Alright, so I KNOW that I said that I wanted this to be a Paulie chapter, and I swear Paul is going it be in here, but…I have ideas SPEWING out of my head, and I desperately need to write them down. So for now, this is going to be a chapter including ALL of them. Pretty equally, I'd say. I wanted to make it just Paul, but then I thought of something good for George, and I thought, sure, why can't he be in here a little bit, too? But after last chapter, I needed to have Ringo in THIS chapter, because I can't just leave you hanging on that front. But THEN there was some stuff that I needed to cover about John, and I honestly think it can't wait. So the result? One long, long chapter with EACH of them. And sure, I know that isn't the best writing technique, and I should just push off the George-ness or John-ness or Paul-ness…not the Ringo-ness, though. That has to be here. But I don't want to try and figure this out anymore. What I want is to just deliver this update to you all and hope you like it! So, without further ado, this is chapter twelve! (Oh, my damn! Is it really?)

It all came back to me in a dream.

In said dream, I was flying through the sky, a girl with long, blonde hair clutching my palm. I never saw her face, but I knew she was Lucy, for diamonds twinkled brilliantly around us. Then those beautiful diamonds turned to cigarette embers, falling down to Earth. I fell with them. I landed on a cloud, rainbows dancing in front of my eyes. Ringo, John, and Paul laughed and danced in front of me. I briefly wondered where George was, and when I tried to call out to the three, my voice emanated in a long giggle. We all stopped suddenly, though John kept dancing. I saw a gun out of the corner of my eye, floating down a rainbow towards the prancing John. My face fell, and I started to yell and scream, but my laughter just increased. I looked to Paul and Ringo, but they were not looking at each other, each mad and rooting the gun on. A loud shot rang out, and then John stopped his merriment. With a look of utter shock upon his eyes, he began to fall. Another shot fired-

BAM! I sat up straight in my little bed, only to find that the book I had been read had slipped off my chest, its hard cover slapping to the ground. I ran a hand through my bed-mangled hair, a cold sweat sheening on my face. I couldn't believe that I had forgotten about the sole reason I wanted to come here in the first place!

I rolled out of bed, marching into the shower without noting the time of day. By the time I was clean and dressed and ready for the day, all the boys were sitting in the kitchen. John had his eyes closed and was sipping on coffee, Paul was buried behind the paper, and George and Ringo were fighting over a doughnut. I cleared my throat the moment I walked in.

"Morning boys!" I squeaked tightly, the sight of them causing my heart to flutter. I had been here for little over a month, and I STILL hadn't addressed all the important matters I wanted to in detail!

None of them looked at me, but all muttered in unison, "Morning."

I strode into the middle of the kitchen, deliberating, and tried to decided how best to do this. "I'm going to make breakfast," I announced suddenly.

George looked up at me, gesturing to his claimed doughnut. "But I-"

"I am making fucking breakfast and you will like it!"

Whoa. Um…yeah. Paul peeked around his paper, frowning. George set the doughnut down meekly, only to have it gobbled up by Ringo. John opened one eye amusedly. "Well, it looks like someone's gotten their monthly gift," he commented, making the other three giggle.

I rolled my eyes, turning around and pulling out a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. "Shut up, John. I just feel like making breakfast, that's all."

I could basically feel them all exchanging looks, but then I heard the clink off the coffee mug and the rustle of the newspaper, so I figured they had gone back to their business. Then Ringo started talking.

What I am about to admit is highly personal, so personal the only person I will admit it to is My Thoughts, which BARELY counts. Okay…I maybe might have an itsy bitsy teeny weeny crush on Ringo. And I don't even know for sure if it's just gratitude towards him for saving me two nights ago or if it's genuine. All's I know is that every time he speaks, my heart starts pumping faster. And every time he touches me, it nearly stops altogether. Or how I feel like everything has changed between us. Like every single move he makes, my mind is deciphering it and trying analyzing it. Just thinking about him…oh, God! What the hell is going on here?

"So, Miss A.J., is this how you're going to repay me for the other night?"

I swallowed roughly, trying to breathe normally. This counted as sexual harassment, didn't it? I could always make some witty comeback based on that. But no, now it was too late because I was thinking about it WAY too much. In the end, the only word I could manage was, "No."

"Oh," he said quickly, eager to tease me. "So you plan to do it in some other way…?"

Holy shit! I scrambled the eggs, trying to convince myself that his voice did NOT sound sexy at all. On the contrary, he sounded just like the old Ringo. The old sweet, funny, pretty-blue-eyed Ringo…. Snap out of it, girl! "What are you implying?"

That was good, wasn't it? That sounded A.J.-ish enough, right? I walked a few steps, popping toast in the toaster and trying to keep my back turned as much as possible so that none of them could see the fiery blush that was currently covering my face. This was the simplest form of hell, it really was.

"Oh, luv, I think you know."

I had no idea what to say to that. Luckily, George unknowingly saved me from having to speak. "Oh, leave the girl alone. It's not her fault that she is unable to move two feet without getting into trouble." And, as if to prove his point, I turned around at that exact moment, carrying a glass of orange juice. The moment I saw that I was the object of Ringo's eying, I faltered, stumbling over nothing and making the juice go flying all over John.

He lifted his head to glare at me. "Thanks. That was JUST what I needed." I widened my eyes, for once fearful of the wrath of John Lennon. But I guess he didn't think terrorizing me without me putting up a front was any fun, because he simply shook his head and lowered it once more to the back of the chair.

Ringo and George snickered at me. I shot George a patronizing look (only because I couldn't manage to look at Ringo directly without having a minor heart attack) and turned back around to pour another glass of juice.

George and Ringo chatted happily, Paul even joining in once or twice, while I finished up breakfast. I was too scared to go near John and clean up my spill, so he remained a sticky, orangey smelling mess. Not that he especially seemed to care.

"So," I began once I was sitting down and all five of us had plates in front of us. "I've been meaning to talk to you guys about something."

Paul nodded and smiled. "Ahh, I figured there was an ulterior motive to this 'breakfast'." Air quotes and all.

The other three simply gazed at me. I had no idea how to begin my little speech, only knowing that what I would say was ringing in my ears. I decided to address them individually first. "John."

He looked up at me, his mouth full of eggs and toast. I waited for him to chew and swallow, and I could feel the other boys' eyes on me. Oh, man. I should probably have saved his for last, because once I started talking he was sure to get into Sassy Pants Mode, and then the others would be laughing and I wouldn't be able to talk. Maybe I should just not tell them at all…I mean, I was going to set the course of history off and all….

NO! They all had to know, they all had to be saved. Maybe they would trust me more now that they had been living with me for a while…. Who the hell knew. I might as well just get it out there.

"Yes?" John responded, glancing quickly at Paul before looking back at me. They obviously didn't expect what was coming. That was going to make it all the more harder to say.

"Remember when we first met, and you asked me about your future and…I told you?"

I watched as his expression turned from light to dark within seconds. It was truly frightening, and I subconsciously leaned my head away from him. This was going to be worse than I thought.

"Yes," he replied, simple and gruff.

I nodded slowly. "Riiight." No matter how much I kept putting it off, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was what I was meant to do, the whole reason I had been set to this time period anyways. "So here's the thing."

He looked me square in the eye, daring me to insult him or tell him I wanted him dead or something. Which I would NEVER do, because…well, I'm just not that horrible. "What." It wasn't a question, and the way he just deadpanned it back to me was scary. But I knew he could get WAAY scarier.

"I want to save you," I blurted. This made all the other Beatles (who had been staring at me, trying to decipher how this applied to ANYTHING at all) jaws drop.

"You," George said, pointing at me, "want to save him? John? John Lennon?" He pointed at John.

"No, George. I want to save Paul. That's why I've been addressing him directly and asking him to remember when I was back home and told him he was going to die!"

The guys stared at me, and once again I blushed. "Sorry," I quickly mumbled at my hurt brother, moving on quickly. "I have a lot to cover, so let's get straight to this: on the 8th of December, in 1980, a man named Mark Chapman is going to ask you for your autograph earlier in the day when you leave the recording studio. This man is insane." I looked at him, waiting for his face to clear and for him to decide on an emotion. When he finally settled for serious and gave a slight nod of his head, I continued. "Later that day, when you are going home, he will appear again, and he will shoot you. You will die of blood loss in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Do you understand?"

John swallowed roughly, his eyes wide. The other boys around me were looking at him, all worried and with eyes wide. Maybe I had been a bit too forward with him…

"Well, at least it's this Chapman fellow, and not Ringo. And here's me thinking this little lad is going to do me in," he attempted to joke. No one laughed. I ignored the flutter in my chest at the sound of Ringo's name.

"C'mon, John! Don't you see? I can help you! I don't know what good it'll do, but I just always wished I had this chance, this one chance, to save your life!" I stared at him, the raw emotion coming out in my voice. Could he tell that I was beginning to love him as much as I loved the other? I hoped not.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Maybe I don't want your help."

I couldn't believe it. Never in a million years did I think THAT would be what he would say. I mean, come ON! I was talking life, or DEATH here! "I don't fucking care if you don't want it, you need it!"

He continued to glare at me through those beady little eyes. "I don't believe that you want to help me."

"No?" I asked shrilly. "Well, then, swallow your God damned pride for just a SECOND and realize that this isn't all about you!"

He shook his head in disgust. "What other things could happen besides me being SHOT to death? Huh? Tell me that, Ms. Ever-Knowing Oracle."

Now he had tipped me over the edge. I stood up suddenly, knocking down my orange juice AGAIN, though nobody seemed to notice. "Fuck you, John! You act like it's all you, but it isn't!" I turned pointing to George but still killing John with my eyes. "George is going to DIE of fucking CANCER if he doesn't PUT DOWN THAT CIGARETTE THIS VERY SECOND!" George blushed, looking guilty, and immediately snubbed his ciggy. "And you better keep it that way, or else you know what's going to happen."

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees at my words, and Paul and Ringo looked up at me with fearful eyes. John's were still fiery, as though asking for more. So I gave him more. "Paul? Yeah, he'll find what I'm PRETTY sure is the love of his life, and then she'll DIE of breast cancer. And after that? Oh, well, dear Paulie will plague himself with the worst line women yet seen!" I looked at him. "Be careful with your money, dude." Then I returned to John. "And that's LOOONG after YOU bite the dust, so tell me how that pertains to YOU!"

He frowned, opening his mouth to say something. "And Ringo!" I could barely speak his name without shivers running down my spine. What I said about him wasn't major, but it was still enough to break my heart to mention. Don't get me wrong, everything had been pretty painful, but you just don't want to admit things bad thing about the boy you have a very minor crush on. And besides, I couldn't look at Ringo at all, but I would assume that he was scared to death. "Ringo will be a pig, just like you John, with his wife, who will try to KILL HERSELF because of the divorce he puts her through. Though, I can't say that he is much better than GEORGE," I turned to look at the boy closest to my age, his poor face breaking my heart. I didn't want to say most of the things I was saying, but they HAD to come out sooner or later. "As our Georgie Boy here with fuck Ringo's wife, and God knows how many other girls while he is still married."

And now, that brought me onto a whole NEW rant. No one could stop me now, not even me. "And speaking of, do I even need to MENTION all the fucking groupies that will swarm around you? Oh, you like that don't you John," I hissed, catching John's exchanged smirk with Paul. "You just LOVE cheating on your wife, excuse me, WIVES countless times, never apologizing, never saying a word. Why, I'm sorry, John. Did I just imply that only YOU do it? Oh, heavens no! IT'S ALL OF YOU!"

I took a step back from the table, running my hands agitatedly through my curls. I was becoming a monster, and I didn't know how to stop me. "And that brings me to my last subject. Something I know for a FACT all of you did. Drugs. And pot, okay, whatever. That won't completely demolish you. But I'm talking fucking acid…you know, I don't even know! Can you believe it, but at one time I didn't want to believe it of you guys! I thought, nah, drugs are terrible, they wouldn't. But you did. You fucking did."

I took another step away from them, knocking into the sink. All four of them were staring at me with the worst expressions. They ranged from scared (Ringo), pissed off (George), blank (Paul), and AMUSED (who do you fucking think?)

"WHAT is funny, John?"

He looked back at me, his face not entirely cold, just…I don't know the word for it. Bitter, maybe. Bitter disappointment mixed in with amusement, with a dash of misery. "It's funny," he began, his voice starting light and humorous, but starting to grow angrier, "because I THOUGHT that you liked us. We liked you well enough. And, call me crazy, but ranting for ten minutes about the horrible things that we've done…you just don't do that to people you like. So tell me, A.J.," he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his palms, "what are you really thinking."

I wanted to smack him. I wanted to smack him SO much, I can't even put it into words. And to restrain myself from this smacking, I ran. Right out the door, into the rain, down the street. As far and as fast as my legs would take me. Through the traffic on the street, I couldn't hear the voice calling for me to stop.

"ANNA!" the voice bellowed. Oh, no whoever that was didn't! I wheeled around, ready to have an extreme bitch fit. That's about the time I realized it was Paul.

I froze, wondering why he was following me, and sub-consciously waited for him to catch up. He grinned, upping his jog a little bit, and saying once he was within proper ear-shot, "Oh, I knew that one would get your attention."

I re-gathered myself, then turned around and started back at a brisk pace, hoping he wouldn't match his stride, but at the same time wishing he would. He did.

"So, that was quite something back there, wasn't it?"

He said this as though it was just a mere mention in a casual conversation that we might be having on a light walk through the rain. Bitch please. Like he didn't know exactly what John was probably back at the house saying about me, swearing his head off. No one would defend me, either, because they would either be busy wallowing in self-pity or just as pissed as he was. I would have categorize Paul under 'wallowing in self-pity', but he seemed rather jolly. I sorta wanted to put in his place.

"Paul. I just told John and George how they were going to die, then basically called you all drugged-out cheating losers. I'd say it was a bit more than 'something'." I said this in a straight monotone, staring straight ahead the entire time. But there was just something in my words, something so serious it was almost funny, that made me look at Paul out of the corner of my eye, only to find he was peeking to. Then both pairs of peepers shot forward, and it was silent for a moment before he snorted, and we both burst out laughing. It was the kind of laughter that you don't wanna laugh, and you have no idea WHY you're laughing, but you just can't seem to stop.

"Ha. Oh, what are we gonna do with you, Ms. A.J.?" Paul asked, his tone light and bouncy. I wondered how he could be anywhere near to light and bouncy right now, but I thought it might be overkill to ask.

"Send me back home." This crushed his spirit, I could tell right away.

"Aw, come on now. Are we really that horrible?" He punched my shoulder playfully, but it just came off as a bit too desperate. His arm dropped to his side with a slap.

"No." I looked forward again, trying not to make eye contact. "But I am." I cleared my throat hastily. I didn't want him to deny it, because it was true as anything. And even though I KNEW that what I said earlier was necessary (only it wasn't so necessary to scream about everything), I still felt horrible. BEYOND horrible, even. I felt like the bitch that I knew that I was. The bitch that nobody ever loves in the end. Was I the bad guy? Yes, if we made some movie, I would DEFINITELY be the bad guy, and john would be the funny one everyone secretly adores, and Paul would be the hot one everybody is in love with, and George would be the quiet one who in then end is not so quiet, and Ringo would be the goofy one who in the end realizes that the bad guy is in love with him. But, oh, no! He doesn't love her back because she's a bitch and NO one loves a bitch! And then some tall, beautiful blonde with long, tan legs and flowing blonde hair swoops in and she's all nice and sweet and absolutely perfect for Ringo. And then he runs off with said perfect blonde and leaves the bitch in misery and hell. But no one cares, because she's the bad guy. And the bad guy NEVER wins.

Oh, except I'm not in love with Ringo.

Mmmmm…Ringo.

"But that's what we love about you." He smiled gently, wrapping a comforting (and very wet) arm around my shoulders.

"No one loves me." God, since when did I turn so emo? That was something I would expect out of…I dunno…an emo kid. Ugh, I needed to become more imaginative, too.

Paul disregarded this comment. "You're funny like that, you know?" He laughed distantly, looking out over me at the high in the sky sun. Maybe that's what I needed to get myself out of this horrible feeling-ness. To get high. Wait…WHAT WAS I SAYING? Oh, my God. Too much time in the 60's is NOT good for your health.

"No, I don't know." I looked at the ground, subconsciously leaning into him.

"Well, you happen to brighten everyone's day when you fight with John. Sometimes. And the way you keep all the nasty fans away, that's REALLY great!" He squeezed me into him.

I stopped dead in my tracks, tired of this nonsense. "Paul, stop trying to make me feel better." I stared directly up into his eyes. "It was wrong of me to say those things."

"Okay," he said simply, keeping his arm in place and continuing to walk, therefore dragging me along with him.

I sighed, leaning my head on his shoulder. This made it awkward to walk, and from an outsiders view, we probably looked riDONKulous, but hell if cared right now.

"Hey, if I ask you a question will you freak out at me and start yelling again?" He looked down at me, but I kept my gaze trained on our feet. I knew that if I looked away I would trip. Just because it was me, and all.

"Probably."

"Okay." He looked away once more, but only for a second. Then he looked back at me. "So."

Ugh, he was going to ask anyway. I reluctantly picked my head up, glancing at him and saying, "Shoot."

"How long have you felt like that about Ringo?" he asked immediately. And I have to admit, I sorta felt like yelling again. Sorta.

"Psh, what are you TALKING about?" I rolled my eyes, but my heart was already beating faster, and the redness of my cheeks probably already gave me away. Damned Irish blood.

"I'm TALKING about the color you turn when his name is even MENTIONED, and how you act all differently around him, and the fact that I can practically SEE your pulse right now." He reached over, pressing his index and middle finger to the top of my throat, right under my ear and under the corner of my jaw. He nodded when he felt the roaring beat. His eyebrows raised triumphantly.

I stared up at him, my mouth dropping open. This was devastating news. "It's…it's THAT obvious?"

He chuckled, tightening his hold on me. "Nah, I'm just the only one whoever pays attention in that damned house." He smiled widely. "I won't tell the lads."

I swallowed roughly. They would figure it out soon enough if I kept up the way I was going. "It's only a tiny crush! No big deal. And I swear, it'll go away in a week or two. It's just 'cause he saved me and all."

Paul nodded. "Suuuuuuure."

"No really!"

"Yup."

"LISTEN TO ME!"

"I am."

"James Paul McCartney!"

"Yes?"

"UGH!"

He smiled, and I couldn't hold my grin back any longer. I smacked his chest for making me laugh when I didn't want to. He grabbed my hand, holding it in his, and pulled me out in front of him.

"You know, you really can trust me." His face was suddenly serious, his tone more mature. "I won't tell Rings."

I beamed at him. It was all I wanted to hear. And if I had it my way, Paul was the only one who would ever know. And then when it died down, I'd tell Ringo and we'd have a bit of a laugh over it. No big deal or anything. "Thank you. Really. But…but why would you do that?"

"Because other than the boys (and they barely even count) you're my best friend." He reached down, pushing a piece of hair out of my eyes. "And I love you." Then he ducked his head shyly.

And I love you. That rang in my head, over and over and over. And I love you. "And I love her," I whispered, but he didn't hear me. Was I the inspiration for that song? That, actually, was just about my favorite Paul-song (probably) and…wow. It was most likely NOT about me, seeing as he didn't know me when he wrote it but- oh, wait, that was BEFORE they all kidnapped me and brought me here. I wondered how much I was effecting the future by now.

"Aw, Paulie!" I stretched up onto my tip-toes, throwing my arms around his neck. It was a miracle that I didn't have any sort of feeling for him. I mean, he had just said some of the nicest things ANYBODY had ever said, and he was OH so cute, and…okay, he was charming as hell. But putting him into the little fantasies I had made up in my head involving Ringo was quite revolting. No offense to him or anything. "I love you, too," I murmured in his ear. On the way back down, I pecked his cheek. Just like I did to my guy friends back home.

And then I knew, without really knowing, that Paul McCartney would never be the same to me again. Every time I looked at him, I would know that he was the only one who knew my secret. That he was keeping it safe in his mind. And I trusted him, oh, God, did I trust him.

And that was how Paul McCartney became the best friend that I ever had.

FINALLY! IT'S DONE! This is, officially, the longest thing I've ever put into fanfiction. And that's sad, really, because it's not actually that long. I just think it is because my eyes are literally CLOSING. UGH! Anyways, happy summer guys! I know that I am officially out for the summer, and I am feeling go-od! So drop me a review, tell me what you think, you know the drill. Thanks soooo much for reading, guys! It brightens my day (okay, early morning, but whatever) to write this right now, and to know that soon actual people (my mom doesn't count) will be reading this! Now what are you waiting for? REVIEW, I SAY!