Queen & Beatles | OneShots

John Lennon - You Don't Get Me - Part 2

"That bag right there is full of things from the High Street that I picked out just for you. Why don't go up to your room and see what's in it." John prompted Jacob, handing him the bag.

"Can't I show mum?"

"It's a secret." John whispered.

"But-"

"Just for a bit, J." John's tone was gentle but pleading, as he lightly ruffled the boy's hair.

Jacob was smart for his age. Not in that he was advanced at school or anything. The little boy understood people. He knew when his Mum was sad from how quiet she got and he knew that his Dad wanted to talk to her alone from the glances he kept giving her. The boy pouted a little bit but did as he was told and took the bag.

John turned his attention to you.

"Sorry I'm late."

You nodded and stepped further into your living room as he followed.

"Tea?" You offered as you always did.

"No. I shouldn't stay long. I said I'd go and see George Martin this afternoon, you don't keep the big man waiting." He sort of joked.

"Surely you'll want to spend as much time as you can with Jacob then?" You half asked, half scolded.

He sighed and sat himself down on the sofa, running a hand through his hair as he did so. His eyes were heavy from a lack of sleep and his face was unshaved and stubbly. In fact, the mullet he'd been wearing for about a month now was almost long enough to be tied into a ponytail. You'd hate that. If he wasn't so worn down right now, you'd have told him that he needed a haircut.

"Just wanted to talk to you."

"I read the papers. Sorry about-"

"Yeah, well the bands been falling apart for some time, I was planning on leaving within the year myself. Obviously I'd tell you and the boys first but Paul's a twat so he didn't. George stormed out late last year and I thought that would be the end, but he came back. Cos' that's what we do, we always come back. But this feels final. Paul's... he's left. And he isn't comin' back. That's all I can really say about it," He summarised, apparently tired of talking about the whole ordeal. "So how're you?"

"I should be asking you that." You're confused about whatever conversation he's trying to cook up but your tone isn't cold.

"Yeah well I don't wanna talk about me so-"

"That makes a change." You quip, expecting him to let out a quick and silent laugh.

John gives you a quick, sharp look before staring back at his fingers. It's hard to read John when he's anything other than himself. When he's anything other than fine. Whether he's happy, sad, angry or excited, he becomes much more unpredictable. Maybe that was what draws people to him so much.

"I'm not in a joking mood, (Y/N)."

"So you're not in a joking mood but you also don't want to talk about the elephant in the room so what exactly can I do for you, John?"

"Drop the fucking attitude for starters."

You scowl. He's got some nerve talking back to you in your own home.

"You do not want to start with me today. Go and see your child for a bit and then get back to whatever the hell you've got to do, because I'm not sitting here and making conversation with you, you selfish son of a-"

"I just-" John cut you off but his voice broke as tried to argue his point. He looked like he was crying. You hadn't seen this side of John in a very long time. His head was in his hand and he was sniffling. You instantly feel bad and move to sit next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Yes, he's been a crappy person and father in the past but was still the man that you loved and a man that was trying to right his wrongs. You told yourself that to treat him with hostility would be to push him out of Jacob's life. John takes your hand and holds it in both of his, cold fingers now tracing your palm. "This is meant to be my escape from it. You were always my life away from life and now you're not. I didn't feel famous when I was with you. I'm not gonna be a Beatle anymore and I just needed to talk to you."