Skinny Love

August, 1972

Kay, some of the comments on Three's Company have been grinding my gears lately. Everyone needs to keep in mind that TC was my first book, and it was written based on what I read from other people - it isn't my best work and I know that, so I don't think people need to point it out all the time? I don't need comments asking why I did something or saying that I'm a cliché, but thanks! Rant over.

August 19, 1972

Freddie
I missed being at home with Lennon. I wanted to hold her, and kiss her, and bathe her, and put her to bed- I just wanted to hold her and tell her that I loved her. I hated being in the hospital, even though we were doing it for John. Lennie hadn't come to visit yet, because there was a small influenza outbreak, but Roger said he'd bring her by for John's birthday.

Despite the fact that it was John's birthday, I still wanted to leave him. He had hurt my daughter, he had hurt our family. I wanted to tell him that I forgave him and that it would all be fine, but it was hard to even look at him at that point- I wanted to be there for him, but I hated him. He had to get a tube in his nose, because he refused to eat, and it honestly grossed me out whenever they had to remove it to clean it- he'd cry when that happened, because it hurt when it slid out.

"Is Lennon coming for my birthday?" He asked, quietly, sounding weak.

"Yeah. Uh, Roger and Brian said they'd bring her, and some cake, to celebrate." I murmured, closing my book and looking at him. "Apparently she really likes icing now." I half-chuckled and he made a little noise- it sounded kind of angry. "What?" I asked, quietly, and he just shook his head while focusing on a spot on the wall.

"I'm not feeling well." He muttered, wiggling his nose a bit, making the tube move. "The tube is really uncomfortable." He whispered and I hummed with a bit of understanding- I knew it wouldn't be comfortable to have something shoved in your nose and down your throat. "And-and I think they fed me too much at breakfast, because my stomach is kind of upset." He continued but I shook my head.

"They fed you the right amount, you're just nervous." I felt angry again, but I couldn't figure out why. "Just... lay there and look at the wall until they come." I muttered, crossing my arms and looking at the door, waiting.

John sat up properly and he turned to face me. He took a deep breath, then he sighed before reaching over to grab my hand in his small, cold one. "I-I want to have another baby with you." He whispered and my heart skipped a beat. "For-for Lennon. I want her to have someone to play with, and-and I want to do it right this time." He continued and I slowly looked up at him. "Please." He sounded like he was begging and it made my heart cry for him- he shouldn't have had to beg for something that he wanted.

"She's only four months old, John. You and I have to get back to normal before we decide to bring another kid into the world- plus, you're still in the hospital and you haven't shown any signs of wanting to get yourself better. How am I supposed to know that you won't starve the next baby, too?" I raised an eyebrow and he looked into his lap, his eyes glossing with tears. "I need to know that you're better before we try for another one, okay? You need to actually get better, because when you were up the duff with Lennon, you were still unhealthy." I explained, then I sighed. "It isn't that I don't want more kids with you, because I really do, but I want you to be better, and I want this band to take off before we decide to do anything else. We need to have a stable foundation for our kids, and finishing the band would really help that because we'd have a source of income." I finished, then the door opened and Brian and Roger walked in with the baby. "Look, your little Lemon is here." I smiled, then John moved back to his spot, giving a weak smile to both Brian and Roger.

Both men were kind of uncomfortable seeing John in that state. They had told me several times that it was difficult to see him with the feeding tube up his nose and the IVs in his hands. He looked sick, we all knew it. He had gained almost ten pounds, but he still looked like he was going to drop dead. He was only gaining weight in his face, really, so his wrists were still thin and I could still see his ribs- even through the hospital gown.