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Chapter Eight

Bang!  Bang!  "George!  Please...it's me!" 

His door immediately opened and her boyfriend ushered her.  She slumped in his hallway, dropping her bag on the floor.  "God, damn them!  I hate them!"

"What's wrong?" George asked her.  He helped her up, and she gladly accepted his embrace.  George helped her breathe easier, and think more clearly.  There was just something about him; just by knowing that he was near helped Layla relax.  Sniffling into his shoulder, she said, more angry than sad, "They sold my guitar!  Anna went through my room with her friends and they tore up my pictures and drawings!  I was so mad that I threw away all of her make-up and scratched her vinyl and ran away..."

George kissed her forehead, which was damp from the rain.  Layla rarely cried, but her family had been worse than usual lately.  "Shh...it's alright.  I'm here.  Let's get you off to bed.  You'll stay here with me as long as you'd like."  

Layla looked up at him, the tears gone from her eyes.  "Is...is that an invitation for...forever?"  

"Always."

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Paul meant to pick up his girlfriend for a date, but ended up being grounded for staying out late with John past curfew.  However, Mike snuck Lucy in while their father slept in the living room.  

He was trying to find something nice to wear.  As he looked through his closet, and buttoned up his shirt, Lucy got up and helped him.  Noticing a certain item of clothing she particularly adored but her father hated to see, she said, "Won't you ever wear your leather again?"

Paul smiled, but said, "I can't."  

She held the heavy jacket up to him.  "Why not?  It looks fab on you.  If you won't wear it, can I?"  

"No."

"What is it?" his girlfriend leaned on his foot locker.  He took the leather from her and tossed it on his bed.  And without warning he kissed her, resting gentle hands on her waist.  "You're so sweet, Lucy.  You're one of few, purely good things in my life.  And my good girl doesn't wear leather jackets."  Mr. Rydell, though over the time he knew him began to like Paul, was not a fan of his bad-ass attitude from before.  He had told Lucy himself that he wouldn't let his daughter out with him if he was dressed in such a way.  She was a good girl, and she deserved a nice boy.  

And at the time, Mr. Rydell didn't think Paul was a nice boy.  

Paul lifted her up from the foot locker.  Kissing her again, he said, "You're my angel.  I'd be ruining you if I made you change."

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Paul startled when he woke feeling Lucy tucked in his embrace.  It was a strange feeling.  Not one that was uncomfortable, but it was different to have her sleep next to him after being gone for what felt like years.  

He accidentally began to panick when he saw how still she was, but she woke.  "Paul, are you alright?"  

He sighed, and kissed her again for the millionth time in the past few hours that she had been there.  The second youngest Beatle couldn't keep his hands off of her, out of fear that she might just disappear if he didn't hold on.  "I just...I missed you so much."  He reached over to flick on the light without breaking their kiss.  "If...if you'd let me call Brian...we could do this all day...if-if you'd like," he stuttered, feeling breathless as Lucy kissed his cheek.  "I'd tell him...that I'm sick."  

But then he thought that he should bring in Lucy and show everyone that she was alright.  Along with her family.  What about Layla!  Was she alive too?

"But there's so much to know." He said.  She nodded.  Sitting up, she said, "Maybe...maybe we should get dressed.  I'm...a bit hungry.  I feel like I haven't eaten in a long while."  

Paul immediately got ready to make them something to eat.

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George and Layla didn't sleep at all that night.  They couldn't, not after what had happened.  However, he wouldn't let her out of his sight, which wasn't a problem, for she didn't want to leave his sight.  

One of the first things that she said to him was, "Don't tell my parents, George."  He knew why.  They wouldn't believe her, or they'd flaunt the tale as if she was some freak show.  Layla didn't want anything to do with her family for the rest of her life, even though they thought she was dead.  

"Is...is this...your actual body?  Like what what we buried?" George swallowed.  Layla smirked slightly, but shook her head.  "It's new...but it's got some similarities."  She pulled down her shirt sleeve a bit to reveal a birthmark on her shoulder, one that she had before she died.  "And Lucy still has that little mole on her back too."  

George sat up.  "Lucy's back too?"  Layla nodded.  

He couldn't believe how amazing it was.  He kept telling Layla to hit him to see if he was dreaming, but she would kiss him instead.  And if it was a dream, why should George have to wake up?  

Then his mood grew sad.  "Layla?"

"Yes?"

"When...when were you going to tell me about...our baby?" Layla instantly looked away from him.  Blinking back faint tears, she said, "I'm sorry, George.  I wanted to, but you seemed so angry and I never got the chance.  If I had the choice, I would have wanted the baby to somehow survive instead of me.  You wanted a baby but I couldn't give it to you-"  George cut her off by kissing her, but she turned her head.  "I'm sorry..."

Turning her head in his direction, he said, "I've got everything I wanted right here.  You're safe...you were gone and I didn't know what I was going to do with myself.  But you're alive, and so is Lucy.  That's all that really matters."  

"I love you," she began to kiss his neck, wanting nothing more than to just lay next to him forever.  

"I love you too."  

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It was around noon when Lucy first saw one.  

She had finished taking a shower and had put on a towel when it jumped at her.  

"Paul!"

"Paul!  Help!"  

Luckily, the door to the bathroom was unlocked and Paul ran into help her.  She was sitting, curled in a ball on the floor, head in her knees.  When she saw Paul, she tugged her towel closer to her body, but he could see that she had blood running down her leg.  "Love, you're bleeding..." he was careful to help her up.  She sat down on the counter and used tissues to clot the blood on her thigh.  "What happened?" he asked.  

She shook her head.  "I don't know know.  It was this shadow, and it jumped on me.  I don't know what it did but it pierced the skin.  I don't know what it wanted.  I couldn't understand it..." she had tears dripping down her cheeks.  Lucy suddenly began to feel very uncomfortable with Paul standing so close.  "What...what are you staring at?" she whimpered, wiping her eyes.  He looked down at the floor.  

"I-I'm sorry.  Here...I'll wait in the living room while you change."  But he didn't wait there.  He didn't know what Lucy saw, and he wasn't going to leave her alone for whatever it was to hurt her again.  So he waited behind the bedroom door, ready to catch the intruder if it showed itself again.  

No one was going to take his Lucy from him again.  

A handful of pebbles hit Lucy's bedroom window.  She was on the second level of her apartment, and she opened it to look down at the street.  It was Paul, waving up at her frantically.  

"What are you doing here?" she whispered harshly, hoping he could lip-read.  If she woke the neighbors, or worse, her parents, she'd be in horrible trouble.  

Without invitation, he started to climb the drainpipe up to her window.  She looked around to check if the coast was clear and tried to help him in.  They had just started dating, but hadn't told her father yet, in fear that he would be angry.  Paul wanted her to tell him, but if he caught the both of them late at night in her room, he might as well just swan-dive out the window and into the alley below.  

Once he had tumbled through the window, he fixed his hair, which had lost a bit of its curl.  Lucy giggled quietly, trying to help him fix it.  "I just finished a gig, and I may have forgotten to pay a guy back for a beer...and now he's hunting me down.  But he didn't see me come here, which means I get to wait some time out with you." he kissed her gently, and put her hands on his chest.  He was a bit sweaty and tasted faintly of alcohol, but that didn't matter to her.  It was a familiar feeling.  

"As soon as though guys are gone, you should come with me to my house.  Mike's out on a date and Dad's asleep...at least I hope he is.  It would be fun, and you'd make me so," he kissed her neck, "so happy."

"If my father caught me I'd be grounded until I'm twenty and you know that," she whispered.  Then there was a knock on her door.  "Lucy?"

"Hide!"

Paul was torn from his memories when he heard a rather large thump in the bedroom.  He was startled that he fell back into the door, pushing it open.  Lucy hid behind her towel, even though she was wearing a skirt and tank-top.  She had left clothes at Paul's before, in case she stayed over and needed them the next day.  He hadn't the heart to get rid of them while he grieved, and it was a good thing he didn't.  "Paul!" she gasped.  

"Lucy!  I-I'm sorry...I didn't mean to walk in.  I heard a noise.  Are you alright?"  

She set down her towel and began to slowly pull on her blouse.  "Fine...thank you."  She turned her back to him as she buttoned up her shirt, and he said, "I don't mean to stare, love.  But...I've...I've just missed you an-and I can't believe that this happened.  I...I read what you wrote.  About how you said that you thought I was with another girl...it...it wasn't true.  I love you, every piece of you.  You're...you're perfect."  He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back.  

"You...you read everything?  Those...those were private, Paul.  I didn't want anyone to see those." she ran a frustrated hand through her hair.  "All those letters from Catherine...if you found out...and now you know.  It's so embarrassing.  It's all true..."  Lucy turned her back towards him.  What other secrets had he found out since she passed away?  Had he really read all of the nasty, horrible, embarrassing things that Catherine taunted Lucy about?  

Paul reached out and touched Lucy's shoulder.  Turning her around, he saw the tears in her big blue eyes.  Everything that she had tried to hide had been revealed to him; she was an open book, which was a feeling that she had never liked.  He knew everything.  He knew how to hurt her and which spots were the most sensitive, both physically and emotionally.  Heartbreak from Paul would be Hell on Earth for Lucy.

But Paul wanted to tell her that he'd never use her secrets against her.  

"I'm sorry..." he held her in his arms.  "But if I had known, I would have done something.  I would have made sure that you felt loved every minute of every day.  Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I stop loving you; it's not an on-and-off switch.  Love doesn't die, Lucy.  And I won't stop caring for you even after I've passed away."  he kissed her gently, and soon he felt that she was no longer crying.  

But in his mind, he thought of that night with Catherine.  

How evil did one have to be to lie to an angel?

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"Layla..."

"Layla, wait."

"No!  No!"  

George thrashed around in his sleep that evening, waking his sleeping girlfriend.  She flicked on the light, shaking his shoulder.  "George!  Wake up!"  

He did, and immediately sat up.  The youngest Beatle had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead; his nightmare had been all too real.  After getting back the love of his life, something took her again from him.  Something dark, like a shadow, and George was powerless against it.  Without warning, he jumped on her, kissing her passionately.  It was a bit rough for what she was expecting, but how could she complain?  It was George.  

"I'm sorry," he whispered.  "But I dreamt that something took you from me.  If you left again...I'd do it, Layla.  I'd join you."  She hushed him, kissing his forehead.  "Don't talk that way." she said.  "I don't want to hear you say such things.  If...if I do somehow leave again, you aren't going to follow me.  You die when it's your time.  Apparently it wasn't our time yet, and it certainly isn't yours.  I'd rather burn in Hell, George, than see you kill yourself.  That's where I'm going anyway."  

George wrapped his arms around her.  "Don't say that, love."  

Layla sighed, and nuzzled her nose into his neck.  "Why not?  I've done so many bad things, George.  Lucy's such a goody-two-shoes; she'd never become as bad as I have.  She's got a family to look after.  No one looks out after me." 

He pushed some of her newly blonde hair aside, so he could see her eyes, which were still beautiful and dark.  

"Great show tonight, babe," she told him as they slipped out of the club that the lads were playing.  Paul, Lucy, John and Cynthia stayed behind after getting caught up in the traffic of people trying to ask the performers questions, meanwhile Ringo and his date left almost immediately.  He smirked, and slipped an arm around her waist as they stepped out into the cool England air.  

"Thank you." he said.  They each had this little game that they played with each other.  They would tease each other relentlessly until one of them gave in and ended up kissing the other.  The two lovers always did it in public, too, and when they snogged in the middle of the sidewalk, George and Layla got many disapproving looks from passers-by and their children.  Many little kids stopped and stared at the two and their parents hurried them along, embarrassed and flustered.  

George's hand wandered lower than Layla's back, and he tried not to smirk when she looked over at him.  Not willing to lose their game, she stopped him on the sidewalk, saying that her shoe was coming loose.  Bending down, she rested her hand on his upper thigh to balance herself when she bent down to adjust the buckle on her shoe.  Layla knew what to do to drive George mad.

Biting his lip, he swore.  Helping her up, he added, "Damn you."  Pushing her up against the building, he kissed her, but she pushed him away.  "Ah...ah...naughty boy.  We've still got a few more rounds to go until we reach your apartment, and I am going to win."

"I need you to look after me, just like I want to look after you.  Layla, starting tomorrow, why don't we just...leave for a day or so?  We'll eventually have to come back, but in that time, we just wander together.  I'll do anything you want.  We can go anywhere, whether it's London, Madrid or even Paris.  Please...in order to forget about what's happened this past month...in-including our baby...I think we need a vacation."

Layla smiled after a moment.  "I'd love to."  

 

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