September 21, 1964. London Airport, England.

[peter_brown64]

I had driven up to the airport to pick Brian up. I was going to happily bring him home and get him unpacked and drunk. Probably help him into a nice hot bath. He would need something of that sort after being with that lot on tour the whole time. I was feeling much better about not having been able to go on tour. I'd made it through security and

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[mr_b_epstein]

After everything I'd just been through, both on the plane and in America, it was a blessed relief to see Peter waiting for me, with open arms, no less. I fell into them, for once not caring what anyone else would make of it.

"Peter, you've no idea how good it is to see you." I said, well aware of how strained my voice sounded. I was probably still pale too, a complete mess. I could only imagine what assumptions Peter was making about what had gone on.

[peter_brown64]

He did look a mess. Tired, pale, over stressed. I could see it all written out over his face. I hugged him tightly and clapped him on the back a few times.

"Are you all right? Here come with me, let's get you in a car and bring you home. You look terribly tired, a little pale even," I brushed the back of my hand against his forehead.

"Are you sick?" I helped him grab up his bags and we headed out to the parking area through a secure walkway. Bypassing all of the madness of the Beatles' fans outside the airport.

[mr_b_epstein]

Normally, I'd make sure to see the boys through security, settled in their respective cars, before even thinking of leaving. But I couldn't face John or Paul, and being around George just made me remember our last night in the hotel. I would have a complete and utter breakdown if I stayed with these boys even a moment longer, so I let Peter lead me out of the airport without complaint.

I laughed bitterly at his questions, stowing my luggage in his trunk. I paused, leaning against the car for a moment as I rubbed my hands hard over my face, trying not to think of Paul and John...

"I'm most certainly not alright, Peter." I said quietly. "The farthest thing from it, to be perfectly honest."

[peter_brown64]

My eyes widened as I listened to him and I opened the passengerside door. I wanted to get him home as quickly as possible. He looked done in.

"What's wrong?" I hadn't seen him this withdrawn for awhile. I couldn't help but feel a little bit worried.

[mr_b_epstein]

I waited until he'd gotten into the drivers seat before saying, "Everything. Everything is wrong, and I daresay it shall never be right again."

I was being overdramatic, but it had all gotten to be too much. First George, and then I made a complete fool of myself with John...I felt I was rather justified in my overdramatics.

[peter_brown64]

I didn't know what to say and I was horribly shocked. What could possibly have gone wrong? Unless something with the boys, with George? I knew that it hadn't worked out so well, but I hadn't expected him to come home in this shape.

"You must tell me. I can't help you if you don't tell me, Brian!"

[mr_b_epstein]

"It's beyond help." I said, covering my face with my hands.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. If only I'd taken him seriously when he'd come to me after my party. He'd tried to tell me about John and Paul, and I...I'd let John lie to me, and I'd been quite angry with Peter.

"You were right." I said quietly. "You were right the entire damned time, and I wouldn't listen. I am a fool."

I wasn't making much sense, but I somehow hoped he would just know what I meant, so I wouldn't have to remember the pair of them on the plane, John's hands tangled in Paul's hair as their lips met...

I blinked back tears, swallowing hard as pain washed over me again. This was the worst thing that could have happened.

[peter_brown64]

I watched him and my eyes only got a little wider, my eyebrow raising slightly.

"What are you on about? I think you need some serious rest and a good brandy. Perhaps even a warm milk? I'll take care of everything tonight, Brian. Don't worry about a thing," I drove away from the airport and out into the city.

"Tell me what's happened."

[mr_b_epstein]

If I wasn't so upset, I would have shouted at him for being so patronising. He probably didn't mean to be, but still.

"On the plane..." I said slowly, nearly choking as the memory rose up behind my eyes once more. "I-I saw John...he...he and Paul..."

My voice trailed away, and I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to stop myself thinking of it.

[peter_brown64]

I could already guess what he was saying and I reached out to grab his hand. I gave him a light squeeze and sighed. I didn't know what to say and rain began to softly fall against the windshield.

"I'm sorry," I spoke softly and stroked the back of his hand. "I didn't want to be right about it, I really didn't."

[mr_b_epstein]

I clutched his hand tightly, closing my eyes. Thank goodness he hadn't made me say it...hadn't made me verablize the memory that kept assualting me.

"And George...George wouldn't have me either. He...he doesn't want me anymore." I whispered. "He doesn't want me, John doesn't want me...no one wants me. I shall die alone in my flat, save for several oversize felines, no doubt."

And that thought was so horribly depressing I rather considered flinging myself out of Peter's car.

[peter_brown64]

I shook my head and thought it best to try for levity.

"No, no. Brian, you know I would never let you buy cats. You don't even like cats for one. You're better off with fish. That way no one can accuse you of anything, not even yourself," he was going to take this so badly. A dream he'd been living off of for the past two whole years had just been crushed.

I had no idea how I would fix this.

[mr_b_epstein]

I laughed weakly, trying to at least sound amused. I failed miserably.

"Peter, I...I have been such a fool. He must have been laughing at me..."

John could be exceedingly cruel. I suddenly thought of them in my bed, John snickering as he fucked Paul on my sheets.

"Oh, Peter...in my bed too. They-they fucked in my bed. They must have been laughing at me the entire time, and then they came out and looked me in the face and smiled and..."

My voice broke off with a little gasp. How could this happen?

[peter_brown64]

I winced slightly and I didn't want to think about the two Beatles in bed right now. It might give me a bad times hard on and explaing, or dealing with that right now would be really too much. I bit down on my lip and shook my head.

"I don't think it was like that...how do you know Paul even know anything about you and John? Hmm? He wouldn't be laughing and I'm sure John wouldn't want Paul knowing, so he was probably too nervous to laugh," somehow I didn't think this was helping at all.

[mr_b_epstein]

I let out a little indignant shriek. If this was his idea of comfort, I might as well resign myself to being an emotional wreck till the end of my days.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Peter." I said coldly. "I'm absolutely heartbroken, and you're making jokes. Really, it's hardly comforting."

[peter_brown64]

I felt horrified.

"No! No, I don't find it amusing. Please, believe me...I sounded so awful, but really Brian I don't mean it that way. I was just...trying to reassure you," it wouldn't work. Nothing ever did when he got like this really.

"You're not the sort of person people laugh at. But listen, lets take you home. Get you bathed, fed, and a nice brandy in you. All right?"