Chapter Text
The boys and Brian, along with Mal and Neil, had ran to Mendips as soon as they got off of the phone.
They were worried, very worried.
Mimi was awfully pale and quiet as she opened the door, letting them inside.
"He's...he's coping" she said quietly, letting them walk upstairs behind her.
Fear gripped them all as they stood in front of John's bedroom door.
George was twisting his hands, letting out little worried sighs.
Ringo couldn't stop drumming with his fingers against the side of his leg.
Mal, Neil and Brian were all sharing worried glances, gulping and sighing.
Paul was biting his lip, until blood was coming out as he blinked back tears.
With a heavy sigh, Mimi opened the door.
The room was warm and a heavy darkness surrounded everything.
They walked close to the bed, holding their breaths.
John was in bed, looking extremely pale.
His forehead was shining with sweat and his hair was matted to his forehead.
He looked in pain.
His face was gaunt, yet slightly chubby, his cheeks stood out in the general paleness with their rubicond colour.
His lashes were brushing his cheeks with every little flutter and, sometimes, his breath would catch in his throat.
Mimi had walked next to the bed like a guardian angel, gently leaning down to brush her lips onto his extremely warm and sweaty forehead.
At that butterfly kiss, his eyes fluttered open a little, feverish and unfocused.
"A-auntie Mimi...hurts...e-everything hurt…" John's speech was incredibly weak and it was clear that he was struggling to speak and even to stay awake.
"I know, love. But here there is someone who wants to see you" she sweetly said, caressing his soft face.
John tried to nod a little, even tried to sit up.
The woman looked back at the others, nodding a little.
The first one who stepped to the bed was Mal.
He smiled a little, grabbing the boy's hand.
"Hey, Johnny. I want to let you know that our friendship is something I really value, y'know?" he leaned down a little, pressing a little kiss on his forehead.
John smiled a little, softly and it seemed like he was recognising Mal as the roadie he was, but that flicker of recognition lasted for a short whim, before his gaze became dull again.
One by one, the boys gathered around him, praying and kissing his forehead tenderly.
Brian was barely holding back the tears, while the other Beatles were actually crying.
John was still only half conscious, breathing slowly.
Mimi was caressing his soft hair, slowly crooning what sounded like a lullaby, making his eyes grew heavier and heavier.
"Hey bud" whispered Paul, eyes sore and red as he kneeled down next to the bed.
He grasped one of John's limp pale hands and leaned down, pressing his forehead onto their intertwined fingers.
"I'm going to miss you so much, Johnny. I know you don't remember, but you're my best friend and I love you so much" he choked out.
"I...I love you too" he said, and Paul could find truth in those words, like John had actually remembered him.
They all walked out, sobbing and holding onto each other, Brian actually had to almost carry Paul.
Mimi was quietly and silently sobbing as she sat down on the bed.
She grabbed John and pulled him over her lap.
John groaned and whined and Mimi's hand flew to the back of his head.
She noticed, with some sort of wicked humor, that she was holding him like she was holding a newborn, rather than a grown-up man.
His body, though, was actually resembling one of a baby.
He had gotten incredibly thin, his ribs poking out from under his skin like reliefs.
His head was very delicate, a single thud could have provocated even more damage to his already swollen and hurt brain.
He furrowed his brows as something wet fell on his face, and he opened his eyes.
Mimi was crying.
"Auntie...don't cry, please" he whispered, mustering the strength to lift an arm.
He caressed her face with his fingertips, making her smile a little and kiss the outstretched hand.
John's body was going limp and his face was becoming a wax mask, but he was still breathing. He was still somewhat conscious.
Mimi's head snapped up at the sound of the door opening.
Peaking in, Paul's tear stained face came into view.
He was sobbing, eyes big and wet; his bottom lip was gnawed and bloody and a small trickle of blood, so warm and crimson, had stained the side of his mouth.
He looked at the limp figure with the head on Mimi's lap, then his bloodshot eyes posed on the woman's face.
Mimi understood the question and quietly shook her head, body slightly rocking with sobs.
"Can I…?" it was said in such a small whimper that made Paul look like a scared child.
A child who just had a nightmare and was debating whether going into his parents room in the middle of the night or not.
Mimi nodded and Paul made his way back into the room.
"Gimme your hand" said suddenly the woman, making Paul jump at the request.
"W-what?"
"Just give me your hand, McCartney"
He gulped, letting her take his hand into her smaller one.
He looked at her gentle movement, before his eyes posed down onto John's face.
He wasn't even sure if John was even aware of his surroundings at that point.
Mimi posed Paul's hand on John's face with a small smile, "See, Johnny? Paul is here! Can you feel his hand?"
John didn't speak, didn't even open his eyes.
He leaned into the touch, however.
Even that small, almost imperceptible thing made Paul's heart speed up.
After all that suffering, John was finally free.
"He's not suffering, right?" he asked, glancing at the old nurse.
Mimi shook her head, shrugging a little her shoulders, "He's too far to feel anything" she reassured.
At least Paul knew that his best mate, his brother!, was now feeling at least better.
After months and months of pain and undiagnosed illnesses, he was finally free.
In his mind, Paul started counting all the recent memories:
The day before the car accident.
The car accident.
All the confusion about the brain damage John had went through.
The heart attack and seizure attacks.
The marrow transplant.
His brain basically destroying itself.
And throughout all of that, John had always managed to smile and be innocent, stuck in the mentality the car crush had given him.
He definitely deserved some peace.
"You've done some great things in this world you'll surely be remembered for" he whispered, leaning down to bury his head into his auburn soft hair.
Tears were coming down his cheeks like rivers, yet his voice was still quite steady and calm.
"You've been loved so much by so many people. Me and Mimi are here with you and we both love you so much" he glanced up at Mimi, who was watching down at her nephew with pain filled eyes, but a small smile on her lips.
"You were a little piece of shit, but you were my little piece of shit"
John's eyes had fluttered closed now and his breathing was coming in soft puffs of air.
"The whole world loves you, John Winston Lennon. I love you. Our friends love you. Your family loves you. You always been loved by everyone you were close with"
A hand on his shoulder made him snapp up and look at the woman in front of him.
Mimi was biting her lips, tears running down her pale cheeks.
Paul glanced down.
John's chest had stopped moving.
He began to weep loudly, both of them cradling the frail body of the boy in their arms.
On the 8th of December 1965, John Winston Lennon's life was taken away from him by a bad bad disease.