{so I think I am done with flashbacks/ pre-Let It Be scenes for now. This means that from now on all the chapters will take place during the Get Back/ Let it Be sessions, unless I change my mind, in which case I'll let you know. Enjoy!}

GEORGE

"Well," Ringo said, softly. "There you go."

I had walked back into the studio, and he and Paul were still standing in the same spots.

A bang came from the back. We turned to see Heather next to an overturned music stand. Her face was twisted in an apologetic cringe.

"It's alright, love," Paul said softly, walking over to her. "Come here." Heather shyly walked to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked squeakily.

Paul smiled and nodded. "Yeah, darling. Everyone is okay." He pulled her in for a hug.

I forgot that she had been here all this time. I thought of everything that had happened today: the discovery of my song in Paul's music sheets, John's smirk as he announced he put the song there, my outburst and confession about Pattie and Eric, finding Prudence in the rain...

Jesus, did all that happen today?

It didn't seem possible that so many things had happened before suppertime. I suddenly felt overwhelmed.

Paul had said everyone was okay. But that was a lie, a sweet guise for an innocent child's ears.

"Well, since we are missing a Beatle, why don't let's call it a day and pick up tomorrow?" Paul said, still hugging Heather. "I think we all need a bit of a break."

"Yeah," Ringo said. I just nodded.

The three of us and Heather collected our belongings and left the studio, first Paul and his girl, then me, then Ringo. We walked out the door, and without any goodbyes, turned to go our separate ways, back to our awaiting homes.

As I was walking I saw a cab driving close by. I waved to it and it pulled up to the curb. I opened the door and ducked into the car.

"Where to, sir?" The man had a jolly voice.

I rattled off my address hurriedly.

"Alright, sir." He started to drive. "Jesus, isn't this weather a wonder? Th'rain's peltin' like no one's business."

I looked out the window and nodded absentmindedly.

"Look at them clouds," he continued with a chortle. "I will never understand why people are dyin' to go to London."

I grunted a response. The driver, realizing that I was not the conversational type, instead turned on the radio.

"... just-released track by that hot n' heavy blues band, Cream, let's give White Room a spin."

In the white room, with black curtains, near the station.

Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings,

I had listened to this song when Eric's band was recording it, weeks ago. Eric had told me how excited he was about the band's new album. I had loved the song, and told him how good it was.

Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes.

Dawnlight smiles on you leaving, my contentment.

He didn't write it, but he was proud of it nevertheless. I told him the public would dig it.

Pattie was with me in the studio at the time. She said she liked the music.

"It's really interesting," she had said.

"Thank you," Eric had replied. "I'm glad you liked it."

I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines,

Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves.

I leaned my head back against the leather seat. A dull pain was beginning to pulse at the base of my temple.

Eric didn't write it, but it certainly seemed like he did.

You said no strings could secure you at the station,

Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows,

It was a song about forbidden love, about yearning.

I walked into such a sad time at the station,

As I walked out, felt my own need just beginning.

My headache was getting worse. I balled my hands into fists.

The anger was irrational. I knew that. Eric didn't write this song. It was about someone else.

I'll wait in the queue when the trains come back,

Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves.

It probably wasn't even about a person. It was probably about death, or drugs, or some other junk.

I couldn't convince myself. I couldn't rid myself of the jealousy, the anger.

At the party, she was kindness in the hard crowd,

Consolation for the old wound now forgotten,

Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes,

She's just dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings.

"You can stop right here," I said roughly, grabbing the door handle.

"But sir, it's still a bit to go, and ye'll get soaked right through-"

"Just stop here, please." My head was pounding.

The driver nodded and pulled over.

I'll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd,

I tossed him some change and pulled myself out of the cab.

Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves...

I slammed the door and started to walk, my head thudding with each footstep.

JOHN

"Yoko? Yoko!" I swung the door open and tugged my key out from the lock, then pushed it closed behind me. "I'm home!"

The place was silent. I started to walk down the hallway, but remembered that white carpet stained easily. I stepped back and took my shoes off, pushing the heel down with the sole of my other foot. In my sock-clad feet I made my way down the hall.

"Yoko, where are you?" I said. My voice was tight, my words succinct. Still no response.

I wasn't worried, or afraid that something had happened to her. I didn't much care where she was. My mind was occupied by one person.

She was right in front of me, in the studio. She had stood there and stared at me, and I at her.

She had waited for me to say something. I had waited for the same from her. We both had expected explanations, insults, something. But I just split.

"Yoko!" Someone kept calling her name.

If I had opened my mouth, if I had spoken, if I had made some sort of gesture...

What? What would've happened?

For years, I thought I had made peace with her betrayal. I had Cynthia, and Julian, and then, and now, I had Yoko. I thought that distance and time would sand away the hard edges. But how could I know whether that was true unless I spoke to her, face-to-face?

"Yoko!"

I could've found out. I had the opportunity. She wasn't imaginary, she had been right in front of me. But I fled instead. Now we will never know.

"Yoko!" Who keeps calling that name? Is there someone else in the house?

"John!"

Was she here? Did she come to see me?

"Yoko! Yoko!" What on Earth is this bloody sod yelling about?

"John!"

I felt her hand on my back. I spun around to face her. "Pru-"

Yoko's dark, tired, worried eyes stared back up at me. "John?"

I didn't answer.

"I heard you screaming," she said. "It woke me up."

"Screaming? I... I wasn't..." My voice faded. I realized that I was the bloody sod yelling earlier.

"John, what's wrong?" Yoko asked me. She looked small. I didn't remember her being so small.

"Nothing, nothing. I was just..." I sucked in a breath, bringing myself back to the real world. "I was just worried about ye, tha's all."

Yoko smiled wearily. "You nearly gave me a heart attack with your screams." She ran her hand up my arm to my shoulder. I stood frozen, trying to slow down my whirling mind.

I heard Pru say that she was here on business. And I saw her in the balcony across the street. So maybe this won't be the last time I see her.

But what if it isn't? What will happen if we see each other again?

But what if we don't? What if we spend the rest of our lives not knowing how this was to turn out?

"... but the fever's going away and I'm not coughing as much."

I blinked myself into focus. "What?"

Yoko stared at me quizzically. "I was just saying that I think I'm getting better. Maybe I'll be able to join you at the studio tomorrow." She looked past me and let out a gasp. "John! It's not even two o'clock yet! Shouldn't you be recording?"

I looked down at her. She looked weak, with bags under her eyes and a slightly red nose. She looked back up at me, concerned.

She was radiant.

"I had to come see you," I said softly. "To tell you I love you."

Yoko smiled. "I love you, too. Come, we can have some tea together."

{OOH DRAMA

What is John going to do?

*announcer voice* Stay tuned for the next episode of Days of Our Lives

teehee

Two days ago I was watching TV and MTVlive had GeorgeFest on and it was so wonderful

The Killers sang Got My Mind Set on You I think and they were great

and Dhani was there and he was perfect as usual

and Conan O' Brien was there too, and Weird Al, and they were both really good

George is my favorite Beatle if you couldn't tell :)

Enjoy your day guys!

PEACE AND LOVE L***}