Author's Note: Okay, it's been a good long while, and I'm sorry! But I finally managed to finish this short, even if the ending may seem a bit cheesy... You'll see. I apologize for any out of character-ness or less-than-fantastic writing and plot. It has been too long!

A huge thank you to all the favorites, follows, and reviews! You guys are the best, and you should know it! Thanks!

Ghost of A Chance

Part III: Free As A Bird

It had been six months. John was becoming increasingly annoying as he was forced to live my routine-filled life of classes, homework, and running. On the other hand, I was also becoming more and more anxious to set him free and be rid of him, despite the bond we had.

"John, what do you want?" I asked calmly to the otherwise empty dorm room. We had gone through so many conversations starting with that question in an effort to free him of the invisible chains that bound him to me.

He sighed and flopped down on my bed. "I told you everything I wanted! Life, freedom, Yoko, youth, love, beer, wine, a cat, some peanuts, guitars, a harmonica, recording equipment, a slimmer figure, sex, a better room, less lectures, wings, money-"

"Okay, okay," I sighed, "I know. But there must be something we're missing!" In the past, I had tried to get him most of the things he asked for, refusing only a few, and nothing had changed.

"What's the use?" he moaned, "I'll be there for your wedding, the honeymoon, the birth of your children, everything. I won't have a choice, and neither will you."

I grimaced at the thought of John next to me, invisibly, with my future husband on our honeymoon. That would make things awkward.

"Better get used to it," John continued, "I'm going nowhere for a long while."

I began to wonder if he was as desperate to get away as I had thought. I, for one, had mixed feelings. He was very much so my closest friend, but at the same time, he was one hell of annoying man. Granted, he was always cracking a joke, and he did have his sweet moments, but having to be next to him 24/7 was not something I would recommend to anyone.

"Come on, John, there's gotta be something!" I exclaimed desperately, "What haven't you mentioned? "

He shrugged and dangled a leg off of my bed. With one hand, he fumbled for my small radio and turned it on, going through the stations, most of them pure static. Sometimes, he had that effect on technology. It would reject his presence and dysfunction for a short time, especially when he was either angry, scared, or a similar emotion.

I sighed and sat down on my desk, clearing aside various papers of homework, doodles, and bits of stories and poems I wrote down. I picked up my phone and absent-mindedly looked through the apps it contained, not really seeing any of them so much as looking past them as I thought. Clearly, John was hiding something. I had spent too much time with him to not pick up on the signs. The problem was figuring out what he was hiding, and why.

I refocused on the phone long enough to pick the app for my music. The white noise of static was beginning to bother me, and I was fairly certain John knew that, but I wasn't going to grant him the satisfaction of telling him. Instead, I put my playlist of music from the sixties to current various forms of rock. Half the songs were ones I had taken from a college friend, but had yet to hear. Surprisingly, a lot of Lennon's own songs were included in that list.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, listening to thenewno2's newest album. I had been surprised to learn one of the band members was Dhani Harrison, George's son. Then again, it seemed that the Beatles connections were popping up all over recently, not including the Beatle that had made his inhabitancy in my dorm room.

John was unusually quiet as the music played. He turned off the radio in frustration and flopped on the bed to readjust his position, huffing loudly.

I rolled my eyes as the song changed. It was one I had heard before, but hadn't recognized. Of course, the voice had since become familiar, spitting out words that I didn't quite catch. Then, the chorus began and the John on my lofted bed hummed along absently.

"All we are saying," the recording sounded, "Is give peace a chance."

"Hey, Johnny, not bad," I said.

He grunted in response.

"What are you even saying in the verses?" I tried.

He rolled to the side of the bed and hung his head down to look at me. "Not quite sure. Whatever came to mind at the time." His hair fell out of place as he hung upside-down.

I listened in silence for a bit, smiling at his lyrics. I had a terrible ear for these things and caught only about half of the verses, but they were amusing all the same.

Then, I smacked my forehead. "John!" I nearly shouted, "We're daft! Dumb!" I had begun to pick up on some of the phrases I heard from either him or any other British source, but wasn't ready to commit to them.

He wrinkled his face into a look of confusion, but I could see something beyond it, something a bit more like dread. "Are we?" he asked.

"Course we are!" I replied, "Peace! Give peace a chance! Oh, John, what if that's what you want?"

"You'd think I'd know that, then," he scoffed. His tone was too quiet.

"John..." I said softly, "What's up? Seriously, you've been acting real strange. Well, stranger than usual, anyway." I paused and slid off the desk I had been using as a seat, standing up on my feet before hoisting myself up onto the bed next to John. "Why?" I asked simply.

He shrugged. "Don't know what you're on about, love."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then you won't mind trying out this peace thing? See if it works?"

He laughed darkly. "As if it would. What would you do? Take away all the bombs and guns? Tie people's hands to their sides so they can't fight? I tried years to chip away at the wars and hate, and look where we are now. Besides, that probably wouldn't do it anyway."

"Worth a shot," I stated, "Although I may have to ask the professor for help... He's wanted to stay updated, anyway." I clung to the hope that I was right and this would work despite John's doubts.

"Whatever," Lennon grumbled.

"Come on, his office hours start in about twenty minutes," I said, slipping off the bed and landing on the floor with a soft thump. I stepped into my shoes and opened the door.

John reluctantly followed. "Like I have a choice."

"What got up your pants and gave you the grump?" I teased.

He grunted.

"Come on, John," I sighed, grabbing my backpack and heading toward the professor's building on the other side of campus. He didn't get up, but we both knew he would be forced to follow all the same.

Not a few feet outside of my dorm building, I turned as I heard someone talking, an automatic response in such a small college. Most of the students knew at least a bit about each other, and there were little to no social rules about talking to those you didn't know. When I faced the voice, I realized I hadn't actually seen this man before. Not only that, but he seemed to be talking to himself. About gardening, of all things. As soon as he noticed me staring, his mouth shut and he blushed slightly.

John appeared at my side. "He's a right nutter," he muttered in a false accent, following my gaze. His brown eyes soon widened, though, and he audibly gasped, his mouth remaining wide open.

"What is it?" I asked, momentarily forgetting that John was a ghost. I probably looked just as insane as the dark-haired young man in my path, and blushed just as deeply when the thought struck me.

Looking at John's shocked face gave no indication as to what was going on, so I did what comes naturally. I followed his gaze to a spot right behind the stranger, where another stood, one that I hadn't seen before. This man's dark hair was styled in a perm, something I had not seen in real life, and his dark eyebrows were pulled together in confusion over his even darker, piercing eyes. His cheekbones seemed to jut out of his thin face as he stared at John.

"John," I murmured quietly, barely moving my mouth to do so, "What's going on?"

"George..." he whispered in awe. Which wasn't really an answer to my question. It took me far too long to piece things together and realize he meant George Harrison, the George Harrison, was standing in front of us.

My own jaw dropped open as the realization struck me. I looked from George to John, then back to George before sliding over to glance at the boy that seemed to be accompanying the famous musician. His eyes were locked onto John, his expression the one of shock that the rest of is wore. Seeming to notice I was looking at him, the young man tore his gaze from Lennon and looked at me nervously.

"Do you, uh..." he stammered, "Do you go to school here? Place is full of... interesting people."

I nodded. "It sure is," I agreed.

"Even some... celebrities," he said, glancing at John again, but only momentarily.

"So it seems," I replied, "Even ones I never thought I'd be able to see." I glanced at George, who had walked over to John and was on the receiving end of a Lennon hug.

"You can see them, too, right?" he asked.

I turned my attention back. "I sure can. To be honest, been seeing too much of the one lately..." I trailed off.

The boy smiled and stuck out a hand a bit awkwardly. "I'm Stephen," he said as I shook the hand, "And I think I understand what you mean. George over there can't seem to go anywhere unless I go there, too."

"Sounds like my problem with John," I replied warmly, looking into blue-green eyes.

Stephen laughed, shaking his shaggy nutmeg hair. "Finally, someone who understands! It's been a year for me, and I love the guy and all, but I miss personal space!"

"A year?" I repeated, "Ouch... It hasn't been that long for us, but long enough that I barely remember what personal space is! I would love that back." I swipe aside my blonde bangs from my eye and smile.

"I can't imagine what John's like... I've heard stories from Harrison, and as amusing as they are, I don't think I could live with him."

"You get used to him and all his oddities," I replied, "Not much choice in the matter."

Grunting in agreement, Stephen began to meander along the sidewalk. I walked beside him, glad for the understanding company. "Still, I can't imagine why the two are stuck with us. I mean, George and I have been wandering around the country trying to find answers, and have come up with nothing but hunches and failed intuition."

I looked down. "I guess I haven't been all that active in finding an answer for John. I've talked to a professor a few times, and tried to guess what he might need in order to move in, but it's really all been on the side of my college career."

"Don't feel bad," Stephen said, "I regret not trying to do something with my own life. George has encouraged it, trying to put me first, but it was never really his choice as to where we go, and I'd rather have someone else to focus on than solve my own problems." He looked at my face for a moment, then looked away.

We walked in companionable silence for a while, fingers occasionally brushing against each others as if part of a temperamental magnet. Each time let out a blush in my cheeks and an apology on his breath. I was surprised John wasn't making his normal smart response.

Actually, I was surprised John was keeping quiet at all.

I stopped walking and looked around in mild concern. Stephen stopped as well and peered at my face, squinting in the sun. "What is it?" he asked.

Continuing to scan the area, I replied, "I think I may be missing someone..." It felt weird not to see the familiar hooked nose nearby. John was missing, and I was disoriented by the sudden loss of his presence.

Stephen spun around as well, eyes darting around. "George?" he called out timidly. He looked back to me. "Where have they gone?"

"And how?" I added.

Stephen shook his head, still looking for the familiar face. "Maybe they got stuck back where we left them?" He suggested.

I shrugged. "Seems unlikely, but we could check. You don't think they're... free, do you?"

He paused to look into my eyes, then allowed a small smile. "Seems too good to be true, doesn't it?"

The two held hands like brothers entering unfamiliar lands. And their surroundings were unfamiliar. They clearly weren't in the same place, anymore.

"What happened?" John asked, trying not to let his voice shake. The two had been standing in the middle of a college campus one moment, catching up on memories as the young adults they were chained to walked further and further away. Next thing he knew, John had blinked and found himself engulfed in a warm white light, surrounded by what looked like clouds. It was what heaven was always told to be, but it seemed too cliché to accept.

George's calloused hand gently squeezed John's. "Not sure I know." He was gazing around in awe, taking in as much of his surroundings as he could. "But I think it's a good thing."

John relaxed slightly, following George's lead as they walked through clouds and fog that was dimming every second. Faint shapes became clearer in the distance as they walked on, both feeling energized and young once again.

Taking in a breath, George smiled. His vision was better than John's and he could see what lay ahead. "Johnny boy," he said slowly, "We made it, after all."