Later that night after we filled up on pizza, Coke and chips I lay in Paul's small bed and he lays on the floor once again in the sleeping bag because of limited space in his bed.
"Goodnight, Court." Paul bids after he made noise moving around in the mass of blankets he lays in and I rest my head on the pillow.
"Night, Paul." I reply and I turn over and I exhale a sigh before relaxing in the bed and I find sleep soon, but it wasn't anything near comfortable.
The next time my eyes open I'm still in bed, but when I sit up to look at my surroundings I realize I'm in my bedroom back home, no longer in London with the Beatles, in 1963. I jump out of bed and open my door to dash down the winding case of stairs that lead into the living room and I see the tv to be on, but the room is empty as is the amount of sense this is making to me. I travel into the kitchen while my heart continues to beat rapidly and I walk out the back door to find my large backyard covered with autumn leaves that still fall from the trees. I let out a shaky sigh as I feel tears welling in my eyes and I go back inside to find my way back upstairs where I go down the hall and I pass my mothers bedroom where the door is hardly open and I see her sleeping body passed out drunk on the brown, king bed. The one that used to be my parents, not just hers, but that was before they got divorced and when things kept came crashing down in my life. By now the tears are running down my cheeks and I go down to my bedroom to enter it and I look at the calendar on my wall that reads September 20th 2012, the day I traveled back in time to meet Paul and John and the others. But how can this be happening? I remember everything that happened; running into Paul for the first time, telling him about a lot of my life, that nightmare with Robbie, the kisses with Paul, the concerts. When I look to my wrists the bracelets Paul had given me are no longer there, and my hair is long as ever, as if those few inches had never been taken off. I tread over to my bed with my tear blurred vision and I sit on it to cover my face with my hands as I try to process this, whatever it is.
I awake suddenly and I sit up straight and I feel the tears on my cheeks, and as well as that feeling I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to face even more confusion.
"Court, are you okay?" Paul questions as he sits on the edge of my bed in his pajamas as its still dark out the window. "I woke up to hearing you crying and muttering things in your sleep, what's wrong, darling?" he finishes the sentence and he brushes his thumb over my cheek to wipe my tear.
I toss my arms around his ever so real middle and I breathe a sigh of relief against his chest that smells faintly of his cologne and fabric softener. His arms go around me and his cheek falls to rest on my head and I close my eyes while his fingers stroke my hair.
"Sh, you're alright. Whatever is wrong you're okay." he speaks and I realize it must of been some livid dream, what a livid one it at that.
"Did you have a nightmare?" he inquires and I nod into his chest.
"I dreamt I was back home and that none of this had ever happened even though I remembered it, and I was so freaked out." I confess against his soft shirt on his chest and he lightly rubs my arm.
"Ah, well it's not real, Court. It was just a dream that you unfortunately had. You're here, not there, love." he replies and I take in a deep breath as he holds me in his arms.
"I think it's two in the morning, dear. We should be getting back to bed, are you gonna be alright?" he states and I shake my head honestly.
"I know it's squished in this bed with two people, but I'll sleep with you if that'll make you feel better." he suggests and I look up at him.
"Yeah, thanks." I answer him and he nods and kisses my forehead and we both get under the messy covers and I tried not to be all that close to him in fear it'd be awkward just like this relationship is currently, but the bed isn't that big so we were close to being in the others arms, he didn't seem to mind. I admit I didn't either, but I couldn't fall back asleep for another two hours, afraid that when I'd fall back asleep that somehow the same dream would reoccur and be true.
The next time I wake up I'm relieved to find myself laying next to Paul as his hazel eyes are set on me with sleep pulling at the corners of them, and he blinks hard to try and wake up. I smile at him and he returns it and tucks a lock of my hair behind in my ear. I sigh and glance to the clock across the room thats time is nearing nine thirty, and I turn back to Paul who looks like he doesn't want to get out bed.
"Morning." he greets me and I yawn and I laugh which he joins me in.
"Good morning to you too." I reply and he stretches his arms towards the window somewhat behind his bed and I close my eyes.
"Did ya sleep good?" he questions and I shrug my shoulders in answer.
"Did you?" I ask him the same thing.
"Yeah, I suppose." he responds and I hear his big yawn.
"What are your plans for today?" I question as my eyes stay shut and I move my limbs to stretch a bit.
"Mm, we have to go into the studio pretty soon and we won't be done until probably five, but with breaks throughout. Do you wanna come along?" he questions and I suddenly remember their rule about no girls or hardly anybody in the studio with them.
"No thanks." I reply and I open my eyes to face his confused pair.
"Why not?" he questions with a look that reads almost hurt.
"I don't want to step in on anything." I reply and the look fades from his flawless features.
"Well what're you going to do all day home alone? I don't think leaving you here by yourself is all that good of an idea." he states.
"What, you don't trust me? Have a little faith in me now." I reply with a smile playing on my lips and he grins slightly.
He moves over to cradle my cheek and his lips meet mine in a whisper of a kiss that was still as meaningful and wonderful as a long one, and he pulls away to refocus on my eyes.
"I do trust you, and love, it's not that I don't have faith in you, because I do. I'd just honestly feel better if you came along to the studios." he remarks seriously and I nod my head, I've always wanted to check out Abbey Road Studios.
"Good, it'll be fun if you come along." Paul comments while he stretches his arms above his head again and we decide to get out of bed to have breakfast and for us all to get ready to leave around quarter after ten.
I had just finished getting ready in the bathroom and was on my way to the kitchen to have something to drink when I heard a knock at the door, and nobody else came to answer it so I did. I was surprised to find Robbie standing on the doorstep with his hands hidden in his leather jacket pockets and I can't muster any words to leave my mouth.
"Court, who is it?" Paul calls from the kitchen table and I don't answer so he gets up to walk over to me.
I see Paul's eyes fall on him and an angered look washes over his face.
"I came to apologize for what happened the other day at the diner. I had gotten drunk the night before and I still wasn't thinking all too right. I'm sorry, Courtney." Robbie is the first one to speak and I peek at Paul to see him standing pretty close to me.
"Court, close the door." Paul just about orders in a low voice and I shake my head.
"Yeah, thanks, Robbie." I reply uneasily and Paul looks to me with a confused and maybe mad look.
"You're welcome, Courtney." Robbie replies and I see Paul roll his eyes not so secretly next to me.
Paul slams the door and walks back into the kitchen without saying a word and I follow him.
"What was that about?" I question and he turns on his heel to face me.
"You're honestly going to accept his apology?" he questions and I shrug.
"Well what else am I supposed to do? We might still work together, Paul." I answer him and he huffs.
"He hurt you, and hell I don't believe his sap story for one minute about having some hangover that day, or let alone his apology. He's not safe, you know."
"I know that, but it's not like i'm forgiving him right away. What's the big deal?" I inquire and he goes back over to the table to grab his dirty plate and he brings it over to the sink.
"Just forget it." he retorts.
"No, please tell me." I reply and before he can answer or for me to add on anymore to the topic of discussion John interrupts us to tell us it's time to leave, and so we leave it at that.
Paul and I didn't speak to each other on the ride over to the studios after us having that little spat or whatever the appropiate word for it would be. I sensed a tense almost atmosphere between us while he stared out the window, occasionally biting his nails. Once we arrived there at the iconic Abbey Road recording studios that's hardly a corner away from the famous crosswalk where the well known cover of their album named after the studios would happen in six years. They gave small waves and casual greetings to people we passed on the way to the certain studio where who i recognize to be George Martin sits patiently in the control room. I got introduced to him briefly before tagging along with them down the long staircase. I wandered a bit as they chatted amongst themselves while fiddling with their instruments, and i found a chair to sit in away from their tight circle.
"Hey there." Paul states as he stands in front of me with his brown bass strapped over his shoulder.
"Hi." I reply quietly after raising my eyes from my floral shirt to meet his eyes.
He drags a chair over to me to sit and a short silence falls over us.
"I'm sorry about earlier. The thing is that i wasn't happy about Robbie showing up, and frankly i didn't see an ounce of truth in his words." Paul apologizes while i listen to his soft voice.
"It's okay, I'm sorry too." I apologize to him and he nods his head.
"It's okay, love. I just don't want Robbie hurting you again, you know." he comments.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't want that either." I agree with him and he shoots me a smile that I return and he stands up to lean over and kiss my cheek which I grin at and he winks at me before walking back over to his mates.
I sigh and glance around the room that's plentiful of space, and i look to the brown piano, Ringo's drum set and John's acoustic that he holds. I'm really about to watch the Beatles record, basically i'm getting a little private concert. I'm just living the life, so to say, huh? I wonder how long this will last, i surely can't stay stuck here in a time i don't in one bit belong in, or can i?
AN: I'd love to hear your thoughts on this part! I'm not sure when my next part for this fic will be, I hope you'll stay patient with me and that you understand.