Bandom One-shots book 3

The Trial (McLennon)

I sat in the courtroom, the air thick with tension as I glanced around at the familiar faces—some I recognized from the media, others from the legal team gathered around me. The trial was finally here, and I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It was surreal, being caught in this nightmare. I had lost my best friend, and now I was facing the man responsible.

Mark David Chapman sat across the room, his demeanor unnervingly calm as he listened to the prosecution lay out the case against him. I could feel anger simmering just beneath the surface, but I had to keep it together for John. He would want me to.

As I sat there, I felt a presence beside me—a warm, familiar energy that I hadn't felt in years. I turned slightly, and there he was. John. I blinked, my heart racing. I must be losing it.

"Oi, Paul," he said, his voice echoing softly in my mind. "You're doin' alright, mate."

"John?" I whispered, hardly able to believe my eyes. "Is that really you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Just thought I'd drop in and help you through this mess," he replied, his ghostly form shimmering in the harsh courtroom light. He looked as vibrant as ever, a smile that felt like a warm embrace.

"Why now? I can't do this without you," I confessed, my voice trembling.

"Because you're stronger than you think. And you've got to remember that I'm always with you, yeah? Just keep your head up and speak from your heart," he urged, his presence filling me with a sense of calm I desperately needed.

As the trial progressed, I listened to the testimonies, the pain of loss bubbling to the surface. Each word reminded me of the joy and laughter John brought into my life, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

"Focus on the good times, Paul," John whispered, his voice soothing. "Think of all the songs we wrote, the moments we shared. Let that guide you."

When it was my turn to testify, I took a deep breath, feeling John's presence bolstering my resolve. I walked to the stand, my heart pounding. The prosecutor's questions felt like daggers, but I held on to John's spirit, reminding myself of the love that had once filled the air.

"Mr. McCartney, can you describe your relationship with Mr. Lennon?" the lawyer asked.

I paused, searching for the right words. "John wasn't just my bandmate; he was my brother," I said, my voice steadying. "We created music together, laughed together, and supported each other through everything. He was a beacon of light in my life."

I glanced over at Chapman, his expression unreadable. I felt rage bubbling inside me, but I pushed it down. "What he did was unforgivable. He took away a piece of my soul. But John wouldn't want me to dwell on that. He'd want me to celebrate the love we had."

As I spoke, I felt a warmth surrounding me, a flicker of energy that pushed away the darkness of the courtroom. I could almost hear John's laughter, feel his hand on my shoulder, reminding me that love would always triumph over hate.

In the days that followed, I kept John's spirit close to my heart. The verdict came, and while it wasn't going to bring John back, it was a step toward justice. I felt relief mixed with grief as I left the courtroom, knowing John was still with me.

"See? You did it, Paul," John said, his voice echoing in my mind. "You honored our friendship."

"I wish you were here, mate," I replied, looking up as if he could somehow hear me.

"I'll always be here," he assured me, his presence a gentle reminder that love transcends even death. "Now go write some music. I'll be listening."

With that, I walked out of the courtroom, a sense of peace washing over me. I would carry John's spirit in my heart forever, and together, we'd keep the music alive.

~Happy Birthday John Lennon~