I Miss You - McLennon AU

3.

"Boys... I am heading off for work now!" A voice called from the kitchen, that was followed by a loud noise that sounded like keys jingling. "Now I know I'm on a late shift and it's a Friday... But that does not mean you can stay up too late..."

"But Mimi..." John whined, leaning forward on the sofa in a pouty manner.

The woman's head soon popped out from behind the door.

"John, do not even try." She accused, eying the boy fondly. Paul began to snicker, as John groaned. "There is some pop corn in the kitchen for you to make... And I bought you boy's some Coca Cola from Penny's- John, you know where the bottle opener is."

"Aye, captain." He teased, and Paul had to bite his knuckles to not laugh.

"I will lock the door as I leave..." She completely brushed past him. "...But I should be back by around 4am. That sound okay?"

"Yeah." John shrugged, heading for the TV.

"Yes." Paul smiled, sweetly.

"Good, good..." She took a last glance around the room. "Goodbye, boys!"

She made her way out of the living room and down the corridor.

"Goodbye!" They yelled, in sync.

In the matter of a few seconds the front door slammed shut, the keys turned to lock it, and the television flicked on. It was bright, small, and the picture was black and white. Paul had obviously seen black and white films in the past, but never on a black and white television.

"So." John spoke, backing up to the sofa and plopping himself next to Paul. Almost immediately, he snuck a hand around Paul's shoulder and rested it around him. "What'd you think about the telly?"

"It's amazing." Paul admitted, gazing at it in awe.

"Yeah, but it's no 50 inch colour telly, right?"

"You get sick of seeing them everywhere after a while... But a piece like this. It's so unique, so clever." Paul admitted, and John chuckled.

"You sound like some sort of antique dealer."

"My Da' enjoys watching those sort of shows, guess I picked it up." Paul shrugged, eyes remaining on the flashing black and white pictures on the television.

"What... What's your Da' like?" John asked, turning his head to the side to face Paul. Paul did not look back, just continued to stare at the television.

"Well, he's a very confident man. A very strong and firm yet kind man... He manages to stay calm and confined, even when the world is falling around him..." Paul spoke, his voice trailing off. "When my mother first got sick, he managed to hold it together for her... He's good at doin' that, Y'know? Even as she got worse and worse until the day she passed he remained strong... Always there for us."

"And I'm sure you miss him..." John added, sweetly.

"I do... And Mike. And I feel ever so horrible that I am not there to help them through this time..." He sighed, looking to his hands. "There's just nothing I can do."

"Macca, I am so sorry..." John frowned.

"It's not your fault." Paul shook his head, and John immediately pulled him into his arms.

There was a short break, where both John and Paul began to stare at the carpet. It was a light brown colour, like milky coffee.

"It's not your's either..." John admitted, after a few seconds of silence.

All Paul could do was silently nod a few times, before tucking his head into John's neck. The older boy kissed him on his forehead, sweetly, before running his hands through his hair.

"C'mon, eh? Let's light the fire, make that popcorn, get the drinks and put something on the telly, eh? I heard there's a good western on tonight..." John pointed out, and a small smile appeared on Paul's face. He was trying to calm himself down.

"Aye... I like that idea, Johnny..." Paul agreed.

As John stood up, he placed a sweet kiss on Paul's lips, before heading towards the kitchen.

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21st November, 2019

"So... He's getting better?" Paul could hear his father ask in the distance. His voice was muffled, but he could still make sense of it.

"Indeed..." A man, who Paul presumed was the doctor, responded. "The injury in his knee is on the same leg as his broken one, and his broken arm is on the other side. This means that he will be able to manage with only one crutch, and will not need a wheel chair..."

"Oh... Oh, well I suppose that is good news..."

"Yes. I suppose so." The man responded, and suddenly, Paul could hear not talking. He assumed the man had left.

He began to try his best to regain full consciousness once again. It was difficult, but not as difficult as the sleepy feeling wasn't there. He came around soon enough, noticing his father and Mike sat next to him. The younger boy was on his phone, whilst Jim was staring at the door.

"Da'?" Paul mumbled, and Jim immediately turned around at the sound of his sons voice.

"Paul... Oh my!" The man smiled. "Good morning!" He spoke, ever so cheerful.

Mike had finally looked up from his phone.

"Mornin'" Paul responded, voice groggy.

"You woke up at a great time. We have a few minutes here before I have to drop Mike off at school... But I wished for you to wake up I had to leave because we have good news!"

"What is it?" Paul asked, already knowing mostly what it would be. He had been here before.

"You're allowed out to be discharged? Isn't that great?"

Though this time it should have been great, it didn't seem it. He wasn't homeless this time, and being out of the hospital would even mean that he could start his research. But once he was out, he would have to begin getting on with life. He didn't like the thought of getting on with his life without John in it.

"That's great, Da'." Paul smiled, as much as he could. He felt so depressed. "When?"

"In just a matter of hours. They're just going to do some final checks and then they'll get you your crutches." The man grinned, reaching over to place a hand over Paul's. "However, you will be on bed rest for a few days..."

"How many days?" Paul asked, wearily.

"Around a week." Jim pointed out, and Paul cursed mentally.

How long did he have to wait until he found the truth?

How would he find the truth anyway... It probably wasn't even possible.

"Good." Paul responded, masking over his sadness.

When would he be free...?