If John Lennon had Survived

Chapter 6: Two of Us

John and I sat there in shock, taking in all the information we suddenly realized was right in front of us the whole time.

"John, what if we're overreacting? What if Ritchie is just really nice to me because..." I trailed off, staring at John, watching him look up from his round glasses only slightly, furrowing his eyebrows.

The room sat in silence. I opened my mouth to say something, but a sudden hush fell over me seeing John look as though he were ready to cry. He stood up right next to me, turning to look at the clock as though we had a set time to leave, but we didn't. Seeing John so jealous over this tiny delema made me sick to my stomach, as if it were all my fault.

Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea strike my body like lightening. I leaped out of my bed, not thinking, and ran to the bathroom.

John's POV

I stood still in shock as Macca ran to the bathroom. What could he possibly be doing? It was only then when I heard the sounds. The gutrenching gags, hiccups, and burps. I immediately chased the sounds back into the musty bathroom.

There he was, bent over the toilet, still in his hospital gown.

"You alright Macca?" oh how I hoped to get a thumbs up in return. Macca turned around, nodding slightly. He started crawling towards me, but burped loudly and turned back around to the only other John in the bathroom. I walked over, kneeling down to rub his back as he emptied his stomach.

"It'll be alright Macca, just, umm, let it all out, heh," I awkwardly giggled at my own statement, seeing how the only other time I had done this was when Cynthia and Yoko were pregnant. Oh, and that one time Julian drank overdue milk- way overdue milk.

When Macca was finished, I helped him wash up and get back in bed. But, after all that I couldn't get the thought of Paul leaving me for Ringo.

Paul's POV (The story will ALWAYS be in this POV unless I say so)

John carefully sat me down in the hospital's creaky, yet comfortable bed.

"Hmm, we should do something about that I.V, shouldn't we?" silence, "we should do something about Ringio too..."

After waiting a while to let my stomach settle, I began to sit up carefully, hoping the bed wouldn't creak. It did. John looked over at me very quickly.

"What are ya' doin' Macca?" I didn't reply, I just scooted myself off the bed. John must've gotten the message because he immediately grasped my hand. Before I fully stood up, the bed creaked some more. My muscles hurt more and more with each slight movement. My feet lightly tapped the floor, sending shivers up my spine and through the rest of my body.

"It's cold," I giggled tiredly.

"Which is why you should be in bed," John was so caring and gentle with me. He always was.

I lost my balance and suddenly went limp into John's chest, letting him hold me close.

"So, what are we going to do about Rings?" I heard him whisper. I just rolled my heavy eyes and kissed him passionately, holding tightly to the back of his jumper, not wanting to fall. He began running his wrinkled hands through my thinning hair. I tiredly pulled my aged lips away from his, letting his soft, worried look settle in my mind.

"Now, that's a sight for sore eyes," I whispered gently. John wrapped me in his arms, carefully walking over to the hospital's bed. As we sat down on the noisy bed he softly sang:

"There are places I remember

all my life

Though some have changed...

I joined him on the last verse:

"In my life

I love you more..."

John then stood up and slowly walked over to the window which let in bright rays of yellow and white. He closed the lavender curtain revealing a darker room. It's truly amazing how one can create a simple change in the environment, unleashing a new universe. John just walked over to the sink, looking down into the drain, only God himself could understand what he was thinking. I just hoped it wasn't about Ringo.

Only seconds later our door slowly creaked open making the once tiny golden slit an aggressive bright blob. I quickly looked up, though John just kept on staring into the sink.

"Mr. McCartney, a visitor has requested to see you," thinking it would be Sean I simply croaked:

"Let 'em in." Though, to my surprise a familiar figure emerged. The same hooded figure we'd given our autograph to. He tried to mutter something out, but it only took his weak voice for John to figure out exactly who he was.

"Jesus, isn't beating us enough?! What do you want, money?!" the nurse started tugging on the boy's jacket before I said, "He's fine, let him stay," John only stared at me.

"Well?" patience wasn't John's virtue.

The young man opened his mouth only to reluctantly close it. It took him a couple of seconds before explaining, "Look, I-I'm sorry about all this. I thought they were just going to slap you guys once and leave. A simple prank y'know... The blackmailed me with pictures. If I had known- If I had more common sense, I would've said screw it and gotten embarrassed. I really am sorry. Is there anything I can do?" John quickly budged in with a simple answer:

"Leave," the boy just looked up tiredly and it was only then when I saw it. His eyes had dark bags under them, his hair was in a mop, and he was oh so skinny. He nodded and slowly left, i could hear the whimper of his cries from down the hall. I genuinely felt like crying. What he did was awful, but he didn't look healthy, and he seemed to be a fan with that hair. Besides, he must get bullied often.

"John," I said trying to hold in the tears. He looked at me. He looked at me hard with the face of puppy whom had just gotten in trouble. It seems dramatic, I know. This was only a harsh prank, but we knew it would be on the news. We knew we would be treated differently, like disabled veterans. And we knew we'd have to talk about it. Alot. At interviews that is.

I heard the clicking of heels and the patter of flat shoes. To looked up to see Stella and Sean. Sean walked over and talked to John, while Stella scurried over to me.

"Dad," tears ran down her cheeks. She just stared and clenched my hand, "At first, when Mary and I called Mr. Martin, he said that you two were walking home and that he didn't know much else. We only got the call an hour ago. Mary is at home making the soup mom used to make," the rest was inaudible crying.

I patted her head and said that everything was going to be alright. Sean and I talked a while whilst Stella chatted with John. John and I insisted for them to go home before us, and they did. George insisted on driving us home, and he did.

Writer's note: I'm sorry this took so long. I'll be honest and say that I was lazy rather than tell you that I blame school.