For Tomorrow - McLennon AU

12.

(A/N- Sorry the last chapter was short, this chapter was originally meant to be 11 too, but it turned out too long, so I put the other half here instead. That's why I published two parts. （＾ν＾）)

7th November, 1955

When Paul woke up, he was incredibly confused. At first he forgot that he was no longer in hospital, and he thought maybe he might be in his own room. But as he rubbed his eyes and the sleepiness slowly went away, he noticed he wasn't.

After remembering where he was, he sighed and looked around to see if there was a clock. John's alarm clock was on his bedside table, and it read 10:14am.

"Oh..." He'd slept for almost 12 hours...

But it wasn't the time that made him surprised, it was the little piece of lined paper underneath the clock. It looked like a note, which Paul picked up to read.

'Dear Macca.

I'm sorry I didn't wake you up before I set off for school, but you looked so damn peaceful I just couldn't.

Anyway, I'll be home around half 3. I discussed it with Mimi and she said that I could come straight home so you didn't have to be alone for any longer than need be. And also she trusts you to make sure I don't actually set the house on fire this time.

P.s you can steal some of my clothes, they suit you.

Okay, I will see you later. Be careful if you decide to get out of bed, I don't want to come home to you lying dead at the bottom of the stairs.

~Johnny.'

Paul couldn't help but laugh at that last bit, taking a note to be extra careful. He smiled as he re-read it, before folding it up and making a mental note to put it in one of his pockets on his leather jacket.

John was so sweet and caring. He wished that people in 2019 were like John, always checking in to see if he was okay.

With a sigh, he decided there was no harm in getting out of bed that day. So after a few more seconds of staring at his crutches, he picked them up, pushing himself onto his feet.

What was the harm in taking a stroll around the house?

He headed for the bathroom, grabbing a plaid t-shirt and some baggy jeans from Johns wardrobe first. He gasped at how old fashioned they looked, not that he was complaining, he liked that sort of stuff. But this time he had a reason to wear it.

Once he was changed, with much difficulty, he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Some grey, baggyish jeans on with a blue plaid t-shirt tucked inside.

"Oh my God, Paul." He gawped at himself.

Sure, he'd warn John's clothes yesterday, but he'd never really had a good look at himself in them. But boy, did he look good...

A few seconds later, he was done in the bathroom, and headed back into John's room to grab the note and put it in his pocket. He didn't know why, but he felt like he needed to hold on to at least something of John's.

He began to hum, looking around the room for something else to do. The curtains were open, showing him a view of Menlove Avenue. In 2019, it was a main road, and there were always cars speeding up and down it. But in 1955, well it was still a road, but hardly any cars were on it. There were less trees too.

Things had changed so much, and Paul was beginning to wonder if it was for the better or not. He'd grown up with his grandparents saying things like 'back in my day' or 'life was better in many ways when we were your age', and Paul had always just laughed at them. So had Mike.

But now, looking out into the street and seeing how peaceful everything looked, he began to wonder if they were right. Maybe in some ways it was better... Even the two women with neatly tied up hair, one of them pushing a pram, who were walking down the street and looking to be having a great conversation, made him question too. He rarely saw total strangers having a conversation where he was from, and it was sad really. He imagined the things he could learn by talking to people at his bus stop.

That's if he ever got home.

With a sigh, he turned around, making his way to the hallway to try and forget.

There was a set of wooden drawers, which ontop held a candle in the middle of 3 neatly placed photo frames. Paul bent down slightly, trying to see what was shown on the black and white photos inside of the frames.

One was a photo of John and Mimi when John looked to be younger. Another (placed in the middle) was of a slightly older John, Mimi and a man who Paul assumed to be the woman's husband (as they were holding hands), all stood in a line at a beach in-front of the sea.

And the last one was a photo of John as a child, probably around eight years old, stood infront of a gate on his bike. He looked closely at the photo to try and see what the righting said behind him.

"St... Straw... Strawberry Fields!" He called out in shock.

There was a photo of Paul stood infront of that too, also on his bike. It was taken when he was 10 and on a bike ride with his family on Jim's phone. The memories came back to Paul, and knowing that John had stood in that exact same place around 60 years before sort of creeped him out. But it was amazing to think about.

Paul hadn't even know John existed a week ago, and here he was, wearing his leather jacket and in his house, looking at a photo of John which reminded him so much of something he had done when he was John's age, decades later.

And John had no idea.

The older boy thought Paul was just a Manchester boy, who had gotten lost one day and ended up in a field. But it was much more than that, so much more... most of which Paul didn't even understand himself.

And he couldn't even tell John the truth, because John would never believe him. It was far fetched, it wasn't normal... Yet it happened.

But Paul wanted to tell John, he really did.

After a few more seconds of staring at the photo's, he went back into John's room. He knew there was no way he'd be able to make it down the stairs alone, not if he didn't want to end up falling down them like John had warned him about.

His next stop was to the record player, for a distraction.

Paul needed to clear his thoughts, and usually the way he did that was by listening to music. But Paul couldn't see a radio, just a record player. Paul had always loved the idea of using one, he just didn't want to break it.

You're not gonna break it.

Just be careful, like your Dad said he had to be.

"Just be careful, just be careful." He told himself, taking a look through the different records that John had on his shelf. "Rock around the clock..."

His grandad loved that song dearly.

Why not?

The boy threw one of his crutches on the bed, feeling he could easily just hop using one of them and his non-sprained foot. He grabbed the record, carrying out his plan and hopping to the player set on John's desk.

He took it out, carefully, knowing that he didn't want to break or scratch it in any way, and lifted the needle, putting it on the first line he saw.

When it didn't play, he was disappointed. But after messing around with a few of the buttons, the music began to play.

"Yes!" He felt all his bad thoughts slowly drift away.