John The Ripper

Chapter 6- Hide Your Head

Paul jumped up in fright, twisting his head and stared at John.

Martha began to bark and howl at him fiercely as if he was attacking his owner. But he wasn't. He was merely leaning over Paul and Martha with a wide grin like he had been standing there forever. But he literally just fucking appeared there.

"John!" Paul gasped.

"Evening Macca" John greeted, then frowned at the wild Martha Paul was currently straining in his arms.

"What're you...uhm...doin' in 'ere?" Paul asked, holding Martha's collar, trying to sooth the large dog. "Shh, darling, shh.."

John bent over, laying his arms on the couch and eyed the younger man intensely.

"Heard noises. Its quite late isn't it?"

"Hm yeah, should, uh, probably get back to bed. Martha doesn't seem to like you" Paul chuckled nervously then studied his dog. She's usually so kind with people. Something about John clearly didn't sit right with her. And it made Paul feel very....uneasy.

Did he do something to his dog???

"M' not very good with animals" John shrugged. He reached over, attempting to pet her head, but Martha barked before he even touched her, making him return his hand quickly.

"Whoa, easy there girl..."

She continued to growl at John, like she didn't trust him. Paul didn't know what to think at this moment.

"So, Paul" He looked up to see him John laying his chin on his hands.

"Hm?"

He didn't answer right away so Paul took his eyes off Martha for a moment to see him glaring.

"Yes?"

"Why 're you awake?" He asked, softly.

"I dunno, I jus' woke up and I wanted to check on Martha"

John nodded absently, turning his gaze away from the younger lad and stared at the wall behind him with a black face.

"How long 'ave you been awake?" Paul's question brought his back.

"Not long at all" He spoke. "Mind making tea?"

"Tea??" Paul cocked his head. At this hour? Well, it would help him go back to bed, he supposed...

"Okay" He shrugged, sitting up. "Martha, stay girl" He pointed a finger warningly at the dog who was sitting on the couch, eyes still lodged on John's figure.

John chuckled and made his way up the few stairs to the door, shooting a sharp glance at Martha who yapped when John met her small eyes.

Nonetheless, she sat on the couch like a good girl while watching the two boys disappeared up the stairs.

"Long night" John groaned, sitting on a wooden chair in the kitchen.

"Storm keepin' you up?" Paul asked, heating up the water while searching in cabinets for two small cups.

"Sure" John shrugged.

Paul turned around briefly, noticing his bloodshot eyes, a small flash of worry through his own hazel ones.

"Well, a nice warm cuppa would help you sleep" Paul smiled and leaned back against the counter.

John met his eyes and grinned, sitting back on the chair while crossing his arms.

"Oi, John?" Paul asked, frowning a bit and leaning forward.

"Hm?"

"Why're ya wet?" He asked curiously, now noticing the auburn hairs were stuck wetly to his forehead, the black long sleeve he was wearing also slightly dripping. Strange how he didn't notice before.