Chapter 11: Closer

"What do we do, then?"George asked quietly.

There was silence. I pulled myself apart from John and looked around at everyone. Ringo was looking up, trying not to let any of his tears fall. George was slumped against the wall next to a blue and purple graffiti message that read: Hope. Paul was holding EC's hand and they both looked down. I saw a tear drop from Paul's eye just as moment before EC let one of her own fall. My vision blurred as tears welled up in my own eyes. I realized that I no longer thought of these people as weird strangers, but rather as friends. It's funny how things like this pull people closer together. I leaned against John, wishing I had an answer for his future and that of his friends. But I didn't have a solution, just a bunch of "what if's."

"I…I don't know what we can do to fix this, but," I started, my voice shaking as tears ran down my face, "but we can try to make things better now."

Five pairs of eyes looked at me in confusion. Not a one of those eyes was dry.

"What?" Paul asked in a quiet voice that was trembling as much as my own.

"We can do something. It's not the end of the world. If you can't go back, you'll need a future here," I decided, although I had no idea where that future would be, "And that can start now. With something small. Have you guys ever seen a Disney movie?"

Blank stares were my only response. Even EC, who enjoyed old Disney movies as much as I did, met me with a confused look. She was probably more confused about how I got from their future to Disney movies, though. It was a bit of a random leap.

"Right," I said, a little uncertainly, "We could go back to my house and relax, maybe sit on the couch and watch a movie," I offered.

"Sure," EC replied after a moment's hesitation, "We can do that. Your house is closer than mine anyways.

I looked at the Beatles, wondering if they'd be up for another bike ride. Looking at John's face, level with my own, I made up my mind, and theirs.

"Alright, my house it is," I said, wiping my eyes with my t-shirt sleeve. I took a step towards my bike and away from John's warm, comforting side and immediately missed being next to him. But I continued on, knowing that nobody else would take the lead at this point. I looked expectantly at everyone else, who hadn't moved. I felt another wave of tears coming, and wondered again how I could be feeling so much emotion for these four guys that I had met only two days ago.

"Paul?" EC said, looking up at his face, both their cheeks stained with tears, "Will you come with me?"

Paul put his arm around her and nodded. They walked to their bikes together. That seemed to break everyone else's paralysis. George picked himself off of the ground and followed John and Ringo to their bikes. John wheeled his bike next to mine, then swung himself up on top of it.

"Hell of a weird day, innit?" he said, trying to push his emotions aside, but anyone could see through his thin mask.

"The worst is over," I said softly, hoping I was right. Feeling silly and childish, I let go of one of the handles on my bike. Seeing this, John put a sad smile on his face and let go of one of his bike handles. He reached out his hand towards mine, and I grabbed his. No longer feeling stupid, I started pedaling, my hand still in his. That's how we biked the whole way to my house: hand in hand.

The ride was strange when I began to think about it. While four British guys with mops should have attracted everyone's attention, nobody seemed to notice at all. They just gave our group a passing glance, then continued on their merry way. I began to wonder how our group looked to the eyes of an outsider. Me and John holding hands, leading three more guys and a girl, all of us with both old and fresh tears, crying quietly. People should have looked, should have wondered, but even Minnesotans, known for being "Minnesota Nice" didn't give a crap about us. I was both relieved that nobody asked any questions, and disappointed in my town.

Once we filed through my front door, I led everyone downstairs onto our family room. There was a sectional couch that fit four people, and an ottoman/foot rest. Opposite the couch was a large entertainment center with an old TV, a VCR, and a DVD player. I turned on the lights, deciding to keep the blinds shut.

"Why don't you guys pick out a movie?" I said, pointing to the cabinets next to the TV that were stuffed full of both VHS's and DVD's.

I went back up the stairs, into the kitchen. I opened the fridge, realizing my throat was burning with thirst. I grabbed a water bottle, then five more, figuring the others were probably thirsty, too. Remembering how George always seemed to be hungry, I opened the cupboard and grabbed a bag of chips, balancing it on the water bottles stacked in my arms. I closed the cupboard with my foot, then walked back down the stairs.

Ringo had taken the far seat of the couch, separated from the two seats Paul and EC had taken by a cup holder. Next to EC's seat was another cup holder divider, then the space that George had taken. The trapezoidal ottoman was pushed against the bookcase that stood by the wall next to George. John sat on the ottoman with his back to the bookcase. He had left room, presumably for me. I passed around the water bottles, receiving nods and a word I could only assume met thanks: ta. I gave the bag of chips to Ringo, hoping he understood that they were to be shared.

Looking at the TV, I saw a preview for "The Little Mermaid." It seemed they had the TV figured out, so I flicked off the lights and made my way towards John. I was so emotionally drained, I felt numb. Numb and tired. I sat down next to John and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. As the movie began with the presentation of a lion cub by a baboon, I let my head rest on his chest, my terrible slouch making me shorter than him, rather than the same height. I closed my eyes, letting the familiar sounds of "The Lion King" fill my mind. The warmth coming from John lulled me, and soon I found myself in a land created by my subconscious mind. Falling past that, I found deep sleep.

I woke up to a chorus of quiet snores. The TV was glowing blue, and the clock informed me that I had been asleep for two hours. John had his head resting on mine, his arm still slung around my shoulders. I glanced over at the couch to find Paul and EC in a similar state. I smiled and pressed closer to John. Ringo was sprawled sideways on his chair with his feet inches from Paul's head. He was snoring softly. On the opposite end of the couch, George's seat was empty. I looked around for him, wondering where he had gone. Hearing a loud snore coming from in front of the chair, I found him stretched out on the floor. I wondered if he had gotten off the chair himself or fallen off. Everyone was asleep.

Trying not to disturb John, I gently pushed his head off of my own, letting it slowly roll back to lean against the bookcase. Then, I moved his arm off of my shoulder and got up, tilting my neck sideways with a crack. I stretched. My stretch managed to bring the darkness over my sight, making me feel dizzy and disoriented. After a moment, it began to fade away. I blinked, helping bring my sight back.

I was facing the couch, where Paul had opened his eyes and was looking at me with concern. He still had an arm around EC and was resting his head on her shoulder, but he mouthed "are you okay?" at me. I nodded and gave what I hoped to be a reassuring smile. He seemed satisfied with my answer, so I walked up to the VCR and took out the tape. I placed it back in its case and put the case in the cabinet, not bothering to rewind the movie. I turned off the VCR and grabbed the TV remote. I handed it to Paul, not caring what we watched. Then, I sat back down next to John, who was still asleep, whistling through his nose. As I leaned back against him, he began to stir.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I whispered apologetically.

"I wouldn't wanna wake up to anything else," he replied sleepily. I hoped he didn't notice the blush spreading over my face.

Paul certainly noticed, but he just sent a good-humored wink in my direction, then pulled EC closer.

" 'ey," John whispered urgently, "I just had a thought. You're not… seeing anyone, are ye?"

My blush deepened. "No, I'm not," I whispered back. I paused, unsure if I wanted to voice my next thought. It sounded cheesy to my own mind. But I decided I didn't care, and said it anyways. "But I am looking at you."

John chuckled, then asked, "How'd ye like to stay with me for a while? Be my girl? You're a pretty bird and I'd like to get to know you more."

My heart leaped in joy as my mind wondered how I'd fallen in love with the man I hated only two days before. I was more happy than I'd ever been before.

"I'd love to," I found myself saying, then I let out a chuckle of my own, "But how about you stay here with me, so we can meet in an actual house."

John laughed quietly, disturbing George's sleep.

"Oi!" George grumbled, "Can't a bloke get a good rest around here?"

"Apparently not," Ringo mumbled from his spot on the couch as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Well, now that we're all up," Paul said, watching EC sit up and stretch with a look of longing and affection.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I've never had such a nice nap," EC said with a satisfied look on her face.

I realized the same was true for me. It was nice, napping in the arms of a guy.

"Well," Ringo said, painfully aware that two of band mates and closest friends had a girl in their arms while he was alone, "What are we supposed to do now?

We can't just sit on this couch and watch lions for the rest of our lives."

I exchanged a glance with EC. Her eyes seemed to say the same thing as my thoughts: what dowe do?

"George sat up, also uncomfortably aware that he did not have a girl, "I don't suppose Rings and I could go out and pick up a couple birds, can we?"

John laughed, not unkindly, "It looks like the couch is full, so probably not."

George sighed, "Thought not."

"We should probably focus on more important things anyways. Like finding a place for you guys to stay more permanently," I said, then grinned, "Unless you like coming out of the closet each morning!"

EC snorted and tried to hide her laughter. The joke was lost on the Beatles, though.

"What's so funny about coming out of the closet?" John asked, disappointed that he couldn't join in the joke.

I laughed again. "Tell you later," I promised.