Guess what guys? IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! I'm officially fourteen years old, as of today. Haha, I know that applies to NOTHING, but I kinda wanted to post this as my birthday present to me :^). So there's a George for you all, and I'm in a good mood, aren't I? Huh, interesting. WELL! Some CRAZY things happening in this chapter. And wanna know something FREAKY? This is actually the first chapter I wrote for Any Time at All. And I based the story off this here. Nifty, huh? Haha, this is the second to last chapter, so happy reading! Here's chapter nineteen.
"PAPA!" I bawled as I burst through the door into his house. I didn't bother knocking, it wouldn't do me any good. If he wasn't here then it didn't matter anyways. "PAPA, PLEASE!"
Robert Ryan bustled out of the kitchen at my voice, hurriedly wiping his hands off on his trousers. He didn't look the least bit surprised to see me. "Ah, A.J., my dear. Is it time?"
I didn't know what the hell this meant in my current state, so instead of answering him, I rushed forward along the hallway and fell into his arms. He stroked my hair, shushing me gently. My tears flowed freely into his sweater, and I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him closer to me. Hoping against all odds that my grandpa would never let me go.
"Papa, I…I n-need to go home!" I stuttered into his chest. He pulled me away from me at an arm's length, examining my tear-stained face carefully.
"A.J., you know I'm not your grandfather." His words stung, and I wished so hard that he would take them all back and fold me into his hug again. It was just so familiar. Everything about him reminded me of home.
"Maybe not. But you will always be my Papa." He gave me a weak smile, the smile that you give someone when they've touched your heart so deeply, so foolishly and irrationally, that you have no idea what to say to them.
He led me into the living room, letting me sink down onto the comfy old couch. He went back into the kitchen, returning with a fresh brewed cup of tea. In my time in Liverpool, I had come to love that stuff. I sipped at it, waiting for it to cool so that I could down the mild substance. This was my usual custom, and George had always teased me so badly for it…. Wow, I was going to miss that boy. He had become my brother, in every way but the literal sense.
"Now tell me, luv, what is it that happened? Why do you think it's time to go back?" he asked me calmly, watching my face intently. I could tell he wasn't gonna let me go back for nothing. I had learned that lesson before.
"I'm in love, Papa. But he will never love me back." I looked at the ground, ashamed at my admission. If I had it my way, nobody would ever find out. But that was unfortunate, seeing as I NEVER got my way. So of course the boys all knew and now Papa. But what was I supposed to do? I was so desperately heart-broken. I could no longer stay here. I HAD to go home, and I hoped that this is what Papa had meant when he said that I would know when the right time was.
The doctor's face scrunched. "And you know this for a fact?" he wanted to know.
I sighed, the tears threatening to come again. "Yes," I answered softly. "I told him. He said…" I took a deep breath. "He said that I was a silly little girl who didn't know love from lust. He told me he was sorry, but I needn't bother him with my silly teenage woes anymore." I looked up at Papa. "I'm NOT a little girl. And I am certainly not silly." I spoke the word with disgust, blaming it for Ringo not loving me back.
He closed his eyes. "You wish to leave this age because of a lost love? You cannot live without him?"
I pondered this. Was my love for Ringo so strong that I couldn't live without him? Was he really my one true love? I thought back upon everything we'd been through, every smile, every laugh. The tears I had unwillingly shed in front of him. Our first and only kiss, that drunken night in the poorly lighted hallway. How he had knocked Chuck unconscious with just one hit to rescue me. The way he bobbed his head to a totally different beat than the one he was playing. How we would often just look at each and burst out laughing, most of the time for no reason at all. How he told me that I couldn't go home, not ever. How he had told me he loved me, though I know he never said that he was IN love with me. How every time he looked at me, I felt lightheaded. How I knew that I would never, ever feel the same about any other person.
"No," I replied shakily, my eyes filling, "I can't live without him. But I will, because he can live without me." It was a wonder that I didn't collapse right then and there. But something inside me, something way, way deep in there, told me now was not the right time.
Doctor Ryan, my papa, nodded slowly. "You are ready, child. Close your eyes. I'll see you in a few decades, A.J."
I took a deep, quivering breath. I slowly began to lower my eyes lids, glancing around me desperately as I did so. They were just about closed when I heard the door smack open, and the sound of pounding footsteps.
"NOOO, A.J., WAIT!" Ringo bellowed from the hallway. My eyes sprang all the way open again, and I leapt off the couch.
"Get OUT of here, Ringo! I don't want you here!" I screamed at him, not caring who on Earth heard.
He looked a bit taken aback, and his mouth dropped open a little bit. "Er…I thought…I thought you-"
"I'm going home." I told him simply. I watched as his face contorted into a million different emotions, finally settling on disbelief.
"But you can't," he finally muttered, his eyes still wide and shining a brilliant robin's egg blue.
"Why not?"
"You…you promised." He spoke as if in church, using such a hushed tone that I had to take a step closer to him to hear what he was saying.
"I don't care. I can't stay here." I glanced everywhere but at his face, not wanting to say what had to be said. I loved him still, no matter how mean I was about to be to him. God, I was turning into John!
"You can't stay here because of me, right? I'm the reason you're going." The last sentence was a statement, as though he were dead sure of it. Strangely enough, this made me sadder than anything else; that he knew what he had done, yet he didn't care about me enough to do something about it.
"Yes." I wasn't going to lie to him. I couldn't lie to him, if that even makes sense at this point.
"Paul finished his song," he whispered, as though trying to hold onto the conversation for just a little while longer, trying to delay the inevitable. "He finished the lyrics right after you told him you we're leaving. It's beautiful."
I wanted to shout a thousand insults in his face at the moment (John's style of dealing with heartbreak), but I swallowed them and let tears well up in my eyes (Maggie Mae's style). "Why is it worth telling me? I'm just a silly little girl, aren't I?"
He closed his eyes, shaking his head tiredly. "No, please don't ever think that. I'm so sorry, A.J."
"That doesn't change anything. Sorry is just a word, and it's as empty and pitiful as you."
He winced openly, but took a small step forward. "You're mean, but that's what I love about you." He smiled a small, hesitant smile.
"Stop saying that! I don't wanna hear it, Rings! You know damn well that that kind of love doesn't mean anything to me at this point!" I shook my head in exasperation, but it didn't throw him off.
No, instead he stepped forward excitedly, filling the gap between us. "That's just it though! I've only just realized it!" Damn it! Why didn't he feel pain like the rest of the people of this God damned Earth? Everything just seemed to…bounce off of him.
"I don't care anymore! Why don't you understand that? I just wanna go-"
That was when he reached out, tipped my head up, and kissed me. A thousand fireworks exploded, clouding my brain and dulling my senses. I was aware of how magical it was though, and I let his arms wrap around me tightly, pressing me into him. He smelled like cinnamon, my favorite flavor of gum or mints.
And then, all too quickly, it was over, and he was pulling away. He held me in his arms, and I was completely paralyzed by the sheer force of his light touch. Still too dizzy to move, I felt him lean down, place a small kiss on my ear, then pull back a bit so that his mouth was hovering just above it.
"I am so very much IN love with you, Anna Jean Rose."
I knew what his words were meant to do. They were meant to make me happy, to make me want to dance around in triumph. But they had the opposite effect. Tears were rolling down my cheeks like nobody's business, and I was too miserable to bother to reach out and wipe them away. That was one hell of a kiss, and I wish he had never done it. It only made me realize how much I couldn't stay, even though every fiber of my being was begging me to leap into his embrace again.
"It's A.J." I whispered, finally gathering the willpower to back away and smear my tears into my skin.
He chuckled softly, but, upon seeing my waterworks, stopped immediately. "What is it…?"
"Don't you see, Rings? It would have been so much easier for me if you had never come here today! Because, no matter what, I will always know one thing; I am from the year 2010, and you live right here, right now. We can never be together."
I backed away from him some more, but he didn't notice; he was too lost in thought to notice anything, I think. I soft moan came from his lips. "Please. Don't do this."
I took another step away, stumbling slightly and falling against the wall. It was probably just as well, because at that moment my legs started wobble and I had to lean against it any way. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I knew my face must be splotchy and red. "I h-h-have to."
"That's not fair though!" he cried, closing a bit of the distance between us. "I love you, God damn it! You can't leave." His words rang in my head, like déjà vu. It wasn't fair. I knew it as well.
And through all of that, all I heard was that he loved me. It sounded so nice, so lyrical, that I allowed myself to take it in for a moment. "Say it again."
"I love you," he murmured immediately. "I love you, I love you. I don't care who knows it." That sent shivers down my spine. By now, my mind was practically changed. I could fall into him, and then I could be with him forever and ever.
The problem was this: I COULD fall into him, and then I COULD be with him forever and ever. But as soon as he had told me he didn't love me (God, it seemed like a zillion years ago) my mind had automatically gone into Best Friend Mode. It's okay, I had told myself, it doesn't matter. Just go back, forget all of this ever happened. You would have had to go back soon anyways, seeing as you can't just stay here forever. Life may still be going on back home, we don't know! Now, if Ringo had loved me THEN, and I had been happy and not had to console myself, things would have been different. I wouldn't have those thoughts in my head; I wouldn't feel so damn guilty.
"I'm sorry…but i-it's too late," I whispered through my tears. My heart broke in a clean half at the look on his face.
"NO, A.J. DON'T!" And that was the last thing I would ever hear of Ringo Starr, Richard Starkey, the love of my life. I slowly closed my eyes, waited a few second longer than the average blink, and reopened them.
Everything was dark in the room. I sat straight up in bed, fumbling for the lamp switch on my nightstand. I finally found it, and the entire room was bathed in light. It took me a moment to adjust, but once I had I started to freak out. What had I done? Could I go back? What about Ringo? What about me?
Taking a deep breath, I tried to look at the situation from a logical point. But my mind had never worked very logically, and I soon found that I was falling back into my mound of pillows, chest heaving with the force of my sobs. This, I thought, was heartbreak, in its truest form. There was a pain where I knew my heart should be, and much the way that particular organ pumped blood through my body, it was now pushing pain and misery into my system. It was crippling.
And through all of this, I finally managed to roll onto my side, glancing at the digital clock (though I have way too much pride to actually admit this, I can barely read analog clocks. But if that ever gets out I'll deny it with everything I have) that was where it had always been in my seventeen years of exsistance. The time on that clock read 1:58 a.m. Thinking back upon my first night with the Beatles, I realized that that was probably around the time that we had left.
It was strange, delightfully strange, but nevertheless strange, that I was able to smile at the simple act of checking the time. But it wasn't the time checking that had really made me smile. No, it was more of the fact that John Lennon had, in the end, kept his promise; I was home before morning.
Guys…do you believe it? My little A.J. is HOME! And it seemed like I was just writing those magical words that transported her into the past… God, this is sad. I don't want to end it! Haha, but I have an ending in mind. It won't make anything better, but it might give us some more closure.
Now I have a question for you all: sequel? Ideas? I've got nothing, so right now I'm thinking no. Tell me what you think.