temporary fix || george harrison

50%

IF YOU asked me just a few months ago what the worst break up would constitute of, it would've been that person just up and leaving now and wiping their slate clean of you. Not even leaving behind a single trace of your life intertwining with theirs. Just simply vanishing, as if you and that person had never even happened.

I could almost laugh at the thought, never imagining it would be what I was about to do. Also, leaving your lover 50 years in the past is pretty bloody terrible too. This was about to be the most horrible day of my life. 

I had to steel myself for what I was planning to do once I'd outsmarted Kronos, secured George and the rest of the boys' safety. I couldn't announce my departure, I knew full well George would bungle it to keep me here with him. Not that I blamed him of course; if he tried to leave me forever, I'd surely find a way to muck up his plans. 

Forlornly, I thought what my life would be like once I'd returned home, now that it wasn't just a possibility. Now that it was my upcoming reality. Maybe I'd return back to the very moment that I'd left, as if no time had passed at all. Or maybe I'd've been missing for years and suddenly reappeared looking as if I haven't aged a day. I'm certain that would ruffle a few feathers.

Hopefully Jack has moved on, forgetting the fact that I left him jilted at the alter. I cannot begin to even process if he'd somehow, some way, found my hiding niche back in Westminster and was just waiting for me to pop back. Waiting in his morning coat and white gold Rolex to marry me the second he laid his heartless eyes on me. 

George didn't even know about Jack, but John did. Another torturous thought for me to mull over once I'd returned back home. 

I don't know for certain what my arrival back into the future will bring, but I know what my departure from the past will. I bit my lip as I tried to shove back the thoughts of George in pain out of my head but I couldn't fully shake them away. It was selfish to get involved, it was selfish to fall in love. It was my greatest shame. But yet, it was my pride.

Another lingering thought that was bugging me to no end was John and his reluctance to hide how he feels about me when George wasn't around. He's my best friend, and he's in love with me. I felt sorry for him at times, when he watched George and I get on so well. For a time I thought he was probably relieved George and I were separated for those weeks last Christmastide. John had me all to himself- we'd even spent the holiday together. And I was right- he was. 

So many goddam secrets, I was practically drowning in the ocean of my own hypocrisy. Words felt like burning saltwater on my tongue, drying every last bit of credibility away from my mouth. 

In another lifetime perhaps, I could've loved John. I could've reciprocated his feelings. I do love John. He's closest friend I will ever have in my entire life. I was hesitant to reject him- I know there was a part of me that didn't want to have to impose that kind of hurt onto him. And there was also a part of me that shared chemistry with him, a kindred spirit. I hated the way I even had a speckle of a feeling for him but compared to what I feel about George, it's inconsequential.

I love George- it would be no contest whether or not I'd choose him. It was George in the golden  mornings, the hazy afternoons, and in the frigid nights. It was always going to be George.

"WHY IN god's bloomin' green earth would Kronos hold George hostage at our old flat in Liverpool?" Ringo cried, ripping me violently away from my consuming thoughts. Paul raged behind the wheel, racing back to Liverpool down the motorway. Paul wasn't necessarily the worst driver, but his mania overwhelmed his usual calm demeanor which had also reflected into his driving pattern.

But Paul was the only one that was capable of driving right now. John literally did not have a ticket to drive, Ringo was too shaky and I was clearly not in the right mind to be able to maneuver an automobile across the country at the moment.

"For the dramatics of it, Ringo. You all don't understand Kronos- he's not going to listen to reason or to any sense. You must all promise me to not interfere with me when I'm negotiating George's safety." I said in a strong voice, twiddling the ring softly in my hands as I do so. I could practically feel it humming with power, tuning into my racing heart, matching its beat.

My words seemed to prick all three pairs of ears in the car, John being the first and most aggressive to speak.

"Ju, if you are to believe that the lads and I will be waiting outside like some ninnies sitting on their arses you'll 'ave me properly miffed. You said so yerself- Kronos is a bad egg, it's all 4 of us stromin' the bastille or it'll just me going solo."

John made a strong argument, and I acknowledged him with a knowing look. He returned it with a somber expression, his brows knitted together in concern. I was hoping the ever keen analyzing John Lennon couldn't detect the lie I was about to feed him and the lads. 

"Fine, you all can accompany on recon for George. But let me do the talking, yeah? Let me negotiate with Kronos and you can handle the brawn if need be." I said in a shaky voice, feeling the lie scorch my lips as soon as it had passed them.

Before John could answer me and confirm the plan, Paul made a noise that was in between a growl and a sigh. 

"You, do more talking? That's bloody fantastic. Let the loony bin bird run her gob and try not to get George merked in the process. I'm positively thrilled by this plan, fat load of cheers to ya, Juliet." Paul hissed with such venom, glaring at me through the rearview mirror as I sat in the back of the car with Ringo beside me in a whole tizzy. 

I had a feeling this was coming- out of all of the lads, Paul was the least trusting. The most sus. The most wary around me as if I were a buried landmine on the battlefield. 

"And LEST WE FORGET, Juliet isn't even of our time! I think that the fact that miss bishop over 'ere is from the bloody future hasn't been adequately addressed! We aren't even touching upon tha' enough like tha' is why we're in this arse of a spot anyroad!" Paul snarled again before I or even the other two Beatles could respond to his first venomous bite. It stung to be verbally lashed by Paul this way, but I acknowledged that as melodramatic as he may be, he was right.

"I'm sorry, Paul. I'm sorry to you too John and Ringo. I should've been honest from the very beginnin', and perhaps we all wouldn't have ended up in this proper mess. I had to lie to all of you to keep you safe. I wasn't lyin' to cozy up to any of you or just to be a bitch. It was either lie and come clean and possibly wound you all once I was able to find a solution, or 'ave you all be killed by the truth." I said softly, feeling the hot prickle of tears singe my eyes, spilling over before I had a chance to wipe them away. 

I could feel three pairs of eyes on me, burning holes into my skull. Only one pair however had sights to kill.

"Ju, yer not givin' any of us credit here. I understand you thought you 'ad to lie to protect our music playin' arses but if you told us and were all the way honest, we could've 'elped you. Hell, we could've even have beaten that nasty Kronos fella to a pulp already. You don't know, ye assumed what was best for us when that wasn't yer place love. I don't want to kick you when yer down and all but maybe, this could've all been avoided." Ringo said tenderly with a soft hand to my shoulder, his tough love burned, not as much as Paul's disintegrating comments, but it was what I needed to hear. 

I was in the wrong, and I put myself here. Putting myself back where I belonged was going to make it right. 

Or I was going to die trying.