And He Loves You: Beatles One shots and imagines

Never get to say goodbye right- Lennon (pt.2)

You sat outside of door to the room that John had been in. Sobbing silently into your pajamaed knees, there was a lot of people to call, but for the moment, this was all you where capable of. Paul had been called earlier, by the hospital workers, before John had— you couldn't even think about it.

This had to be some kind of sick dream right? This couldn't actually be happening. You'd wake up to see John laying besides you just like always. His beautifully sleepy, honey brown eyes would greet you just like any other day. The morning sunlight would reflect off of his soft shoulder length hair, and he'd wrap his arms around you and pull you close to his slender frame and kiss affectionately to say good morning as always.

Tears still streaming down your puffy, reddened face, you started to laugh, not a happy laugh, not even the kind of laugh someone has in a tense situation; it was the laugh of a madman, someone unwell. You just kept on laughing until you started to choke; you're chest was tight and you lungs hurt. You just wanted the world to stop.

You just sat there for six hours; no one moved you, no one took care of you. They just let you cry all alone as they rushed around attending to whatever business they where there on. You weren't anybody's problem, only John had been, and now there was no problem. Not for any of them at lest.

After a while longer, you heard a familiar voice shouting, " What?! No! No! That's not bloody true! He's fine! He fucking has to be! You're a fucking liar! Don't touch you dare touch me!" Then you saw Paul's boyish face, laced with fear and aggravation, he darted frantically away from the doctor, he knew it couldn't be true.

That's when he saw you, curled up in a ball, on the floor, sobbing your eyes out and being completely ignored. He stopped, his face grew pale and he began walking to you very slowly; as if something might change before he got there. As he reached you, he dropped to his knees and tears began streaming out of his eyes.

"No N/n," he whispered, "I-i *sob* he-he'sss *sob*, there—*sob*," you couldn't speak; he got the idea. He began crying freely, there was not much to be said. He just sat next to you for hours, eventually; you both fell asleep.

You woke up a while later, expecting to see John, but instead Paul, Paul and the bleakly lighted hospital. You just sat there watching the fluorescent lights make white square shapes on the polished marble floors. You took a deep breath and laid your head on his shoulder.

He woke up slowly and saw you sitting next to him, not crying, not screaming, not even shaking, no trace of emotion was left in you. You looked completely dead inside. "Y/n we should go, C'mon, I'll drive you home," you maintained eye contact with the shiny white squares and said, " Can't go home; home's a crime scene."

Paul let out a distraught laugh. "Okay... lets take you back to my house up here then, you can stay there, alright N/n?" You nodded, tears still streaming down your face. "It's not gonna be the same y'know," you said to him, he nodded, " Nothing will be okay for a long time. John absolutely adored you y'know, it almost made me jealous sometimes," you said With a small smile, still crying.

He laughed again, this time more of a sentimental laugh than anything else. "I just wish I'd gotten to say goodbye right. The last time we talked— well you know, we fought pretty bad," he said remorsefully,
"Yeah I know Macca," you said as he took your hand and the two of you began to walk, you leaned your head on his shoulder and said, " You never really get to say goodbye right though,"

~~~~~~~Six years later~~~~~~

You sat in your living room, the afternoon sunlight playing with the walls, the boys where outside, you could see them run around through the windows large open windows. You smiled a little bleakly as you talked to your mother on the phone, she was overbearing but at least she cared, " Yes mom, okay okay, yeah. No that's not ever happening. Yeah. Alright. Okay, goodbye mom." You put the phone down and heard the boys screaming, " Uncle Paul! Uncle Paul!" You smiled, you hadn't expected Paul today.

You watched him greet the boys then begin to walk towards the house, he stuck his head through the open door and said, " You there—ah hello N/n," you got up and hugged him, " I didn't expect to see you today Paulie," he smiled and said, "I just thought I'd come and check on you, since y'know, today is the anniversary of John's..." he trailed off and looked at the floor, wondering if that wasn't the wisest choice of words.

"Yeah I know, but don't worry I'm fine. Although I still can't believe that he's not around," you said, a small tear streaming down your cheek. Paul hugged you and said, " Don't worry N/n, it'll be fine," you nodded into his chest then pulled away and took a deep breath, "How about a cuppa?" He smiled and said, "Eh why not?" And the two of you walked towards the kitchen.