Dizzying Heights (John Lennon X Fem Reader)

❃Regretful Travels❃

buckle back in, it's gonna be wild

Some time in December of 1960

John has had enough of this. All of his friends, except Stu of course, were back home in Liverpool. With no money for food, he needed to make a decision: get a "real" job, stay with the other local bands, or trek back home. He decided to leave Hamburg.

John called Mimi every day once his friends left. He was so alone, but he couldn't just call (Y/n), he needed to make it special. He told her he was on his way back home, and to keep it a secret in case anyone asked. Most definitely a secret from (Y/n). He wanted to surprise her for Christmas.

Stu was with his girlfriend, Astrid Kirchherr... She took photographs and he painted. The couple stayed in Hamburg, even moved in together.

They were happy. John was happy for them, but he wanted that for himself too. John wanted to be happy, happy with (Y/n).

Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. It wasn't even a word for him at this point. He felt so alone. He felt selfish even, for wishing that he could have been as happy as Astrid and Stu.

He couldn't wait to see (Y/n) It was one of the only things that kept him on his way home. He was sick of keeping his mistakes in the city. He wanted the rain and snow to keep him clean from the dirt, the soot, the past.

He returned from Hamburg with the clothes on his back, what little money he had left, and his music. The amplifier became a backpack, among other luggage, and he was on his way. Had he ever really been this tough shell? John Lennon, the now false king of bandritry to the Liverpudlian streets. Lawless. Alone. Shattered.

He felt so... so lost. So unwanted, unneeded.

He longed for home. To see his aunt again instead of the weekly telephone call. To see (Y/n), and hopefully stay hers. It was all he could hope for.

It may have felt like forever, but he finally made it. With two days to spare.

Unbeknownst to him, George had spent days trying to get a hold of John. Nobody knew if he had left or was still playing in Hamburg. George called Stu, and found that he should be on the train or docks by now. All Stuart knew was that he was gone, but reassured the younger fellow that John was fine.

Walking off the boat by the docks, he officially arrived.

Merseyside. Liverpool. Home.

John passed a small street band on the corner, and heard them play a cover of Sea of Love by Phil Phillips. The first 45 vinyl (Y/n) gifted him with. He felt the hurt but comfort in the song as the notes flowed throughout the port.

John wondered what exactly he could do to make it up to her. He had to, especially after practically abandoning her for his music, and then again when running around the town with other girls. Besides, coming back to surprise her would mean something, it had to. He felt as though that was almost shallow. His mere presence being enough to excuse himself for what he had done? No, he had to make it special.

As he turned the corner, he spotted George walk out of a nearby sandwich shop down the empty street. Quite sullen, the younger man met eyes with John and lit up. His delighted expression lasted only a few seconds, as it his eyes went sad again. They practically ran to each other.

John hugged George as if it was his dying wish, the way a child clings to its mother, as if in an instant the other man could disappear forever. He needed to feel human again, and this contact brought him back down to reality in a flash.

"It's okay...It's okay...you're back, everything's fine," the younger man reassured him, giving John's back a small but meaningful pat.

John, embarrassed of his sudden action, grew red in the face and wiped his stinging, tearful eyes.

"Come, y-you have to sit down," George motioned to a nearby bench as he split the sandwich he just bought. John stared at its dull brown packaging as the other man untied the twine holding it together with a slight frown.

"Bacon 'n chip butty—all fixings."

John finally spoke.

"Even malt?" he sniveled.

"Yes, even malt," George grinned, handing him a little over half.

Although he's usually never one to share, George knew he could get a sandwich any other time. Besides, John certainly looked starved.

John tried to smile back at him, but it ended up all wonky so he just gave up and took a bite of the sandwich, certainly looking the part of "defeated young man back from his disappointing travels."

When was the last time he had a good meal anyways? He didn't care. All he had before him was his friend and a godforsaken butty. What more could he want?

(Y/n). She was all he could ever want now.

George told him everything.

sorry if i went overboard with the butty speak, but we're talking about George here! to fans of 'em you know its all sandwiches, eh?

The picture is of a dock in Liverpool. I do not own the pictures, I only edited them.