After Barney made John leave Paul's room so that Paul could be taken care of, someone else led John to another room entirely. It resembled Paul's room for the most part, aside from the cot in the corner. He sat down on the bed, feeling rather defeated in every respect. He tried laying down after a while, but he got restless so he paced. But then he got tired, so he laid down and slept. When he was hungry, he went to the dining hall. When he was restless, he would pace in his room or wander aimlessly. Sometimes he'd hunt Barney down and demanded to see Paul, but every time Barney would calmly explain to him that Paul was not in a fit state to be seeing anyone at the moment. Every time, Barney would say to him:

"When Paul is well enough to see visitors, I promise you will be the first to know."

So John paced, and slept, and ate. Paced, and slept, and ate. Pace, slept, ate. On and on.

George came to visit him eventually, and the moment John saw who was entering his room he bolted across the room and threw his arms around George. George stumbled back, but once he found his footing and chuckled. He hugged John back.

"Happy to see me?" George asked laughingly.

"You've no idea," John said, almost breathless. "Have you seen Paul?"

"No, I haven't."

"Have you seen Stu?"

"No."

"Ringo?"

"Still sedated."

"Jesus Christ," John groaned, and he dropped down to sit on the edge of his bed.

"John, it's going to be okay," George said. "Everything is going to work out. I promise. You'll see."

"I'm not so sure," John said. He looked down at his feet, shaking his head. "Paul is off in, like, solitary confinement, and I don't even know what's wrong with him. I can't see him. I haven't gotten to talk to him since all of this madness went down. And Stuart, too, like you said; he's emotionally compromised, so I can't see him. I can't see Ringo, because he's asleep. I can't be sure if he's okay. I've been looking for Yoko everywhere, and she is nowhere to be found." He sighed, lifting his gaze off of the floor to look at George. "You're the only person here who I can trust to be honest with me."

George mustered a smile. John mistook the look of immense guilt that passed across George's face for overwhelming sadness.

"Is there anything I can get you?" George said so that he wouldn't have to muster up a response to that.

"Get some dinner with me?" John said.

"Your wish is my command," George said, gesturing to the door. "Let's go."

Eat, sleep, pace, repeat. Thus passed a week and a half, John growing more miserable by the day.

On the eleventh night, John was laying in bed with the lights off, not quite ready to be asleep, but bored of circling his bedroom again and again.

The door flew in, and the light pouring in illuminated the man in the doorway just enough that John could tell who it was.

"John!" Barney exclaimed.

"What are you doing here?" John sighed.

Barney scoffed. "I told you that as soon as I knew that Paul was ready for visitors I would come straight for you. Come on!"

"He's — he's —" John scrambled to his feet, searching through the darkness for his shoes. "Are you serious? I can see him? Really?"

"Yes, but you must remain calm," Barney said. "He's... fragile."

John nodded. "Okay. Yes. Calm. Promise."

Barney raised his eyebrows. "You'd better catch your breath before we walk out this door."

John nodded, and he took several seconds to breathe deeply.

"Good?" Barney said.

John nodded. "Better than ever."

"All right," Barney said, and he smiled. "Follow me, then."

John followed closely at Barney's heels as he was led through the hallways of the building. They came out a side door; the side of the building faced a decently sized meadow that was cut off where the woods began. The weather was cool, but comfortably so, and tiniest purple buds were scattered across the grass, each holding the promise of a blossom.

Near the center of it all, with his knees tucked into his chest and his head tipped toward the sky, was Paul.

One of the agents who John didn't know (which was so many of them) stood by the door, keeping an eye on him.

"I can go to him?" John asked Barney, just to be sure.

"Yes," Barney assured him. "Just keep calm. Walk there, don't run. Don't raise your voice, and let him guide the conversation where he wants to go. Yes?"

"Yes," John agreed.

"Good," Barney said. "We'll be here if you need anything."

John nodded. He turned his back on Barney and the other agent. He started toward Paul at a steady pace. His pulse quickened as he drew near, but he determinedly kept his breath even. He noticed that even as he grew quite close to Paul's spot in the meadow, and he was reasonably certain that Paul could hear his approaching footsteps, Paul did not show any sign of knowing that he was there.

John sat down facing Paul, but not too close. He opened his mouth to speak, to softly inform Paul that he was there, but before he got the chance, Paul said, "Hello, John." He slowly lowered his head, and opened his eyes.

"Hi, Paul," John said softly. "I've missed you."

Paul blinked. "I've missed you, too."

John smiled.

"Your brace is gone," Paul commented.

"It is, yeah," John said. "It's healing remarkably well, the arm."

"Good," Paul said. "So," he went on.

"So," John echoed.

"I've been told that you know about everything," Paul said. "Well, most things anyway. All the secrets."

John huffed out a laugh. "You're not gonna beat around the bush, huh?"

Paul smiled for a moment, but that smile quickly vanished as he began to speak again. "I remember George promising to keep it all from you when I woke up for a time," he said. "But perhaps I was just imagining things."

"No, he said that," John said. "I was there."

Paul frowned.

"I already knew by that time," John explained. "He just didn't want to worry you in the moment. Wanted to be sure you could rest easy, and get better."

Paul nodded. "It's understandable."

John nodded, too. "Paul," he started, "you know we don't have to do this right now. It's a conversation that needs to be had, sure, but we can have it when you're feeling better."

Paul shook his head. "I need to get this conversation over and done with," he said. "I need to do this now, or I swear I'll never do it. I am so scared, John. This is a conversation that I have dreaded for twenty years, and it is one that I was pretty sure I never had to have."

"Hey, you don't need to be scared," John said. "It's just me, yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Paul sighed. "It's you."

"What do you mean?" John asked, frowning.

"I just mean," Paul sighed again. "You must look at me differently now. And after we talk about this, after you have more clarity about it all, you'll look at me so much differently than before."

"Yeah, probably a little bit," John said, and Paul's face crumbled. "But that doesn't mean I don't love you still. Of course I love you still."

Paul blinked. "Yeah?"

"There's nothing in the world that you could stop that," John said, and he was relieved to see that brought a small smile to Paul's face. "So what would really put your mind at ease? To talk about it now, or to wait?"

Paul sighed. "Let's just — can we just talk about it now? Get it out of the way?"

"Sure thing," John agreed. "Where do you want to start?"

"Oh, God," Paul sighed. "Jesus, I don't really know. How much do you know?"

"I know quite a lot," John said. "It's overwhelming, really."

"Okay, well, what don't you know?" Paul asked.

"Well, you see, if I knew what I didn't know then I would know it," John said.

Paul rolled his eyes, laughing. "I mean," he said, "like, how much do you know about your life, like, in the other timeline? If that makes any sense."

"I think so, yeah," John said. "I, um, I don't know much about that. I do know that... that I was supposed to die the other day. And you saved my life."

Paul swallowed hard. "I was — I was rather hoping they wouldn't tell you about that. I thought Barney would have more sense than that."

"Okay, so you do know this Barney guy?" John said.

"Yes," Paul said, brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," John said. He shrugged. "He told me that he regards you as one of his closest and dearest friends, and I was sort of rude to him. I don't really trust the guy."

Paul laughed. "Of course you don't," he sighed.

"Do you trust him?" John asked. "He said you trust him."

"I do," Paul said, nodding. "I trust him very much."

"He said you trust him with your life," John said. "I thought that was a tad presumptuous of him."

Paul chuckled. "I do trust him with my life. I have."

"Oh, all right," John huffed, but he was grinning. "Very well, I suppose I'll have to stop hating the guy."

"I suppose so," Paul agreed. "I get where you're coming from. I didn't always trust him. In the beginning, I was afraid of him. I think you'll warm up to him, though. He's a good guy."

"Yeah, I guess," John said. "He's got cute kids."

"Oh, you met the kids?" Paul said, beaming. "I've never met Daniel, but Kylie's just lovely."

"Oh! — but it wasn't Barney who told me about the... about how I was supposed to die," John said. "That was George. Barney wasn't even there at the time, so I'm not sure that he even knows that I know."

"What?" Paul said. "But — but George — I can't believe him."

"I'm sure he was only doing what he thought was best," John said. "Besides, we were sort of having a row when he said it, so I don't think he even planned on telling me."

"But he did," Paul sighed.

"What's done is done," John said. "Does it really matter? You saved me."

Paul shook his head. "You were never supposed to find out."

"Neither was George," John said.

"Yeah, fair enough," Paul said. "Let's see, what else is there?"

"So if you knew everything that was going to happen," John began, "why did you run away from me in Paris when I told you I loved you?"

"Ah," Paul said. "That. It's a million dollar question, for sure."

John waited impatiently while trying to appear patient.

"That was because I didn't see it coming," Paul said. "And I was still working out what my feelings toward you were. And that is because in the other timeline that I lived in for, well, a while, we were not together. Not ever, John."

"What?" John asked, astonished. That he got shot, he could believe, but he and Paul having never been together? He couldn't imagine such a miserable existence. Paul was the love of his life. "Were... were either of us ever... married?"

Paul nodded. "Yes."

"I —" John shook his head. "Who was I married to, dare I ask?"

Paul laughed. "Ah, yes. You married Cynthia."

"Cynthia?!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

"But," John stopped, shook his head. "But Cynthia and I broke up before we left for Hamburg!"

"Not in the other timeline, you didn't," Paul chuckled. "You married her. And you were married to her for several years."

"We got divorced?" John asked.

"Oh, yes," Paul said. "You divorced her because you found someone who you loved much more than you ever loved her."

"Was it you?" John asked.

"No," Paul said. "I've already told you, we were never together."

"But I might have wallowed in a tragic unrequited love," John said, grinning and tossing his head back dramatically, which made Paul laugh.

"I don't know what feelings you harbored for me," Paul said. "I know now that they were their for me — those feelings, I mean — but I really don't know. We never talked about anything of the sort."

"Okay, who was it, then?" John asked. "Anyone we know?"

Paul smirked. "Oh, yes. You were married to Yoko."

John laughed. "Yeah, right, okay. No, seriously, who was it?"

"John, I'm dead serious," Paul laughed.

"No." John shook his head. "No, no. I refuse to believe it."

"Refuse all you want, but it's true," Paul said.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Dear, God."

Paul laughed heartily. "And to think, I was so nervous when she walked into our lives."

"What for?" John furrowed his brow.

"I was worried you would leave me for her," Paul said. He shrugged. "It doesn't bother me anymore. It's been fifteen years."

"But I never would, Paul," John said.

"I just thought," Paul said, "at the time, that maybe — because you left someone for her once before — but that doesn't worry me anymore. I know that won't happen."

"Good," John said. "Because I never would, not for anyone. You're it."

Paul smiled, and he moved to sit close enough that he could reach out his arm out and hold John's hand. "Well," Paul sighed, sounding happier now, "what else is there?"

"A lot, I imagine," John laughed. "Okay, wait, I have a question."

"Shoot," Paul said.

"When did you replace the, uh, other you?" John said. "I don't know if that made any sense."

"I understand," Paul said, nodding. He pulled his hand away and hugged his knees to his chest. "That would be May twenty fourth of 1961."

"1961?" John said. "Wow. Before we even had the flat together."

"Long time," Paul said.

"Very long time," John agreed.

"Is that — does that bother you?" Paul asked.

"No," John said. He shook his head, shrugged his shoulders. "I was just curious."

"Ah," Paul said, looking down at his knees, smiling.

"When did George find out?" John asked.

"Summer of '69," said Paul.

"Ah," John said, nodding. He considered something for a moment, then decided against, but then he changed his mind and decided to go for it. "All the times when I said I was tired of making music, tired of touring, wanted to take a break, you'd always get really upset about it. But it was sort of in this super sad and desperate way, you never get angry, you just... you got really sad, Paul. I could never place my finger on why. But now I can't help but wonder..."

Paul drew a trembling breath and nodded his head. "Yeah, um... The Beatles... we broke up around 1969 to 1970 in the other timeline."

"I'm sorry, Paul," John said.

"You don't have to be sorry," Paul said. "It's in the past. It's a whole universe away." He looked down at the grass. "I can't for the life of me think of anything else to say. There's so much more to talk about, and I can't think of single one of them."

"We don't have to talk about all of them today," John said.

"We should, though," Paul sighed.

"Says who?" John said.

"John," Paul sighed. "There's... there's a lot of things that are going to happen, and they're going to happen soon. There's a lot that you need to understand about all of this."

"Are you talking about the F.H.O.?" John said. "And the Shadows?"

"Yeah," Paul said. "But it's — it's also more than that." He breathed in deeply then said, "This is war, John."

"A... a war?" John said. "How do you mean?"

"The F.H.O. and the Shadows," Paul said. "They've been fighting against one another for a long time, now. And then when Barney, Yoko, and I realized that the F.H.O. was... is... well, they're fucking with space and time to put it simply. And they don't even know about the Unknowables yet, or maybe they do. It's a mess. But we need to take the F.H.O. down — if we do that, then the Shadows shouldn't be an issue anymore. But to do that... we need to take out the President of the F.H.O."

"God, Paul, how long have you had this on your mind?" John asked.

"Barney told me earlier today," Paul said. "He did it very gently, not to worry. But I think... I think I've always kind of know, you know?"

John frowned. "Known what?"

"That this is all going to have to end in some sort of," Paul sighed, "I don't know. Assasination attempt? Battle?"

"But you won't be there," John said.

Paul sighed. "John."

"You won't be there," John said. "Right?"

"John," Paul said. He took John's hand again.

"Paul, you can't go!" John exclaimed. "It's too dangerous, and that's not your job!"

"Just listen to me, okay?" Paul said. "Just let me... talk... for a second." He waited for John to agree and, reluctantly, John nodded. Paul squeezed his hand and said, "I got here almost twenty years ago and I had one job. Save your life. That was it. They didn't ask anything else of me. The F.H.O. has never asked much else of me. But then the Unknowables came into the picture, and we found out how corrupt the F.H.O. was. I mean, I expected there was something funky about them because they were just... they were kind of like super villains out of a cartoon, to be honest. But then we found out the truth. I became part of meetings that had to do with infiltrating the F.H.O., and taking them down. Yoko and I got in a fight right before she moved to New York because I was getting suspicious of, well, everything. Things weren't adding up and I was trying to figure it out, get to the bottom of it. Well, Yoko got to saying that I was losing focus, she said that you weren't my number one priority." He stopped and started blinking back tears.

"Hey, it's okay, Paul," John said.

"Yeah," Paul said, nodding. "You were always my number one priority. That never wavered, it never changed. I worked with the F.H.O., I made deals with the Unknowables, and I've even spoken with the Shadows a few times. But always, no matter what, when I struck a deal my requirement was always that you lived. You were the most important part of all of this for me. But... well, I've been here quite a while. I've sort of been leading a double life, when you think about it. I've led a life with you, but I've also led this life as a — like a —"

"A secret agent," John said, smirking.

"Well, it sounds trivial when you say it," Paul laughed.

"No, no," John said. "I like it. It's attractive. Suits you."

Paul smiled, face tinted red. "Anyway, I've been fighting this battle with the F.H.O. and the Shadows since the moment I woke up in 1961, even before I knew it. And I love you, and you're my first priority, but you're safe now, John."

"So," John said, frowning, "what are you saying?"

Paul frowned. "I'm saying that I have to see this thing to the bitter end. Even if that means I don't make it out alive."

John shook his head. "No... no..."

"John," Paul said, putting his free hand on top of John's. "I have to do this. You can't stop me."

John huffed. "I'll come with you, then."

"What, you want to waste the twenty years I just spent saving your life?" Paul snorted.

"That's — no, but —"

"We'll talk about this later," Paul said. "They plan to assassinate Wilson within the month, but there is no set plan of action. Please can we talk about this when we have more information?"

John sighed. "Yeah. I don't like it. But yeah."

"Thank you," Paul said. "And... I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" John asked.

"Lying to you," Paul said.

"I mean, you kept a big part of your life from me but —"

"No, not that," Paul said. "I mean, sorry I had to keep it from you, but I did it to save your life. I did it to protect you. I'm sorry about our fight. I'm sorry I lied."

"You... you lied?" John asked. "When we fought at home? Before I left for New York?"

Paul nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry," he said. "The song, um... it was — is — about someone in particular."

"Wha—"

"Hold on, just let me explain," Paul said. "I shouldn't have even written it down. That was stupid. But like I said, we weren't a couple the last time around. In the other timeline, I mean. You were married. So was I."

John relaxed. "Oh. I see."

"I had a wife," Paul said. "I loved her very much. As much as I love you. And she died. That was her song."

"She died... in the other timeline?" John said.

Paul sighed. "Yeah. Uh, but also in this one."

"What?" John frowned.

"Um," Paul said. "Do you — do you remember when we were living together, and we went to my dad's for dinner one night, and he was talking about the newspaper? About that woman who died crashing her car into a tree?"

"Oh, yeah," John said. "You got really sick that night and we had to go home early."

"Yeah," Paul said. Then, softly, "That was her."

"That was... your wife?" John asked, and Paul nodded. "In the other timeline did she — car crash —"

"No, she had cancer," Paul sighed.

"What was her name?" John said.

Paul sucked in a sharp breath. "Linda."

John smiled.

Paul closed his eyes. "Lovely Linda."

"So what changed?" John asked. "What — why did she get into a car crash that never happened in the other timeline? I don't understand."

"The F.H.O.," Paul said. "They killed her."

"What?!" John said.

"John," Paul said, voice thick, "can we not talk about this anymore? Please? I buried it such a long time ago."

"Yes, of course," John said.

"I'm sorry I brought her up," Paul said.

"I'm sorry I kept pushing," John said.

Paul smiled.

"So," John said. "Yoko's from the future, too?"

"Yes," Paul said, glad for the change of subject.

"So... she knows we were married," John said.

"Yes," Paul said.

John grimaced. "Yoko knows what I look like naked."

Paul threw his had back in laughter and it took a minute for him to recover. "Yes, she does," he said, still giggling.

"Gross," John said. "Wait, so has that ever been, like, an issue for you two?"

"Um, a little bit," Paul said. "It's in the beginning. Yet another thing we survived and buried in our wake."

John hummed. "So just you and Yoko are from the future, right?"

"And —"

"Oh, and John Deacon and Roger Taylor," John said.

"Yes."

"And you four are the only ones who know about the F.H.O. and the Shadows and the — the Unknowables, is it?"

"Yeah, they're the Unknowables. But no, actually, Stu knows about them to."

John did a double take. "Wait, who?"

"Stu."

"Stuart?"

"Yes."

"Stuart Sutcliffe?"

"Yes, John, what are you on about?"

"I — I just — why does he know about them?" John asked.

"Well, in the other timeline he died early in the sixties," Paul said. "Someone saved him, we're not totally sure who — that's actually a point of suspicion, things not adding up, I think someone has to be hiding something I just don't know who it is — but, so, someone stopped him from dying and —"

"Okay, but George told me he was being contained because he wasn't adjusting to this well," John said. "The magic, the time travel."

"Um," Paul said. "Maybe magical travel didn't really agree with him? But he shouldn't be having a hard time processing all this. He's known for years."

"Are you sure?" John asked.

"Yeah," Paul said. "When we all went to visit him and Astrid it came up. He told me."

"Okay," John said. "As long as you're sure —"

"I am."

"George definitely said to me that Stu was being contained because he was having a hard time with all of this," John said. "I remember, it was right after he got back from his mission, we were going back to your room —"

"His what?!" Paul said.

"What?" John said.

"His mission?" Paul said.

"Yeah, he went on a —"

"Why?!"

"Barney said he insisted. I don't know that much about it — honest."

Paul furrowed his brow. "He told you that you died in the other timeline, it sounds like he's lying about Stu, and he's going off on missions now. He was never supposed to do that. God, if I'd only known this when I saw him earlier in the week, I would've torn him a new —"

"Excuse me, when you saw him when?" John said.

"Earlier this week," Paul said. "I don't remember exactly what day it was. He only came two or three times —"

"Two or three?! But I —"

"I know that wouldn't let you come, I'm sorry," Paul said. "I was... I wasn't in a good place. I asked them to not let you see me."

"But George —"

"Does work with these people," Paul said. "He's my friend, yes, but he was coming more as a... colleague? But just because he works with them, that doesn't mean he can be going off on these missions like he's —"

"Paul, listen!" John said. "I specifically asked George if he had seen you and he told me he hadn't."

"That's weird," Paul said, frowning.

"Really weird," John said.

"You know what we should do, don't you?"

"Corner him and question him together."

"We're on the same wavelength, you and I."

Paul took John by the hand, and they leapt up. Sprinting toward the door, they breezed past Barney despite the man's protests, and they raced through the halls.

"Hey, don't we need to be careful of your bullet wounds?" John asked as it dawned on him.

"No, they're all better just like yours," Paul said, grinning. "They're using, like, twenty third century medical technology!"

"Ha!" John exclaimed. "That's brilliant!"

"There's George!" Paul cried.

George turned around when he heard his name, and his face broke into a grin. "Paul, oh my God! You're up! How are —"

John cut him off. "What the fuck, George?"

"Wha-what?" George said, taken aback.

"Okay, you could've been a little bit nicer than all that," Paul sighed at John, then he turned to face George. "I think you have some explaining to do."