Stand By Me-A John Lennon fanfic

28

August 25th, 1964

"You're completely sure you don't want me to go back to Liverpool with you? A strong fellow like me holding your hand the whole way?" John puffed out his chest, acting all masculine as he walked Emery to her gate. She was leaving for her confirmation interview at Liverpool University. She couldn't be more thrilled, but she was also a tad nervous. How could she not be? She was being interviewed to be a professor at a college. It was a huge moment in her career.

"I think I'll be ok. Atticus Finch will mentally hold my hand." She joked.

John rolled his eyes. "You've read that book at least 10 times. Best you find a new one. Like me own book. Here's a free copy, Em." He pulled his fairly new published book, In His Own Write out of his coat pocket and handed it to Emery.

"Aw, John, thank you." She smiled. "Now I won't be needing Atticus Finch." She smiled at him, and he nodded back, very enthusiastically.

"You'll find some personal notes in that book. Best not show anyone. They're special." He told her as he hugged her goodbye.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone how much of a true softie you are." She slugged his shoulder lightly.

John shooed her off. "Yeah, yeah. Good luck, Emmy. Don't be worried. You're going to do excellent. I love you so much." He kissed her softly and sweetly.

"Thank you, John. You're my number one supporter. Love you." She waved to him as she went to her gate and boarded her plane.

...

"So, Mrs. Lennon, what are you most looking forward to in this position?" Mr. Aiden asked her.

Emery took a reassuring breath. "Well, Mr. Aiden, I am extremely looking forward to the ability to actually lector the students and enlighten them on a deeper meaning of the U.S.'s extensive history. At my old school, we didn't get too much into detail about certain events, so I am enthusiastic, if not excited, over the fact that I can properly lecture and teach these college students the values of the American people in a more serious environment." Emery finished.

Mr. Aiden nodded. "Very well. I think that's everything I had to ask you. Welcome to the staff. We're very pleased to have you here." He stood up, and so did Emery.

She shook his hand with pure delight. "Thank you very much, sir. I look forward to seeing you in September and being a part of your staff." She smiled.

Emery had a smile plastered on her face the whole ride to her and John's house.

She called him from their house phone while she tidied up the house.

"Eem." John sang.

"Hey, lovely!" She replied.

"Blimey, you're chuffed to bits. So I take it you got the job, then?" He asked her.

"Yes indeed." She nodded.

"Brilliant! Proud of you Em. Now come back to the states! We all miss you. Me, mostly, of course, but Ringo misses you too, y'know." He informed her.

"Hi, Emery!" The boys yelled from somewhere near John.

"They say hi." He told her. She giggled.

"I'll fly back tomorrow night." She assured him.

"Sound, Em. See you soon." John bid goodbye.

....

Emery knocked on John's hotel room door, daftly hoping he wasn't sleeping with some girl after a one night stand. She had to get over this worry by now. After all, her and John were married.

The door opened with a click and there stood John, bed head and all.

"Did I wake you?" She asked guiltily.

"Yes, but it's 10 am, so technically, according to the sun, I should already be awake." He smiled and pulled her into his room, embracing her and connecting his lips with her's.

"We both have bad breath, then." Emery grimaced.

John scrunched up his facial features. Then shrugged. "Oh well." He pecked her on the cheek.

"Happy your interview went well, Em." He told her as the two held each other.

"Me too, thank you, love." She smiled at him.

....

August 28th, 1964

Emery lay on her and John's hotel bed, the room silent except for the buzzing of the air conditioning vent. John and the other Beatles was out at a fairly new singer named Bob Dylan's apartment. She didn't want to intrude on their fun, because knowing them they would be up to some wild things Emery did not care to partake in. Instead, she started planning curriculum for her students, since her position at Liverpool was finalized. She was elated, and she was thrilled especially to be teaching college students who actually wanted to learn...in some way, at least.
Just then, the door opened, and John stumbled in the room.

"Hello?" Emery said, frowning with a confused look on her face. Was he drunk?
"Hi." John waved, lowering his hand and falling onto their bed with a beaming face.

"Are you ok?" She asked him, still confused. He could usually handle his bevies.

"We met Bob Dylan, and we had some weed." He told her with a giddy smile.
"That's why you smell like skunk." She wrinkled her nose at the scent.

"It was wonderful. Very enlightening." He droned, turning to look at Emery. "Hell, John, your eyes are red." Emery pointed out, moving stray hair from his forehead. "Marijuana's not good for your body." She reminded him. John groaned. "Don't tell me that after I just smoked some." He slowly moved up the bed until his head hit his pillow.
He then snuggled up to Emery and curled up into a ball. "Back up a bit, I'm going to fall off the ruddy bed." Emery pushed him slightly, but he wouldn't budge. "John. What did Bob Dylan do to you?" "Mm." John murmured.
"I'm hungry." He commented, his eyes droopy. Emery sighed and got up off the bed, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a large bag of fruit jellies. John lifted his head and his eyes lit up at the sight. "Where have you been hidin' those? George'll kill you for 'em if he finds out you have 'em." He said. "Hold out your hands." Emery told him. John put his hands next to each other in a begging motion and Emery poured a generous amount of the gummies into his hands. John immediately started dumping the jellies into his mouth. "Don't choke." Emery said. "How's it feel to be high? Finally did it after saying you've never tried it." Emery remarked. "It feels amazing." John replied simply. Emery smirked. After a few minutes, John finished his snack.
"I feel better now. Why don't we have a shag, Emmy?" He giggled. "Shag is a funny word, isn't it." Emery smiled. John nodded.
"Um, I think it's best we don't shag when you're not in a full state of mind, y'know. Let's leave it 'till tomorrow. Makes it more meaningful." She advised. John groaned. "Emery, you're no fun." He huffed. "Sorry, John." She shrugged.
"At least let me cuddle you." He said, sounding like a bargaining 4 year old. "Okk." Emery feigned annoyance but obliged, laying down as John scooted back and wrapped his arms around her.
"I really think I should spray my perfume on you." She informed him. "You're a loon." He said. Emery scoffed. "Look who's talking, pothead." She was facing him, so she saw the redness of his eyes. It looked painful. "Well you're a-a...I don't know." He said tiredly.
"Damn right you don't know. Go to sleep, Johnny. Want me to sing something?" She asked him softly. He nodded. Emery started singing "When you wish upon a star", which made John'd drooping eyes finally close. "You have a good voice. You should guest star at a concert." He muttered. "Means a lot, but I'll have to pass." She smiled, caressing his hair. "I love you." He breathed, resting his head on her shoulder. "I love you too, John." Emery rested her head on John's chest, inhaling the slight scent of laundry detergent on his shirt, the smell calming her and lulling her into slumber.