Title: The Dr. Maxwell S.H. Institution
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the Beatles or any rights of theirs', this whole story is purely fictive and I am not suggesting any occurrence in this has taken place for real.
A/N: Back at the institution, and beware! It's a tiny bit drama and loads of giggles.
Comments are very much appreciated :) My ego would like to get a boost these early December days, so I'm asking feedback from everyone who does read this story but never comments, one person in particular and you know who you are! ;) Enjoy.
Chapter 6
October '57
Paul
Paul knocked on the door. He knew John was in there - he could swear he heard breathing inside. He was nervous though, because he still didn't know how John would react - he'd been thinking about it all night. Flashbacks of his first day here came back to him, and reminded him of how John had been the first weeks. John didn't reply though.
''John?'' he asked quietly as he opened the door -just enough to peer in. He was laying on the bed, not replying. He tried again, repeating John's name, but again he didn't get a response. Paul sighed and opened the door, annoyed by what John was doing - ignoring him. Exactly what he'd hoped John would not do.
''Come on,'' he said while he walked towards John. ''What's wrong with you?''
John opened an eye, glaring at him venomously. Paul very much got the urge to take a step back, away from John, but he ignored it, staring back at him. Then John got on his feet, and walked out of the room without even doing as much as greeting Paul.
He fell down on his bed, feeling exhausted. The trip had been boring, as always, and he hadn't been able to think of nice things. He'd hoped John's behaviour had gone back to normal but it obviously hadn't. He guessed John would be heading for Stuart though, so Terry would most likely be walking in within a couple of minutes, asking what was wrong - it had happened a few times before when John had gotten upset with playing guitar. Paul sighed, this was nothing like that, and he really wished it was.
He left his guitar in his case, not bothered doing anything. At the moment he wanted to lay down on his bed and try to sleep for a while, there was a knock on his door.
''Hey,'' Terry greeted him as he opened the door.
''Hi, come in,'' he said, smiling sadly.
''What's wrong with John?'' Terry asked as he sat down on Paul's bed. Paul sat down next to him, sighing.
''I don't know,'' he replied in all honesty. ''I was afraid he might react like this but...'' Paul looked down, he didn't really know how to continue.
''What happened then?'' Terry sat upright on the bed, looking at Paul. ''You went out together, does it have to do with that night?''
Paul nodded. ''He walked out as well. Everything was fine at first, but after we got drinks for the girls ...''
''Fuck,'' Terry whispered, shuffling around on the bed so he was leaning against the wall with his back. ''Any clue why he acted like this?''
''No,'' Paul said, frustrated with his own stupidity, turning to Terry. ''He was dancing with Cynthia, and I swear he liked her, I've seen them snog each other! She came to see me and Dot while she was bloody well crying, and when I went looking for John I found him outside. He seemed furious, and when I asked him what was wrong... he walked away.''
''And you didn't see him again?'' Terry replied.
''No, I didn't,'' Paul leaned back against the wall as well, now sitting shoulder to shoulder with Terry. ''I didn't visit him again later on, because I was scared he would react like he's done now.''
They were quiet for a while, both boys staring into empty space. Paul tried not to think too much, he wouldn't solve this anyway. Terry looked as though he was deep in thought though, so Paul figured he might be able to work this out, or at least help him.
''Paul,'' Terry said after a while - he sounded like he was hesitating about what he was about to say - ''you remember our conversation of a while back, right?'' He looked at Paul, his grey-blue eyes intense and nearly taking Paul's breathe away. ''You know, the one about John. You told me you thought he might be...''
Paul swallowed, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. ''Yeah, I do,'' he said eventually. ''I remember.''
''Alright,'' Terry took a deep breath, ''and do you think it could possibly have to do with John's behaviour?''
''Yeah,'' Paul admitted. ''I thought about that. Just briefly because I don't like thinking about that kind of thing, you have to know but-''
''Hush,'' Terry interrupted. ''I'm not disgusted by you if you are thinking about it,'' he winked at Paul, and Paul wondered what he meant. ''But right now we're just trying to figure out why John's upset, alright? I mean... I don't think he'd ever tell Stu the real reason, to be honest.''
''But we don't know it's the real reason,'' Paul asked nervously.
''We don't know for sure, but I'd say we're pretty close to the truth.'' Terry smiled at him. ''When exactly did he walk away?''
''When I repeated my question about what was wr-''
''No,'' Terry cut him off, ''in the club I mean. When did he walk away from the girl? Was she doing anything special?''
''Not really,'' Paul thought back to the evening, ''she was grinding against John, last time I saw them... I met his eyes but it didn't look like he was disgusted or anything and you know as well as I do that John is very good at communicating with his eyes - as long as he wants to. And I'd definitely say he would've showed if he didn't like dancing with Cynthia.''
Terry frowned. ''Strange...'' he said. ''I don't really understand him to be honest.''
Paul started laughing. ''No me neither,'' he replied. ''John can be so ... unlike other people at times. One moment you think you've figured out how he thinks and acts and the next he reminds you of how little you actually know about him.''
Terry nodded in agreement, and after a while the laughter died.
''What about you though?'' the question from the older boy came quite out of the blue.
''What do you mean?'' Paul replied, not sure what he meant.
''Well...'' Terry started, fidgeting and appearing to be unsure of himself. ''Did you like dancing with Dot... or was there someone else you'd rather be with?''
''Err,'' Paul thought back at the night. He'd thought about John but it had only been briefly, hadn't it?
''Oh... just never mind,'' Terry buried his face in his hands. The strangest thing about it all was that he was blushing.
''What's wrong with you?'' Paul asked in wonderment. This was the second time someone reacted to him in a very unusual way, and he had no idea whether he had anything to do with it.
''Nothing is...'' Terry looked frustrated. ''Just... I can't ...''
Paul raised his eyebrow. ''You can't do what?''
''I can't tell you what's wrong,'' the older boy sighed. ''Because you wouldn't understand anyway.''
''You can always tell me and see how I react. Maybe I do understand,'' Paul replied, hoping Terry would reply. He was getting curious about what Terry was going to say.
''Okay,'' Terry shifted uncomfortably. ''Please don't walk away or anything but, well, I kind of don't like Margo anymore...'' he began.
Paul raised his eyebrows. ''And?'' he said when Terry didn't continue.
''And I do like someone else - and I like this person much more than Margot...'' Terry bit on his lip and then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was looking straight at Paul with a hint of sadness in his eyes. He covered Paul's hand with his own, and Paul could feel his heart rate quickening, already knowing which words were coming.
''Who?'' he asked -completely unnecessary but he felt like he needed to. Terry kept staring into his eyes and smiled wistfully.
''You.''
Although Paul knew this had been coming, it still shocked him. Here was someone who liked him, who really took a fancy on him (while he'd never been sure when he was going out with girls like Dot -they might as well have been pretending all along)... and it was a bloke.
''Uhm...'' he was at a loss of words, stuttering and feeling how he started blushing. After all, it was kind of flattering, wasn't it?
''But I've got to get going,'' Terry said, about to get up from the bed. Paul grabbed his arm - they needed to talk about this, just as well as he still had to talk about John.
''You don't have to,'' Paul said quietly. ''I'm just a bit shocked, alright?''
''And not interested,'' Terry added. Paul shook his head.
''I'm not, no, you're right. But... it doesn't mean we can't stay friends though, does it?''
Terry shrugged. ''I suppose so... I never thought I'd ever have a chance with you anyway...''
Paul raised an eyebrow. ''Why not?'' he asked, surprising himself and he could feel the slight blush from before deepening into a dark red.
Terry's eyes widened in a very cartoonesque way. ''What the?'' he uttered, and his jaw probably would have dropped to the floor if it had been able, Paul thought.
Paul shrugged, hiding his face in his hands and giggling slightly because this whole situation was making him feel nervous and funny to his stomach. He was well aware of his slightly childish behaviour but he couldn't help it - it wasn't as if he got to hear he was being liked every day.
''Paul?'' a now grinning Terry said. ''Have you been thinking about a specific person that's not a girl?''
Again, Paul could feel his face get warm. ''Maybe?'' he grinned sheepishly, actually seeing the humour of this all. Then he reminded himself of how it definitely had not been Terry.
''But let me guess...'' Terry's face saddened again. ''It wasn't me.''
''No,'' Paul admitted, looking at John's bed and feeling a sense of longing rush over him. He wasn't sure but thought it might be so that his urge for John to like him had anything to do with all of this. He'd been remembering flashes of dreams the past couple of days, especially last night and on the way back to the institution. Paul reckoned they weren't exactly what he'd call innocent, and they were all about John. Maybe his unconscious had tried to make him aware of something?
''Uhm, can I ask you who it was then? Or maybe give it a guess?'' Terry's question sent him right back to reality. And in all honesty - he felt like he was playing a game, an illicit game about things he probably shouldn't even have thought about in the first place... but he liked this.
''You can guess,'' Paul smirked. ''But you only get one guess... and you can ask for whatever you want if you're right!'' There was no way Terry could possibly know he'd been thinking about John. He dared to bet Terry would call Ivan's name, or perhaps someone who went to the music course. Terry seemed to consider several possibilities, but Paul was pretty sure he already had made up his mind about the name he was going to say.
''It's John, isn't it?'' Terry said after minutes of silence.
''It is,'' Paul managed to bring out, slightly in shock. ''How did you know?'' he asked.
''Well,'' Terry smiled half-heartedly, ''you two have got a great deal of chemistry going on... I suppose that much is obvious for other people as well, but... After you visited me to talk about John I started paying attention to him. He kind of looks a lot in your direction, you know?'' Terry shrugged. ''And besides, you two would make a lovely couple, if I'd say so myself.''
Paul started to blush again. It wasn't every day he heard he and another boy would make a wonderful couple, much less from another boy even! In a ... positive way, wasn't it?
''You don't have to go all shy on me,'' Terry grinned, as he poked Paul in his side. Then he turned serious again, looking straight into Paul's eyes. Much like before Paul already could guess what Terry was going to say. ''Now I can ask you for a favour, right?'' Paul nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to stay calm even though he was as tense as wire because he bloody well knew and he still had no idea what he should answer.
''Er, I am not going to force you to say yes or anything...'' Terry began, ''but it's just for the once and you'll at least know what it is like and it might help you too and I only want to know how it would be like to-''
Paul interrupted Terry's nervous ramble. ''What is it you'd like?'' he said. ''You'll have to say it out loud if you want me to know what it is, you know?''
''Uh, right,'' Terry now blushed as well. Then he took a deep breath. ''Would you kiss me?'' he asked quietly.
Which was definitely what Paul had expected. He considered the possibilities: yes and no. No was easy, he'd be kissing a boy and it would be wrong what he was doing so he probably shouldn't do it... But John was a bloke too and he kind of wouldn't mind kissing him, and kissing was really a lot of fun and... would it harm him? Probably not, would it? He didn't think so. And besides, Terry had full lips, like himself, and much like the birds. Pretty lips, actually.
He didn't give himself time to wonder why this felt so normal while it should be awkward, and uncomfortable, and most of all not right.
Terry looked at him questioningly. Paul smiled at him, and then gave a small nod. He could see how the other boy's eyes lit up the moment he agreed to do it. He turned his body towards Terry's, and unexpectedly soon, he felt a set of warm lips against his own. When Terry's face reduced to nothing more than a flurry of colours, he closed his eyes.
He could feel a tremor in Terry's body when their chests were practically pushed together, a hand in his hair, messing it up. It felt passionate, Paul thought, very passionate. Terry's lips were none softer than Dot's, but the way he was kissing was different - rougher, but he wasn't sure anymore it was because of their gender or because Terry really did seem to like him quite a lot. When Terry broke the kiss after a couple of minutes, he looked shyly at Paul with his face flustered and his breathing quick.
''You really do like me, don't you?'' Paul chuckled.
''Yeah...'' Terry kept staring at him, and it made Paul feel slightly funny. ''Anyway,'' the older boy said when he finally broke his gaze, ''I should be going back to my own room.''
'''S'pose so,'' Paul replied, not quite knowing how he should act now. ''Can you send John back down? And if he wants to stay with Stu - for whatever reason - you can always sleep here, aye?''
Terry nodded. ''I'll see you tomorrow,'' he said.
''Bye,'' Paul replied softly, while he kept sitting on the bed. Terry left the room, and he was glad it was quiet around him, so he could finally process what all had happened today.
John
Paul was knocking on his door. Fucking git, John thought. He wouldn't let him in, and when Paul pitiful called his name he didn't react. There was no chance he was going to be near the boy who had made him feel confused as fuck and messed up an entire bloody evening and night. Paul, in the mean time, had entered the room.
John opened his eyes ever so slightly, glaring at Paul in - what he hoped was a - deathly way. He didn't want to deal with this shit right now, so he walked straight out of the room, heading for Stu's bunk. Even if he'd have to kick Terry out in a violent manner, he was going to stay there. Secretly he'd been hoping to have the room for himself for another day - he'd arrived yesterday - but his luck seemed to have turned against him.
Terry opened the door for him, and when he saw John's angry face, he looked down at the floor, stepping back to let him in. He didn't say anything, but left the room. John walked in, and Stu - who was laying on his bed - looked up at him, raising his eyebrows in question.
''Paul's arrived?'' he asked.
John nodded. ''Fucking sod.'' He walked to the window, staring at the fields stretching far ahead, wishing he was everywhere but here.
''Look, John,'' Stu sighed and then stood up, walking towards John. ''I hate to say this but... You can't suddenly decide to start hating him without a good reason, right? And what the hell has he done wrong?''
John shrugged. ''He just has to fuck off, that's all,'' he said stubbornly.
''John...'' Stu laid his hand on John's shoulder, much like he'd done that one time when John had gone mad because someone threw away a drawing he liked a lot. It had helped back then, as it had soothed him to know there were people who did care about the artwork he made, but this time it was so different, so far from that itsy bitsy problem and actually eating him because he refused to give in to... anything. He shrugged Stu's hand off.
''I just don't like him anymore, and that's it, okay?'' he grunted, rubbing at his eyes. He was really fucking tired because he'd been afraid to fall asleep and dream any possible strange things - which he was pretty sure would happen. His method had worked though; he hadn't had any sleep last night, which he had supposed was a great thing - until now, because exhaustion had kicked in.
''But something must have happened,'' Stu sounded pleading. ''I know you two have been out, did anything occur then? Did he kiss the girl you liked best?''
''No, he fucking didn't,'' John turned to Stu, getting frustrated with him. ''Nothing happened, bloody hell, why do you need to know anyway?'' he screamed.
''Because you're not acting like you're usual self!'' Stu shouted back at him, which shocked John mildly. He wasn't used to see his friend like this. Stuart continued though. ''Look at yourself! You're ridiculously moody and before you went home you were becoming best mates with Paul! Then now you all of a sudden fucking hate him! I wouldn't say that's fucking well normal!''
''Maybe you just don't know me!'' John burst out, cursing words spilling over his lips and before he knew what he was doing, his fist collided with Stu's cheek.
Then everything was quiet. Silence took over the room and they were only staring at each other; Stuart in shock because his best friend had hit him, had actually hurt him physically - something he hadn't done before and even if so never intentionally. John in shock because it was slightly unexpected - he bloody well knew he could hurt people, easily too... but the fights had always been with other boys at school, never Stu. Because really, Stuart was the one he went to afterwards, to vent about what had happened and to get himself to calm down, as Stu was so good at it.
After what seemed an eternity, Stu slowly brought up his hand to touch his cheek. His eyes were still widened, his gaze still lingering upon John. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out - he was speechless, much like John himself.
John knew he was the one who had to say something though - and he knew what he had to say; a well-meant apologize. He couldn't though. He hated himself for it, was disgusted by how he had been acting towards Stuart because it really wasn't his fault, but something was withholding him from the sorry he had to say. Atop of that, he was starting to feel guilty for hurting someone he'd been befriended with for so long.
Instead he turned his face back to the window, with a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away. John felt truly and well fucked up, and not just because of the things he could blame himself for but also for stronger forces. He realised he probably acted unreasonably angry towards Paul as well, but at least that was part of the problem. Paul was. And John knew it, but refused to acknowledge it.
Stuart was still staring at him, he could feel it, and after some time he finally managed to get at least something out.
''Stu...'' he choked on his words, once again looking back at Stu, nearly crying as he started to talk but refusing to let Stu know. ''I didn't mean to...'' he didn't finish the sentence.
The other boy looked at him; obviously disappointed in him. John wanted to scold himself for always hurting people, both by naming the worst in them and violence. Then Stu took a deep breath.
''It's okay,'' he said quietly. ''You don't have to apologize.''
John smiled at Stu.
''But,'' Stu continued and John could feel his guts drop at hearing it - the tone insinuated Stuart was being drop-dead serious. ''You do have to tell me what's wrong. This is no use, really. Your behaviour and everything, I mean. Something is bloody well bothering you and I'm not going to let you leave this room until you decide you want to tell me what burden you're carrying - or whatever you want to call it.''
''I can't,'' John said frustratedly. ''I don't fucking understand it myself either!''
''But then there is something that's bothering you?'' Stuart asked sneakily, and John cursed him for knowing him quite well after all these years.
''There is,'' he admitted at last with a small voice. ''But I don't want to talk about it.''
''Come on, John,'' Stu walked towards him, swung an arm around his shoulder again and this time John didn't bat it away. He felt defeated, and deflated. His restless mind was slowly remembering everything he'd been so busy repressing past days - even while he didn't really want to. He'd tried to think about Cynthia but didn't change a thing. He'd tried not to think about Paul which had worked slightly but as soon as he didn't have anything to do his mind went straight back to replaying the evening out and the way he'd been feeling. He could feel how his posture changed; he let his shoulders drop, and his head rested against Stu's shoulder - in fact, it was much how they would be soothing each other when they missed home the first two years they were at the institution - only young boys still, back then.
''Do I have to wait forever to get an answer out of you?'' Stuart asked after a while.
''No, not really,'' John answered; he'd made up his mind and he was pretty sure he was able to come up with a final reply.
''Then what is it?'' Stu said.
''It is something I do not want to talk about,'' John replied. ''I really don't.''
''Fucking hell, you're as stubborn as ever,'' Stu said exasperated.
''Can't help it,'' John replied moodily. ''Just, shut up asking questions, alright?''
Stuart sighed. ''Yeah whatever you want, John. I'm just trying to help you, can't you see that?''
''I do,'' John said. ''I just don't want to talk about it, it's not because of you or anything but...''
''Fine!'' Stuart interrupted him, his hands aloft as if to gesture John could stop - he got it. ''What do you want to talk about then?''
''How's Astrid? You've been to see her, right?'' John asked, going on to a very different subject. He liked seeing Stu's lighten up while he was talking about his German love.
''She's great,'' Stu smiled, and as John had expected, his eyes smiled along. ''Are you still jealous because she's so wonderful?'' he said when he saw John smiled only a little bit.
''Nah, I'm happy for you mate, I've told you before,'' he said. Stu didn't know there was a different reason he couldn't smile as much as he used to. Fucking teenage hormones.
''Mind if I go to the loo for a sec?'' Stu said after a couple of minutes of silence - either of them had been lost in their own thoughts. ''I need to check out my cheek, it hurts like fuck,'' he grimaced.
''Go ahead,'' John replied. ''I'm sorry about that, really...''
''Don't feel guilty,'' Stu said while he walked to the bathroom.
Just at the moment when Stu locked the bathroom door behind him, someone knocked on the main door.
''Come in, be my guest,'' John said bored. He already knew it was Terry, probably begging him to go to talk to Paul about his behaviour.
''Hey,'' Terry said as he walked in.
''Hi,'' John greeted him.
''Can you go talk to Paul?'' - well, that was expected.
''No,'' he replied. He wanted to stay in this room for the night, instead of going back to see Paul and actually having to sleep in one room with him. John knew he would have to go back to his own room some time - preferably now really, and otherwise tomorrow, but he could put off the moment for a little while longer, couldn't he?
''Oh...'' Terry looked at him. ''What do you want then?'' he raised an eyebrow and John was pretty sure Terry didn't really need to ask for an answer - the boy knew a scary lot about people just by observing them.
''I'm going to stay here for the night,'' John stated. ''You can go sleep in my bed or whatever you'd like.''
Terry shrugged. ''Fine, but just for tonight.'' He packed some of his belongings, and the moment he walked out of the door, Stuart opened the bathroom door.
''You'll be staying here tonight then?''
John nodded.
''Uh, alright.''
''I thought it would be,'' John winked, and Stu laughed.
''Okay, so what else have you done last week?'' Stu asked, and John told him about Mimi's quirks and Julia's fabulous sense of humour.