I really, really shouldn't be writing this right now. I can think of a MILLION other things that I really should be doing, and this isn't one of them. But I can't help it! No, seriously, my computer has been STARING at me for, what?, like ten days? And okay, that is NOT a lot…not at ALL. But I don't know what to do besides start another chapter. I literally CAN NOT sleep. Yes, it has really been that bad. I had every intention of updating my other stories in my time off, but I found that I hate them all and think they're stupid (okay, I don't really thing that, but my Beatles section of my mind was telling me that). I tried, I really, really did, but I couldn't stay away…haha, doesn't that sound like it should be a line for Twilight or something? Or is it…?

Anyways, I'm getting VERY off-subject here, I would like to tell you that *gasp* I think A.J. is developing a crush. Actually, I really don't know if that'll start to show in this chapter, but I want it to. We'll just see where my fingers take us, shall we (okay, pervs, stop laughing!)? I really shouldn't be saying anything, because I was snickering even as I thought it)? Okay, without further ado, chapter five!

Ugh, I don't want to be up! But, if I HAVE to…God I hate waking up. Now I have to go take a shower, eat, get ready for school…. What the hell? Why do I have to do this? Why can't I just forget about it all for one day…?

I slowly pried my still heavy eyes open, blinking warily and rolling onto my back. That was when I realized that I was NOT in my own bed.

I bolted straight up, glancing around me and instinctively pulling the covers up around me at the sudden rush of cold. The door and curtains were closed, and the room was still dark. I had absolutely no idea where I was. Maybe I was still dreaming…? Then it all came back to me. The Beatles, going back in time, the Cavern Club, Liverpool. But how had I ended up here, in this mystery bed? The last thing I remember was standing in that back room…with George steadying me as I swayed with tiredness…and then Paul picking me up…and then- OH, MY GOD I FELL ASLEEP IN FREAKING PAUL MCCARTNEY'S ARMS!!!

I ran my hands over my face, sure that is was five shades darker red than usual. How had I not preserved that perfectly in my memory? That was one memory I wanted to keep forever and ever, even though this was all probably just a hallucination and not really happening.

That brought me right back here, lying in someone else's sheets and someone else's bedroom. I took a deep, shaky breath, still a little bit asleep, and tried to gather my thoughts. Should I just bust out of here, or should I sneak out? Either way, I had to leave where ever I was and find Doctor Robert so that I could get home. Making up my mind, I crawled out of bed and tip-toed to the door. I eased it open just a crack, then put my ear to it.

Outside, I could hear a bunch of voices, though I couldn't be sure how many people there were since they were all talking over each other.

"I say we take her with us! That'll keep some of the girls away, won't it?" More clashing of voices, then:

"Nah, we can't. If we take her and even MORE people see her with us, they're bound to get suspicious. I mean, you should have seen the number of looks we were getting with the stunt Paulie pulled last night."

"How did you except her to get back? She was asleep where she stood! And who did you think was going to be a gentleman there, eh? Not Georgie, his arms are almost as skinny as hers!"

I smirked a little bit, thinking about young, thin, handsome George Harrison, and how at this age he was rather scrawny. But in his defense, he was just a teenager. He still had a bit of growing to do.

"Shut it, Macca! I could carry her where ever I wanted!"

"Stop! We need to figure this out! What are we gonna do with her today? After all, John did promise her that she would be home this morning…."

"Ah, John, you and your promises that you can't keep."

"SHUT UP!"

I heard a scurrying of footsteps, some low chuckling, and then voices getting closer. I dove back into bed, tugging the covers as far up as they would go. The door opened all the way, and I was suddenly aware of the presence of two new people.

"You reckon she's still sleeping, Rings?" John whispered, and I felt the end of the bed creak. I was always horrible at fake-sleeping, because as soon as a person started staring at me, I would be fighting a smile and they would know I was awake. I hid my face in my pillow before this could happen.

"Probably. She was up late for a little thing." It was quiet for a moment, and I realized they were most likely staring at me. I was SO uncomfortable, and I badly wanted to move, but I didn't want to let them know that I was faking.

I heard a light sigh from somewhere near where I thought John was. "She's pretty, though. Hard headed and bitter, but I've never seen a bird the likes of her. You know, she kinda looks like-"

He stopped abruptly. I wondered if Ringo thought that he was about to mention Jeanie like I thought he was, but I guess I wouldn't know unless I looked up into his eyes. He really did have some gorgeous eyes.

"Richie?" John's voice was suddenly soft, and it made my stomach give an uneasy turn. I was sort of afraid of what he might say next, as it was probably something I really didn't want to hear.

"Mmm?"

"How do you think it happens?" His tone was layered with sudden anguish, and I was surprised to hear it. It wasn't that I thought John incapable of human emotion, it was just that I never thought he would let other people see it. Any emotion, of course, besides anger. That he was quiet good at. Maybe the Beatles were much closer than I thought. I knew that everyone said they were like brothers, but were they really like together? You know, the people that nobody ever got to see. I imagine they would be quite different once they were away from the media and even their band mates.

"How do I think what happens?" Ringo sounded hesitant, as though he knew exactly what John was asking him but he didn't want to answer him.

"How do you think I die?" The words were spoken with such simple complexity that I couldn't believe they had come out of John Lennon's mouth. Wasn't he a man of love, peace, and life? Would I ever get to see the true interworkings of the musical icon's mind? Did I want to?

Ringo breathed out sharply, the force of what John said hitting him as powerfully as it hit me. "God, I don't know mate. After all, it's a long ways away. You gotta lot of life to live til then."

I felt John shake his head. "Not really. I'll only be forty. I feel like…I feel like I have a time limit, you know? That I gotta do a certain amount of things before it runs up. I hate feeling like that."

Ringo was quiet. I made absolutely sure that my breathing was steady, though my heart was racing and beating at irregular intervals. I couldn't believe I had caused him so much pain! I was such a bitch!

"Ask her how it happens," Ringo suggested. His voice was weak, saddened, and it sounded like it had took a lot of effort to get that much out at the same time. What had I done?!

"I…I can't."

That surprised me. Why couldn't he? I mean, I would tell him. As much as I knew I shouldn't, I still would. Apparently, Ringo was thinking along the same lines as me. "I don't see why not."

I wanted so badly to open my eyes and look at John, if only to see that I wasn't as cruel as I was thinking right then. But I knew that if I did, I would just be disappointed. "She doesn't like me very much, if you haven't noticed."

Ringo chuckled a little bit. "I don't blame her! You were a bloody ass to her!"

There was a deadly silence from John, and I was scared for Ringo for a second. Then he sighed. "Yeah, yeah. But she had it coming! If she wasn't so…so cynical and stubborn, then maybe she would get along with people…."

I could practically hear Ringo roll his eyes. "Please, John. She's the female version of you."

"What? No!"

Ringo laughed again. "You know what I think?"

"No, and I don't care."

"I think that you have a crush on her." I smiled into my pillow at Ringo's teasing tone. That would be hilariously impossible. John and me? HA! We'd kill each other!

"No," John insisted. "I really never thought of her that way. Even thinking about it…ugh! It's like…it's like she's some distant relative or something; I can think she's as pretty as I want, but thinking about BEING with her…that makes me want to throw up a little bit." And just like that, my smile had vanished. Throw up a little bit? Really? Was that really necessary?

"Sure," Ringo sang, "sure, I believe you."

"No, I'm serious, I don't." John sounded a little testy.

"Okay."

"I don't."

"Okay."

"I DON'T."

"Okay."

"I DON'T!!!"

"Okay."

"I DON'T!!!"

This was the point where I figured any normal human being would have woken up. And God! It felt so good to move out of the position I was in. I rolled over onto my back, slowly re-opening my eyes. I faked a yawn, stretching my arms over my head, then sat up, tucking the covers around my front. John was still perched on the end of my bed, but Ringo was standing on the other side, his arms crossed. Light was now flooding in through the open door, but I didn't take the time to look around the room.

"What the HELL?"

John and Ringo looked at each other, then looked back at me. "Er, good morning to you, too."

"Well?" When John didn't say anything, I decided to make the situation even more uncomfortable then it already was. "What don't you?"

John immediately blushed scarlet, leaping from the bed and backtracking towards the door. "Uh, I was, um, talking to Richie about, you know, something…and, uh, I…gotta go…do something with, uhhh, Paul, I guess." And then he was gone.

Ringo looked at me at the exact same time I looked at him, and we burst out laughing. He probably knew that I wasn't sleeping the entire time, or at least for the last part, but I recounted what I had realized last night about him; you just didn't need to say everything. The best things seemed to go unsaid. I felt a dull heat in my cheeks, and I glanced down at the bed. When I looked back up, he was still looking at me, the ghost of his smile still etched on his face, his eyes distant.

I cleared my throat casually, sliding out of bed and looking down at myself for the first time all morning. I was still wearing the sleeveless red blouse (who even says blouse anymore?), and the short leather skirt was pulled up a little too far. I blushed a little bit, straightening out and hoping Ringo didn't see, before I started looking around for a mirror. There was one right across the room, and I looked into it to see that my light brown curls were tangled in a mess. I strode over to the dresser, spotting a rubber band, and pulled my ringlets up into a messy bun on the top of my head. Then I looked back at Ringo, my stomach rumbling.

He snapped to attention, his eyes refocusing on me, and his smiled zipped back to life. "You want something to eat?" he asked, already heading for the door. I grinned gratefully.

"I thought you'd never ask."

This chapter took me five days to write, from start to finish. Usually I can do one in one sitting, but I had the week from hell and that was nearly impossible. I know it's not the best, but hopefully it cleared up some of what John's feeling. Next chapter, I think, is going to be about George. I really miss him, don't you? There can never be enough George to go around, and I'm SO sorry if you feel that my story has been lacking that certain element. I've always been a Paul girl, and recently I read a story that made me want to know all about George, because I feel out of all of them he gets the least recognition. Google him up, I'm telling you, you'll be surprised. And now that I'm done advertising George Harrison, I will be shutting up and leaving you for this time with one last request: REVIEW!!!!!