The Fab Four

by Eagle

Two of Us

Helicopters are some of the most difficult machines to operate. It’s not like a plane where you can cruise in a straight line for the most part, there is much more to it than that; such as stopping, sliding and turning left and right. Bad weather only makes it more difficult, which makes England a bad place for these flying machines. Add in the darkness of night and you have all the factors that came together to contribute to the death of a famous musician.

All in all, you can never truly tell where someone will go when they pass on. You also can’t tell what it will be like. Could be this place or that, fast or slow. In Sir McCartney’s case, there was no idea where; as to how, it was instant. A quick shut of the eyes, and it was like falling asleep after a long day.

“Paul.”

And who wakes someone up at this time of the day, anyways?

“Paul, is that you?”

Of course it was him; who else would it be.

“Paul, what are you doin’ in my dream,” the voice echoed. “Paul, wake up!”

His dream? Obviously whoever was talking to him was dense. Maybe some loon of a fan broke in while high on drugs. But there was something familiar about the voice though; like that of one he had not heard in years, decades even. The best way to solve this was to open his eyes and find out.

“Bah, what?”

Paul opened his eyes slowly and was confronted by a familiar face, as well as a thick forest.

“John!?”

“That’s me,” Lennon replied. “Now are you going to answer my question or not?”

“Q-question?”

“Yea, what are you doing in my dream?”

“Dream? No, no this can’t be your dream; it’s got to be mine,” Paul stuttered out, standing up.

“What do you mean it can’t be mine? Course it’s mine!”

“No, John you’re dead!” Paul blurted out, rather bluntly.

“Dead? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As in no longer living, John,” Paul said. “Don’t you remember? New York, 1980, you got shot?”

“Shot? That’s ridiculous,” John replied, brushing off the claim. “Who in the world would want to shoot me?”

“A crazy man.”

“Well obviously; but what did I do to him? Did I make him crazy?”

“I don’t know, John; but he really did shoot you all the same!” Paul explained, moving close to make a point.

“Well, who’s to say you’re the one who died?” John asked, crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Maybe you died and your ghost is haunting my dream.”

“But…how would-”

“Is there anything you remember?”

Paul stopped to think, walking back and forth on the leave-covered floor of the forest.

“Ok, I do remember being in a heli, in some bad weather, and somethin’ about the pilot having trouble…I guess, maybe I crashed?”

“Well, maybe that’s it,” John said, shrugging his shoulders as he did so.

“Ok, I’ve tried to remember; but I know you died before me,” Paul said, moving his arms back and forth as if to add to the seriousness. “Think; it happened at the Dakota.”

“The Dakota? Yea, I remember something happenin’. When did you say it was?”

“December, 1980.”

John put his hand on his chin, his expression becoming very worried.

“Yea, I suppose something happened…somewhere.”

“So there’s just as good a chance you’re in my dream.”

“Right…oh bloody…oh no.”

John staggered a bit before sitting on top of a fallen log.

“That means on of us has to be dead,” he said. “We can’t both be in the same dream, can we?”

“I don’t think so, Johnny,” Paul said, taking a seat next to him. “Worst case scenario is that we’re both dead.”

“That’s not much better.”

The two sat there, starring at the ground and fretting over which of the two was a ghost.

“Oi, wait! How could I forget!?” John said, hopping up and jogging over to a thick cluster of trees and shrubs. “I knew there must’ve been a reason this was here!”

“John what are you goin’ on ab-my Höfner!”

Paul’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. In John’s right hand was his favorite bass, a rare Höfner 500/1. The other one held an acoustic guitar for Lennon himself. In a flash, all his worries evaporated for a minute.

“Aye, and it looks to be in good shape, too,” John said, handing it over and taking his seat. “I don’t know why I didn’t immediately think of you when I saw it.”

“At least we’ve got something to keep us busy,” Paul said gleefully, strumming each of the strings in a test.

“Yea,” John agreed. “So…your little crash, what year was that?”

“2013.”

“You certainly lasted a long time.”

“Well, you were sorta…cheated,” Paul said, choosing his words carefully.

“Possibly cheated,” John corrected him.

“Right,” Paul sighed. “John, honestly, if either of us or dead-”

“Or both of us,” John corrected him.

“Right, or both of us, I’m glad you’re here,” Paul said. “Dead or not, I’m glad to talk to an old friend again.”

“Here here,” John agreed.

“I really did feel bad y’know; never even got to say goodbye.”

“What say we leave the sob stories for later,” John said, strumming out a few notes.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Paul, have you noticed that you’re younger?” John asked, looking back to him. “You look like you popped out of 1969.”

“What, why didn’t you tell me that earlier!?” Paul exclaimed, jumping up and looking over himself. “And my clothes, when did these get on me!?”

“I thought you were a dream, remember?” John said, standing up as well.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you!”

“Wha-you mean I’m young, too!?”

“Yea, same as me; some time in the late 60s.”

“Well I’ll be,” John said. “Hey, try your voice!”

“Two-Two…offff ussss. Blimey, even that’s gone backwards!” Paul exclaimed.

“You act like that’s a bad thing!” John said happily. “Now come on, let’s explore a little. Turning back into your younger self with an old friend is an once-in-a-lifetime adventure!”

“Explore? Where are we supposed to even start, John?”

“That little path, obviously; seeing as how it’s the only one here.”

“Alright then, explorers we are,” Paul sighed.

“Oh now come on Columbus, this could be fun,” John said, starting down the small dirt trail. “Besides, you gave me an idea of how to pass the time!”

---

“Angel, how many times has momma asked you not to run off into the woods?” Fluttershy asked the bunny as the two walked back towards the forest trail. “Do you know what kind of animals could be running around in here? They could eat you up if you weren’t careful!”

The bunny simply rolled his eyes and shook his head, indicating ‘no’. Though he did know what was in here, as he had done this plenty of times before, it would probably be easier to just act like he still didn’t know. It was easier than saying ‘yes’ and having to explain going in anyways.

“There’s tons of kinds that could eat you,” Fluttershy explained as they neared the path. “There’s the manticores, and the timberwolves, and the-”

“-Riding somewhere,
Spending someone’s,
Hard earned pay.”

“John, knock it off!” a voice from a short ways down the trail ordered.

“Eep!”

Fluttershy instinctively dove into a nearby bush, dragging Angel with her. Though she probably did not have to be this skittish, it might have been better for her to hide this time. With her eyes fixed on the road from her hiding place; she was presented with two odd, bi-pedal creatures walking down the road.

“I’ve…never seen anything quite like that before,” she whispered.

“Two of us sending postcards,
Writing letters,
On my wall.”

“Come on, John!” one of them pleaded.

“Paul, don’t tell me you’ve lost your singing spirit!” the other said. “Who’dve thought; the great Paul McCartney, losing the love of song!”

“Oh, now you’re just being cruel!” he laughed.

“Well then sing; Mr. Golden Voice,” the first one chuckled. “Or did you just forget this one.”

“Alright, from the top then,” the second one replied. “One, two, three.”

The two continued down the road and out of sight, finishing their song. Out of all the animals she had taken care of, Fluttershy had never seen any quite so strange. She also had to admit that she had never heard music quite like that before. Of course, Equestria had music; but, there was nothing quite like that.

Quietly crawling out of her hiding spot and onto the road, she did what any sensible pony would do in this situation; she followed them. Of course, she kept her distance and did not utter a single noise; she still had no idea what these things were. Hopefully, they were nice, which they seemed to be at first glance. Normally she would just go straight home, but something told her to keep an eye on them; they were going in the direction of her cottage anyways.

Author's Note:

I miss John and George...

Anyways, thanks fore reading! Please leave a comment to give some feedback; it's always useful.

Comments

[SuperPinkBrony12]

I miss John and George...

All of us do.

[Paddle Steamer]

“That means on of us has to be dead,” he said.

one*

So far so good, I don't see why the dislikes. I'll find out if the next chapter is the bunker buster or not I guess.

Now someone just has to do a Sabaton in Equestria fic.