If You Believe (George Harrison/Beatles FanFic)

Chapter 19

John drove Annie home and escorted her to the front door. "All yours from here on in," John told her. "Now don't go bein' a batty girl. Stand up and tell George what's on your mind. And for fuck's sake, tell him you're pregnant."

"I did. In the hospital. But he doesn't remember."

"Well, tell him the fuck again. What's the stall for?"

Annie shrugged. "I keep waiting for the perfect time."

"That," John assured her. "Will never happen. Face it. Besides, you're not telling him you have leprosy. You're telling him something wonderful....something he wants to hear." John took her cold hands in his to warm them up and connect with her. "Annie, you're hormonal. Cut yourself a break, tell George what you need to tell him and get a good night's sleep. Then call Uncle John in the morning. Remember, you were beaten up and traumatized too. Have a good strong hit of hot tea and throw a scone down your throat. You'll feel better."

"Thank you for rescuing me," Annie said sincerely. "There was no one else I wanted to call."

"That makes me feel really good, Annie. I'm glad. You need me, just send up the smoke signals." John kissed her forehead and opened the front door for her. "Goodnight, Mom." And he disappeared into the night.

Annie walked into the foyer and closed the front door, locking it securely. She stood there for a long time, just trying to warm herself, then took the winter coat John gave her and placed it on a chair. Her body was so cold, she thought she'd never warm up.

"Annie? Annie?" She heard George's worn but hopeful voice travel down the hallway.

"It's me," she answered. "I'm just getting out of my coat." As she stepped forward, George's drawn face appeared around the corner, his body slightly bent forward from his waist, obviously in pain.

"Why did you run away?" he asked in a soft voice. "Where were you that you couldn't call me just so I'd know you were okay? And who brought you home?"

"Come on George. Let's just get upstairs and get you into bed. You look very tired," she replied wearily.

"No," he snapped. "Answer my questions."

"I will. I promise. As soon as we get upstairs, you're in bed and I'm warmed up." Annie stepped closer and hugged him gently, careful not to press into his chest. She was expecting a return hug, but it was more of a dismissive pat on the back. Now she knew she had hurt him by running out of the door, but she just couldn't help it. It was a knee-jerk reaction to seeing Steven disheveled, messy, unclean, and dead behind the eyes. He was always so fastidious and now he was probably looking at attempted murder and prison time. It was just like her to try to find some sympathy for him, but there was none. There was, however, deep feelings of contempt, aversion and disgust. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt hatred as well. Hatred of who he was and what he had done to change her, what he had done to the one man she truly loved. Annie knew if she had to, she'd return to Steven in order to protect George. Steven could abuse her, taunt her, shame her, but he couldn't take George away from her, out of her soul.

Annie felt George's arms tighten around her and his lips touch her neck. He probably didn't understand her and why she ran, but Annie knew he loved her, faults and all.

"Let's go," George whispered to her. "I've really had enough today but I want to tell Da you're home. He was very worried and had gone out looking for you. I suppose we should call the police too. They are out looking for you as well."

"I'm sorry, George. I'm so sorry," she said beginning to tear up. "You go to bed. I'll tell Da and call the police."

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