Penny Lane's Getting Better (John Lennon/Paul McCartney x reader)

John's legs ached by the time he made it back to Pete's. He brushes his hair out of his face, the sweat on his forehead not helping him any bit. He bangs on the door, swearing he'll get a splinter from the rough wood.

Pete opens the door, looking confused.

"John?"

He brushes past Pete into the house. Pete's parents jolt off the couch, startled. He glances at them, but continues to the basement door, quickly descending the stairs.

"John!" Pete calls out again, but no answer is returned. John reaches the bottom step, grabbing some of his lyric sheets and his guitar. He had left his aunt alone on the sidewalk in his haste. He hopes she doesn't wait for him because he needed some time to himself...to think.

Pete made it down the stairs with worry.

"Sorry," is all John is able to mutter before he pushes past him back up the stairs. Pete just blinks and watches him go.

"Pete! What is your friend doing?" Pete's mother calls.

"Sorry, Mrs. Best," John says loudly. The front door stayed open as he ran through it. He didn't look back as his legs carried him down the street. This was important, more important than anything else in the entire world currently.

John didn't care about who got in the way as long as he was able to get to Paul...to get to you. It was time to explain everything, time to stop pushing you away.

Acceptance.

"Hey John," the barber calls from his shop.

"Can't talk, but hi!" he shouts back. The lyric sheets were glued to his chest by his arm. The guitar case creaked and screeched as he ran. People stopped and stared, watching him go by with mild disgust.

"Oh, get a life!" He called at some of his classmates. The girls gasped and the boys looked embarrassed. John didn't care.

He ran past his house, past your house...

Your sister was playing out front and she waves at him. He waves back with a kind smile which was quickly replaced by a scowl once he saw his aunt.

"John!" she yells.

"Nope!" he shouts, continuing his sprint to the hospital. Cars avoided him as he crossed the streets, his heartbeat rapidly against his chest.

Finally, the hospital came into view, he let out a breath of relief. He ran to the front doors, nearly hitting a couple.

"Where is Paul McCartney?" he says, breathlessly to the front desk worker.

"Who are you?" the lady asks.

"John, John Lennon," he replies, wiping away some more sweat.

"I don't know if I can let you in-"

"He's with me," a voice calls down the hallway. He looks up to see you at the end of the hallway. You look tired and the scowl on your face didn't make it any better.

"Y/N," he says, practically running to meet you. You glare at him, but he immediately goes in for a hug which catches you off guard.

"I don't think Paul wants to see you,"

"Yeah, well he'll have to," John pushes you away, slightly running into the hospital room. George and Ringo stand up from their seats, surprised by his presence. Paul sits in his hospital bed surrounded by his family. He stares at John for a moment before sitting up slightly.

"John?" he whispers.

"Paul." He rushes over to his bedside. He wanted so badly to hug him and just spill his guts about everything. His words still sat in his mouth while he reached out for Paul's hand.