly.

      Paul smiled. "No, Bri. We'd love for you to come with us."

      "Yeah, definitely," John nodded. "We're going to get dressed. You should go get dressed too and then we can go, okay?"

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