Hi, people. This is a one-shot I made to break my Writer's Block. Sometimes, I just need to get away from my other stories and get the creative juices flowing. So, the first chapter to the other story should be out soon. As in, within the next hour. This is what happens when I listen to kenny Loggins for long periods of time. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own John Lennon, the Beatles or anything else mentioned in the story.

Most babies are born to a mother a father and perhaps a few siblings. John Lennon wasn't born with such things. He was born with an angel. The woman first appeared to him in a dream he had when he was five. When asked who she was, she simply responded "A friend". And a friend she was. Sometimes she was nothing more than a shadow in John's dreams, sometimes she was a face smiling from the shadows of Liverpool.

Most people believed she wasn't real, just a figment from a child's imagination. Few truly understood what she was. Julia Lennon was one of these people. And for that, John loved her. Loved the fact that she didn't sign her off as an imaginary friend. If she existed to John, as far as Julia was concerned, then she was real. The day Julia died, John stumbled to bed, hoping she could hold him one last time, so he could say goodbye. If his angel was real, why couldn't his mother be, too?

Only his angel was there, tears streaming down her face. She held him close and promised him Julia was in a happier place, a place of sunshine and love. All John could do was cry. First with her, then with his newfound friend, Paul. They both knew this pain. But Paul could never understand his angel. His angel understood him, though. She knew exactly who they both would become, and how much John would need him.

John needed her less as he grew up, went to Hamburg, got married, had a kid and became one of the most famous men in the world. She was always there, though. There to hear his concerns about Cynthia, how he wished he could be a better father to Julian. There to hear the newest song. There to make him laugh when it all became too much.

Later, John met her more as she saved him from himself. In an acid trip, she would guide him back to reality. He confided in her the affairs he was having, the trouble his band was in...everything. When life was dark, she was his light. When he divorced Cynthia to marry Yoko, she understood. When Paul and him fought, she held him in her arms as he told her the fear that he was losing his best friend.

After the Beatles broke up, she silently stood by his side when he was in the studio. No one saw her. No one cared. Except John. John knew she was there. She was a comfort; his and his alone.

The next ten years soared by, a blur of protests, music and drugs. Sean was born. Yoko and John fought, split and got back together. She stood by for all of it, tears in her eyes as he left at the end of the night. For she knew what was coming closer, what she had to do and she could do nothing to stop it.

On December 8th, 1980, John went back to his house after a day of recording. She followed him home, tears streaming down her face. Standing there as he was shot six times by a madman. As he stumbled into the building crying that he was shot. As he fell to the floor, still. Only then did she walk to him. He stood up and took her hand.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

All she could do was nod as they walked out of the hotel. John followed her as they soared to the heavens. As she took him to his son to say goodbye. The girl with kaleidoscope eyes.