Hello,
It is my first post but I have been reading this community for a couple of month.
I love your discussions and my point of view is quite the same probably except slash moments. I do believe they loved each other but in some different way.
I wrote this fan-fiction half a year ago but couldn't gather my courage to post it anywhere, but after abromeds posted that sweet pictures two days ago and many of you were involved in that discussion, and mentioned KKK and it kind of link with my story so I decided to post it eventually!
But there are several warnings: first of all it needs editing. Because English is not my native language. I would really appreciate If anyone would be kind enough to edit it or at least correct most obvious mistakes.
Second it is continuation from another fan-fiction I have but I hope everything would be easy to understand without retelling the first story.
And the last: please read to the end, 'cause the first bit about John and Yoko it is not very good and sorry if here are some Yoko lovers I didn't want to offend anyone.
Please send your comments, I know it doesn't stand to the stories of the authors like smilesawakeyou hb_princess portamental and many more I like very much but there were points when I had to write much more simpler because of the language.

Title: Get out (that's the way Word saved it)
Author: jerom2003
Word Count: 5463
Rating: 18 (drugs, angst, Paul in pain)
Summary: 1974, John's lost weekend and so they meet!



"Get out," John said quietly, when Yoko entered the room.
She thought that she misheard him, and started babbling something about where she has 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 UOT!" John rose from the chair and was standing dangerously above her. She backed up a few paces but was still staring at him.
That made him really angry and he dashed himself at her as if trying to push her outside or even punch her. She automatically turned around and run towards the bedroom, John followed. They run after each other for some time. Eventually panting Yoko stopped in the living room and raised her arms in surrender.
"All right, just tell me what happened?"
"That happened 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 and than asked with an expression on her face as if she already knew the answer.
"Who do you talked to?"
"Myself, bitch! I should have done it ages ago!"
Yoko didn't know what to say, she never saw him like that. They had quarrels and fights, but never like that. She could feel him mean every word he said.
"Now you are quiet," John said smirking "So this is true, you used me to launch your fucking artistic carrier?! You never loved me, and if so why you needed me isolated? Made me betray all my friends..."
"I didn't made you, you did it yourself," Yoko started to understand what was all about and it was making her angry, but right now she wanted to know who he had talked to.
"I should have listen to them, but you are right I did it myself. So now I want to correct all my mistakes. And the first thing I need to do is get rid of you!"
"So it is so easy for you to just get rid of me! And you think you life would be better?"
"I don't want 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, on all of them was quite savagely beaten man from different angles and different positions with cuffed hands behind his back.
"Who is he?"
"Don't you see?"
She looked more carefully, but couldn't believe her eyes.
"It is 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 this all have to do with me?"
"Don't play dump! O.k. If you are not leaving than I will go!"
He went to his study, picked up his passport and stormed out of their flat without even bothering to put on coat or take some money.

He was walking around Central Park making circles, he was thinking hard to figure out what to do. He wasn't thinking about his current situation where to sleep and what to eat, he was trying to make imaginary speech, what he was going to say to Paul. He knew him too well and he knew that Paul didn't care about him anymore, he was talking to him, smiling, but he would prefer he didn't, he was doing the same to everybody, and he didn't want to be everybody to Paul. But Paul has every fucking right to treat him like that, even worse. Himself he would have never forgive anybody for something he did to Paul so what the hell he was going to do?! Paul was better than him, probably he would forgive him... Probably... Probably 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 quite deserted around. John was tired. It didn't take him long to decide whom to call. May (Pang) was very glad to offer him her help in anything.

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

John arrived to Paul’s cottage he had rented in the East Hampton. It was not easy to find and then John has to wait for some time, which made him wonder whether he was at the right place. Eventually Paul opened the door, it was obvious he was harrying from somewhere, he was barefoot, in the comfortably looking linen clothes.
"Hello, Johnny," he said smiling.
"Hello, Paul, really glad to see you!" John answered sincerely, enveloping his arms around 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 in mid sentence and looked around to see where to go. Paul led the way to the kitchen, noticing a brown envelope in John's hand.
"It'll be in a second," said Paul arranging kettle and cups.
"Where is Linda?"
"At Lee's with kids."
John smiled to himself, understanding that Paul was also preparing for conversation, but how the hell he would know that he would be without Yoko. Paul would not risk facing John and Yoko alone.
While Paul was preparing tea nobody uttered a word, he wanted to ask John why he 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! Should buy one here just don't have spare money."
"You?" John smiled. "You are 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 is 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, yet."
"You don't trust me?" John looked hurt.
"I will, I promise, but not now, ok?"
John nodded and sipped from the cup Paul has just placed before him.
"Haven't tasted it in ages, where did you get it? Carrying supplies anywhere you go?" John was smiling.
"No," Paul smiled back. "Lee asked to bring some to him, so I took some extra boxes for myself, feels like home, at least during tea time." They spent some time in their own thoughts, and then 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," was all he said, turning his attention back to his tea.
"You don't care, do you?"
"It is not that I don't care, I'm just surprised."
Again they sipped tea in silence. Paul didn't want any argument with John, he was tired of it long time ago and he still didn't understand the reason of John's visit.
"I'm sorry, it is not why I am here." He doesn't know how to say what he wanted to say. Why it was so hard for him to apologize before his best friend. "Here,' he pushed brown envelope towards Paul. "I think it should belong to you."
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 that Paul's face fell the moment he saw what exactly it was. He became as white as a sheet in a moment of seconds and his hands where trembling visibly. He looked through all six pictures, put them down and looked at John with such hurtful expression that John was ready to cry himself.
"Why?" he asked softly.
"Why what?"
"Why have you brought me this?"
"It is yours."
"Is it why you wanted to meet me?! To bring this fucking thing up?!"
Now Paul was furious and openly shouting at him. At one hand he wanted to break Paul's composure, but on the other he didn't want to see him like this.
"It is 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 is very important!"
"Important to whom? You?!"
John lowered his head, it was not the conversation he imagined in his head. Paul was really hurt, not just indifferent, as he thought he would be, but deeply hurt! But what the hell did he expect after what he has done to him. Everybody was telling him that Paul has no real feelings, he knew it was not true, he just didn't show them, at least not to everyone. So in this case he was still lucky to be among few!
"Look, Paul, it is really hard for me..."
"Again YOU, YOU, YOU! What about me?! I've had enough solving your fucking problems! What about me?! Do you thing it was easy for me to forget it?! Why you bringing it all up again?!" He shook his head in despair, as if saying what he's gonna do with someone like John, and fell back at 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 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 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 to fly home, and then they would release you. They have thrown you under my gate and buzzed the intercom. Cynthia thought I would loose my mind after seeing you like that. I will never forget it... Never! Why you didn't sign those papers?"
"You were my friend," Paul said softly after a brief pause still looking at his photos, but than he raised his eyes at John. "And besides it wouldn't change anything, the warden and the rest of them were crazy Kuklus Klan bastards! They would do it anyway, so I still don't get why 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! Did 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 have raped her, not you!"
"But they were making 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 have 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 was glad he had said it eventually, but he stopped suddenly, and Paul has to ask.
"What for?"
"For everything... For everything, for this," he nodded towards pictures, and continued. "For break up, for all I said about you and Linda, for Klein, for Yoko, for "How Do You Sleep", for being such a fucking bustard to my best friend..."
He did it! He said it! He was so happy he managed it, he was barely able to keep his smile to himself, he just hoped Paul would appreciate his effort.
Paul was really astonished, to hear something like that from Lennon - that was really unbelievable! He didn't know what to answer him, and somewhere inside he was still deeply hurt, and he was not sure that these words were able to heal his feelings.
John was looking at him waiting for his appreciation, and it really got to him.
"So what are you waiting from me now?" he said quite rudely.
John was taken aback with this question, but managed.
"I was hoping you would forgive me..."
"I have done it a long time ago! I wouldn't sit here with you if I haven't, would I?"
John didn't like the look on Paul's face one bit, he was smirking not at all in 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, what you haven't heard before?"
"All what you think about me!"
"I don't think about you! That is the problem!" Paul got up picked up a pack of cigarettes from the cupboard, nervously shook one out and lit it.
"You are lying, Paul!" John said, while Paul placed ashtray before himself and pushed the pack and lighter to John, he sat down and leaned at the back of the chair to answer.
"O.k. Let's say I WAS thinking about you, but 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 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 loose 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 was not going to be easy, but he deserved it, he looked up again at Paul and said defensively. "She had fucking bewitched me!"
"Bewitched is someone who wants to be bewitched. Don't blame her in something you have done yourself!"
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 leave 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 he 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 you were 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 have 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 face. His eyes were swollen and his cheeks bright red, he 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 small coffee table, noticing Paul's guitar in the corner, he 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 argument, 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 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!"