In My Life

Chapter 8: Tug of War

A/N: will be mentions of suicide and I apologize for the amount of dialogue but please enjoy :)

Dr. Lennon

It took me a few moments to register in my drunken brain what Paul had just said. But when it did register, it rang in my head over and over. I stayed silent, sipping on my drink and feeling absolutely pathetic. "John?" Paul finally broke the silence, pouring a glass for himself. "Thought you were on the clock." I managed to say, without choking up or loosing my mind on him for uttering such shite to me. A more successful me? I didn't fucking think so. "Dr. Epstein told me to stay with you. So..." Paul shrugged his shoulders and took a long swig. "Oh, so you're only here on that rat bastard's orders." I spat back at him. "Yeah, John. I didn't want to see you." Paul said, being brutally honest. I didn't respond, I just sucked back my drink. "Showing up drunk to work is one thing, but coming to a hospital to be a fuckin' doctor absolutely knackered? Jesus, Lennon." Paul scolded me. "I don't need yer fuckin' speech, McCartney. You can bloody leave." I shook my head as I spoke, hoping he wouldn't actually leave. I wanted his company, I just didn't know how to show it. Not when I felt like that. "I already told you I'm not leaving, John. So shut yer smart mouth, and appreciate my company." Paul said as he plopped down on the couch beside me, shimmying his white coat off his shoulders and lying it on the couch beside him. He pulled out his cellphone, and I casually looked over his shoulder to see it. "You're very obvious, you know." Paul chuckled, showing me his phone. Multiple messages from Sadie. "She needs to calm down." I shook my head and poured another glass for myself and Paul. "She's obviously worried. Shoot her a message." Paul said, setting his phone down on the coffee table. I sighed and pulled my phone out of my pocket.

John: Sade, I'm sorry. Paul is here.. Try not to worry, I will be okay.

I hit send and showed Paul. "Happy now?" I slurred my words again, realizing just how drunk I really was. Paul only nodded, leaning back on the couch. "Can I ask you a question?" He finally said. "You just did." I smirked and leaned back beside him. "Bugger off." Paul actually let a small smile slip out of the side of his mouth, and it was captivating. "What's yer question?" I asked, watching his plump lips. "Why'd ye try to kill yourself?" Paul said quietly, making eye contact with me using his hypnotizing doe eyes.  I sighed, I should've felt uncomfortable by the question but I didn't. I felt comfortable with Paul, and I think he knew it. "It was after my mate Stuart died. I was his doctor, but I was just a resident at the time. We didn't think he was in deadly condition until I prescribed him the wrong medication. His body rejected it and he had a brain aneurysm. Like the situation we just had, that was my fault. I had to go to a mortality hearing, in which you're judged by your peers as to whether or not there was anything you've done that could've lead to the patients death. Unfortunately, my peers voted that I had fucked up, and the death of my friend was my fault." I paused to pour myself a drink, slamming it back in one large gulp and pouring myself another. Paul looked at me with patient eyes, listening intently. "I was suspended. Luckily, Stu's parents and girlfriend didn't want to sue me because they knew I didn't mean it. I was close with them. The reason Sadie is so worried is because like now, I got on the drink hard. She came over to check on me and I had overdosed on cocaine. I know, cocaine, I'm a smart doctor." I noticed how I had just began pouring my soul out to the poor man sitting next to me. "Shit I'm sorry, Paul." I said, drunk to the point of feeling sober again. "Don't apologize, John. I asked." Paul set his hand on my knee, and I felt the familiar completeness of his touch.

"This isn't like that, though. You're not at a mortality hearing, and even if you were, everybody would know you made the right call. You're insecure..." Paul observed, I stared down at his hand on my knee as his thumb began moving back and forth, rubbing my knee sympathetically. "I know it's not like that, Paul. It's just a reoccurring thing, y'know? Bad decision after bad decision. I can't be the reason any more people die. That's not why I became a doctor." I told him, not taking my eyes off his beautiful hand. Wow, was I drunk. I had never been so vulnerable with anybody before. "I know what you're saying, John. I just don't want to see you throw this away. You're shockingly good at your job, a few mistakes don't diminish that." Paul told me, about to pull his hand off my knee. I stopped him quickly and entwined our fingers. "I let you down, Paul." I mumbled, not looking at him. "You gotta get off the drink, love." My heart skipped a beat at the nickname. "You can't tell me that when you've got one in yer hand." I chuckled, trying to keep my signature Lennon attitude present. "Very true." Paul chuckled too. "So, Sadie found ye then?" Paul asked, referring back to the depressing topic of my almost-suicide. I nodded. "Aye. Came over and I was pretty much dead on the bathroom floor." I pointed to the bathroom with my cup as I spoke, not wanting to pull my other hand away from Paul's. "No wonder she's so worried." Paul said, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink. "She's a great mate." I nodded, feeling a small lump grow in my throat. "She loves you a lot." Paul told me, as if to convince me. "Not sure why. I've caused trouble for her, much more trouble than she deserves." I almost argued with him. My phone buzzed.

Sadie: I love you, you daft sod.

I smiled at the message and felt the lump in my throat grow. "You okay?" Paul asked, squeezing my hand. I flashed the text at him and he smiled. "Told ye." He said, smugly. "Why aren't you two together?" Paul asked, almost awkwardly considering we had been holding hands. "I think you know why, Paul." I began slurring my words again. "We tried dating when I started at Sgt. Pepper's, I was completely in love with her. But we grew so close, y'know, working together, that she became like a sister to me. I'd be gone without her." I sighed as I spoke, pouring another drink. "Slow down the drinks, John love." Paul smiled as he took the glass out of my hand and set it down on the table. "What are your intentions, here?" I blurted out, too drunk to care at that point. "Uh, I'm not sure I know what you mean." Paul played dumb. "Come off it, McCartney. What's this about?" I said, holding up our hands. "'Mm." Paul grunted and pulled his hand away from mine. "Well? I want to bloody know!" I said, almost a stammering drunk. "Drop the arse hole Dr. Lennon act, it's not going to work on me." Paul shot me down, and it was almost exciting how he stood up to me. "I'm sorry, I've just never had a mate that snogs me and holds my hand." I shrugged, reaching for the glass again. Paul slapped my hand playfully. "Lay off it." He grinned. "I don't really know if I have an answer for you, John." He added, getting a bit more serious.

"You don't always need answers." Paul said, intertwining his fingers with mine again. I was taken aback by his statement. As a doctor, we always needed answers. "Whaddya mean? Paul, as doctors we're literally trained to find answers." I retorted, expecting some kind of smart ass answer. "I don't mean like that, John. I mean in real life. Stuff like this. If you're happy, if it's going well... why question it?" Paul raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm clearly not happy." I blurted out. It had nothing to do with him, in fact the only happiness I had felt was when he was near me. "We'll get you out of this." Paul smiled, and leaned in to kiss my cheek. I felt my cheeks burn a crimson red, there was that damned vulnerability again. "You're scared, aren't you?" Paul asked as he used his free hand to move hair out of my face. "No." I lied. Of course I was bloody scared. Here I was, drunk out of my mind, sitting next to my resident, who dare I say it, I was falling for. "You're scared because you've been left behind, abandoned, so many times that you're worried I'll do the same if you let me in." Paul observed. Hell, that kid could read me. "Bit up on yerself, aren't ya?" I tried to distract him from the fact that he was indeed correct. "Lennon." Paul raised both his eyebrows. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." I said, looking back over to my drink. Oh, how I wanted to drink it all. I knew Paul would object, however. "How come you've gotta be drunk to let this stuff out?" Paul asked, pulling his hand away from me and crossing his arms and legs. "I'm a bloody drunk, and I don't like showing my true colours or feelings." I admitted, successfully grabbing my drink without interruption or objection from Paul. "I don't believe that." Paul shook his head, uncrossing his arms and relaxing back into the couch. "What?" I looked at him with a puzzled expression on my drunken face. "I think you enjoy the vulnerability, the openness. You've never had that before, and I think as much as you'd hate to admit it, you're a pretty dependent person who has done everything in their power to try and seem like an independent prick who hates everybody." Paul analyzed the living shit out of me. "Are you a medical doctor or a bloody psychologist?" I said, starting to feel defensive.

"No I'm not a bloody psychologist, John. I can just read you." Paul shrugged. "You don't know everything." I argued with him. "But am I wrong?" Paul asked, shifting closer to me. "What's your deal then, Paul? You clearly know mine." I said, crossing my legs up on the couch and facing him. "Nothin'. I'm an insecure kid whose trying to be a doctor." Paul shrugged again, crossing his legs and facing me as well. "Who didn't know he was a queer?" I added, raising an eyebrow at him. "Apparently so." Paul said quietly, chuckling. He began playing with my hand, twiddling my fingers and rubbing my palm. "Guess I'm just a sucker for someone in power." He said in a hushed tone, looking down at my hands. "You should hop on Dr. Epstein's boat then, I've got no power." I chuckled, wanting nothing more than to kiss the living hell out of the younger man. "Not interested." Paul shook his head and locked eyes with me. "Are you gonna pull out of this?" He asked me, as I felt his face creep closer to mine. "Of course." I answered in a whisper. "I'm not gonna let you in either, if you're just gonna fuck off on me, or y'know, kill yerself." Paul added, looking back down at my hands insecurely. "Ah, someone else is afraid of abandonment." I tried to sound as soothing as possible as I joked with him. He let out a large sigh to let me know he was serious.

"Paul, I promise you. If you let me in, I'm never letting go."