This Boy - Mclennon

Chapter 25: Your Mother Should Know

A/N: i just wanted to say thank you to all of you readers and all of the support i have been given is amazing. love you all! 

~John's~

Forty-six minutes.

My mind was thinking a million words per second.

Paul. Paul. Paul. Alone. Exposed. Hopeless. Paul. Paul. Paul.

My heart was beating a million beats per second. Paul had been gone for forty-six minutes.

Forty-seven minutes.

It rang in my head like an alarm clock. I was convinced that if I took one of my pills it would calm the voices down. I had never felt so scared, angry and upset more than this moment. I was constantly reminded that at the end of the day, John Winston Lennon was alone.

Forty-eight minutes.

Alone in this dirty, dim lit hospital room. Alone with the once white curtains that were turning into a horrible yellow stain of a colour. Alone with the six lightbulbs, one of which was flickering repeatedly.

Forty-nine minutes.

"I can't do this anymore, bloody hell, it's too much," I said out loud to myself. Bloody right it's too hard, you can't keep on this McCartney lad forever. It's just going to keep getting harder and harder with that one, isn't it? "You're wrong!" I yelled to myself, another reminder of how absolutely crazy I was going. These machines are doin' it t'ya. Messin' ye right up. Take em out. I examined the tube going into my arm and the machines and wires attached to my chest.

Fifty minutes.

I began ripping them out. First I ripped the wires off of my chest, causing a few of the machines to beep like mad. Then I ripped the tube out of my arm, causing blood to shoot out of me like some sort of film. It made sense, the machines were messing with my brain. That was why.

Fifty-one minutes.

It took Paul fifty-one minutes to come back to me. When he opened the door, it was obvious he wasn't surprised in the slightest at what I had done. Paul already had a frown on his face when he entered the room, but when he realized I was bleeding out of my arm where that tube should've been he simply sighed and approached me. He threw my bottle of pills on the side table and proceeded to wrap up my arm. As he did so, I grabbed my medication and popped three pills. I knew that was pushing it, but they needed to help me and they needed to help me now. Tell precious Paul to leave. "Are you okay, John?" Paul asked as he finished wrapping up my arm, sitting down next to my bed. Nope, no you're not. I shook my head to try and ignore the voices. "I'm fine Paul. The medication will kick in, soon I hope." I tried to smile.

I looked at him and realized he was staring down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs slowly. "Paul?" I tried to get his attention. We were interrupted by a doctor barging in. I quickly pulled the sheet up over my arms to make sure he didn't notice I had ripped tubes and wires out of myself. "Alright John, looks like you're good to go, son." He began to tell me as he handed me a piece of paper. "These are the names and numbers of the officer and lawyer who are interested in expanding your case with the man who stabbed you's son. Officer says he put his own son in the hospital." The doctor told me as if this was new information to me. I glanced at Paul, who didn't even flinch. Go home. The voices began to sound different, perhaps they were fading away again.

"Thanks Doc. I'll be in touch with them." I smiled, hoping he would take the hint to leave. "Come back in a week to have your stitches removed, I'll send a nurse in momentarily to help remove your IV and what not. But, all the best son." He smiled back at me and exited the room. I looked back over to Paul.