𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘦.

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗.

T/W: Suicidal thoughts and actions.
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They planned this in secret for two months. John picked the state, Ringo was working on how to bring everything and what they needed, Paul was trying to come up with ways to convince their parents, and George was thinking of all the extra details.

By late May, they had the whole thing under their belt. They will go to Illinois, where George's sister was going to college and she could let them stay with her until they had enough money for at least a crappy apartment room. They will only pack their instruments, food, and everything else they needed. They have enough money for four plane tickets to New York, and they'll use the leftovers for a train ride to Springfield.

-

Paul walked back to his house, his mother's house. He had a huge knot in his stomach, not knowing what to feel. What if James didn't even open the door for him?

But he had to. He needed to tell his father. He sighed, fixed his hair, and knocked on the gray door. Instead of his dad or even Mike, his aunt opened the door.

"Auntie! Hullo! Can I see dad?"

His aunt raised his eyebrow, "Paul, so good to see you! I thought you knew about the incident...." she suddenly looked very embarrassed. "I'm just here to watch house and Mike."

He suddenly got very anxious, "He didn't tell me anything, what happened?"

She looked even more embarrassed and now ashamed. "He checked himself into a mental hospital. I don't know what happened, all he said was that he wanted to kill himself, but couldn't because he didn't want to fail you and your brother more than he already has, so he went there to get better."

Paul bursted into tears on the spot, he couldn't hold it in anymore. He wished him dead, and he almost got his wish. What if he did commit suicide, and the last thing he ever said to his dad was something so horrible and disgusting?

"Mike is with his grandparents for the weekend. I'll take you to see your father if you want."

Wiping his tears, he nodded.

-

His aunt spoke to a doctor, and the doctor came back with James. Surprisingly, he looked better. He was a little fuller, yet still not enough to put him into a healthy weight. He looked cleaner too, like he had the longest and most relaxing shower in the world.

They stared at each other, standing face to face. Paul desperately wanted a hug, but he felt too embarrassed to even look at James in the eye.

"So, um..." his voice came out slow and in a beat. "What happened after I left?..."

James moved around like an uncomfortable toddler. "Well, I brought a bottle of Jack and cut my wrist with the blade." Paul looked down, tears already beginning to form. "When I was really drunk, I guess I had a realization that I was a crappy father and being miserable won't bring Mary back. So I called your aunt and brought myself here. I didn't want you to lose another parent, but I knew you already did, so I'm bringing one back."

I don't know what to say...

Paul didn't look up, but his father knew what his question was. "It's not bad here, really. Of course, some people yell and hit walls, but not everyone does that. The people here are mostly depressed, but nobody is crazy. We're all sick, but the people here just need some more help. I need more help, and I'm getting it here. The nurses are kind. They make sure I don't hurt myself, feed me, they're helping me."