⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Seventy: The Fall of a Former Beatle

April 11, 1962

John was sick.

He had dropped his stuff off in the room him and Paul would be sharing then came to Brian and I's room. He wanted to get away from everyone else.

The second he had stepped in the room and the door closed behind him, he flung himself into my arms and began to cry. I didn't say anything; I just rubbed my hand along his back comfortingly.

"Donna?" I heard after the toilet had flushed. Now he was in the bathroom. He'd genuinely made himself sick.

"Yes?" I asked, stepping into the room. He was lying on the floor.

"Why'd you let me do that?"

"Do what?" I asked.

"Act like a child," he said flatly.

"John," I said sternly. "You have every right to cry. I wasn't gonna stop you."

He rolled on his back and frowned up at me. "Why are you so nice?"

"Because I love you." I smiled.

"Yer a blessing, love," he said. "I love ye too."

"Now, here." I bent down and took a washcloth out of the cabinet below the counter and began to soak it in the cold water of the sink. I handed it to him along with a glass of water I'd also prepared.

He looked at it blankly. "What do I do with it?"

I knelt down and lifted his hand to his forehead. "It'll help," I said.

He nodded and someone knocked at the door. "Be right back," I said to him, patting him on the head like he was a child.

He gave a feeble smile and I stood to go answer the door. It was Paul, I realized through the peephole. He was standing alone, looking around at the hallway.

"Who is it?" I heard John ask.

"Paul," I responded.

"Don't tell him I've made a fool of myself."

"Yeah, I sure won't," I said with a laugh as I opened the door.

Paul's head jerked in my direction. "Hey," he said.

I raised my eyebrows. "Hello?"

"We're—uh—going to get something to eat, if you'd like to come. Is John here?"

I nodded. "I think we'll pass," I answered, shifting uncomfortably on my heels. "I'm afraid now just isn't a good time."

Paul paused a moment before nodding. "I'll leave you two to it then," he said.

"Thanks for the offer though," I added.

"Don't mention it," he said. "We'll just be at the diner across the street if you happen to change your mind."

I nodded. "Thanks. I'll keep word of it."

He nodded. "Farewell," he said jokingly and turned to leave. I closed the door and went back towards the bathroom.

"Are ye gonna stay on the floor forever?" I asked teasingly, leaning on the doorframe and crossing my arms.

He gave a little nod. "It's pretty nice." He patted the tile next to him.

"Oh, come here," I said, going to help him up. He groaned before accepting my help and grudgingly pulling himself up. I led him over to the bed and practically forced him to lay down.

"Isn't that cozier?"

He shrugged and nodded, laying the washcloth he still had across his entire face and dropping his arms beside him defeatedly. I snorted. "You should be an actor," I commented.

He pulled the cloth off and smirked at me, sitting up and extending his arms. I rolled my eyes before walking over to him and he pulled me across his lap, practically suffocating me with his embrace.

"What would I do without my caretaker?" he asked. "Whenever I act like a baby, yer always there to help."

"Just doing my job," I said with a laugh, looking at him expectantly. "I am Brian's assistant now. I gotta keep his clients in line, don't I?"

It was good to see his smile again. "How are you, then?" he asked suddenly. "You knew Stu too. Are ye okay?"

"John, I didn't know him as much as you. I'm...fine."

"You're an awful liar," he quipped.

"Maybe you're just too good a detective," I grumbled and he pushed a bit of hair behind my ear.

"Besides," he said. "You don't have to know someone a whole lot to be upset. You just have to them a little bit for it to hurt, y'know?"

I nodded. "You're right. But, honest, I'll be fine. I'm better dealing with my feelings alone, yeah?"

He nodded and looked down at our entwined hands. "I love you," he said. "I love you so, so much." He looked at me. His eyes were still blotchy from crying earlier. His hair was tousled and messy too. Despite all of that, he still managed to be the most attractive thing I'd ever laid eyes on. It wasn't surprising, though. I'd seen John in his many different forms: dressed up, casual, drunk, drugged up, sick, and sad, and mad, yet he always still managed to take my breath away. He could roll in a puddle of mud and I still wouldn't think any less of him. I'd become so attached to him that it made my mind spin.

"I love you too, John," I answered. "Probably too much." I smiled.

He kissed me on the lips lightly and pulled back, smiling. "Ye think the others are still eating?" he asked.

I looked at my watch. "I suspect so. It hasn't been fifteen minutes."

He smiled. "Let's go on down there and join them, yeah?"

I nodded and stood up, smoothing out my blouse. He stood too and wiped his face. "Do I look like I've cried all my tears out?" he asked jokingly.

I shook my head with a giggle. "You look nice."

He nodded. "As do you, my love." He stuck out a hand and I took it.

"Hey, John?"

"Yes?"

" I just want to make sure that you know," I began, trailing off. He looked at me skeptically. "It's okay to be sad," I said. "And I'm here, y'know, if you need anything."

He nodded with a visibly forced smile. "I know, love," he said, his voice cracking. He took a moment to gather himself as we stepped out of the room and began down the hallways towards the staircase. "I'm always here for you too," he decided on after a moment. "That's what makes us so strong."

I laughed. "Yes, it does."