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fanfic - jerom2003
jerom2003
jerom2003
fanfic
Title: Get out (that's the way Word saved it)
Author: jerom2003
Word Count: 5463
Rating: 18 (drugs, angst)
Summary: 1974, John's lost weekend and so they met.
Many thanks to the editor of this part minds_opaque!


"Get out," John said quietly, when Yoko entered the room.

She thought she had misheard him, and started babbling something about where she had been.

"I said get out!" John repeated.

She stopped her empty talking and looked at him, bewildered.

"Don't you fucking hear me?! I said GET OUT!"

John rose from the chair and stood looming dangerously over her. She backed up a few paces but continued staring at him. That made him angrier and he rushed towards her as if trying to push her outside or even punch her. She turned around automatically and ran towards the bedroom. John followed. He ran after her for some time. Eventually, panting, Yoko stopped in the living room and raised her arms in surrender.

"All right, just tell me what happened?"

“It happened a long time ago. Now I want you out of my life!”

"What the hell have I done?"

"It would take all day to count all that you have done to fucked up my life!"

She was silent for a moment. Then she asked, “Whom did you talk to?” She looked as if she already knew the answer.

"Myself, bitch! I should have done it ages ago!"

Yoko didn’t know what to say. She had never seen him like this. They’d had quarrels and fights, but never like this. She could feel that he meant every word.

“You’re quiet now,” John said, smirking. “So it’s true, you used me to launch your fucking artistic career? If you never loved me, why did you need me isolated? Why did you make me betray all my friends?”

“I didn’t make you. You did it yourself,” said Yoko, starting to understand what it was all about. That made her angry, but right now, she wanted to know whom he had talked to.

“I should have listened to them, but you’re right. I did it myself,” said John. “So now I want to correct all my mistakes. And the first thing I need to do is get rid of you!”

“And you think life would be better if you got rid of me?”

“I don’t care about better or worse. I did something really wrong and I want to try and change it."

"What exactly did you do wrong? Can you at least tell me?"

"Will you leave me alone if I do?"

Yoko nodded silently.

"Here," he looked towards the table, where she saw several photographs. She picked them up. All of them showed a savagely beaten man with cuffed hands behind his back. “Who is he?”

“Don’t you see?”

She looked more carefully and couldn’t believe her eyes. “It’s Paul.”

She raised her head to look at John.

"It happened a long time ago, in '66, after I made that stupid remark about Jesus Christ. And he had to pay for it like that."

She wanted to ask more, but John roughly pulled pictures out of her hand and put them in the brown envelope. "So are you satisfied now?"
“But what does all this have to do with me?”

"Don't play dumb! O.K., if you’re not leaving, then I’ll go!”

He went to his study, picked up his passport and stormed out of their flat without even bothering to put on a coat or take some money.

He was walking in circles in Central Park, trying to figure out what to do. He wasn’t thinking about what he would eat and where he would sleep now. He was rehearsing what he was going to say to Paul. He knew Paul too well.

He knew that Paul didn't care about him anymore, he was talking to him, smiling, but John would prefer he didn't, he was doing the same to everybody, and he didn't want to be everybody to his best friend. But Paul has every fucking right to treat him like that, even worse. If anybody hurt him like he had hurt Paul he would never ever forgave him, so what the hell he was going to do?! Paul was better than him, probably he would forgive him... Probably... or maybe he would just say it to get rid of him. But he has to try it anyway, he has no other choice.

It was already dark, and Central Park was quite deserted. John was tired. He decided to call May Pang; he knew she would be glad to help him with anything.

* * *

Calling Paul was easy. He was very sweet. He said he was going to stay in New York for a couple of days anyway to visit Linda’s parents, before going to Nashville to record. Paul was surprised to hear from him, but didn’t show it. John didn’t say anything about the split with Yoko; Paul would find out when they met, anyway.

* * *

John arrived at Paul’s cottage he had rented in the East Hampton. It was not easy to find, and then John had to wait outside the front door for so long that he wondered whether he was at the right place. Eventually Paul opened the door. It was obvious he was hurrying from somewhere; he was barefoot and wore comfortable looking linen clothes.

"Hello, Johnny," he said smiling.

"Hello, Paul, really glad to see you!" John answered sincerely, wrapping his arms around a surprised Paul, who hugged him back, then let him into the house and closed the door.

"Are you alone?" Paul asked, trying not to show his mockery.

John didn't even answer, which surprised Paul even more, knowing John's sharp tongue.

"Cup of tea or something...?"

"Tea would be fine," John cut him off in mid sentence, looking around to see where to go. As Paul led the way to the kitchen, he noticed a brown envelope in John's hand.

"It'll be in a second," said Paul, arranging kettle and cups.

"Where's Linda?"

"At Lee's with the kids."

John smiled to himself, understanding that Paul was also preparing for their conversation, but how the hell did he know Yoko wouldn't be there? Paul would not risk facing John and Yoko alone.

While Paul was preparing tea nobody uttered a word. Paul wanted to ask why John was so eager to meet him, but didn't want to rush things.

"Nice house," John said to break the awkward silence.

"Rented, every time something new - I hate it! I should buy one here but I just don't have spare money."

"You?" John smiled. "You're topping the charts right now!"

"You know it means nothing. We have got top five and I still have to take mortgage to buy my home. But now it's different. Lee got me a great deal and I need to put all my money in to make it work out."

"What is it?"

"Sorry, can't tell you yet."

"You don't trust me?" John looked hurt.

"I will, I promise, but not now, ok?"

Paul placed a cup of tea before him. John nodded and sipped it.

"Haven't tasted it in ages, where did you get it? Carrying supplies everywhere you go?" John was smiling.

"No," Paul smiled back. "Lee asked to bring some to him, so I took some extra boxes for myself. Now it feels more like home, at least during tea time." They spent some time in their own thoughts, until Paul couldn't hide his curiosity anymore.

"So what it was you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I split with Yoko," John said quietly, looking for Paul's reaction.

"Oh," said Paul, turning his attention back to his tea.

"You don't care, do you?"

"It's not that I don't care, I'm just surprised."

Again they sipped their tea in silence. Paul didn't want to argue with John; he had tired of it a long time ago. But he still didn't understand the reason for John's visit.

"I'm sorry, that's not why I'm here." He didn't know how to say what he wanted to say. Why was it so hard for him to apologise to his best friend? "Here,' he said, pushing the brown envelope towards Paul. "I think you should have this."
Paul picked it up and slowly opened it. Somewhere inside he knew that it was something bad. John wasn't a guy who would bring anything nice to him.

John could see Paul's face fall the moment he saw what was inside. He became as white as a sheet and his hands trembled visibly. He looked through all six pictures, put them down and looked at John with such a hurt expression that John was ready to cry himself.

"Why?" Paul asked softly.

"Why what?"

"Why have you brought me this?"

"It's yours."

"Is that why you wanted to meet me?! To bring this fucking thing up?!"

Now Paul was furious and openly shouting at him. John wanted to break Paul's composure, but he didn't want to see his friend like this.

"That's not why I wanted to meet you!" John said desperately.

“Then what the hell do you want?!" Paul rose and was ready to see John to the door.

"Please, listen to me! It's very important!"

"Important to whom? You?!"

John lowered his head. This was not the conversation he imagined in his head. He had imagined Paul as indifferent, but Paul was deeply hurt! But what the hell do I expect after what I did to him? John thought. Everyone always told him that Paul had no real feelings. He knew it wasn't true. Paul just didn't show them, at least not to everyone. John was still lucky to be among the few who knew how Paul felt.

"Look, Paul, this is hard for me..."

"Again YOU, YOU, YOU! What about me?! I've had enough of solving your fucking problems! What about me?! Do you think it was easy for me to forget it?! Why are you bringing it all up again?!" He shook his head in despair. John was the only best friend he ever had and he really loved him, but sometimes he didn’t know what to do with him. He fell back in his chair, looking briefly at the pictures again.

"I don't really think about it any more," he continued quietly. "It was long time ago, a lot changed since then. How did you get them in the first place?"

"We went to press after your arrest and they sent it as a warning, so we would shut up, otherwise they would start investigation in court based on the girls testimony and send you in forever or even kill you."

Paul looked at the pictures again. “I didn’t realize I was that bad. Did I really look like that?”

"Worse, Paul, much worse. All the doctors said that it was a miracle you stayed alive. They let me visit you there. You didn’t know, did you?"

Paul shook his head "no".

“You were unconscious, battered, bruised, covered with blood. I thought you were dead! I was on my knees pleading with them to let you go, or at least stop beating you, but they did it right in front of me! I asked them to let me take your place but it was all in vain. They said they wanted to break you, to make you sign those papers. I said that if they let me talk to you, you would have done it, but again it was impossible. So we agreed that we all have had to fly home, and then they would release you. They threw you under my gate and buzzed the intercom. Cynthia thought I would lose my mind after seeing you like that. I will never forget it... Never! Why didn’t you sign those papers?"

"You were my friend," Paul said softly after a brief pause, still looking at his photos. Then he looked up at John. “And besides, it wouldn’t change anything. The warden and the rest of them were crazy Ku Klux Klan bastards! They would have done it anyway. So why are you bringing this up? We talked about it. I told you it wasn’t your fucking fault! What do you want now?"

"But it was, Paul..."

"Oh, please! Not again!" he interrupted John in mid sentence. "I'm not going to go through it all again! I started the row with police, not you! Do you get it?! It was me! I was with this fucking girl, who happened to be illegal, not you! And they made her testify that I raped her, not you!"

"But they wanted to make you sign papers that I was with you.”

"How the hell did you find out about it anyway?" Paul was a bit irritated with this conversation, as he was many years before.

"You didn't want to talk about it at that time, so we hired a detective from Scotland Yard to find out everything. Actually we did it right after we came home, but they came back with the full report only after your release."

"So what is your point with all of this now? I still don't get it."

"I ... I wanted to apologize," John said eventually, glad he managed to say it. But he stopped suddenly, and Paul had to ask.

"What for?"

“For everything…For everything…for this.” He nodded towards the pictures, and continued. "For the break up, for all I said about you and Linda, for Klein, for Yoko, for "How Do You Sleep", for being such a fucking bastard to my best friend..."

He did it! He said it! He was so happy he managed it, could barely keep his smile to himself. He just hoped Paul would appreciate his effort. Paul was astonished to hear something like that from Lennon—it was unbelievable! He didn’t know how to reply. Somewhere inside, he was still deeply hurt, and he wasn’t sure that John’s words could heal his pain.

John was looking at him, waiting for his appreciation. He wasn’t getting any, and it bothered him.

For some strange reason Paul felt nothing but anger.

“So what are you waiting for now?” Paul said, quite rudely.

John was taken aback by this question, but managed.

"I was hoping you would forgive me..."

“I did it a long time ago! I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I hadn’t, would I?” John didn’t like the look on Paul’s face one bit; he was smirking in a not at all nice way.

"So why don't you dash it all in my face right now?!" John was getting angry, raising his voice.

“What, John?! What do you want to hear that you haven’t heard before?”

“What you think about me!”

"I don't think about you! That’s the problem!" Paul got up, picked up a pack of cigarettes from the cupboard, nervously shook one out, and lit it.

"You’re lying, Paul!" John said.

Paul placed the ashtray in front of him, pushed the pack and lighter to John, and sat down. He leaned at the back of the chair and dragged his smoke. After he exhaled slowly he answered.

"O.k. Let's say I WAS thinking about you. I'm not now, believe me! I don't have the fucking time for it!"

"So tell me what exactly it was you were thinking?"

Paul didn't know how to put all his feeling into words, but he wanted to do it. He knew that this was probably his only chance to make things straight with John before he would be became obsessed with someone else like Yoko. But then suddenly Paul wanted to ask John one question.

"Did you really mean everything you said about me?" Somehow this question brought unwilling tears to his eyes.

Seeing Paul's tears John again was taken aback and understood that he started a game that he would lose anyway.

"Of course not! For Christ's sake, you knew I was doing it for her!"

"But it hurt, you wanted to hurt me... Why? What have I done to you?"

"Nothing... Nothing I can't thank you for now..." John looked at the unlighted cigarette in his hands. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he deserved it. He looked up again at Paul and said defensively. "She had fucking bewitched me!"

“You can’t bewitch someone who doesn’t want to be bewitched. Don’t blame her for something you did yourself!” John didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. Paul was a hundred percent right.


Authors note: it is not the end, but the end of the edited version.

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Comments
forsomeone From: forsomeone Date: April 19th, 2007 10:36 pm (UTC) (Link)
I really liked this. It's an interesting story line to go with and sometimes I'm unfortunatley a sucker for Paul in Pain stories. Expecially after the day that I had today. I think that the dilouge in here was probably your strongest point and quite honestly, your english is much better than I expected. I really encourage you to editing the second part. If you need help with any of it, just let me know.
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