Paul & John

[Chapter Twelve - A Place To Stay]

-- P A U L --

Paul unlocked the house door with his house key. Once they were both inside, Paul shut the door behind them. He went over to kitchen to set the groceries in the areas that they belonged in. John didn't know what to do, so he simply followed his friend.

"Why were you out in the rain, John?" Paul asked, making sure the eggs weren't broken. He waited for John's answer as he placed them in the refrigerator.

"Jus' wanted to forget," John mumbled. He slammed his wounded hand on the countertop, catching himself before he could fall into another drunken spell of unconsciousness.

Paul wrapped an arm around John's shoulder, leading him to the couch as he helped his friend remain on his back.

"Is he coming back?" John slurred. Paul took a moment to look at the broken lad underneath him and sighed, not knowing what to say ----his words would break John's heart anyhow.

Paul sighed as he bit his lower lip.

"I'm afraid not, John."

He covered his friend with a nearby blanket and walked back into the kitchen to put the groceries where they belonged.

And all he could think about was the wound on John's hand and wondered how he got it.

Shaking his head, he simply concluded that John must have accidentally cut himself with the liquor bottle he had held before.

---

"What's he doing here?" Mike asked, taking a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. Paul glared at his younger brother, not wanting to go into detail about John's stay here.

"Fuck off, Mike," Paul stated flatly. "he needed a place to stay, that's all."

Mike shrugged. "Better hope Dad doesn't catch him 'ere. He is sleeping on Dad's couch."

Paul rolled his eyes, then went downstairs to go find John on the floor of the living room.

He looked to where John had been lying previously and found his father sprawled out with a liquor bottle. John, on the other hand, was completely black and blue on his face and his neck was red.

Paul growled, finding that his father must have hurt his friend. He shook his head and bent down as he slung John's weight on his shoulder; trudging upstairs to the guest bedroom as he laid John down on the bed.

"I'm sorry my father did this to ye, John." Paul whispered to his friend; wrapping his wounded hand with a gaws. "I'll make sure he won't ever do tha' to you again."

Once he finished tending to John's wound, he trekked downstairs and carefully took the bottle from his father's grasp as he poured the last of the alcoholic beverage down on Jim's head.

Once the older man felt a liquid being poured onto him, he sat up abruptly.

"What the--"

He was cut off with Paul taking a swing at his father's jaw; knocking him back down to the floor.

"You don't hurt John like tha'," Paul growled, pointing his index finger at the flabbergasted man. "He is a guest 'ere. And he deserves nothing but the best of hospitality when he's here."

With that, he went back upstairs to his room. Though when he tried to open the door, the doorknob wouldn't budge.

It was locked.

Paul placed his ear near the door and heard giggling. He rolled his eyes. Another one of Mike's flings. Groaning, he went over to the guest room and laid down next to John.

----

-- J O H N --

John awoke in a haze. The world seemed to have been spinning when he woke up. He turned to his right and found Paul lying next to him; his chubby arm slung over his friend's waist.

"Paul," the older lad yawned, "Where am I?"

The chubbier lad fluttered his eyes open, looking like a Disney princess as he yawned.

"Yer at me house," he said groggily. "You don't remember, do ye?"

John shook his head no. He didn't remember much of anything. He lied back down and stared up at the ceiling.

"What do ye want to do today?" Paul asked, snuggling up to John's chest. John shrugged, sighing.

Surprisingly, he didn't push the younger lad away. Well, he wanted to, but he couldn't bring it in his heart to do it right then and there.

"Songwriting?" John suggested. Paul nodded.

"Tha' sounds like a good idea, mate," he said, "let's just sleep in a couple of more hours, yeah?"

John smiled.

"That sounds like a great idea, 'Macca."