Martha My Dear, Where Have You Gone?

Part 5

Sam mirrored Robert's actions and, before anyone could blink, the two had gotten Martha out and were carrying her inside. Paul, of course, was frantic as he watched two strangers take his dog away.

"No!! I've got to go with her!!" he wailed.

"We will, Paul, but your leg is broken. You can't exactly keep up with them. Besides, she's in good hands. Sam and Robert are here to help us," John soothed. "But, we do need to get you inside as well because you need some help too."

Paul simply moaned in response, almost alluding to the fact that he had just spent up all of his energy. John sighed.

"Alright then, lad. Let's get you in there," the older Beatle said as he opened the car door and picked the lighter-than-normal Paul McCartney up using bridal style, of course being careful not to jostle his leg too much. Paul, surprisingly, didn't do anything. He didn't complain about John's softness nor did he whine about the cold. He didn't do anything, which worried John, but, he decided to blame it on the shock. After all, the lad had gone through quite a lot.

Seconds later, the two Beatles made it into the warm clinic. Once inside, John was greeted with the dirty smell of dog and every sight you'd expect to see in a veterinary clinic: a few chairs to wait in, a front desk, which had bookshelves filled with paperwork towering behind it, and, lastly, various dog and cat food selections. The concrete floor was intensely mottled with scratches and John figured they hadn't been cleaned in centuries. But, he ignored the smell and the dirtiness and took a seat, Paul now sitting in his lap, as he watched Sam and Robert talk to an older woman nurse, the two men seeming sincerely worried. John gulped before turning his attention to Paul instead.

"How ya doin,' mate?" he asked his hurt and anxious friend.

"I-I'm f-fine," he shivered. "I'm j-just worried about M-Martha."

"I know you are, but she's gonna be just fine. It's you I'm worried about," John sighed as he placed a hand to Paul's burning forehead once more.

"Y-you shouldn't be. I-I'm fine."

"Right," the older man smirked as he stared at Paul with an incredulous expression.

Before Paul had a chance to respond, Sam and Robert approached them, seeming as if they had something to say.

"How is everything?" John inquired nervously.

"Your dog is in surgery now. They're doing everything they can," Robert replied, his thin lips curling into a forced smile.

"Thank you two so much," the older Beatle answered with much gratitude evident in his voice.

"You're very welcome," Sam said.

"Oh, yeah, and we told the nurse," Robert began as he gestured to the short and somewhat plump elderly nurse standing behind them at the front desk, "that your friend needed help too, so she agreed to doctor him up while you were waiting for the dog."

"That's great!" John exclaimed as he turned to Paul, who, at this point, looked half asleep, if you can believe it. "Again, thank you so much! How can we ever repay you?"

"There's no need for that. Our reward is in Heaven," Robert smiled.

"Still, I feel like I need to repay you somehow!" John begged.

"No need. Well, we best be off now. Our wives are probably worried about us anyway. You can get a taxi, can't you?" Sam said.

"Yes, we'll be fine. You just don't know how much I appreciate your kindness."

"It's our pleasure."

And, minutes later, the two left, leaving John, Paul, and the nurse alone, the latter of which now making her way over to the famous duo.