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Fixing What’s Broken

Title: Fixing What’s Broken Fandom: The Beatles Pairing: John Lennon & George Harrison; John Lennon/Paul McCartney (not yet established) Rating: Gen Word Count: 1055 Summary: John is angry and worried, George is a Good Friend. Co-starring Ringo, Paul and Eppy. A/N: The awesome @savoy-brown-shoe sent me the prompts G (a fistfight), W (waiting for something) and D (subtle kindness) for The Beatles from this prompt list and I immediately had the idea for this fic. ^^ Thank you ever so much for the ask, I had lots of fun writing this! ♥ Feedback is, no matter how short, super appreciated and helpful! ♥ Enjoy <3 (AO3)

“Ye bloody git, just let me to ‘im!” John was spitting venom, barely containing his anger at being denied entry every time he approached the white door at the end of the hallway.

“John, stop it.”

The hand on his shoulder made John clench his jaw and turn around with a murderous expression on his face. “He could be dyin’ for all we know, Eppy, don’t patronise me.”

“John.” It was Ringo. He kept his hands to himself, having seen John’s bad reaction to Eppy’s hand on his shoulder. “He’s gonna be alright.”

Brian nodded. “It’s just a broken arm. We’ll have to cancel the last show of the tour, but he’s going to be alright, just as Ringo said.”

John merely huffed as he stomped back to the seats at the other end of the hallway, from where George was silently observing John’s fifth attempt at going to see Paul. When John approached the seat next to him, he stood up and blocked John’s path, showing no worry whatsoever at angering his friend further. “Let’s go outside, John.”

John stopped in his tracks and looked at him dumbfounded for a moment. “Ye ordering me around now, too, Harrison?” There was an edge to his voice, but George had had enough of John being antsy for the day. It wouldn’t get Paul to wake up sooner and it was just driving the rest of them crazy. Besides, John’s last attempt, blocked by a clearly already overworked doctor, had almost led to a fistfight, prevented only by Ringo, Brian and George stepping in.

So John could really take his anger and stuff it elsewhere. George wasn’t taking this no longer. They were all stressed to a certain degree, what with never knowing how Paul might have reacted to the narcosis, and they all had had no sleep last night, but they didn’t let it on as much as John did.

When John just glared daggers at him, George gently grasped his arm and started to steer him toward the door. “Come along, Lennon. They’ll let us know when Paulie wakes up.” He and John both turned their heads toward Ringo and Brian, who had until then been talking softly on the other side of the hallway but now looked up and nodded in agreement, having overheard George’s words.

“C’mon, mate.”

John visibly deflated in front of them and followed George to the door, down to the elevators at the end of the adjacent hallway and down to the little café in front of the hospital. George steered them toward a free table and, after sitting down and looking up at the sunlit early morning sky for a moment, met John’s gaze dead-on.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“How-“ “I know you think it is, I know ye well enough to be able to tell.”

“I-“ John breathed out heavily. “I was joking around, makin’ a fool of meself as usual, and... when I winked at Paulie to join in on the joke, he tripped. ...It was me bloody fault alright, George.”

“Hey. John. Look at me.” George exhaled exasperatedly when his bandmate found the table’s surface between them more interesting than him. “Ye didn’t cause ‘im to trip. It was the bloody cables on the stage being places they shouldn’t have been, ye idiot.” George mentally patted his own shoulder when John finally looked up and met his gaze again. “If ye really think ye winkin’ at Paulie would cause ‘im to trip already, well. You really overestimate yerself.”

John swatted at George’s arm as his friend snorted in amusement, missing him as George had seen that reaction coming from a mile away. “Wait here, will ye?” George was still smiling when he stood up and disappeared for a minute, returning to their table with two steaming cups of tea. He set one cup down in front of John and the other in front of himself, immediately putting a sugar cube into his cup and starting to stir it with his tea spoon. “They didn’t have yer favourite, but-“

“Thank you, George.” The sudden statement startled George somewhat and he halted his stirring motion for only a second before a smile made its way onto his face once more. “Sure thing, mate.”

“Ye know I wouldn’t forgive meself if I ever caused ‘im any harm.” What was intended as a rhetorical question came across more as a statement of a matter of fact. George’s eyes met John’s for a silent second. “I know.” The additional I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever caused any of you any harm was unsaid, but George heard it either way.

They drank their tea mostly in silence until Brian came outside to tell them that Paul had woken up and was conscious enough for them to be able to talk to him.

Several hours later – after a short group visit from all four of them and Brian bringing out the manager for a minute and telling Paul they’d have to cancel the last date of the tour – George and Ringo were back at the hospital again after a trip back to the hotel with Eppy. They had been told that only one person at a time was allowed to stay with Paul as he was still feeling groggy and somewhat dizzy from the painkillers he had been given and John had immediately claimed the right to be the first to stay with him.

George carefully opened the door to Paul’s room, not wanting to make much noise in case their friend was sleeping, and found that they might have trouble taking John back to the hotel with them after all. The man, while upset and angry before talking with George earlier that morning, was now sleeping peacefully, sitting in a chair next to Paul’s bed and his arms and head resting on Paul’s bedsheets. Paul himself was sleeping, too, his left hand resting atop of John’s head and his fingers buried under the strands of hair he must have been carding them through. Both of them wore soft smiles on their faces, so George only covered John with the comforter lying at the end of Paul’s bed with Ringo’s help, before they turned around and quietly left the room.

They hadn’t been earlier today, but they were going to be alright.

March 11, 2019 - Day 265

I started organizing my books last week and I think I’ve made most of my final decisions on them now, but I’ll probably switch a few things around still.

#365 #11.3.2019 #Day 265 #books #wine #organizing