McLennon Oneshots

Lost Boy - Chapter 2

(A/N- Here it is! P.s, Happy VE Day to any more Brits out there 🇬🇧❤️.)

19th August, 1961

As soon as John woke up the next morning, he was out of the door almost straight away. He'd hardly slept that night, the only thing keeping him from walking out of the house as soon as he hung up the phone, the night before, being Mimi.

She reminded him that it was almost 10pm at night, and the train stations would be shut, so he gave in and slept home that night.

Where had Paul even been sleeping?

Who the hell beat him up?

Why did he go to Manchester?

All the questions flew through his mind that night, images of Paul being beat senseless flowing through his mind. He swore that tears began to fall down his face at one point.

"Mimi, I'm heading out now." He called up to her from the bottom of the stairs.

When she didn't reply, he sighed, heading over taking the notepad out of his backpack and ripping out a piece of paper, beginning to write a note on it.

'I'm going out to find Paul. He's been alone for long enough, I need to find him.

Can you please ring Jim and George? Tell them about Manchester, only tell Jim about Paul being admitted to hospital if he seems in the right state to take it. That means don't tell him if he is crying or sounds drunk.

Love you, Mimi, and cross your fingers that Paul is still at that club.'

He placed it on the table next to the door, returning the notebook into his pocket. It had the address of the club on it, he couldn't loose it.

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An hour later

He'd gotten the bus to the train station, and was now waiting in line to buy a train ticket. After what felt like forever, he was finally at the front.

"Yes love?" The ticket sales woman said with a smile.

"One ticket to Manchester please." He smiled back, taking out his wallet.

"That will be... £15, please." He took out £15 of the £110 he'd taken with him. "Thanks, love."

He took the ticket with a nod, walking on to the platform it said on the ticket, trying to calm himself down.

Paul obviously left so that he'd never see John again...

What if he still hated John?

What if he was happy in Manchester and didn't want to leave?

The train arrived, John hopping on and taking a seat at the back. The next two hours were going to be hell, he could already feel it.

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Two hours later

As soon as the train came to a stop, John's nerves began to get to him again. He'd never been to Manchester before, so didn't even have any idea where he was going.

"Excuse me?" He asked a woman in uniform, standing next to a sign that said 'information' on it.

"Yes, dear?" She seemed around the same age as him, her brown curls falling on her face.

"Uh, I was wondering if you could tell me where the taxi rank is?" He asked, a polite smile upon his face.

"Of course." She smiled, her accent thick. "If you go round that corner and take a left outside of the door, you'll see quite a few black taxis waiting out there."