Stop Crying Your Heart Out - McLennon AU

6.

12th April, 1963

Paul knew he had to talk to John about the phone call he'd had three hours previously, but he didn't want to upset him. The man who was standing next to him, pushing the pram down the pavement seemed happy. Happier than before anyway.

The sky was sunny with a few clouds, a light breeze running through the air. They were now closer to the shop, it was just a few streets away.

"John?" Paul asked, just going for it.

"Hm?"

"I know you got that letter from work." He said, without hesitation.

"What?" John turned to look at him.

"I-I read that letter you got from work, I found it appalling."

"What? Why did you read my letter?" He asked, seeming kind of offended. "It's mine, John Lennon's."

Oh god

"It wasn't in the envelope, it was just lyin' around, John."

"Still. It's none of your business." He seemed more agitated at this point. "They're my money problems, not yours. You don't need to get involved."

"Oh, alright then." Paul spoke back in the same cocky tone he received. "But tell me, what did they tell you when you called that number at the bottom of the paper?" He asked, knowing what John's answer would be.

"Uh..."

"You didn't call it, did you?" Paul said, accusingly. He continued when there was no answer from the other man, who just turned his eyes back onto Julian. "Exactly. I knew you wouldn't have."

"I was busy." He shrugged.

"Maybe you were, but I know that you wouldn't call it anyway. So... I called it for you."

"You fuckin' did what?" Johns eyes widened in anger.

"I called it, and I demand they give you maternity pay."

"What made you think that was a good idea?!" He seemed way more pissed of than before now, even stopping to stare Paul down.

But the younger man wasn't going to give in, he knew he'd done the right thing.

"The fact that in three weeks, you stop getting payed, John. You have no money coming into your bank account, therefore no money to pay for the house, to buy things for Julian, to buy food." Paul looked back at him. "John, you're going to need all the money you can get at the moment, and just throwing that letter on the floor like it's nothin' doesn't help the situation!"

"Fine. Okay then, what did they say when you called them? Hm?" John folded his arms, scowling at the man infront. "Did they tell you that they weren't going to pay me? Did they?"

"Yes." He sighed, knowing he was losing the second argument of the day.

"Exactly! There was no point in ringing that number because they were just going to say the exact same thing as what they said in the letter!"

"Except they didn't!"

"What did they say then?" He demanded an answer.

Paul sighed, knowing that John wasn't going to take this well.

"They told me about some... Some government plans, and told me that you are entitled to claim some." He purposely avoided the word, but John understood immediately.

The older man scoffed at Paul's reply, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Benefits?"

"John-"

"Benefits? Yes or no, Paul?" John was furious by this point.

"Yes." Paul sighed.

"Oh my god."

"No, John, that's what I thought at first, but then after a while, I realised that it's okay to need extra help. You're a single father, for god sake! It's what's best for you..."

"No. You don't know what's best for me, nor do you care." He spat, not being able to hold his thoughts back.

Paul was taken aback.

"What?" He asked, trying not to be offended at the statement.

He's not thinking properly...

"You just stand there and pretend you care. But now I'm gonna have to go back into work whenever I decide to and everyone is going to fuckin' look at me and- and say 'oh look, there's that unstable piece of shit, who's wife died and is now claiming benefits'!" John almost yelled. "You know, once I'm done here, you're just going to waltz back home to your big, 3 bedroom house with Jane and sit watching your massive TV. Because you aren't strugglin' with money, you don't have a baby to raise on your own. You have a great job. And instead you go and get involved in my money problems."

"John-"

"No, Paul. I'm fucking sick of it. All this pity of people ringin' me up and thinkin' they know what's best for me or my son." He shook his head in annoyance, clutching back onto the pram and beginning to walk. "Just fuck off back to your girlfriend and your stupid school job and leave us alone."

And with that, he left a worried Paul behind, carrying on ahead.