Lucy sat down next to Paul on the kitchen table.  She handed him an ice pack, and began to dab at his reddened cheek.  "Why did you do that?" she asked, rubbing her sore wrist.  

"He grabbed you.  He was forcing you to kiss him." Paul said angrily, running a hand through his curly hair.  "He almost broke your wrist, so I broke his nose."  Lucy winced.  She hoped Paul didn't do that much damage.  

"We were on a date."

"He would have hurt you." Paul countered.  His band was playing at the Cavern Club that evening, and Lucy and her date went to see.  The girl was incredibly excited for that night, for she wasn't often asked out.  And the boy had been someone she had fancied for awhile.  She believed him handsome...but not as handsome as Paul.  

After the show, her date pulled her behind one of the arches at the venue and began to get rough with her.  Paul saw...and it didn't end well for either of them.  Her date recieved a horribly bloody nose, and Paul walked away with a black eye and a nasty little cut on his check.  Lucy's date swore at both of them before hurrying away.  "Freak," he had snapped at Lucy.  Paul would have ran at him if Lucy hadn't told him not to.  

Paul couldn't stand any boy Lucy saw, for reasons evident to everyone but her.  He cared for her so much.  He felt bad for hitting the boy she fancied, but if someone wasn't treating her right, he would deal with them.  

Gently wrapping his arms around her, he stroked her hair.  "I'm sorry, my lov-Lucy.  I know you really fancied him."

"But I promised myself I wouldn't let anything hurt you."

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All four Beatles, including Cynthia, Julian and Brian, attended the funeral.  Outside, it was a frenzy.  Everyone wanted to take pictures of the grieving members and their families.  Brian and John shouted at everyone to leave the mourners alone.  They were at a funeral.

George thought it was quietest building they ever walked into, never mind the softest funeral.  No one wanted to talk about the girls, and those who knew about the unborn baby didn't dare mention it to anyone else.  

The caskets were closed, but were surrounded by pictures of Lucy and Layla.  He examined his girlfriend's photos carefully.  There were only two pictures of her and her foster family.  The rest were with him, or of her by herself and her guitar.  Stephen had dropped her guitar off at George's house, knowing that he would want it.  If he hadn't accepted, he figured Anna would have used it for firewood.  However it made George feel even worse, for it sat their right next to his guitars and ukulele. 

Not able to contain the tears, he patted Paul's shoulder and went to the bathroom to compose himself before anyone could see.

Paul stared down at the pictures of Lucy with longing eyes.  Mr. Rydell put a hand on his shoulder, unable to say a word before walking away with Robert in tow.  For awhile, Lucy's father didn't approve of Paul, with his teddy-boy hair, leather clothes and the fact that he ran off with his band for a few months, leaving Lucy very sad, but she would have never admitted it.  

It was the first time Paul broke her heart.  Lucy had liked Paul from the moment she met him, but she was afraid to get too close.  Lucy knew that he had seen many girls while he was off on his adventure with the band, and it hurt to know that she wasn't one of them.  Lucy had also been frightened that she had scared him away.  She had told Paul herself once that it would be hard for her to trust a teddy-boy, for they were typically cruel and edgy.  But she loved the sweet look in his doe-eyes.  

There were several photographs of Lucy with family members that he didn't recognize.  Paul and George didn't mind meeting the girls' family, but they prefered snogging Lucy and Layla in the backrooms of wherever the party was, so they both weren't the best at remembering names.  There were plenty with her and Robert, and with her entire family.  There was one that Paul loved most, and that was one of her little brother, Paul and her together.  He felt tears prick his eyes.  

Then came the photos of Paul and Lucy.  Some of them were beautiful, but others were ones Paul didn't approve of.  Especially the one that showed them kissing.  Lucy wouldn't have wanted such a private moment flaunted.

Paul's brother and father came about twenty minutes later.  And though for awhile he wasn't pleased with Lucy, he hugged Paul close.  "I'm sorry, son.  I know how much you loved her."  Paul couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about his mother Mary, who had past away several years before.  

They sat together on the bench.  Whenever George got upset, Cynthia, who was sitting next to him with Julian on his lap, took his hand and gave it a squeeze.  It only helped a little.  

Then the pastor called Paul up to perform the song he had written on the piano.  With shaky knees, he walked up the stairs and took a seat on the piano bench.  With trembling hands, he took a deep breath and then began to play.  

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time, 

Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you.

The audience was entranced by the young, handsome singer, but Paul glanced over at the two caskets and immediately felt tears in his eyes.  He missed a few keys on the piano.  

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time, 

Hung me on a line, 

Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you.

His voice broke, and he hung his head in his hands.  He couldn't play.  I need you, Lucy.

The pastor put his hand on Paul's shoulder and whispered to him if he was alright.  He shook his head.  

"Can you go on?"

"No."

How could he go on at all?

As he got up and miserably walked back to his pew, he felt people's eyes on him.  He wished for Lucy's calling voice.  

"Lucy?"

"Oh, Paul!  I've missed you." But then she noticed the sadness in his voice.  "What's wrong?"

The boy ran a hand through his gelled, curly hair and moved closer to the phone.  He was shivering in the cold.  It was raining horribly and his jacket was not waterproof.  "I messed up today.  They jeered us off the stage.  John's mad as hell.  I think he's going to kick me out of the band any day now.  And I haven't any money to get back to Liverpool." 

Lucy wished that she was with him more than ever then.  Reading her mind, Paul said, "I wish you were here to hug me.  You give the best hugs, Lucy."  If he had really said what he wanted, Paul woud have told her, "I wish you were here to kiss me.  I've dreamed about the kiss you would give me."

Mike put a hand on his shoulder.  "Hey, mate," he whispered, "it's alright.  No one here is brave enough to go up there.  You're a good man, Paul."

But he still felt horrible.  

George went up to the front of the church, where his stool and guitar were waiting for him.  He hoped he would be able to finish his song, for Paul wasn't able to.  

Picking up his guitar, he closed his eyes and began to play softly.  

Would you know my name, if I saw you in Heaven?

Would it be the same, if I saw you in Heaven?

He knew that some of the mourners were touched at the religious context of the song, but George wasn't sure if he believed in such a thing.  He knew there was something up there, and there had to be a place where Layla was safe and sound, but he wasn't sure about the whole 'God in Heaven' thing.  He wanted to believe in something like that, but he didn't see the appeal.  And when Layla was alive, she wasn't sure if she believed either.  

Thinking of her made his voice break, and he tried to play faster, hoping that he would be able to make it through the song before he couldn't take it anymore.  

Time can bring you down,

Time can bend your knees, 

Time can break your heart,

Have you begging please-

George couldn't take it.  The group in front of him looked disappointed, but he couldn't continue.  "I'm sorry." he said.  "I...just can't.  I'm so sorry."

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In an effort to try to make the event more about remembering than mourning (and failing at it), the Rydells and the Scotts, though that was her foster family's last name, not Layla's, prepared a lunch in the church hall.  Paul and George couldn't eat.  Both of the families tried to comfort them and told them that they played wonderfully, but it wasn't much use.  

John brought Julian over to Paul once.  "Would you mind holding him for a few minutes?  Cyn's crying, but she doesn't want him to see.  I was going to go help her."  Paul held out his arms wordlessly and accepted John's son.  "Thanks, mate."

"No problem."

The toddler hadn't said a word all day.  If Paul hadn't recieved his note, he would have wondered if the little boy knew about what happened to Lucy and Layla.  But then Julian looked up at him.  "Why did they have to go, Paul?" he hiccuped, tearing up a little bit.  He held the little one close.  

"I don't know, Jules."

George sat alone.  He didn't want to be complemented for not finishing his song, or feel another sympathy.  

Then Anna sat down next to him, pretending to wipe her eyes.  "So," she whispered, "you've heard Layla's news, Daddy?"  Anna smirked.  George felt like flipping the table.  "You don't know what it was like, finding out you had a child that was killed.  The love of my life an her best friend are gone, which took my heart.  And then I found out that I would have been a father...and now everything good in me is gone.  The same thing happened to Paul.  Some people are born without hearts, and others have them taken away.  I know now that you didn't have one in the first place."

He stood up and hurried out of the room, and when Paul noticed, he picked up Julian and went after him.  Paul found him in the empty cathedral, staring at the caskets which were draped with flowers and photos.  Paul sat down next to him.  Julian tugged on George's jacket, which made the youngest Beatle look up.  If it were anyone else besides the toddler or a lady, he would have told them to leave him alone.  "Hey there, Jules."

"Are you alright, mate?" Paul whispered.  George shook his head silently.  Julian wanted to be set down, and so Paul watched him run up to look at the photographs.  

"I'm starting to think I've gone insane," the older boy continued.  "I keep hearing her voice all around, and one night I came home, fell asleep and in the middle of the night, felt someone start to kiss my neck and play with my hair.  Lucy loved to play with my hair." Paul whispered.  

George looked up at him.  "Really?  I hear her voice too, but the other day, when I was playing guitar, something else happened.  I could feel her trying to move my fingers around to different chords."

"See, right here...that's a 'C' chord."  George smiled at Layla as she played it for him.  He was sitting behind her, and they both were messing around with his guitar.  Even though they were dating, and Layla had told George that she cared for him more than she had cared for any other boy, the youngest Beatle occasionally would have these urges to hold her, keep his hands on her.  He did it mostly in public, but he couldn't stop once they arrived at home.  Layla had noticed for awhile, but she never complained.  George had his hand resting on her leg while she played a song on the guitar.  

"I know what you're doing," she giggled.  "You know I'm just as good of a guitar player as you.  I've been playing since I was little.  You just want to touch me."  She laid her own hand on the one he had resting on her leg.  George kissed her cheek gently.  "Why wouldn't I want to touch you?" he said.  "I like admiring beautiful things."

"It's the strangest thing," George concluded.  "I know I could never forget her, but occasionally I want to in order to think about music.  But the music just reminds me of her and I can feel her behind me.  She'll touch me and-"

"I've felt Lucy try to kiss me.  She was worried about me-"

"So was Layla, but then I realize she's not there.  They're someplace else and all I feel is-"

"Ghost pains," they both agreed on. 

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Yes, I am aware that 'Tears In Heaven' was an Eric Clapton song.  But it fit well with the story and my friend loves it.

I hope you enjoyed it!