My Love, My Drug, My Release

Chapter 68: Grown-Ups

I just reuploaded the first Beatles fanfic I ever wrote. I took it down almost two years ago to edit because I wasn't happy with it, but I've finally finished revising it. It's mostly just cleaned up, so you don't need to reread it if you've already read it once (though it does have a different epilogue to set it up for a sequel I'm planning).

It's called 'The Girl Who Changed Everything' and I hope you'll give it a chance!

John carried me back to his apartment with the rain hammering down on us, the aggressive, circuitous rhythm made me feel like I was being hypnotized.

Setting me down on the couch, he draped a blanket over my body, and it was only then that I realized how cold I felt. My nose was stuffed, my sinuses congested, goosebumps erupting on my skin. John brought me a towel for my soaking hair while Yoko set a cup of tea in front of me.

"For when you're ready," she said. "It's chamomile."

I opened my mouth to thank her, but my teeth were still chattering, so I snapped them shut, bundling deeper into the blanket. I was embarrassed to let them see me like this, especially since the last time I saw Yoko, she took me to get an abortion. Paul didn't even let them into my hospital room. They probably thought I was so pathetic, always in need of rescuing.

"If you don't mind me asking, love, what are you doing all the way out here without any shoes?"

I looked down at my feet, which were in Yoko's lap. She used a set of tweezers to remove tiny bits of glass and debris, making me flinch.

"Linda hates me now."

Scoffing, John put his arm around my shoulder. "I highly doubt that."

"It's true."

"Why would she hate you?"

I didn't respond, keeping my eyes off his, ashamed.

"Rainy," he said slowly and firmly, "why would Linda hate you?"

"It's Paul isn't it?" his wife asked, settling down the tweezers and pressing bandages onto the soles of my feet. "He and you..."

When I took too long to respond, John's face went red as a tomato. In a flash, he was off the couch, pacing back and forth manically. "I knew it, I knew that bloody git was a fucking nunce-"

"John!" Yoko flicked her head in my direction.

I tried to steady my trembling, but I couldn't, and not just from the chill.

The musician's face fell, eyes pulled down sadly at the corners, and he knelt beside me, returning to his former placid state. "I'm sorry for startling you, but the thought of anyone doing anything to hurt you, it makes me-" He stopped short, clenching and unclenching his fists. "It makes me sick to think about it."

I know he meant the idea of Paul touching me made him sick, but I couldn't help but think that I made him sick. If he knew how eager I was to sleep with my step-father, he wouldn't feel any sympathy for me.

"Do you want to spend the night with us?" Yoko asked.

Before I could respond, the phone rang, and John lept up to answer it. I watched in rapt horror, praying that it wasn't Linda or Paul hunting me down.

"Hello?" He paused, listening. "Yeah, she's here, why?" Pause. "Where are they going?" John glanced over at me, nodding once. "Yeah, you can come and get her."

I started breathing heavy, nearly hyperventilating. "Was that them? Did you tell Paul to come and get me?"

"What, no, of course not. It was Keith Richards."