"Mmm...Lucy..."  

"Stop it...let me..."

John rolled over on the bed they were sharing.  His younger bandmate was having a dream of his girlfriend, who was back home in England.  This was the third night in a row and he was tired of it.  So were George and Ringo, as they were all in the same room.  The drummer sat up when John did.  Paul was a rather heavy sleeper, most of them were, so he knew he could toy with him.  

The next time he sighed to himself, John whispered in his ear, "You know how much I like that, Paulie."  Only Lucy could get away with calling him that.  Paul muttered something inaudible before turning over on his stomach quickly, muttering, "Ha!" as if he thought she was beneath him.  

George sat up.  "What the hell are you doing?"  He got a better look and then smirked.  "Squeeze his ass.  See what happens."  

John did, and the younger boy let out a rather loud gasp.  He whispered something quiet about Lucy again before suddenly waking.  "Hey!"  He hit John with his pillow, and blushed when he realized everyone had heard.  He tossed his pillow on the floor and took one of the blankets with him.  George and Ringo quickly fell back to sleep.  A few minutes later John said, "You don't have to sleep on the floor, mate.  It was just a joke."

"I know...but I miss her.  I'm sorry for keeping you awake."

"I miss Cyn too, but it's only a few more days."

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The doctor had told Paul that it was evident that Lucy had an inferiority complex, but he was not certain whether that it was someone else's intention to cut her throat or her own.  They would have to run some tests to be sure.  Her parents came to see her but Robert was not allowed.  A few days later she was released, however she would have to come back to check itn.  

She was utterly humiliated.  And Paul was frightened of her.  As much as she tried to explain that she had not intended to hurt him, that she had begged this spirit to spare him.  

He wouldn't look her in the eye.  He slept in the living room.  And if he spoke to her, it was not sweet. 

On Christmas Eve, she wished him goodnight.  He murmured something quiet in reply before lying down on the couch.  When he was nearly asleep, she set down his Christmas present near him, and bent over to kiss him, but couldn't bring herself to.  What if she scared him?  

Would he be angry when he woke and she was gone?  Or relieved?

Lucy thought it was too late to go back home to her parents' house, even though she had a key.  She would see them the next day, and if she went there early, they would worry.  So, she went to see the Lennons, who were hosting a small party, one at which Ringo was present.  George was no where to be found.  

She wanted to help him, yet she wondered if Layla would be angry if she did.  In her mind, they were meant to be together.  And when Layla told Lucy she was pregnant again, but was ready, she was excited.  

If only George had been.

She danced with the drummer for awhile, which put a smile on her face.  Lucy was glad they could remain friends after what happened between them.  He had a new girlfriend, one he was incredibly fond of, but she had a separate party that evening.  

Julian was asleep in his room, so the party was hushed a bit.  She was having a quiet, pleasant conversation with Cynthia before she asked, "Where is Paul?"  She covered her mouth.  "Forgive me, I don't wish to pry."  

"No...it's fine.  After I came back from the hospital...we had a bit of a falling out."  She blinked her eyes several times, afraid she was going to cry.  Cynthia led her into a quieter room.  "Oh, sweetie..."  She sat her down in their spare bedroom.  "You'll be alright.  I know you will...Paul loves you so much.  I guarantee he will be at your doorstep tomorrow."

"I'm sorry..." she wiped her eyes gently, trying not to swear the make-up she wore.  Cynthia shook her head.  "It's fine.  Everyone cries."

Lucy asked how things had been going with John and Julian.  "I feel like he's getting better.  He hasn't left at night lately unless it's for work.  He likes playing with Julian.  It makes me so happy to see them together."  

Then her husband stumbled into the doorway.  It was obvious he was a bit tipsy that evening.  "Well, hi, Lucy.  Where's Paul?"

"...At home."

He nodded.  "Are you staying here tonight?  We've got room."

"Oh, that wouldn't be necessary-"

"We insist." Cynthia said, giving her a shy smile.  Lucy accepted knowing she didn't have many other options.  

Once the party cleared out, Lucy took off her dress so she would just sleep in her slip.  When she walked out to say goodnight to her hosts, she heard them in the kitchen.  "Come on, love.  This is the reason we have parties."  Cynthia pushed her husband's wandering hands away.  Kissing him, she said, "Let's just go to sleep.  Tomorrow will be busy."  

But he took her hands.  "Even more reason to enjoy ourselves tonight."  

"John," she winced as he got closer to her, "love, please don't-"

Lucy said loudly, "John, will you help me pull out the spare bed, please?"  He looked over to her and let go of Cyn's hands.  She blushed wildly before picking up some of the empty glasses and putting them in the sink.  Lucy hadn't meant to embarrass her, but she was afraid something would have happened if she remained quiet.  

She could have pulled out the bed herself, after all.

He followed her back into the spare room.  With a small grunt he pulled out the bed from the couch in one tug.  "Thank you," Lucy said quietly.  

"No problem."  Without warning, he kissed her cheek.  "Happy Christmas, Lucy."  

"...Happy Christmas, John."

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Layla could barely keep herself awake during the movie.  George had seemed excited to see it, so she played along.  But even the action parts were boring, and the romance was awkward and forced. 

But maybe she could get George to pay attention to her.  

She was sitting on the couch above him while he was sitting on the floor.  Layla slipped down to his level.  Her skirt bunched up a bit around her thighs, and he tried not to notice.  She rested her head on his shoulder and started playing with his fingers.  She pressed his hand on his leg, palm up, and stroked it with her middle finger.  His hands were bigger and his fingers were longer than hers, so she had to move her hand around, making it not-so discrete.

Even though the awful monster character in this movie was not frightening at all, she pretended to jump out of fright and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, fiddling with his shirt sleeve.  He seemed amused at her attempts.  

What do I have to do?  Jump on you?  Bite you?  Take away your candy?

She tried to take away the sweets he had been eating, to which he responded, "I will bite your hand."

At least that part of me would get some attention.

Eventually she just gave up and lay across his lap.  He looked down at her.  "Do you want something?" he smirked.  

"I'd never thought you'd ask."

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"I can't drink, Eric.  I'm sorry...I've read it's not good for the baby."  Layla said.  She did love parties, and did enjoy drinking, but she had to wait at least eight more months to do it again.  

But he understood.  "I know what I'll do.  I think I have sparkling cider in the cabinet...for New Year's.  We can have it now."  She felt bad that he wasn't drinking because of her, but appreciated the gesture.  

She passed the hall mirror and glanced at herself.  Occasionally she felt like her stomach was more bloated than usual, which was normal.  Tonight she felt that way, but wasn't too insecure about it.  

Eric smiled, and handed her a glass of the sparkling cider.  "You look lovely tonight.  Your dress is so...tight."  One of his hands rested on the back of her legs, which were exposed.  The dress was shorter than most, but Layla didn't mind.  She was comfortable around Eric.  Very comfortable.  

"Thank you...but you look very good yourself.  You're so gorgeous."  He turned her around so she was facing him, and gently took her glass from her hands.  Setting them down on the entryway stand, he pulled her close and slid his hands down to the hem of her dress.  Living with him had been a dream.  She had done things with him, told things to him that George had never known.  And when he pressed his lips to hers, she felt intoxicated and happily dizzy.  He was always mindful of her stomach, and loved to gentle run his hands over that area, tickling her.  

The doorbell rang, but he hesitated to answer it.  "I want to give you something..." she whispered.  She pressed a gentle, passionate kiss on his neck, grazing his shirt.  It showed up dark red on his white button-up.  "Because you're mine...and I don't want anyone thinking differently."  She walked out of the hall, and he watched her go before opening the door.  

It was a night of fun.  

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George was sitting on his couch with an empty beer bottle sitting in front of him.  He had his knees pulled up to his chest, tears in his eyes.  

For once, he had no hope.  

He didn't deserve her forgiveness.  He laid his hands on her...and his baby.  

She had never called for help.  Eric was taking care of her now.  She didn't need him anymore.  She found someone else who would adore her, please her...but who wouldn't make her cry.  

He wasn't surprised when the shadow came.  It simply hovered next to him.  George wasn't afraid.  "You've haunted me for months.  Just kill me.  You'd be doing everyone a favor."  

The shadow's voice made him shudder.  "I merely wish to show you something.  You want to think that there is no hope, yet there is a tiny part of you that thinks there still is.  Would you like to see Layla one last time?  After all, she hates you so much she will avoid you until the day she dies."  

George picked up the empty bottle and threw it at him, but it did not affect the creature.  Instead the youngest Beatle felt a horrible pain, and then woke in a different house.  Eric's house.  He watched as his love examined herself in the mirror, gently touching her stomach.  George went to touch her shoulder but his hand simply passed through her pale skin.  The shadow appeared near him once more.  "It is useless.  She cannot feel your presence."

Then this creature nodded to Eric, who snuck up behind her and grabbed her waist.  "I know it's late, but I've never felt so wide awake."  

She kissed his neck gently, adding more lipstick stains to his collar.  George wanted to stop her, but what's the use?  

Eric knew every place she liked to be kissed and where she liked to be touched.  In only a matter of months he found them out when it took George years.  He didn't know what to do.  He wanted to throttle Eric, scream at them, and yet he wanted to simply turn away and let her do what she desired. 

He knew that it would be best to let her go.  

But he couldn't.  

George felt responsible for her, and for their baby.  He was supposed to be there, to help her.  

Without warning, he screamed at the shadow, "This is YOUR fault!  You possessed me!  You made me hit her!  You made me scare her away!"  

The shadow seemed amused.  "You must control your anger.  If you act so unruly the next time you see Eric by chance, you will kill him.  And Layla needs him.  He is more of the baby's father than you now."  

George woke back in his room, screaming out of anger and frustration.  Layla was only several city blocks away, yet George felt like he was underground in Hell.  She would never hear his cries, never care.  

For once in his life he wanted to hurt someone.  Break them.  

And he knew just the person...

Happy Valentine's Day!  I tried to make this chapter somewhat romantic.

But it's still sad.

I'm alone today.

No surprise, I've only been with someone once on a Valentine's Day.  And I was too shy to give him the valentine I made him.  

Please vote and comment!  Love you all!

Peace, 

Luna <3