The Silenced Drummer

Chapter 12: A Sense

The setting sun was always a beautiful sight to Paul. However, even it could not stop the onslaught of thoughts that plagued his mind.

John was not much better.

The two sat beside each other on the wooden bench. If it weren't for the relatively low amount of people that were in the park, they probably would be somewhere else right now.

But even then, the few girls that they did walk past didn't act out in the way they expected them to.

In fact, they were rather calm, and that only made Paul feel more anxious. He thought that he would feel glad to finally be out in public without any trouble, but he only got more nervous as time went on.

John glanced over at him, sighing. 

He always thought that Paul was beautiful, just as much as the sunset was. But, to see him looking down with a grim expression, John was far from happy.

Making sure that there was no one around, he placed his hand on Paul's, which was resting on the brown wood.

"Paul..." He softly said.

The bassist looked in his direction, turning his head slightly.

"You okay?"

Paul leaned back onto the bench.

"... N-no..."

That word made John sigh.

"Macca," He once again spoke in a soft tone, "tell me... w-what's bothering ya?"

"Um... t-to tell ya t-the truth... I... don't k-know..."

John moved closer to Paul, wrapping an arm around him.

"I... It's just t-that... how..."

"Yeah?"

"How w-will we... ever... g-go back to our old l-lives?"

"What do you mean by that, Paulie?"

"Us... George... W-we all have to l-live with this n-now. A-and Ringo... I always t-thought he was a l-little glum, but... a-after this..."

Paul couldn't continue. He shuffled closer to John, waiting for him to respond.

"Paul..."

He looked over at the guitarist, tears forming in his eyes.

John pulled him in for a hug.

"I... can't exactly calm yer nerves about that... but," his grip on the bassist tightened, "no matter what happens, I will always be here for you."

Paul allowed himself to whimper. 

They both closed their eyes

For a moment, they both felt like nothing else existed. John had to suppress his sobs as Paul's got louder. Paul, for his part, did keep them at a steady volume.

However, over the sounds of Paul's sobs, John thought he heard something.

He opened his eyes and stared of into the distance, wondering if he had just imagined it. Nothing but the green grass and trees met his gaze.

He sighed and pulled away from Paul, who was starting to calm down.

"J-John?" Paul stuttered. John cupped Paul's wet cheek in his hand.

"Everythin's goin' to be okay, my dear Macca."

Before Paul could respond, John pressed his lips up against his.

Paul closed his eyes, not surprised by John's action. His hands rested on the older man's head.

John didn't want the kiss to be deep, but rather passionate. He wanted Paul to melt in his hands, until he felt better.

Once again, a sound made the guitarist's eyes open.

Paul's were shut, so he assumed that Paul hadn't heard it.

He couldn't look around too much, but this time, John felt as if they were being watched. 

Burying his fears for the sounds, John pulled away from Paul.

"John... Can I tell y-ya something?"

John did his best to hide his apprehensiveness.

"Y-yes, Paul. What is it?"

"I love you," Paul said as he buried his head into John's shoulder for a moment.

John was about to hug Paul again when...

Snap

A rather loud sound caught both of their attentions. 

Pulling away from John, Paul looked around. John, swallowing a lump in his throat, looked around as well.

They both laid their eyes upon two squirrels that were at the base of a nearby tree. They both seemed to be chasing each other.

There was a twig near them that was broke in half.

"O-oh... It was just them..." Paul hesitantly chuckled.

"Yeah..." John paused, "just a pair of squirrels..."

He still looked around, but since there were so many trees, he had a hard time spotting anything else. 

The sun had disappeared from the horizon a few minutes ago, so it was quickly getting dark.

John looked back at Paul.

"Ya want to go back to the hotel, now?"

"Yeah, that's probably for the best."

Getting up from the bench, the pair started to walk away. 

The dirt path was completely empty, aside from them. 

"Ay John?" asked Paul.

"Yes?"

"How do ya think George and Ringo are doin'?"

John was silent for a moment, thinking.

"They're probably fine. Come on, we need to get back to them before they get worried," John responded as he wrapped an arm around the younger Beatle.

It was getting darker with each passing minute, but they both knew that they would get back to the hotel before it was nighttime.

As the two continued to walk, John once again heard something.

Footsteps?

The sound was faint, but he was able to make it out. He looked over at Paul, who didn't seem to hear it.

He looked behind him and the sound stopped.

'Okay, John. Calm down... There's no way someone could be...' John pushed the thought out of his head. He focused his gaze forwards.

At that moment, John wanted nothing more than to be back at the hotel.