This is the second part, not-edited.
Title: Get out (that's the way Word saved it) - second chapter
Author: jerom2003
Word Count: 5463
Rating: 18 (drugs, angst)
Summary: 1974, John's lost weekend and so they met.
John didn't answer, he didn't know what to say, Paul was hundred percent right.
"So tell me, why you were hurting me? Why you were having such fucking satisfaction in doing it?"
It took time for John to think of the answer, he didn't really know himself.
"I was waiting for your reaction, for your emotion, but you were so bloody calm all the time! As if I was saying nothing! Why didn't you shout at me, or even hit me?! Didn't you care?!"
"Believe me I did! And I have shouted at you but you didn't listen. And then what was the point? We were grown up John, and you were playing the game I didn't want to play. Did you really wanted me to hurt you back? And why to do it in public? What was the aim in all of it? I still don't see any reason except hurting me. And then again why?" Paul wasn't crying anymore, he was very tired, the butt was burning his fingers, he squeezed it in the ashtray, put his elbows on the table and brushed his hands through his hair.
"Probably because you were so fucking good," Paul raised his eyes at John, who was looking straight at him and smiling. "I was jealous, Paul, I think it was the main reason, that song (Jealous Guy) was about you, not about Yoko. We started as equals but then you went so far way I couldn't catch up. That was the reason of my first depression, I was staying in Kenwood doing nothing. You would do everything yourself anyway, so I decided to relax." Eventually John have time to start smoking himself, which calmed him a little.
"That's not true!" Paul sat back in his chair again, he couldn't believe what John was saying. "You were doing great stuff! Tomorrow Never Knows, Strawberry Fields, I'm Walrus..."
"Paul, it is not big thing compared to your songs. I can name you hundred guys writing more or less like me, but I don't know anyone like you. It was hard for me try to live up to that, to except that it was my limit, but not yours. And then I decided to do something different and Yoko came quite handy."
"I didn't mean it that way, I didn't mean to put you down with my writing!"
"I know Paul, that was the funniest thing about it! I was always wandering how long it would take for you to understand that you didn't need us," John smiled at his own comment, but Paul was dead serious.
"But I wasn't doing everything alone, I was writing with you!"
"Come on, Paul! Those bits and pieces, it could have been someone else even Mal or anyone!"
"No, you are wrong," Paul shook his head, showing that he couldn't agree with any word John was saying. "You are underestimating yourself, John. It wasn't that simple! We were a group! George and Ringo were also playing theirs parts."
"Yes, and you were playing theirs parts quite well too," said John with a broad grin.
"So here we go again? You want to blame me for it?"
"No! I’m just trying to make you understand how good you are!”
"And what about "How Do You Sleep?'"
John stopped grinning as if Paul brought subject he didn't want to discuss.
"I said I am sorry! It was more about me than you..."
"George and Ringo were recording it with you, weren't they?" Paul asked in a hurt voice.
John nodded and looked away not able to hold Paul's stare.
"I still don't understand why you all turn so bitchy on me? All I wanted was out."
"It was so complicated, Paul, I was so bloody frightened! I was with you all my life, I didn't know how I was going to be with someone else!"
"Me too, John! Me too!" Paul was so glad that they shared the same feeling. "I was so fucking afraid myself! What was I going to do?! I never really played with anybody except you guys! And I wanted to make music, I didn't know anything else! But I couldn't do it alone forever! It was easier for you three, you were still working together for sometime and I was alone..." the painful memories were ready to bring Paul to fresh tears, but he hold them back, swallowing hard.
"Then why you wanted to break free so much?"
"You don't remember, do you? Or you were so busy with your bed and antiwar campaign, that you haven’t even noticed? You and Klein were putting me down at every opportunity! I have to fight to release my album the way I wanted it! I couldn't get my money - and I had the family to support! We were living on Linda's savings! It was all bloody humiliating! And then, you know…" Paul stooped to think of exact words. "I could have submitted to anything, but when you, Klein and that other bastard got to my songs - that was the last straw! You didn't even bother to let me know what you have done!"
"We couldn't get in touch with you..."
"Bullshit!" Paul cut him off. "I was right there in the same studio, making McCartney album! Why?! Why you treated me that way?! That meant I couldn't make my music anymore! And if Klein would think that my solo work wasn't commercial or something, so he would have changed it, and I wouldn't be able to do anything?! Brain never got to our music! It wasn't his business!"
John sat in silence, not even dare to look at Paul’s eyes, he was asking himself the same question "Why?"
"And then, you left me no other choice except drag us all to court! Just think about it, what would you do in my place?"
"Talk to us," John said quietly.
"Didn't I?"
"You did," he answered even more quieter, he wanted the chair to swallow him, he was really ashamed, and just hoped Paul would stop his rant. But Paul wasn't going to loose that opportunity, he had to leave through so much pain at that time, he just has to let John know about what he had put him through.
"And what did you answer?"
"Get well..."
"So you remember? Then why were you so bloody angry with me? You left me no choice, except finish that fucking partnership forever! Or you wanted to keep humiliating me, showing your power over that McCartney bustard! But all of your and Klein power was on the bloody piece of paper I didn't even sigh!"
"Stop it, Paul, please," John looked at him, hoping Paul would show some mercy. "I came here to apologize! I came here to bring back our lost friendship..."
"Friendship?" Paul, started to laugh nervously. "Friendship? What exactly do you understand at that word?" without waiting for an answer he continued bitterly. "I had a good friend a long time ago, I was ready to give up my life for him, but he decided to accuse me of the all sins in the world, just because he was frightened..."
There was long silence, John look up at Paul and said softly.
"When did you become so cruel?"
"I have got good teachers," Paul still didn't think that he has gone too far, he has so much on his chest, he wanted John to know about it. "I am not made of stone, John, when you ask me something, please understand that I'm serious about it, not like you. Today you say and mean one thing, tomorrow another. The first time you put me down I had the fucking break down. I won't be able to get through another one like that. You think it was the worse time of my life?” he pointed his head at the pictures ”It was not. It certainly wasn't the best either, but compared to what you had put me through it was nothing! If not for Linda, I would have been dead by now! Do you understand it? So please, whatever you say now, think about it! All right? Think about it really hard, does it really what you want or you want to use me again for your own purposes?"
There was long pause; John was sitting there with no visible emotions.
"Paul, I know perfectly well, what I have put you through, if I didn't I wouldn't have been here. I was looking through some old crap at home, and found this, and it was like thunder, as if I woke up from dragged dream. Every word I said to you in the hospital came back, as if I was right there beside your bed again. You didn't even hear me, did you?" Paul shook his head. "I hoped you did, I hoped it would revive you from your unconsciousness, but you were so fucking bad. And it was my fucking fault."
Paul wanted to say "no", but John cut him off.
"Just listen, all right? You said it yourself, they were bloody Kuklus Klan freaks! So don't tell me you don't see the link to my Jesus Christ remark! But my point is not about that. I promised you, that I will always be there for you, never let you suffer because of me, never let you down..." now Paul could clearly see two tears slide down John's cheeks. He turned way for a moment but didn't wiped them. "I have let you down, I have betrayed you every possible way, I have made you suffer more than that bloody fucking bastards! So please don't tell me what exactly I have done!"
Paul looked at his hands, he was very amazed but calm. As for John he was struggling not to break down into hysterical sobs as he continued.
"So now, if you just turn me down, I would perfectly understand, I would probably have done the same, I just... I just thought you are better than me..." and than he couldn't hold them anymore, so he started crying, something Paul haven't seen since his mother's death. He got up, came closer to John and embraced him in his arms, John leaned forward and put his head on Paul's belly, making dump spot on his shirt.
"Why, Paul? Why this happened to us?"
"Sh-sh, sh-sh, it's all right, I'm here, everything gonna be fine, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, shouldn't have said all this shit, I'm sorry, we gonna be fine," Paul was trying to soothe him, but John was just breaking in new waves of sobs. Paul was stroking his head with one hand and holding him tight with the other.
John's hands were on his knees, but then he put them around Paul's waist and started mumble something, hard to understand.
"What have I done, Macca? What am I gonna do now? How will I live... I don't want to be bloody fucking bastard I am..."
"You are not, Johnny, you are not, come on! Don't torture yourself, come on, stop it! You hear me?" he pushed himself away from John to look at his friends face. His eyes were swollen and his cheeks bright red. John took off his glasses to wipe tears from them.
"What have I done, Macca, what have I done..."
"You look a fright, Lennon! Lets get up, I have something to lighten our mood," he smiled and tapped John on the back, to make him stand and follow him. John reluctantly got up and followed wiping his face with right hand sleeve, Paul turned around smiling to check, whether John was coming.
They came to a small room at the top floor, which had small sofa, one armchair, and a coffee table. Noticing Paul's guitar in the corner, John understood that it was his room.
"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back."
He came back with two already rolled joints and lighter.
"You don't have anything stronger, do you?" John's nose was running, from constant wiping it was becoming as red as his cheeks, and he put on his glasses to cover his bloodshot eyes.
"No, but believe me this will knock you out!"
John was sitting at the sofa with crossed legs underneath him. Paul sat on the floor leaning his back at the armchair, he lit both joints and passed one to John. They were smoking quietly.
For some strange reason Paul was feeling much better. As years have past he forgot how vulnerable John could be. And his tough guy image, was only on the surface as some kind of defense. And now the guard came down and here he was as Paul remembered him in the best years of their friendship.
"What the hell are you grinning about?" John asked trying to appear angry, but couldn't hold his smile.
Paul was also smiling, but kept quite, the drag was kicking in. Both were dead tired of their conversation and closed theirs eyes almost together.
"Good stuff..." muttered John with still closed eyes.
There was long silence and then Paul whispered.
"I love you..."
John opened his eyes, Paul felt his stare and did the same. They were not smiling, just looking at each other, with so much sorrow and regret in their eyes.
"I thought you did, but then Yoko persuaded me, that you cared about me as long as it was concerning songs, and didn't give a damn about anything else."
Paul wasn't in the mood to argue. He was looking into John's features, as if trying to see there something new, instead he was looking for an old John, the one he once knew.
"Are you there?" he asked as if in the daze.
"Where?" asked John. It was obvious that pot hit Paul much harder, probably because John was used to more strong drugs or maybe Paul was more tired.
"You... are you still there... In your body?"
"Are you tripping, Paul? It was one fucking joint!" he said giggling.
"Again... You... I don't like you... I like another one... He was just there... Just a couple minutes ago..." Paul was still looking at John with his sad eyes, and then a small smile crept into his face. "Do I change as you do?"
It took eternity for John to answer, but nobody noticed, he started to understand what Paul was getting at.
"You are worse than me... Nobody knows you, I really doubt that you know which one of you is real," it made him laugh, but Paul was serious.
"Do you know the real John Lennon?" he asked John, dragging on the remaining of the joint and than putting it on the table.
"I do... And I don't like what I see..." thoughts were flying from one place to another, John wanted to stop that flow and trace them back to the beginning. "You said you love me... Now or you loved me before?
"Oh! Shit!" suddenly Paul started laughing hysterically. "I was so fucking fond of you! I thought you were the greatest guy on the planet! But you were lousy player, did you know that? I taught you everything you know! But still I liked you so fucking much!"
John started giggling himself.
"Tell you the truth, I was thinking exactly the same shit about you! I was thinking this little prick is younger than me, but so bloody great!" John burst out laughing.
They were laughing for some time, but then stopped and were deep in there's thoughts again.
"I love you too," John said seriously. "Do you know that?"
Paul nodded, closing his eyes, he was really tired and was ready to sleep.
"Did you get it? I am so sorry for everything I have done... Do you hear me?"
Again he nodded, but this time his head fell back at the chair behind him and didn't move.
"You are tired, sleep," John was looking at him with such an affection in his eyes, as if he had found something he had lost long time ago and wanted to treasure it from now on. "I have so fucking missed you Macca. I am glad you are not hearing me, I am becoming bloody soft," he smiled to himself and closed his eyes. "I will miss you, Macca and you won't, I know you bloody well!"
Author: jerom2003
Word Count: 5463
Rating: 18 (drugs, angst)
Summary: 1974, John's lost weekend and so they met.
John didn't answer, he didn't know what to say, Paul was hundred percent right.
"So tell me, why you were hurting me? Why you were having such fucking satisfaction in doing it?"
It took time for John to think of the answer, he didn't really know himself.
"I was waiting for your reaction, for your emotion, but you were so bloody calm all the time! As if I was saying nothing! Why didn't you shout at me, or even hit me?! Didn't you care?!"
"Believe me I did! And I have shouted at you but you didn't listen. And then what was the point? We were grown up John, and you were playing the game I didn't want to play. Did you really wanted me to hurt you back? And why to do it in public? What was the aim in all of it? I still don't see any reason except hurting me. And then again why?" Paul wasn't crying anymore, he was very tired, the butt was burning his fingers, he squeezed it in the ashtray, put his elbows on the table and brushed his hands through his hair.
"Probably because you were so fucking good," Paul raised his eyes at John, who was looking straight at him and smiling. "I was jealous, Paul, I think it was the main reason, that song (Jealous Guy) was about you, not about Yoko. We started as equals but then you went so far way I couldn't catch up. That was the reason of my first depression, I was staying in Kenwood doing nothing. You would do everything yourself anyway, so I decided to relax." Eventually John have time to start smoking himself, which calmed him a little.
"That's not true!" Paul sat back in his chair again, he couldn't believe what John was saying. "You were doing great stuff! Tomorrow Never Knows, Strawberry Fields, I'm Walrus..."
"Paul, it is not big thing compared to your songs. I can name you hundred guys writing more or less like me, but I don't know anyone like you. It was hard for me try to live up to that, to except that it was my limit, but not yours. And then I decided to do something different and Yoko came quite handy."
"I didn't mean it that way, I didn't mean to put you down with my writing!"
"I know Paul, that was the funniest thing about it! I was always wandering how long it would take for you to understand that you didn't need us," John smiled at his own comment, but Paul was dead serious.
"But I wasn't doing everything alone, I was writing with you!"
"Come on, Paul! Those bits and pieces, it could have been someone else even Mal or anyone!"
"No, you are wrong," Paul shook his head, showing that he couldn't agree with any word John was saying. "You are underestimating yourself, John. It wasn't that simple! We were a group! George and Ringo were also playing theirs parts."
"Yes, and you were playing theirs parts quite well too," said John with a broad grin.
"So here we go again? You want to blame me for it?"
"No! I’m just trying to make you understand how good you are!”
"And what about "How Do You Sleep?'"
John stopped grinning as if Paul brought subject he didn't want to discuss.
"I said I am sorry! It was more about me than you..."
"George and Ringo were recording it with you, weren't they?" Paul asked in a hurt voice.
John nodded and looked away not able to hold Paul's stare.
"I still don't understand why you all turn so bitchy on me? All I wanted was out."
"It was so complicated, Paul, I was so bloody frightened! I was with you all my life, I didn't know how I was going to be with someone else!"
"Me too, John! Me too!" Paul was so glad that they shared the same feeling. "I was so fucking afraid myself! What was I going to do?! I never really played with anybody except you guys! And I wanted to make music, I didn't know anything else! But I couldn't do it alone forever! It was easier for you three, you were still working together for sometime and I was alone..." the painful memories were ready to bring Paul to fresh tears, but he hold them back, swallowing hard.
"Then why you wanted to break free so much?"
"You don't remember, do you? Or you were so busy with your bed and antiwar campaign, that you haven’t even noticed? You and Klein were putting me down at every opportunity! I have to fight to release my album the way I wanted it! I couldn't get my money - and I had the family to support! We were living on Linda's savings! It was all bloody humiliating! And then, you know…" Paul stooped to think of exact words. "I could have submitted to anything, but when you, Klein and that other bastard got to my songs - that was the last straw! You didn't even bother to let me know what you have done!"
"We couldn't get in touch with you..."
"Bullshit!" Paul cut him off. "I was right there in the same studio, making McCartney album! Why?! Why you treated me that way?! That meant I couldn't make my music anymore! And if Klein would think that my solo work wasn't commercial or something, so he would have changed it, and I wouldn't be able to do anything?! Brain never got to our music! It wasn't his business!"
John sat in silence, not even dare to look at Paul’s eyes, he was asking himself the same question "Why?"
"And then, you left me no other choice except drag us all to court! Just think about it, what would you do in my place?"
"Talk to us," John said quietly.
"Didn't I?"
"You did," he answered even more quieter, he wanted the chair to swallow him, he was really ashamed, and just hoped Paul would stop his rant. But Paul wasn't going to loose that opportunity, he had to leave through so much pain at that time, he just has to let John know about what he had put him through.
"And what did you answer?"
"Get well..."
"So you remember? Then why were you so bloody angry with me? You left me no choice, except finish that fucking partnership forever! Or you wanted to keep humiliating me, showing your power over that McCartney bustard! But all of your and Klein power was on the bloody piece of paper I didn't even sigh!"
"Stop it, Paul, please," John looked at him, hoping Paul would show some mercy. "I came here to apologize! I came here to bring back our lost friendship..."
"Friendship?" Paul, started to laugh nervously. "Friendship? What exactly do you understand at that word?" without waiting for an answer he continued bitterly. "I had a good friend a long time ago, I was ready to give up my life for him, but he decided to accuse me of the all sins in the world, just because he was frightened..."
There was long silence, John look up at Paul and said softly.
"When did you become so cruel?"
"I have got good teachers," Paul still didn't think that he has gone too far, he has so much on his chest, he wanted John to know about it. "I am not made of stone, John, when you ask me something, please understand that I'm serious about it, not like you. Today you say and mean one thing, tomorrow another. The first time you put me down I had the fucking break down. I won't be able to get through another one like that. You think it was the worse time of my life?” he pointed his head at the pictures ”It was not. It certainly wasn't the best either, but compared to what you had put me through it was nothing! If not for Linda, I would have been dead by now! Do you understand it? So please, whatever you say now, think about it! All right? Think about it really hard, does it really what you want or you want to use me again for your own purposes?"
There was long pause; John was sitting there with no visible emotions.
"Paul, I know perfectly well, what I have put you through, if I didn't I wouldn't have been here. I was looking through some old crap at home, and found this, and it was like thunder, as if I woke up from dragged dream. Every word I said to you in the hospital came back, as if I was right there beside your bed again. You didn't even hear me, did you?" Paul shook his head. "I hoped you did, I hoped it would revive you from your unconsciousness, but you were so fucking bad. And it was my fucking fault."
Paul wanted to say "no", but John cut him off.
"Just listen, all right? You said it yourself, they were bloody Kuklus Klan freaks! So don't tell me you don't see the link to my Jesus Christ remark! But my point is not about that. I promised you, that I will always be there for you, never let you suffer because of me, never let you down..." now Paul could clearly see two tears slide down John's cheeks. He turned way for a moment but didn't wiped them. "I have let you down, I have betrayed you every possible way, I have made you suffer more than that bloody fucking bastards! So please don't tell me what exactly I have done!"
Paul looked at his hands, he was very amazed but calm. As for John he was struggling not to break down into hysterical sobs as he continued.
"So now, if you just turn me down, I would perfectly understand, I would probably have done the same, I just... I just thought you are better than me..." and than he couldn't hold them anymore, so he started crying, something Paul haven't seen since his mother's death. He got up, came closer to John and embraced him in his arms, John leaned forward and put his head on Paul's belly, making dump spot on his shirt.
"Why, Paul? Why this happened to us?"
"Sh-sh, sh-sh, it's all right, I'm here, everything gonna be fine, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, shouldn't have said all this shit, I'm sorry, we gonna be fine," Paul was trying to soothe him, but John was just breaking in new waves of sobs. Paul was stroking his head with one hand and holding him tight with the other.
John's hands were on his knees, but then he put them around Paul's waist and started mumble something, hard to understand.
"What have I done, Macca? What am I gonna do now? How will I live... I don't want to be bloody fucking bastard I am..."
"You are not, Johnny, you are not, come on! Don't torture yourself, come on, stop it! You hear me?" he pushed himself away from John to look at his friends face. His eyes were swollen and his cheeks bright red. John took off his glasses to wipe tears from them.
"What have I done, Macca, what have I done..."
"You look a fright, Lennon! Lets get up, I have something to lighten our mood," he smiled and tapped John on the back, to make him stand and follow him. John reluctantly got up and followed wiping his face with right hand sleeve, Paul turned around smiling to check, whether John was coming.
They came to a small room at the top floor, which had small sofa, one armchair, and a coffee table. Noticing Paul's guitar in the corner, John understood that it was his room.
"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back."
He came back with two already rolled joints and lighter.
"You don't have anything stronger, do you?" John's nose was running, from constant wiping it was becoming as red as his cheeks, and he put on his glasses to cover his bloodshot eyes.
"No, but believe me this will knock you out!"
John was sitting at the sofa with crossed legs underneath him. Paul sat on the floor leaning his back at the armchair, he lit both joints and passed one to John. They were smoking quietly.
For some strange reason Paul was feeling much better. As years have past he forgot how vulnerable John could be. And his tough guy image, was only on the surface as some kind of defense. And now the guard came down and here he was as Paul remembered him in the best years of their friendship.
"What the hell are you grinning about?" John asked trying to appear angry, but couldn't hold his smile.
Paul was also smiling, but kept quite, the drag was kicking in. Both were dead tired of their conversation and closed theirs eyes almost together.
"Good stuff..." muttered John with still closed eyes.
There was long silence and then Paul whispered.
"I love you..."
John opened his eyes, Paul felt his stare and did the same. They were not smiling, just looking at each other, with so much sorrow and regret in their eyes.
"I thought you did, but then Yoko persuaded me, that you cared about me as long as it was concerning songs, and didn't give a damn about anything else."
Paul wasn't in the mood to argue. He was looking into John's features, as if trying to see there something new, instead he was looking for an old John, the one he once knew.
"Are you there?" he asked as if in the daze.
"Where?" asked John. It was obvious that pot hit Paul much harder, probably because John was used to more strong drugs or maybe Paul was more tired.
"You... are you still there... In your body?"
"Are you tripping, Paul? It was one fucking joint!" he said giggling.
"Again... You... I don't like you... I like another one... He was just there... Just a couple minutes ago..." Paul was still looking at John with his sad eyes, and then a small smile crept into his face. "Do I change as you do?"
It took eternity for John to answer, but nobody noticed, he started to understand what Paul was getting at.
"You are worse than me... Nobody knows you, I really doubt that you know which one of you is real," it made him laugh, but Paul was serious.
"Do you know the real John Lennon?" he asked John, dragging on the remaining of the joint and than putting it on the table.
"I do... And I don't like what I see..." thoughts were flying from one place to another, John wanted to stop that flow and trace them back to the beginning. "You said you love me... Now or you loved me before?
"Oh! Shit!" suddenly Paul started laughing hysterically. "I was so fucking fond of you! I thought you were the greatest guy on the planet! But you were lousy player, did you know that? I taught you everything you know! But still I liked you so fucking much!"
John started giggling himself.
"Tell you the truth, I was thinking exactly the same shit about you! I was thinking this little prick is younger than me, but so bloody great!" John burst out laughing.
They were laughing for some time, but then stopped and were deep in there's thoughts again.
"I love you too," John said seriously. "Do you know that?"
Paul nodded, closing his eyes, he was really tired and was ready to sleep.
"Did you get it? I am so sorry for everything I have done... Do you hear me?"
Again he nodded, but this time his head fell back at the chair behind him and didn't move.
"You are tired, sleep," John was looking at him with such an affection in his eyes, as if he had found something he had lost long time ago and wanted to treasure it from now on. "I have so fucking missed you Macca. I am glad you are not hearing me, I am becoming bloody soft," he smiled to himself and closed his eyes. "I will miss you, Macca and you won't, I know you bloody well!"