"Well, I'm glad you two have finally met," Paul said. "Although, I'm sorry to have missed it, both because it must have made things very confusing for the both of you and because I would have loved to witness that."

It had been over a week since Paul's trip to the emergency room and while he felt as if he was perfectly capable of walking around at his will by now, John insisted he wait out the full two weeks of bedrest.

George shrugged his shoulders. "It would've been helpful to have had you there but I don't know why you'd have liked to bare witness. It wasn't all that interesting. It was a bit depressing, really."

"Oh... really?" Paul sounded rather disappointed.

"Well, I didn't torment George the way I did to you when we met for the first time," Barney said.

Paul scoffed. "Well, why not?"

"Didn't exactly know I'd be having a chat with him, now, did I?" Barney said.

"How'd he torment you when you first met?" George asked, looking back and forth between Paul and Barney.

"Oh, my god," Paul groaned while Barney laughed. "He made up these bullshit stories about the future and he appeared out of thin air and disappeared into with absolutely no warning at all and, mind, you, I'd just arrived in 1961 that same day. It was all quite a lot to take in. Oh, and let us not forget the ribs —"

"The ribs!" Barney cackled.

"The ribs?" George questioned.

"He used to just produce ribs out of nowhere using magic," Paul sighed. "Like, all the time."

"But... why?" George asked.

"I don't know," Barney said, shrugging his shoulders. "Thought I'd offer up some food when we first met, he didn't accept. I was waiting for him to try the ribs."

"I'm a vegetarian!" Paul exclaimed.

Barney looked at Paul for a long time, then groaned and exclaimed, "Fuck! I forgot! What a waste of all those ribs." He frowned, staring down at the floor. He held up his hand and there was suddenly a plate of ribs sitting there, balancing on his palm. "George? Ribs?"

"I... am also a vegetarian," George said, sounding almost apologetic.

"Oh, right," Barney sighed. "Oh, well," he said, putting his arm back down, the ribs disappearing into thin air as he did so. "Anyway, Paul, the meeting with the F.H.O. —"

"Yeah, I'll get dressed now," said Paul, moving to get out of bed.

"Whoa, wait just a second," George said. "You haven't finished your two weeks of bedrest and John would not approve —"

"Well, John is at the grocery store which is an hour away because we live in the middle of nowhere," Paul said. "And also I am a grown adult and I can make decisions for myself, thank you."

"Yeah, you're staying in bed," Barney said.

"What?" Paul said. "But you just said —"

"Yeah, time travel, Paul," Barney said. "I'll come get you in, like, a week. So, see you in an hour."

Paul rolled his eyes as Barney disappeared. "He thinks he's funny," he said to George.

George chuckled.

***

"There you are," John said. He handed Paul a mug filled with tea before climbing into bed beside him. He laid his head down on Paul's lap. "How are you feeling today?" he asked.

"Well enough to stand," Paul said pointedly.

John hummed. "Four more days."

"This is ridiculous," Paul huffed.

"Doctor's orders," John said.

"Yeah, but —"

"Paul, I say this lovingly," John said, looking up at him, "if you die, I'll fucking kill you."

Paul laughed. "I love you, too."

John smiled, laying back down.

"John?"

"Hm?"

"I want Mike to come to the wedding."

John looked up at him again. "Our wedding?"

"Well, I don't have very much control over whether he's invited to George's wedding or not," Paul said. "And he already is anyway."

"Yeah, it's just..." John sat up so that he was face-to-face with Paul. "You know if you want him to come that means... you have to tell him."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Yes, I figured as much, thank you."

"I just want to make sure that you're prepared for that, is all," said John. "You know, it's always a risk..."

Paul shrugged. "He's my brother. I should've told him sooner, quite honestly. I want him to be there. I just want you to be okay with it."

"He's your brother," John said, smiling. "You tell him whenever you like, and we can have him at the wedding, whenever we end up having that."

Paul set his tea down on the bedside table before leaning in and hugging John tightly. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for, love."

***

"You doing okay, Paulie?" Barney asked.

They were standing right outside the massive double doors that led to the courtroom where, eight years ago, Paul had been questioned by President Wilson and Judge Matthews. They were waiting anxiously to be invited into the courtroom.

"Not really," Paul said, shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm back here. I can't believe I'm going back in there. I'm terrified that they... well, you know."

"It's fine," Barney said. He took a step closer to Paul and started fiddling with his dress clothes, straightening his collar and smoothing out his blazer. "Just... pretend that nothing has changed since the last time we were here, right? Answer all their questions, no matter what they ask. Don't question them, speak only when spoken to. Just... be smart, okay?"

"Yeah," Paul said. "God, that all feels like a lifetime ago."

"Yeah, I know," Barney sighed. "Simpler times."

"Seriously," said Paul.

"You know you've got to tell them about George, right?" Barney said, and Paul looked at him with wide eyes. "Because if they find out then they'll know you were hiding it from them and then you'll be a traitor and you know what happens to traitors around here..." he trailed off and glanced over his shoulder, down a hallway that Paul recognized to be the one that led to the White Room.

"Yeah, I know..." Paul said, frowning. "George is going to be upset. He's so scared that they'll hurt him, and I... I'm scared of that, too."

"Okay," Barney said, shushing Paul. "Maybe this isn't the best place to be —"

"Yeah, I know, you're right," Paul sighed. "Sorry."

"They're not gonna hurt him, though," Barney said, voice quieter than a whisper even. "They need him. Their plan is for all the Beatles to be alive. That works in his favor."

"Yeah," Paul sighed.

The doors swung open and a rather severe looking woman stood behind them. "Mr. McCartney, the court will see you now." She turned on her heel and marched back to her seat.

Paul and Barney exchanged a glance, each of them nodded once, then they strode into the room. Barney took his place along the rim of the sea of black robes, and Paul took his place, standing in front of the chair that stood in the dead center of the room, awaiting instruction.

"Be seated," said Judge Matthews, and Paul obeyed. "Are you prepared to proceed with today's meeting?"

"Yes, your honor," Paul answered quickly.

Judge Matthews nodded. "Please state your full name for the members of the court."

"James Paul McCartney."

Judge Matthews looked at him very pointedly and spoke very clearly as he asked, "And can you state the name of your advisor for the members of the court today, Mr. McCartney?"

"Yes," Paul said. "My advisor is Barney Lynch."

"Excellent," said Judge Matthews, pausing to make a note of this. "What is your date of birth?"

"It is June eighteenth of 1942."

"Where were you born?"

"Liverpool, England."

"And where are you currently living?"

"The Gloucestershire Countryside in England."

"Can you can confirm that you are currently romantically involved with a man?"

Paul nodded. "Yes."

"Are you currently living with this man?"

Paul nodded. "Yes."

"State your partner's full name for the members of the court."

"John Winston Lennon."

"And, Mr. McCartney," said Judge Matthews, "have you and Mr. Lennon —"

Oh, here we go again, Paul thought to himself, sighing inwardly.

"— been sexually active?"

Paul fought hard to keep his eyes from rolling dramatically. He still thought it was ridiculous that they asked this question. Eight years later, and he still thought that it was too deeply personal a question to be asking.

All the same, he said, "Yes."

"Now," Judge Matthews said, "for the members of the court, can you please describe the relevant event that transpired on December eighth of 1980, which is your primary mission to reverse?"

Paul coughed. "Yes, um... on December the eighth, 1980, just before eleven o' clock at night, John was — he was shot five times, outside of his apartment building by Mark David Chapman."

"Excellent," said Judge Matthews. "Moving on. The court would like to address the fact that, in recent years, you have been documented spending quite a bit of time with one Yoko Ono. The court asks you to please explain this."

"Yeah, um..."

Paul could not believe this. They send Yoko in as their secret weapon, as their Plan B, and they hide all of this from Paul — or, at least, they think that they are keeping it hidden from him — and they have the audacity to speak down to him and make him explain his reasoning for spending time with someone.

"She's just been a really good friend to me these past few years, you know?" Paul said.

"Elaborate," said Judge Matthews.

Paul nodded. "Right, yeah, so a friend is someone that you know who you share a bond with —"

"Mr. McCartney," Judge Matthews snapped. "I certainly hope that you are not acting facetiously in my courtroom."

Paul caught Barney's eye and found an expression there that was half scolding and half amused. "My apologies," he said reluctantly. "Yoko Ono has been a good friend to me, and there is nothing more to it. It doesn't come as much of a shock to me because I was friends with Yoko before all of this — being pulled back into my own timeline, I mean. We get along, she gets on with John and George and Ringo."

"Yes, that is all well and good, however, do you not think that perhaps it is a bad idea to keep her around Mr. Lennon?" Judge Matthews sighed. "Given their... history?"

"They have no history," Paul said defiantly. "That was a whole other lifetime. She doesn't remember of it." A lie, of course. This was a lie. But Paul wasn't supposed to know that and he enjoyed watching Judge Matthews squirm uncomfortably.

"Yes, but, naturally she will fall in love with him and then —" Judge Matthews was shaking his head.

"She knows about me and John," said Paul.

"She what?" Judge Matthews asked.

"She knows about us," said Paul. "About how we are together. Well, of course, some people have begun to find out. It's only natural."

Judge Matthews sighed. "Who else knows?"

"Ringo and George," Paul said. "Brian Epstein knew... sort of."

"Anyone else?" Judge Matthews asked as he jotted down notes feverishly.

"My brother Mike," said Paul.

"Right," said Judge Matthews. "I — I suppose we shall give you clearance to continue spending time with Yoko Ono."

"Thank you so much," Paul said, toeing the line between genuineness and sarcasm.

Judge Matthews leaned toward one of the members of the court and hissed out, "Send a message to President Wilson. Tell him we need him here now." Obviously trying to keep quiet, obviously failing. He turned back to facing Paul where he sat in the center of the courtroom. "Now, Mr. McCartney," he said breathlessly. "Is there anything that has happened in time since we last met that the F.H.O. should be made aware of?"

"Yes," said Paul.

"What is it, then?" Judge Matthews questioned.

Here goes nothing, Paul thought to himself.

"I was taken hostage by the Shadows," said Paul. "Again."

"Jesus," Judge Matthews murmured. "What new information do they have now?"

"None," Paul said, shaking his head. "They don't have anything that they didn't have before... but, they did take George Harrison along for the ride when they took me. And now... well, now he knows everything."

"Well," said a voice behind Paul. "That does put us all in a difficult situation, now, doesn't it?"

Paul turned around in his seat and looked to find President Wilson standing there in the double doorway.

"Mr. President," Judge Matthews said. "Thank you for joining —"

"I feel like it's not such a difficult situation," said Paul.

"Really?" said President Wilson, crossing the room to get to his seat. "And, pray tell, how would you deal with these matter so easily, Mr. McCartney?"

"Let him help me," Paul said. "He already knows everything, so we just leave it be and accept the assistance. I know you're not out there living in the sixties so you wouldn't know this, but I've gotta say, we're a little understaffed."

"Are you complaining about your living arrangements, Mr. McCartney?" President Wilson sighed.

"Not about my house itself, no," Paul huffed right back. "That's actually quite nice. Two story, lots of space, it's got a pool. Me and John picked it out ourselves, out in the English countryside. But being all alone out there with no one to call for help when the Shadows take me and my friend as hostages? Yeah, I'm sort of complaining about that."

Barney was shaking his head just slightly, giving him a look that asked what he was doing while congratulating him on his boldness at the same time.

President Wilson looked down at Paul for a long while, allowing the whole room to wallow in silence while he worked through his thoughts. Then, at long last, he said, "We will speak with Mr. Harrison immediately."

***

"I — I can't believe you told them," George said, visibly shaking as he was trying to brush his hair, trying to make it look like something close to decent. "I can't believe — we said that — Paul," he bit back a sob as he threw down the comb in his hand.

Paul said, "George, I know, but Barney said —"

"Barney said," George said. "Paul, you said that we wouldn't tell anyone. That we'd keep this a secret. And then you told Barney, and then Barney told them —"

"No, I — I am the one who told them," Paul said.

"Because Barney said —" George spat.

"George, listen," Paul sighed. "I'm sorry I brought up Barney, I shouldn't have tried to, like —"

"I just don't get it," George said, shaking his head. "How could you betray me like that?"

"George, I — I was protecting you," Paul said, desperate for George to believe. "C'mon, you gotta listen to me now, and I mean really listen. There are things you don't know about these people..."

"Only because you haven't told me," George hissed.

"I know, I know," Paul said, nodding. "I didn't think you'd need to know. I didn't want you to know because it's bad, it is truly horrific. If — if we don't tell them about this, right? If we don't tell them and they find out..." he shuddered and found himself unsteady on his feet. He sunk down to sit upon a stool that stood beside George's vanity. "You, me, and Barney will be marked as traitors. And what they do to the people who betray them, Georgie..."

George watched Paul for a few long moments before he finally asked, cautiously, "What... what do they do to their traitors, Paul?"

"It's called..." Paul paused, shivered. "It's called the White Room."

"That doesn't sound pleasant," George said, frowning.

Paul laughed humorlessly. "It's a room, right?"

"Gathered as much," said George.

"They put people in it," said Paul. "And those people just... go insane."

"Okay," George said slowly. "But... like... how?"

"I don't know, I guess they..." Paul sighed, "see things? I don't know, people who come out of the room aren't really in any position to be holding a conversation."

"And that's where they'll put us if they find out I know everything?" George asked.

"Well, not now," Paul said. "Because I've already told them..."

"Oh, right," said George. "Well, then... thank you. Sorry I yelled at you."

"No, don't apologize," Paul said. "It was warranted."

"We should... go now? Yeah?" George said.

Paul sighed. "Yeah. Barney will be waiting downstairs."

"Yeah," George sighed. "Here goes nothing, right?"

Paul just sighed again and didn't say anything at all. He led George down the stairs of his own house and the guilty feeling that was burning inside of him sunk down even lower into the very pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but feel, on some level, like he was leading George to his death. Even though he wasn't even though that was ridiculous! Still, the feeling lingered.

(He felt like maybe he should tell George that if Paul couldn't stop John's death then he F.H.O. was going to stick the two of them, along with Ringo, into the White Room.)

"Are the both of you ready?" Barney asked upon Paul and George's entry into George's kitchen.

Paul nodded and then looked over at George, waiting for him to give the go-ahead. George inhaled deeply, and then he nodded as well.

"Okay, well," Barney said, "I believe it goes without saying that you do not mention the Unknowables. And you do not mention that Yoko has been brought from the future back to the sixties. As far as the F.H.O. is concerned, we do not know about that."

"Got it," George said, nodding. "And got it."

"This is going to be," Barney began, shaking his head slowly, trying to process every thought flying through his brain all at once, "very straightforward. They will ask you questions and you will answer like you think — no. No, no, no. You will answer their questions... like you know... that the F.H.O. is the most courageous, the most righteous, just — just the best organization that ever has or ever will grace the earth. Yes?"

"Yes," George agreed, nodding again.

"Okay..." Barney said, reached both of his arms out, and sighed. "Both of you take my hand."

Paul did as he was told immediately. He grasped Barney's hand and held on tightly. George, on the other hand, hesitated for a moment. He reached out slowly, his hand shaking as he gently took hold of Barney's outstretched hand. He winced when Barney gripped his hand as hard as he could, even though it didn't cause him any pain.

George looked to Paul with tears in his eyes. "Paul," he said, voice shaking. He was loathe to admit his feelings in front of Barney, but there weren't many other options now. "Paul, I'm scared."

Paul nodded, blinking back tears of his own. "I know," he said because there was nothing else to say. There were no words of comfort that Paul could offer his friend. So he reached out with his empty hand and grabbed onto George's available hand. He held it tightly and hoped that this was a good replacement for all of the reassurances that he knew he could not say without lying through his teeth. It was the only thing he could do for George now.

"There's no going back now," Barney said gravely.

One moment, the three of them stood there, holding hands and forming a small circle. Next moment, the kitchen was empty; they were gone.