Find My Way (A Paul McCartney Fanfiction)

(12)

"Come here, lass," she said in a thick, Irish accent, gesturing for me to join her by the bed. "He's not going anywhere."

"He'd better not," I answered, suppressing the tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks.

"He shan't, you know. He seems like too much of a lovely boy to do such a ghastly thing. He looks just like a young Paul McCartney, too, I have to say," she blushed as she caressed his cheek, but then shook herself reprovingly.

I couldn't help but smile a bit. "He's gotten that a lot recently."

"Aye, I imagine so," she chuckled as she began reading the thermometer she'd taken from between his thin lips.

"Has he a temperature?" I inquired nervously.

The nurse frowned slightly and replied, "I'm afraid so. A 38 degree one, at that. But, not to worry," she then began in a more cheerful tone, "we'll get it back to normal soon enough."

With that, I watched as she took out a syringe and added something to Paul's IV. That done, she pulled the covers closer to his chin after he'd begun to whimper in his sleep, as if he was in pain. I could tell that my heart wasn't the only one breaking for him, because the nurse looked as though she could cry at the thought of such an innocent person hurting.

"There, there, little lad," she cooed with a pat to his hand. "We'll get you feeling better soon. Now," she said as she turned towards me, "I'm going to give you some privacy. I've already intruded on your time with him long enough."

"You're fine, don't worry," I assured her as she gave me a sympathetic smile before gathering her things and leaving the room.

Now that I was alone with Paul, I didn't quite know what to say or do. Therefore, I chose to pull up a chair and sit by his bed instead. I took his frighteningly cold hand in my warm one and studied his deathly appearance.

His face was so white that I found it unbelievable, and the fact that his hair was dark only accented it. He had harshly dark circles beneath his closed eyes, and I noticed with a pang of worry that his entire body seemed to be weakening and growing more fragile, as if he'd had some sort of fatal illness that was finally catching up with him.

"Oh, Paul," I began crying. "My poor baby, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have grown so close to you. I..."

"Please, don't be sorry, Molly," his hoarse, feeble voice said as he rose from the depths of unconsciousness.

"Paul," I breathed, relieved he was awake. "Are you alright?"

"Is that rhetorical?" he deadpanned with a frail smile.

I laughed despite my tears whilst I held onto his hand as if he'd drift away if I didn't. "I suppose it is."

"Good, because I was wondering about your sanity there for a second," he replied, as cheeky as ever.

I nearly thought he wasn't as bad off as he'd seemed, when he suddenly gasped in pain and stifled a cry. His face went even whiter than it had been, and sweat began beading on his forehead.

"Paul!" I exclaimed worriedly. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"It hurts, Molly," he moaned as tears brimmed in his scared hazel eyes.

"What does? How can I help you?" I inquired as I gathered him into my arms, the heat from his fever instantly warming me.

"You're already helping me," he winced, his voice thick with misery.

"Aww, Paulie," I sobbed, too tired to control my emotions any longer. "I am so, so sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for. I love you, Molly," he said as he suddenly stopped recoiling in pain and went relatively still.

I felt him turn towards me, and I soon found myself peering straight into his deep, beautiful eyes. In fact, I couldn't recall ever seeing his eyes look so beautiful.

"I love you, too, Paul," I wept.

He gave me the purest smile of love then, before those beautiful eyes closed and his body went slack, his chest no longer rising and falling. I heard the heart monitor beep without ceasing, and I felt my stomach drop with a sickening sense of fear and sadness.

Nurses came spilling into the room, and I watched in horror as they relentlessly tried to bring Paul back to life.

But it was no use, for Paul wouldn't come back.

And as the clock struck 12 AM, I heard a nurse declare time of death.

Then my entire world went black.

Oh my gosh, do you know how painful that was to write? Seriously, it really hurt me to write Paul dying because I never thought I'd have a story where that was actually called for. Plus, I love him so much, and therefore killing him goes against every fiber of my being. I'm now just wishing that I could hug and protect him from all bad things for the rest of my life. XD Anyway...keep in mind that there's still one more chapter to go, and I think it will prove a bit surprising to you, so please stick around! And thank you so much for reading even though this story hasn't been updated in a long time! I really appreciate it! ❤️