Bassist and the Beast

Chapter 20: His Name

The beast sighed as he sat on the chair in front of the fireplace, the fire flickering and providing him with much-needed heat.

Paul held the rag in his hand, dipping it into the bowl of warm water that sat in front of him.

Behind them, Cynthia, George, Ringo, and Martha all sat silently, knowing too well how the beast would act in a moment.

The bassist raised the rag out of the water, squeezing it so that the excess liquid went down back into the bowl.

He looked up at the beast, who stared at him with no emotion.

Paul presented the rag, making the beast bring his injured arm out.

"This... might sting a little."

Before the beast could say anything, Paul placed the rag on his wounds, making him let out a little roar at the sensation.

Cynthia and Martha jumped back a little, but George and Ringo stayed where they were, cringing.

The beast pulled his arm away.

"A Little!? That was a lot!"

"Well you don't want it to get infected, right?"

"Thou do not hast to do this, I am fine!"

Paul stared at the beast's wounds on his arm.

"It's starting to bleed."

The beast, blinking, glanced at his arm, only to see that Paul was speaking the truth.

"Fine..."

He rested his arm back down again, looking away from the bassist.

"Thou can... do it."

Paul slowly paced the rag back down on his arm, and the beast suppressed a roar as he clenched his teeth together.

Slowly, the beast turned to look at the bassist, who stared back at him blankly.

For a moment, the two sat in silence, the only sound being the cracking of the fire.

George and Ringo both looked at each other, both not knowing what to do.

Eventually, Paul broke the silence, caressing the rag.

"What... what is your name?"

Cynthia, Martha, George, and Ringo all looked up at the beast sharply, eyes wide as they saw the grim expression on his face.

"What did thou ask?"

"What is your name?" Paul repeated in a soft tone, making the beast raise an eyebrow.

Taken aback by his kind tone and expression, the beast leaned back in his chair, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I... I do not hast to tell thou."

Paul sighed, gaze dropping to the rag for a moment.

"Just tell me. Its... beside what you did earlier... its the least that you could do."

The beast slowly returned his gaze to Paul, who stared up at him.

He sighed, lowering his head.

"John. John Lennon."

Paul took in a breath, and breathed out slowly, lowering his head.

"Well... thanks for... saving me life, John."

John widened his eyes at the sound of someone else saying his own name.

"It has been... so long since... I heard someone else say my name."

He paused.

"And... thou art... welcome," John said, voice going quiet as he turned his head away from the bassist.

Paul sighed, glancing at the object behind him for a moment.

"I... I already know... what's going on here. The curse and that."

John sat back in his chair again, now growing nervous and angry.

"So, one of my friends told thou without talking to me first?" He asked in a voice that was too sharp for Paul's liking.

"Now, you shouldn't feel mad at them for telling me. Besides, it's not like anyone else in my town is going to believe it..."

John sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"And... wait a minute, where were thou before thou intruded?"

Paul froze up for a moment.

"I uh... I went out of my room to... Eat a little..."

John stared at Paul for a moment, a slight glare appearing on his face.

"So thou would rather do that and to eat with me?"

"That was... That was before... You saved me from those wolves, you know."

John blinked, and, expression softening, leaned back into the chair, sighing.

"Well... I will... Let that pass..."

George and Ringo looked at each other.

"Did he really just say that?" Ringo asked quietly.

George did his best to shake his head in disbelief.

"He just did..."

Cynthia, who was behind them, smiled, Martha wagging her fabric tail in delight.

"Well, I do not know about thou two, but I think that we might hast a chance here."