⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Some Things Are Better Left as a Secret

April 11, 1962

"Sit your pretty arse down in that seat, already, Paul," snapped John sarcastically. I heard Pete laugh. Paul frowned at John and sat down in the seat across the aisle.

We were boarding a plane. I didn't know whether to feel excited or terrified.

"Check this out, eh?" John asked when he'd diverted his attention from everything else and towards me. "We're flying."

I nodded. "Yes, yes we are."

"Aww, love," he said amusedly, wrapping my hand in his on the arm rest. "Don't fret, I'll be right here in case you get too scared."

"Oh, shut it," I said, looking out the window. "I'm fine."

"Snappy today, are we?"

I frowned at him. "No."

"Yes," he insisted.

"It's just a lot, okay?" I snapped.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, I will leave the beast alone."

"Please don't," I said, cracking a smile.

"Ah, I won't then," he said, putting his arm around my happily.

"Bleh," I heard Paul and Pete mock from their seats.

John glared at them. "Grow up," he remarked.

"No, you," said Pete with a laugh.

John rolled his eyes. "Ignore them, love. They're just jealous." He leaned down and whispered the last word straight into my ear. He never failed to make me feel flustered out of my mind.

He chuckled. "Works like a charm," he said. "Every single time."

"You've got to stop that," I said breathlessly.

"Why?" he asked. "You know you like it."

"John, there's other people here," Paul said. We both looked at him and Pete. "Save it for the bedroom, yeah?" Pete snorted.

John nodded. "I'm going to hurt you, it's official."

"You won't," said Paul. "What would you do without your admirable bassist?"

"I'd get another."

"You can't replace me," he said, grinning. "I'm Paul McCartney, your best friend."

"The best friend who needs to stop talking," John said, smiling.

An intercom over our heads began to speak and they stopped bickering long enough to hear the directions.

"Look, look, look," said John to me, pointing out the window. "We're flying."

I swallowed. "Yes, we sure are."

~~~

We landed a few hours later. The flight was long and would have been boring and tedious if John's hadn't been making conversation the entire time to keep me entertained.

"Stay in your seat until we're firmly on the ground, Donna," John said, mocking the announcement over the speakers.

"What if I don't?"

"You'll perish!"

"Oh, no, I'm terrified."

"Should be," he said. "Death's a dark figure, isn't it?"

"Uh—yeah, it is, I guess."

He raised his eyebrows. "You guess?"

"Well, I haven't been exposed to it, so I can't really say for certain, can I?" I grinned.

He thought a moment. "I guess you're right."

We fell quiet again as the intercom told us we could "proceed out in an orderly fashion." Everyone rushed to get out. Extremely orderly.

John stayed sitting down, looking out the window intently. "John—?"

"Why's Astrid here?" he asked confusedly. "And where's Stu?"

I followed his gaze and saw that he was right. Astrid was standing in the airport, her head down. Had we been able to see closer, we would've seen the tears she was fighting so hard to hide.

~~~

"Astrid?" Johns voice was desperate at this point. "Astrid, where is he? Where's Stuart?"

"John," she said, her voice shaking.

"Where is he?" Johns was frantic, his voice rising, clearly battling about a hundred emotions at once.

I kept a hand on his arm, trying to keep him from bursting out.

Astrid began to cry. "John, I'm so sorry," she said. "He—he's—." Paul had went to her side when she began to stumble to hold her steady. The words began to sink in. My heart began to race, my head spin, and my eyes fill. I could almost hear John's heart break.

People around us began to stare and we began to try and hurry away to avoid a spectacle, but when I tried to tug John outside, he didn't move. He just stood still, his face solemn. He was trying so hard to fight everything he wanted to let out.

"John," I said. I saw pain in his eyes.

"Donna—?" he choked. "What—?"

"I'm sorry, John."

Finally, he started moving, numbly, when someone scolded him for being in the way. For a moment, he looked like he was about to hit him, but he didn't, he just followed me along with his bags, his expression blank, emotionless, but I couldn't miss the tears in his eyes. I didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything I could say that would make him feel any better. I knew that. I still couldn't help wishing there was something I could do.

Maybe I could try to keep myself calm. My heartbeat had spiked and I fought to keep from just falling over all together. I knew I needed to stay as stable as I could right now.

He kept his free hand firmly on my arm, as if I were going to slip away too. "I don't get it," he said. "What did Stu do wrong? He didn't deserve this."

"I know John. He didn't do anything wrong," I responded. "Sometimes things just don't come out the way we want them to."

"But," he said sadly. "Why?"

I didn't know how to respond. I had not a vague answer for him. I didn't know why it was like that, it just was. It always had been, and it likely always would be. "John, I-I-I just...I don't know. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell myself. But, maybe some things are better off being a secret."

"But I don't like secrets," he said, trying vainly to put on a joking mask to hide how he really felt. I'd learned that John was notorious for this. He'd try to hide how he really felt. Sometimes, it was frustrating, but recently, I'd learned how to really understand him. I could see through his layers and work out how he really felt.

I knew how he felt now: hopeless, upset, angry, maybe even guilty. I couldn't do anything that would really help him. I tried to swallow the uselessness I suddenly felt.

The rest of the group was outside sat on a bench crowding around Astrid. Astrid was understandably heartbroken. Paul had his arms around her comfortingly, giving us a sad look.

"How about we get to the hotel?" asked Pete. "We can really talk there, yeah?" He looked at Astrid and his eyes found John for only a moment, before they flicked downward and stayed there.

I nodded. "Maybe that's a good idea."

Paul took Astrid's shoulders and guided her to her feet tentatively. I took John and began leading him away. It seemed he'd just fallen into a spell of no emotion. If I hadn't been helping him along, I don't think he would have moved at all.