Free As A Bird Chp. 2

After a few minutes, he pulled back and looked towards the door. "Think we should let them back in?"
I sort of laughed, but a sharp pain wracked my throat. It was only them that I realized my throat was actually really sore. "Probably."
But they walked back in anyways.
George surprised me. He didn't say a word, just ran forward and hugged me tighter then Paul had. I blinked, startled. Hesitantly, I hugged him back. "I'm fine, Geo."
"Not a few minutes ago, you weren't." he mumbled.
Ringo took one of my hands, saying nothing. I raised my eyebrows at the small tears trailing down his cheeks.
"Seriously, guys," I tried saying. "I'm fine."
Paul rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you are now. Let us worry about you once in a while."
George chuckled despite himself, and Ringo cracked a small smile. Awkwardly, George pulled back, looking down. "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize." I assured him. Suddenly a sharp pain wracked up my back. "Argh!" My torso arched backwards, as though to crush whatever had just stabbed me.
All three of them moved forward, but the pain passed as quickly as it had come. I sagged forward. "What the hell was that?" I gasped.
"I already told you," Paul said, teary-eyed again. "You were shot."
"In the back?"
"No duh, John."
I glared at him, but only teasingly.
George looked down at his watch. "I'm really sorry guys. Olivia is waiting up for me." He looked at me, and for a second I saw the young teenager in his face again. Looking to the elder for advice.
A slight smile spread across my face. "S'okay, George. I'll see you later."
He got up and walked out, leaving the rest of us in awkward silence. Ringo finally said, "Me and Paul are staying here overnight."
I grinned. "Just tonight, or for how long?"
"Until you want us to go." Paul said. He smiled a bit at me, and I saw some reconciliation in that smile.
"Thanks, guys."

* * *
I walked outside, meeting some fans who wanted some records signed. One particular man came up to me, asking for a signature.
I scribbled my name on his record and asked, "Do you want anything else?"
He shook his head. "No thanks."
I greeted a few other fans, then hopped into the limo.
On the way there, I just felt uneasy. Maybe it was what I'd eaten. I didn't know why, but something was telling me to stop where I was.
I waved away the feeling. Stupid senses.
Once he stopped, I stepped out. Suddenly a spray of bullets patterned the cement in front of me.
For a quick second I was paralyzed. Shocked. Numb. Bullets? Someone was shooting at me? Incomprehensible.
But then I remembered I should run.
I turned, but I felt something pierce my back. At first there was no pain. But as I fell forward, I thought maybe my spine had suddenly fused together.
"Yoko!" I cried out best I could with blood pouring from my mouth. I saw her turn, and her eyes widened. "I've been shot! I've been shot!"
The world went black.


* * *

I sat up in a cold sweat.
I was panting. I thought maybe my heart was going to jump out of my chest. Memories. I remembered what happened. The pain. The regret, all in one thought.
I lowered my head in my hands. Much as I tried not to, I felt sobs building up in my throat. Pent-up shock? I don't know. But one or two slipped out as I tried to pull myself together.
Something rustled, and I turned my head to see the bed beside me move. I realized Paul was asleep there, and as I watched his eyes fluttered open. "John?" He sat up sleepily, yawning.
"Paul?"
My squeaky voice must've alerted him. He immediately hopped out of bed and sat on the edge of mine. "John? What happened?"
"I-I had a dream...." I looked into his wide eyes, so full of worry. "God, I saw what happened. I remember."
"Ooh...." He looked at me, unsure of what to do. "Are you okay?"
"Do I look okay?" I snapped, referring to the fact I was now crying.
"Ssh," he hissed. "You'll wake up Ringo."
I wiped my eyes and looked down at a paper on the desk. Of course, the letters were such a blur I had no idea what they were saying.
He sighed and leaned forward, taking my hand. "Do I need to sing you to sleep?"
I chuckled at the mention of one of our old habits. "Actually, that'd be quite nice."
He sighed again and hugged me close, as though willing me to change my mind. But he started humming.
It started out as humming. Eventually he sang a few words to himself. Finally, his smooth voice sang the song I'd written so long ago.
"If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true, and help me understand? 'Cause I've been in love before, and I found that love was more then just holding hands...."
He kept singing, and even though I didn't fall asleep, I finally stopped crying.