Help! //McLennon

fifteen

I feel like my writing is getting sloppy. You guys will tell me if it's crappy, yeah?

Paul

Over the next few weeks, me and John operated as normal. He would go to work 6-7 days a week and I would cook and clean and look after my happy little Mike. When he wasn't at work, we would listen to the radio and talk about bands and dream up big, famous careers. Or sometimes he'd sing me a song when Mike was asleep and I'd quietly give him a round of applause.

One thing that was different though was in the mornings, when he woke up to go to work and I would wake up with him, we'd stay in bed a little while longer and cuddle and sometimes kiss. When I was busy cooking and he was home, sometimes he'd leave a small kiss on my neck.

He had changed so much since I first came to live with him. His hard exterior had softened and his guard was quite often let down, letting me enjoy the tender side of him. He didn't seem to feel the need to cover up his true being, and that made my heart sing. I loved John's true being. He was a tender person - when he wanted to be. His affection was unpractised, I will admit, but at the same time, it was endearing.

Everything was smooth sailing for those happy weeks, but a few nightmares here and there. He sat me down though, a few weeks before Christmas and said something I'd much rather not hear.

"I think you should see someone." He states, a sympathetic layer fogging up his eyes. "A therapist, maybe? I think it could help with your...stuff." He quietly continues and avoids my eyes.

"I can do it by myself, John. If I'm waking you up to often then I can sleep on the couch-"

"This has got nothing to do with me, love. I will try and help you as much as possible but in the end, you're still not healthy." He says sternly and I bite my lip in hesitance.

"I don't know... What if they go to the police?" I ask.

"She deserves it! What she has done could get her in prison, and that is what should be happening! Paul, she destroyed you." He breathes, and carefully reaches across the bench to hold my hand. "I'm trying the best I can, but you might need some more help. I hate seeing you in pain." He whispers, and at the last sentence, I offer him a sad smile.

"Okay. I'll try. I can't promise anything though." I murmur and tingles to up my spine as John rubs his calloused thumb over my knuckles.

"A try is all I need." He smiles and hesitantly leans over the bench to kiss me on the cheek.

"Can we do it after Christmas?" I ask, hoping that after the holiday, I can get a fresh start.

"Of course."

****

John

If I had been aware that my mouth hung open like a deep abyss and drool was making its way steadily down my chin all the while ugly and obnoxiously noisy snores rattled the apartment, I would have woken up ages ago. In fact, I wouldn't have gone to sleep on the couch at eleven o'clock in the morning in the first place.

But, I must admit, waking up to Mike crawling all over me wasn't the worst thing ever. His little hands pressed into my stomach as he clawed his way up my body and the sensation sent me into a giggle.

It's true, John Winston Lennon had gone soft.

"You mongrel!" I laugh and scoop him into my arms, tickling his sides and causing the toddler to crack up in a high-pitched laugh. My next attack is in the form of raspberries. Without mercy, I press my lips to his cheek and blow out causing a funny sound. This only sends Mike into more of giggle-fit.

"Shhhh! Your brother is still asleep!" I whisper-cry and cover his mouth playfully. I hold the small boy to my chest as I stand and walk around the apartment. "Want some toast, Mikey?" I ask and as expected he nods eagerly. I set him down on the counter and pull out the bread, putting the kettle on as I put two slices in the toaster. "You know what, little lad?" I say as I pull a funny face.

"What?" Mike chuckles.

"I might have bought some..." I open the cupboard under the bench he was sitting on and reach for something. "Jam!" I cheer and Mike's eyes widen to the size of the moon. Almost instantly, they well up with tears. "Oh no, what's wrong?!" I panic and cradle his small frame in my arms.

"I j-just re-really love jam." He manages to say through racking sobs.

I laugh a little and swipe his long, wispy hair from his eyes. "You're in for a treat then, aren't you?" I smile and finish making his toast. After he's finished and I wipe the crumbs from his podgy cheeks, I gather our coats, slipping his over his shoulders and bending down to tie up his laces on his little shoes. With that, I begin to scribble out a note for Paul to explains our whereabouts, but he appears with his precious lips stretched out in a yawn and his mass of silky hair sticking up in messy places.

"Where are you off to then?" He yawns as he scratches his neck.

"Just into town," I answer and beckon him closer. With my hand encircling Mike's, I let my other gently guide Paul's head to mine as I left a short, sweet kiss on his lips.

Immediately after Mike bursts into a fit of tears, and both me and Paul kneel down to console him.

"What's wrong?" Paul coos as he strokes the boy's cheek, smearing his tears away.

"I don't want you to get pregnant!" He howls, his little face all scrunched up in sorrow and heartbreak.

Although he took his brother's feelings very seriously, Paul couldn't help but break a smile at Mike's blubbering. "Oh darling," he sighs and softs kisses his forehead. "I'm not going to get pregnant."

"B-B-But," he stammers. "You and Johnny kissed! I don't want a baby."

With a chuckle, I bundle the moping toddler into my arms and stand back up. "I'll get him out. We'll go for a walk, how does that sound, hmm Mike?"

The little blonde boy who's hair had been going darker in the recent months, was back to his cheerful self as I carried him along the street. He happily sat at my hip and pointed with his stubby fingers all the things in the city that interested him. He marvelled away at the cars and colourful fruit and vegetable stalls and the bright shop fronts. His eyes went especially wide when we pasted the bakery and all the pastries and cake sat teasingly on display. I chuckle and promise him a cake later on.

I had another shop in mind.

I bit my lip in thought as I gazed through the shop window. Checking for quite possibly the third time, I pull out my wallet and check how much quid I had.

£25 and 50p

I had been saving up for half a year now and this was possibly the first time I had ever held this much money. Mike was enthralled, his nose pressed up to the glass as I held his hand in mine. I looked up from my wallet again, squinting into the shop to try and see the price tag. For once, I wished I was wearing my glasses.

I didn't need glasses to guess who though when a pair of hands ran over my shoulders and a cool pair of lips pressed and kissed and sucked at the back of my neck.

"Yoko," I breathe.