A/N: AHHHH THE APPOINTMENT
~John's~
I had to admit Ritchie was an amazing drummer. I wanted him in the band. But every time I looked at his smug little face I heard the voices in my head telling me to kick his ass again. But, I didn't. Paul was very content and forgave him very quickly last night. Paul asked me to spend the night, but I said no. I needed some time to myself before my appointment today. Although I knew he understood, he was still upset I wasn't going home with him.
My appointment was in a half an hour. I grabbed the phone and dialled Paul's number.
"Hello?"
"Paul? It's John."
"I've been waiting for your call. What time are we meetin' up love?" He asked, I could tell he was excited.
"I'll come get ye' now." I said and then hung up the phone. Way to be nice. I was scared, okay? I didn't want the worst possible news. I knew there was an outcome that could completely end Paul and I, and I didn't want that. I didn't blame Paul for pushing me toward an appointment though, I knew he was right.
I walked to his house and fought with myself in my head.
It's not gonna go well. Bail out. Don't go.
Go, this is your only chance at a normal life with Paul.
This going to end you and Paul.
Shut the hell up, we're here.
I knocked on Paul's door nervously. The door opened and revealed his beautiful, flawless face. You shouldn't bring him. I began to walk away from his house, he was close behind me. "John!" He tried to catch up. Don't be unfair. I stopped and turned to him. "I'm sorry m'love. It's not you. I'm just..." I began, not wanting to admit to him that I was scared. "I know John. I'm here." He smiled at me as he casually touched the small of my back as we approached the doctor's office.
"Are you ready?" Paul asked as he opened the door for me. I nodded. "I wish I could kiss you." I mumbled as I walked by him, through the door. I approached the nurses' desk as Paul took a seat in the waiting area. "Name?" She said. "John Winston Lennon." I mumbled back. "Take a seat, the doctor will be ready any moment now." She smiled and gestured toward the waiting area, where my lovely boy was waiting for me. Just call him your bloody boyfriend ya fag. I sat down next to Paul. "Do you think they're going to let you come in with me?" I asked, nervously. Paul looked around the room, scanning it before taking my hand. "I hope so." He answered, quietly.
"John Lennon?" The doctor said, coming out from around the corner. My stomach flipped. I stood up. "My friend.. Can he come in?" I asked, my voice obviously shaking. The doctor nodded. "Follow me." I smiled at Paul, who took my hand secretively behind the doctor and followed him with me.
I sat down on the evaluation table, Paul on the extra chair and the doctor on his fancy swirly chair. "So, John. What seems to be going on with you?" The doctor asked, grabbing a clipboard and pen. Don't fuckin tell him. Yer gonna get thrown away in a loony bin and never see Paul again. "Well sir, I-uhm, I have trouble, y'know because I hear voices - uhm, in me head." I said, staring at my hands. "What do the voices say John?" He asked. I looked up at him. He wasn't judging me, he was sincerely asking. No he's getting ready to call the loony bin. "Well, ugh-they tell me what to do a lot of the time, or y'know call me names and what not until I believe them. Sometimes they're so bad I can't focus on reality, y'know it's like I'm disconnected from real life. I dunno." I shrugged, realizing I had began to ramble. I looked over at Paul, who had a slight smile on his face. I assumed he was proud of me. He's not proud of you.
"How often are the voices there?"
"Every day. A lot. Most of the time."
"Okay, John. Don't feel like this is going to ruin your life. You're not the only one in the world who suffers from this. But we will treat it, and get rid of those voices. How does that sound?" The doctor asked me. I smiled. "It sounds bloody great." I answered, feeling a little calmer. He's lying! "Great. What you've got is called early psychosis. It's very serious, John. But I think we've caught your's early enough to treat it. I'll write you a prescription for some medication to help calm you down and stop the voices. It won't help completely, though. I want you to attend some individual cognitive behaviour therapy." The doctor said as he wrote out my prescription. I began to panic.
Medication.
Therapy.
Psychosis.
You're a fucking LUNATIC. The voices kept repeating.
"I c-can't, I don't, I mean," I tried to form words but I kept hearing the same thing over and over.
"Shall I give you a minute?"
"Yes please sir." I heard his voice. The door shut. Paul.
I felt his hands on my cheeks.
"John, are you there?"
I felt him but my eyes couldn't him. I was looking up, down, side to side.
"John."
I felt shots of electricity on throughout my body. He was kissing me. He brought me back to Earth. "Paul." I managed to say. "Ah, there you are." He smiled. "Why're you upset? We've got a solution, love." Paul told me. "I don't want to go to therapy. I'm suppose to be strong. I don't want medication. I'm suppose to be strong." I repeated myself, hoping he would understand.
"This is going to help you, John. I promise."
He doesn't know what he's talking about. He wants to you to be locked away.
"Paul I think I want to do this alone. You should go." I blurted out, shoving his hands off of me. His eyes looked hurt, and he hung his head. "I'll, ugh.. See ya 'round then John."
Watch him leave. He would stay if he cared.
~Paul's~
I wasn't going to leave. I know John had asked me too, but I didn't think it was a good idea. I stood outside the doctors office and lit up a cigarette.
I wanted to know what got him so upset. He got an answer, he got a solution. I wanted to be there for him. But I had to remember this was HIS illness, not mine.
I waited patiently for him to come out the door, hoping his mood changed back to being happy and needing me. I was also worried he would be upset I hadn't listened and just gone home. The door opened and I spun around.
"Paul," John began. "Are you okay?" I asked, hesitantly. "I'm sorry I was a dick." He said as we began walking down the street. "It's alright Johnny, do you wanna tell me what happened after I left?" I asked, trying not to sound too pushy. "No Paul, not particularly. I'm going home, I'll see you... whenever I see you." John spat as he began to quicken his pace and I began to fall behind.
"What the bloody hell!" I ran up behind him. I watched John roll his eyes. "John?" I said, trying to sound pathetic enough that he would feel bad. I watched his eyes soften. "Go home, McCartney." He mumbled, clenching his jaw. "I don't want to leav-" I tried to say before he cut me off. "Paul, what aren't ye grasping? I'm telling you to go the fuck home. Leave me alone." He almost yelled, clearly not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the street.
My heart began to ache. "Fine." I said quietly, holding back my anger and frustration. I stormed off ahead of him toward my house. I wanted to make sure he made it home safe, but I didn't think I could do so without him knowing. I wasn't about to be a stalker boyfriend.
I stormed up to my room, not saying hello to Michael or Auntie Gin. I slammed my door shut and fell into my bed, my face in my pillow. I held back my tears, John didn't deserve my pain. There was a knock at my door.
"What?!" I answered, rudely. A small Mike peered through the door. "Paulie?" He said. "Come in," I sighed and sat up on my bed. He came in and sat down next to me.
"What's wrong?" He asked as he leaned his head on my shoulder. I smiled at him. "Nothing is wrong, Mikey." I lied. "You can tell me Paul!" He said as he looked up at me.
"John and I had a bit of a row, s'all. No big deal." I lied again. Oh, how I wanted to scream and punch the wall. John just shoving me off like that, talking to me so rudely even when I was trying to help.
"Is everything going to be okay?" Mike asked. "I hope so, Mike. I really hope so." I said quietly, looking down at the ring on my left hand. Seeing it made my heart skip a beat, and a lump threatened to form in my throat. "Do you love John?" Mike asked me. My eyes widened a little.
"Of course I do, Mike. He's me best mate." That wasn't necessarily a lie.
"No, George is your best mate. John is your boyfriend, I thought," Mike began. "What?!" I said, shocked.
"Isn't he? Or does John have another boyfriend or girlfriend?" Mike asked. He was so young and naive, he had no idea how wrong it was for two men to have that kind of relationship, how illegal it was.
"Yeah Mike.. he is." I mumbled, waiting for another reaction. "Well I like him. He's funny." Mike smiled.
"Do you wanna talk about y'row?" Mike asked as he straightened his back. I shook my head.
"Well, I bet he's gonna call you tonight and apologize." Mike said, as he smiled and left me alone with my thoughts.
For all that it was worth, I hoped Mike was right.
I did want to talk to someone about it, though. Mostly John, but obviously that was out of the question. I thought about calling George, y'know, to get his input or even just have someone listen, but the more I thought about it the more I felt as though I was disrespecting John's privacy. George didn't need to know about John's voices.
Instead I strummed my guitar and scribbled lyrics down, hoping for some sort of satisfaction. Unfortunately, I knew I wasn't going to have any kind of satisfaction without John.
I hoped that he was just having a bad moment and that everything was going to be okay. He would apologize and we could forget all about it. But I also had a scary thought, that John was mad that I pushed him into the appointment and he was actually finished with our relationship. I didn't want the validation that it was true, so I didn't call him. I would wait until he came crawling back to me.
But I didn't want to wait, you see.
I wanted to hear his voice, to touch his hand, to kiss his lips and to hear him tell me everything was going to be okay. Bloody hell, I couldn't sit like that all night. I got up and dialled his number.
"Hello?"
"John, baby, it's Paul. Can we talk?" I asked, my stomach now filled with butterflies.
Dial tone. John hung up on me.