(no subject)
Title: Memphis
Pairing: John/Paul
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Disclaimer: Not real
Prompt: #8 Fear
Screaming. There was always screaming but this time it was bad. Maybe that was because he could hear his own screaming above the fans, a thousand times louder and millions of times worse, as he dropped to the stage slowly. He could also hear familiar voices calling his name. Paul's distraught face appeared in his darkening vision.
"John?"
John tried to speak to him, reach out but couldn't get his voice or limbs to work. This horrid sensation stayed with him as the dream faded. It was impossible to move, harder still to breathe. Finally, after an age of lying in his still, silent panic, John sat up. He was still tangled up in the sheets, but he struggled and fought until he was free. He shoved them away from him with such force they all fell on the floor.
John fell into Paul on his way out of bed. They both overbalanced and ended up huddled in the gap between the two beds. After a moment John shifted to a more comfortable position. He rested his head on Paul's shoulder, while Paul slid his arms around him. John suddenly felt a lot safer. He met Paul's eyes in the dim light.
"Bad dreams?" John asked. "Me too. I scared to go back to sleep even."
Paul nodded. "Memphis is going to be tough. We should at least get back in bed."
John didn't bother with his bed. He just joined Paul. They lay together, John burrowing his head between Paul and the blankets. Paul ran his hand through John's hair, whispering comforting things. Normally that might have been enough to calm him, but tonight John felt too tense. He couldn't even sleep.
~
John played on. They were all drained from this tour. He knew even Paul was going through the motions of putting on a show. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could -
A sudden loud bang and accompanying flash alerted him. John's mind was suddenly racing. Who's been shot? Oh shit, who's been shot? If Paul's dead because of what I've said...
He looked over to where the others had stood. Where they still stood... John looked round at Ringo hurriedly. The drummer was unhurt but he wore a mask of fear and worry that John was sure was a mirror of his own face. They both took each other's cue to speed up.
Let's get the hell out of here, John thought.
~
"A firecracker!" John fumed as they sped away. They'd just been told the source of the loud noise. "I nearly had a heart attack beacuse of a bloody firecracker? I thought Paul had been shot or something!"
"Well we thought you'd been shot." George said, still looking shaky.
"But you weren't." Paul pulled John into a tight hug, not caring that the others saw. "I'm glad you're alright. I don't know what...” he broke off, swallowing.
John didn't say anything. He just held on to Paul for as long as possible, fighting tears.
Pairing: John/Paul
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Disclaimer: Not real
Prompt: #8 Fear
Screaming. There was always screaming but this time it was bad. Maybe that was because he could hear his own screaming above the fans, a thousand times louder and millions of times worse, as he dropped to the stage slowly. He could also hear familiar voices calling his name. Paul's distraught face appeared in his darkening vision.
"John?"
John tried to speak to him, reach out but couldn't get his voice or limbs to work. This horrid sensation stayed with him as the dream faded. It was impossible to move, harder still to breathe. Finally, after an age of lying in his still, silent panic, John sat up. He was still tangled up in the sheets, but he struggled and fought until he was free. He shoved them away from him with such force they all fell on the floor.
John fell into Paul on his way out of bed. They both overbalanced and ended up huddled in the gap between the two beds. After a moment John shifted to a more comfortable position. He rested his head on Paul's shoulder, while Paul slid his arms around him. John suddenly felt a lot safer. He met Paul's eyes in the dim light.
"Bad dreams?" John asked. "Me too. I scared to go back to sleep even."
Paul nodded. "Memphis is going to be tough. We should at least get back in bed."
John didn't bother with his bed. He just joined Paul. They lay together, John burrowing his head between Paul and the blankets. Paul ran his hand through John's hair, whispering comforting things. Normally that might have been enough to calm him, but tonight John felt too tense. He couldn't even sleep.
~
John played on. They were all drained from this tour. He knew even Paul was going through the motions of putting on a show. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could -
A sudden loud bang and accompanying flash alerted him. John's mind was suddenly racing. Who's been shot? Oh shit, who's been shot? If Paul's dead because of what I've said...
He looked over to where the others had stood. Where they still stood... John looked round at Ringo hurriedly. The drummer was unhurt but he wore a mask of fear and worry that John was sure was a mirror of his own face. They both took each other's cue to speed up.
Let's get the hell out of here, John thought.
~
"A firecracker!" John fumed as they sped away. They'd just been told the source of the loud noise. "I nearly had a heart attack beacuse of a bloody firecracker? I thought Paul had been shot or something!"
"Well we thought you'd been shot." George said, still looking shaky.
"But you weren't." Paul pulled John into a tight hug, not caring that the others saw. "I'm glad you're alright. I don't know what...” he broke off, swallowing.
John didn't say anything. He just held on to Paul for as long as possible, fighting tears.