Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which they are home

"They've got to cancel our performance,"

John had been sitting at Paul's bedside for a long time a couple days after the accident on the boat. He, George, Ringo, and Brian had gone to the rehearsal.

"What?" Paul looked up slowly.

"We went to rehearsal and they said that they'd have to let us go if we didn't have all four members of our band and you can't perform, so..." John shrugged. "Brian seems pretty beaten up about it, though."

"That's crazy," Paul said and propped himself up on his elbows. "No, ring them up. Tell them I can play! I'll manage! Listen, just, you'll sing most of the songs and George will sing and it'll be fine!"

"Paulie," John said tenderly, laying his palm on Paul's chest and pushing him down against the pillows gently. "Paulie, just lay down, okay? You are not performing until you're ready. If a doctor says that you need to stay in bed for a few weeks and let the water drain out of your lungs then you are staying in bed for a few weeks until that water drains out of your lungs."

Paul raised his eyebrows. "John,"

"No, I'm not letting you jeopardize your health for this band," John said sternly.

Paul rolled his eyes. "If anyone else was in my position you'd tell them to suck it up, get out of bed, get their guitar and get in the car. You can't discriminate. I'm not any different from everyone else."

"No, Paul, you are different," John sighed, taking Paul's hand. "You're right, okay? I would tell everyone else to suck it up. But you're not everyone else. I don't love everyone else."

Paul looked at John and smiled. "Love you, too,"

~~~

The Beatles and Brian were sent home a few days later on March seventh. The doctor from Faial said that as long as Paul remained seated as much as possible, then he would be able to manage the trip home. So Paul remained seated whenever they were waiting or on a plane, and at all other times, to Paul's absolute horror, John, George, Ringo, and Brian all insisted on pushing him around in a wheelchair.

When Paul and John, at long last, arrived back in their apartment, Paul sighed with relief as they laid down in bed. "That wheelchair was terrible. Couldn't you have let me walk around? Just a little bit?"

"No!" John said. "And you are not getting out of this bed at all for the next two weeks. You need to rest."

"What if I need to pee?" Paul questioned.

John thought about it for a few moments before answering. "Fine," he said decidedly. "We can make one small exception for the bathroom. But that is where I draw the line, Paul McCartney!" John said with a huge, playful grin.

Paul laughed.. This was so unlike John and he was still having trouble getting used to it. He wasn't sure if he would ever get used to all of this - and that's when ur hit him! He'd been waiting for weeks to get used to John acting the way he did, the way it felt to kiss John and how weird it was to be in a relationship, and now he had the realization that they would eventually have sex weighing down in his mind, and it hit him... He was never going to get used to it. He would live the rest of his life with this John, who was new and exciting and perfect and still John, and he would never ever in a million years get used to it.

John drifted off to sleep and Paul had no intention of breaking the rules set out for him for the duration of his healing process...but then he heard something in the kitchen.

He crawled away from the warmth that John provided and even managed to get himself to his feet all on his own. Then, very slowly, he walked (if you could even call it walking) into the kitchen. "Hi, Barney," he said.