On the Wings of a Beatle

Three - All Thing Must Pass Away

The boys went their own ways after that. John went to go change out of his mangled suit and try to reason if it were even worth attempting to repair as well as tend to the welt Paul had given him. George, who really didn't enjoy the sight of blood and wanting to figure out how he knew Olivia, retreated to his and Paul's bedroom in the suite. Ringo opted for something more leisurely and parked himself in front of the television set in the next room. Paul, even twenty minutes later, was still holding a cloth to Olivia's head to see if the blood flow would stop. "Remember when I said ye wouldn't have to go to hospital?"

"Yeah?"

"I might've lied..." Paul sighed. "What were ye doin' in that alley any road?"

"I'm um...not really sure..."

"Uh-huh, likely story." Paul rolled his eyes. Olivia bit her lip, unsure of how to tell Paul that within the next fifty years, two of his best friends would be dead and would be the reason that she was even in the same room as his younger self. Was that a thing that even happened? Or should she take the easy route and just say she was from the future. At least that would explain her clothes and whatnot. Was she even aloud to tell them? Then again she felt as though she were going to burst if one of the men living in this suite didn't know. "Ye were probably stalkin' us..." He grumbled.

"I swear to you I wasn't!" Olivia argued.

"Another likely story."

"You wouldn't believe the truth even if I told it to you."

"Try me." Paul said leaning around her to show the serious and unamused look on his face.

"Are you sure? It's kinda far out."

"When you see and hear some of the things we do just being The Beatles, trust me, nothing could be that far out." Paul retorted.

"Alright, your funeral." Olivia sighed. After a forty-five minute explanation, with Paul only responding with an occasional question, her story was told. "That's how I got into the alleyway."

Paul was silent for a moment, trying to take in all the details. In seventeen years' time, his best mate would be murdered in cold blood in America. Another twenty-one years after that, and the man he considered to be like his little brother would be cold and dead of cancer. Then along comes this girl, who just happens to have them both as her guardian angels, and out of an act of last resort, takes her own life, and is sent back to the sixties by John's spirt himself. It didn't make a lick of sense to him, but at the same time, he strangely decided it was far enough out there to be believable. "Ye know what..." Paul started slowly after much too long of a pause. "I believe ye."

"You do?"

"Yeah...I've heard some barmy shite in my time, but that's the most of all of them. Just far out enough to be believable." Paul chuckled pulling the cloth away from her head. "Good news, the blood's stopped."

"And it only took thirty-seven tea bags." Olivia laughed.

Paul laughed as well. "Good thing tea is more abundant over 'ere than America. Go clean yerself up in mine and George's bathroom, then ye can get a little shut eye, ye look exhausted."

She smiled and turned around to face Paul, who was removing the gloves stained in blood from his hands. "Thank you Paul." She smiled before kissing his cheek in gratitude, before strolling off. Paul smiled softly, blushing ever so slightly at the small spark that jolted in his cheek. He kept his eyes trained on her ass as she walked away and sighed contempt to himself when she was gone.

"Well that was a show." Ringo spoke from behind the island in the kitchen area, munching on the last of his bag of popcorn.

"How long have ye been sitting there...?" Paul asked a little warily, he may have believed everything Olivia just told him, but it wasn't likely any of the other lads would.

"Long enough to hear almost the whole story." Ringo said walking around with the trash can to make Paul's clean up easier. "Pretty wild one at that."

"So what do ye make of it?"

"I'm not sure if it's the lack of sleep talking, or my hunger, but I think I'm with ye on this one Paul, she's tellin' the truth, she is." Ringo spoke taking a seat across from Paul.

"I dunno...part of me is wishing that it's all just a made up fantasy of a delusional person. I mean if it's all true, then Johnny only has another seventeen years left before he's gone..." Paul paused for a moment before growing angry. "And George...god fuck it all, cancer! Why the fuck did it have to be cancer?!"

"Paul..."

"It took away me mum Rings, it took her away when I was much too young it did. And it's going to take him too...take him much too young, but there's not much we can do about it."

"And why not?!"

"It could just be fate, if not one day the next, it's a heartbeat, we'll never be ready. Besides, can't prolong the inevitable." Paul said with a sigh.

Ringo was silent for a moment, he had never seen Paul so down before. He was a mess. "Paul..." Ringo started after a long pause. "Take it from a man who stared death straight in the face as a child...nothing is set in stone." With that Ringo got up and left the room. Paul sat there a moment, unsure of what to do with himself. Could she possibly save them? Was Oliva sent back to warn them?