And I Love Her (Paul McCartney) (COMPLETE)

Chapter 1

*Casady's POV*
October 15, 1963

As usual, the weather in England is chilly and the sky is gray. The wind has picked up and passes around the many people walking on the streets of Liverpool.
My jeans and flannel shirt are keeping me warm, but not warm enough. Tears streak down my face as I keep running. Running far away. Far away from Jonathan. Jonathan has beat me until I can't take it and I'm finally running away. I should've known better and ran away sooner.
I am doing a great job of not running into people so far until I actually decide to look back. I run headlong into someone and I am knocked over.
"I'm so sorry, miss, are you alright?" It's a guy about my age, maybe older, so about 22. He has hair that is combed into a moptop fashion and big doe eyes. He is tall and thin and still standing. He reaches out his hand to help me up. I quickly take it and jump up.
"I'm fine."
"Are you running from something? Or someone?"
"Yeah, someone." I say and sob into my hands.
"Come on, love. I will take care of you." He says sweetly and puts an arm around my shoulders, leading me in the opposite way of which I was running. "Whats your name?"
"Casady Mason."
"I'm Paul McCartney."
We walk and talk until we reach what I assume is his house. It is a nice house at the edge of Liverpool in a pretty neighborhood. He leads me inside to a beautiful place with nice furniture everywhere and a grand piano toward the center of the living room.
"Paul this is awesome, but i really feel like I'm gonna be a distraction." I say as he turns to face me.
"Believe me, dear. You're not gonna be a distraction. I'm only helping you because i want to. I know that I don't have to, but I'm going to, whether you like it or not."
"Paul, really, I-"
"Casady, stop. I'm not gonna hurt you or kill you or whatever you're running from. I'm gonna help you. I will need you to help me by letting me help you, though."
I finally give in and sigh. "Okay. So, Paul, I have never met you, I don't know anything about you at all. I wanna know you better. Could you tell me about your life?"
"Yeah, I will do that after I make tea."
"Can I help? I make mine a certain way, but I'll teach you."
"Sure. Come on." He motions for me to follow him to what I assume is the kitchen. He gets two cups down and fills the kettle before putting it on the stove. I find a tray that has 3 different kinds of tea in it- black tea, peppermint, and chamomile.
"What kind of tea do you have?"
"I always have black with a ginger cube in it. What about you?"
"I have peppermint but I add a little bit of honey and cocoa powder."
"I've made something like that before. That's how John likes it."
"John?"
"My best friend and bandmate. Have you heard of the Beatles?"
"Yeah, my best friend is obsessed with George. I will admit he is adorable but it's Paul I like."
"Thanks." Paul smirks. Of course I know about the Beatles.
"No problem. Yeah, I know about you guys. I just really didn't want to come off as a crazy fangirl or anything. But yeah, I'm a big fan."
"Thank you." He smiles his beautiful smile and pours the steaming water into the cups. I slide the two tea bags across the counter and he dips them in their cups. He reaches to a jar and takes out of small orange cube. A ginger cube. He also takes out cocoa powder and peppermint sweetener.
"This alright?" He asks after he finishes preparing the tea. I sip it and die, going to heaven.
"This is amazing. Thanks."
"I want to hear about your life, too Casady." I slightly cringe at the thought of telling my life story to someone I just met. Truth is, my life story is sad to tell and the thought brings me to tears. "If you don't want to, you really don't have to. I don't want to pressure you or anything."
"No it's fine, it's just that the thought of my parents is what scares me."
"Dont say anything if you don't want to. Seriously."
"I'm serious, I'll be fine."
"Alright, then. Follow me." He leads me back into the living room and I sit on the couch while he sits in a chair across from me.
For the next hour we talk about our lives- how his mum died when he was only 14 and lived with his dad Jim and brother Mike until he was 20 and became an official Beatle, and how my parents were arrested after they nearly beat me to death and left me with my boyfriend Jonathan's family. They were good to me until I turned 19. Jonathan beat me, his dad beat me, and his mum verbally abused me to the point where I thought of dying secretly. I was so hated that I started hating myself and cut myself repeatedly, but I don't tell Paul about that. I finally stopped 3 weeks ago and now I'm here with Paul. By the end of my explanation in am sobbing into Paul's arms.
"I'm so sorry, love. I'm so, so sorry. I promise with everything that it will never happen again as long as I'm here. I promise." He coos softly into my ear as his arms wrap tightly around me. I pull away and he wipes away the tears with his thumb and holds my head in its original place.
"Things like this can't be promised, Paul! They can't!"
"Yes they can, Casady. You know why? Because I will protect you if you just stay with me." I stop everything and stare at him.
"Stay with you?"
"Yes. I picked up that you don't have a place of your own, so I want you to stay with me."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!! I don't think in can thank you enough!" I throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him as tight as I can.
"Its no problem at all, Casady. It's only good thing you're beautiful and understanding."
"I'm understanding but I'm not beautiful."
He stops and stares at me with a blank expression.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm not."
He doesn't say anything. Instead he leans in and kisses me. I am shocked and don't start to react until he pulls away. I stare at him wide eyed and my hand lightly touching my lips.
"I knew I shouldn't have done that." He says and gets up, trying to walk away. I stand up and grab his wrist.
"Paul, I didn't say anything about not liking it." A smile curls upon my lips as does his. I let go of his wrist and he motions for me to follow him down the hallway.
"Your room is right here and there is a connected bathroom. My room is up the hall if you need me during the night. You alright?"
I nod, knowing it is already 9:30 pm.
"Well, I'm going to bed then. Goodnight, Casady."
"Goodnight, Paul."
He retreats to his room and I go to mine. I turn back to Paul when I realize I don't have anything to sleep in or change into tomorrow.
"Paul, wait!"
"Yeah?"
"I don't have anything to sleep in. Do you have just a shirt or something?"
"Yeah, I'll be right back." He goes into his room and comes out a moment later with a big t-shirt that has a Beatles logo on it. I laugh.
"What?"
"You're on the shirt."
"Go to bed!" He says sarcastically and throws the t-shirt at my face. I laugh even harder but I manage to say goodnight before going back into my room. I fall on the bed and instantly fall close my eyes. When I open them, I have the blankets up to my chin and I'm lying on my side.
I turn toward the door and see Jonathan with his unmistakable black spiked hair and tanned skin. He has a black leather jacket on and his arms are crossed. He has an angry expression and is breathing heavily.
"Why'd you run away from me, little girl? And how did you find a Beatle?" He asks, moving towards my bed.
"Jonathan? How did you find me?"
"Easy. I saw you run into him and then I followed you back here. Simple. Now answer my question. Why'd you run away?"
"Y-you hurt me."
"I hurt you? To hell with that! I'm your boyfriend! I have dominance over you!I will do whatever the fuck I want to you!"
"Paul!" I shout and throw back the blankets.
"Calling for your precious Paulie, huh? Go find him."
I spring up from the bed and run past him. I open Paul's bedroom door and he is sound asleep.
Or so I think.
"Paul wake up!! Please! I need help!" He doesn't move, even when I shake his shoulder. When I pull my hand away, I look to the side of his stomach and see the white blanket stained a dark red. My hand is bloodstained. "Paul?"
"He's gone, sweetheart. It won't be too long before you join him." He pulls out a knife and advances towards me.
"Casady! Casady!" Someone is shouting my name and I'm being shaken. My eyes bolt open and I see Paul shaking me awake. I sit upright and realizing that I am crying and trembling violently with fast breathing.
"Casady, are you okay? Nightmare?"
"Nightmare!" I collapse into Paul's embrace and cry into his shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"All I want to say is that it was Jonathan. No more."
"Alright, it's okay. Youre with me. It's okay. I'm not letting you go. Ever. I promise."
I nod and pull away where he wipes away the tears once again with his thumbs. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you. That, my love, is a promise."
"Thank you." I say softly and this time I lean in to kiss him. He starts to leave but I catch his arm. "Paul, can you stay with me tonight?"
"Yeah, sure." He lays next to me and wraps his right arm around me as I lay my head on his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat to put me to sleep.
The next morning I wake up and find Paul still next to me from last night. I look up towards his face and notice he is already awake.
"Morning, love. Sleep well?"
"Yeah, after you came in. God I hate him so much."
Paul must've known what I meant right away because he shut up, closing his eyes and leaning back against the headboard with a sigh.
"I hate the bastard for trying to hurt you. You're tall, thin, muscular, all things he didn't think of you. Why didn't you fight back."
"He wasn't working alone, Paul. His dad helped him. I was held back by Damien while Jonathan hurt me."
"Oh."
"Don't you dare pity me. I hate it."
"I don't want to pity you. All I wanna do is kill the guy. Would you allow me, Casady?" He asks sarcastically.
"That depends. Don't leave any marks." I reply just as sarcastically. He laughs and I start to get up to shower.
"I really gotta take a shower. And also I don't have any clothes and I'm never going back to his house to get any, so I'm gonna go out today and get some clothes, if that's okay."
"Actually, there's no need."
"What do you mean?" He motions for me to lay back down so I assume it's gonna be a story or explanation. I lay back down and snuggle back into his arms.
"I had a cousin who was the same age as me. Her name was Katherine, or Kate as she only allowed me to call her. I was in high school at the time, so I still lived with my dad and brother at my childhood home. Kate was actually walking to my house from hers to spend the week while her parents were away in South America for their anniversary. Kate was an only child so she was walking alone. On the way here, with her two cases in hand filled with her stuff that she would need for the next week, out of nowhere, these 2 guys were reported to have grabbed ahold of her and she dropped her bags on the sidewalk. They raped her and killed her that day, September 26, 1956. I came looking for her a few hours after it happened because she was late and I found her bags on the sidewalk outside the neighborhood. I, however, didn't ever find her. I never saw her again. Not even at her funeral. I couldn't." He explains slowly, remembering things as he went along. "I took her stuff back home with me and hid them in my room. My dad and brother never found out, and neither did anyone else. We are the only two who know."
"Paul, I'm so sorry. I assume you and her were really close?"
"More then you know. She was a beautiful girl, like you. She looked very similar to you, with the dirty blonde hair, baby blue eyes, tall, thin, muscular, and she was extremely smart. She was invited to Imperial College at 14. She turned it down though. Too young and she wanted to finish high school first." He smiles a little and chuckles the slightest bit. I draw small patterns on his warm, bare chest.
"I'm so sorry. I really am."
"It's better now. That was 8 years ago. I mean, I'm still sensitive on the subject but otherwise it's behind me. Now I've got you, Casady, and that's all I really care about."
"I'm so glad I met you."
"Me too. Know, you go shower and I'll make breakfast." He says and I get up and out of his hold on me. "I'll be right back with some clothes. They should fit you."
"Thanks, Paul." He nods and walks out while I walk into the bathroom and look at my reflection in the mirror. 'God, I really need to shower.' I say to myself and go to the shower cube. The bathroom is huge, unlike what I would have thought for a spare bedroom, complete with a shower, Jacuzzi tub, toilet, double vanity sinks, and a closet in the corner.
I turn the shower on and wait for it to get hot. I strip out of the shorts and Beatles shirt I wore last night and stepped into the hot, steamy atmosphere of the shower and let the hot water pour over the aching muscles in my body.
After rinsing everything out of my hair and washing my body off, I turn the shower off and step out, where there are a small, folded pile of clothes and a towel. I assume Paul put them there, but I guess I never heard him come in.
I quickly dry off and put on the new clothes. There is a flannel shirt similar to mine, black jeans, a bra, and underwear. I put my wet hair up in a towel turban, something Jonathan's mum actually taught me one of the few times she was ever nice to me. I go to the sink and already find the woman's essentials- deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste, hair brush, and even a small pallet of makeup. How thoughtful.
I take the turban off and run the brush through my hair before brushing my teeth, neglecting the makeup for today. Once my hair is somewhat combed through and dry, I walk through the hallway and immediately smell bacon, eggs, and waffles. An unmistakable and beautiful aroma.
"Something smells good!" I say in a sing song voice as i walk into he kitchen. Paul is at the stove, dividing the breakfast onto two plates. He smiles when I come towards him.
"I see you found the stuff I laid our for you, sweetie." He says in a motherly tone which makes me laugh.
"Yes, thank you. I didn't know you could cook like this. I'm impressed."
"Why?"
"When I lived with Jonathan i had to cook every night QND I always got the smallest serving, which wasn't much. Everyone else had a feast per plate."
"Good thing you got away from them when you did. You would've starved." He says, handing me a plate full of food.
"Yeah, I know. I've got you to worry about now."
"Alright, love, if anything I'm worrying about you." He says partially with sarcasm. I take the plate and follow the doe eyed boy to the table to eat. Throughout breakfast we talk about stuff ranging from the band to making cheese curds, or fried cheese.
"Casady, I'm telling you! It's harder than it looks!! There's like breading then there's some kind of frying thingy and then you finally get it, but I don't!" He cries sarcastically.
"Paul, it's easier than it sounds! And it doesn't take that long!" I try to reassure the poor guy but it simply doesn't work. We both finished but we stay sitting at the table laughing.
"Thats where you're wrong." He says, suddenly calm. I laugh and drop my head onto the table, sighing loudly. "I'm just kidding!" He finally gets up and takes his plate. He reaches for mine but I stop him.
"I'll get it. I'm not completely helpless."
"Okay, then. I get help with dishes." I couldn't help hut notice how clean he keeps his flat. All of the dishes are put away in cupboards, all books in the living room are stacked on shelves, all of the beds are made in the morning. I put the plate and silverware in the sink for him to wash and he hands things off one by one for me to dry and put away in its designated spot.
Within minutes we are done and laying on the couch watching the Wizard of Oz. I am curled up in Paul's arms and he is stroking ny hair softly. I wish I could do something to repay him for what he has done for me, but I can't think if anything more meaningful in someone's life than what he has done for me. He has gotten me away from Jonathan, a place to stay, clothes, food, everything I can ask for at this time. I don't know what I can do for him.
I guess I fell asleep in the middle of the movie because I wake up to the sleeping Paul, still on the couch. The screen on the TV is the fuzzy image when a movie has run out of film on the tape. Paul's arms are still wrapped securely around me but not enough that it will hold me in place. I carefully wriggle out of his arms and look at the clock on the wall. 1:39 pm. Almost past normal lunch time. I go back into what is considered my room and find it how I left it, but when I open the closet, there are shirts and dresses hung up on either side of the wide closet. I run to the dresser and open the drawers. They are filled with more clothes, including skirts, shorts, pants, and other undergarments, including a folded up volleyball jersey and a few pairs of spandex. Finally someone else in 1964 who plays volleyball besides me.
I smile to myself and spot something out of the corner of my eye. There are two bags, appearing to be stretched, both a black leather, sitting side by side on the floor next to the desk. I walk to them and find a tag on it that says a name.
Katherine McCartney.
Below it is her phone number and address. It also has a picture of her on the back.
She could be the spitting image of me.
She has equally dirty blonde hair as me, the exact same blue eyes, she is tall and thin, just as Paul described her, and muscular. You could tell it was a McCartney even though she was blonde with blue eyes instead of doe eyes and dark brown hair. The picture is in color and I can tell the tone of her skin- somewhat tan yet pale. She was wearing a beautiful dress that was a blue and purple collision with a pearl band around the waist. She had a white flower in her hair and was smiling widely. I see a young Paul in the background, peeking over her shoulder. He was wearing a nice suit with his hair in an Elvis style. He must have been taking her out.
"It was prom." I hear Paul say behind me. I turn around and he has a slight smile on his face. He walks over and sits on the bed, which he must have made this morning as well.
"She is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. And you're right, she looks just like me. More beautiful, though."
"Yes, she's beautiful indeed. But you outdo her by far."
"No I don't."
"Would you stop?" He raises his voice, agitated.
"What?"
"Saying you're not. You are, that is final, no argument. You're putting yourself down by saying that and I hate it. Because you are amazing. You are strong, visually and mentally beautiful. This, I promise, is the only time I will demand something. Tell me you believe me." His voice scared me a little raised, but I hold back what tears have yet to spill.
"I believe you. I'm sorry, I've just always been told that I'm not. And I have a confession, but I can't tell you." I say with a little pain in my voice.
"What?" His tone hasn't changed.
I take a deep breath and lift up the sleeves of the plaid shirt, revealing faint red scars from my wrists to mid-forearm. Paul's expression changes as quickly as a gunshot.
"Oh my God. Casady, you didn't."
"I did." He takes my arm in his hands and stares at each one. I expect him to be mad and shout at me, but it's quite the opposite. He takes my hand and leads me to the bed. I sit next him and he takes both arms and bows his head. The tears from before start to well up and I know they will eventually fall out.
"Why?" Paul's voice comes out as a mere whisper.
"Take a look at my life."
He doesn't say anything but instead plants kisses up my arms, on each scar, as if kissing them would makes them ultimately disappear from my arms. The tears spill over and quickly run down my cheeks. They drop on my arms near Paul's head. He looks back up to me with teary eyes.
"I'm really sorry, Paul. I couldn't take the depression any longer." I stop myself before I say anything about the near-suicide attempts. He shakes his head.
"Dont be sorry. Katherines sister Lauren went through this after the- you know." I nod and I put my forehead on his.
"I stopped 3 weeks ago. I promise it will never happen again. That's a real promise."
"I know. I'm sorry for snapping earlier. I just hate when you do that." He pulls on my shoulders and into his loving embrace. I nuzzle my face into his warm neck and plant a small kiss above his collarbone.
"Promise you'll never leave me, Casady."
"I promise with my life, Paul. I promise."