A/N: Hello, lovelies! I am back and with a brand new story! I had writer's block for a very long time, and then as soon as I got over it, my laptop broke! On the first day of summer! I have a new one now, but I don't have Microsoft Office 2010 installed yet. So right now I am using fanfiction's brilliant "Copy-N-Paste" method... But that still means I can't get my hands on the other stories for a while. So here's this one! This prologue is strongly inspired by the beginning to the Reichenbach Fall episode of Sherlock. So. Yeah. And anyway, I would like to mention that I saw Paul McCartney in concert on the 9th! IT WAS AMAZING! ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! I CRIED! Haha. Oh. Yeah. And this is also based off something he said at the concert, too. Well, enjoy!
Rated: M for sexual content and fowl language.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles and anyone or anything associated with them.
Paul's POV
Prologue
December 21st, 1980: New York, New York
"I suppose you didn't come here today to talk about John's death, Mr. McCartney, so I guess I'll just ask it," said Dr. Perry, clicking the end of her pen and holding it to the notepad before looking up at me, "Why exactly are you here?"
I narrowed my eyes a bit at her, choosing my response carefully. "An' what makes yeh think that 'm not here because of John?" I brought my hand to my chin and stroked the short bits of facial hair I had, glancing down at her notepad and then back up at her as she began to move.
"Oh, well, you know. I read the paper from time to time," the therapist said as she took a newspaper from her desk and placed it in my lap. "I got my ideas from there," she shrugged.
I looked down at the paper and read the headline, "McCartney says Lennon's death is a drag… What?" I looked up back up at her.
"Well, you said it. And usually when people say something is a drag, they mean it sucks, but it's not the worst thing—"
"Well, the fuck with that, because I meant every part of that word!" I snapped at her, making her eyes widen as she sat back in her seat. "It's really a fuckin' drag, y'know. He's fuckin' gone, an' I have to live each an' every day without 'im here!"
Dr. Perry swallowed a bit and relaxed, "Well, Mr. McCartney. Surely it won't be hard for you to get along without him, since the two of you hardly even saw each other in the first place."
"Yeah, but just the fact that he's gone for good, and that I can't see him again, is going to make every day harder for me. That's why it's a drag, Dr. Perry." I bit my lip as she became quiet and stared at me. After a moment, I shifted my weight in my seat. "Have yeh ever loved, Dr. Perry?"
"Why, of course I have. I have a husband and two beautiful children." She raised an eyebrow at me, confused.
"An' how long have yeh loved yer husband?" I leaned forward in my chair a bit.
"We've been together for twelve years." She spoke hesitantly. "Why?"
"Imagine if yeh lost yer husband for good after those twelve years," I bit my lip, trying my hardest not to show any emotion. I tried my best blocking any thoughts of John from my head as I studied the therapist's face. "What would yer life be like then, hm? How would yeh feel?"
"I…" She paused for a moment, her face becoming concerned and sorrowful. "Awful. I would be completely miserable."
"Yeh, an' what if towards the end of his life, yeh became very distant from each other, an' less… In love than yeh were when yeh married 'im, hm?!" My voice rose with every word, and my eyes began to get flooded with tears. "An' what if yeh had somethin' important to tell 'im, somethin' that would revive yer relationship, an' just before or after yeh told 'im, he ended up dyin', hm?! Then what?!" I stared at her for a moment and she stared back, completely silent and slightly frightened. And when that moment was over, I sat back down into my seat and broke out into sobs.
I felt her hand smoothly and slowly running along my back as her other hand rested itself upon my shoulder. She knelt next to me for a couple minutes, calming me down. "Paul," she spoke finally, "Is there something you need to say?" I nodded and looked at her as she took her seat across from me again. "Then what is it, dear?"
"John," I started, and stopped to bite my lip, holding back another cry. "I love him. 'm in love with him. An' I came to New York City to tell him just that. After all these years, he'd been waiting to hear it from me. An' now he's… He's gone."
She stared at me and I became immensely nervous and scared of her possible reaction. Finally, she set her notepad and pen behind her on her desk and leaned forward in her seat to look at me closely. "And did you get to tell him that?"
"Yeh, but what difference does it make? By the time I told him, it was already too late. He had been shot an' we were on the way to the hospital." I frowned and looked down at the ground before shutting my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Paul," the woman spoke softly. "I'm so sorry."
I nodded, taking in a deep breath. "Can yeh do me one thing, though?" I opened my eyes and looked up at her and she nodded. "When yeh go home tonight, make sure yer husband an' yeh kids know yeh love 'em. Do it now. Do it now while they're still here today. Yeh promise?"
Dr. Perry nodded slowly. "I promise."
A/N: Thoughts, please!