Chapter Text
John had just released an album - his first in ten years - and he had even started entertaining the idea of going touring for the first time since 1981. 2020 felt like it would be the year, because it was a nice number. He was 79 years old, but if Paul and Richie could still do all those tours, then John could tour as well.
Except, apparently, he couldn't. Because there was COVID-19. And by the time people started calling it a global pandemic, New York was going into lockdown and John's idea was never to be.
Not being able to leave his home wasn’t exactly new for John. Beatlemania had made it very difficult to go places. Plus, even these days, he didn’t go out often. Still, being told by the government that he had to stay at home made his nine-room apartment and the apartment next door that he also owned and the office downstairs that he also also owned and those two other rooms for staff that he also also also owned feel very cramped, and he suddenly itched to go outside and frolic around.
He paced around while all of his leg joints ached. His tuxedo cat named Macca followed him; Macca always liked to do that because he thought he was a dog.
John sat in front of the TV and watched the news for a while until he worked himself into a panic about how many people were dying.
He hugged Yoko for comfort.
“We’ll be okay,” she said, though the ringing in John’s ears was so loud right now he could barely hear her.
“Do you know what’s happening?” he asked, pressed against her as tight as he could without hurting her. “Everybody in the world’s gonna get this virus and they’re gonna die and we’re locked inside our homes. It’s a fucking dystopia.”
“We’ll be okay,” she repeated.
John brushed his fingers through Yoko’s hair and kissed her. He breathed. Maybe this lockdown was a good thing; less people would die.
John changed the channel, but didn’t turn the TV off; whenever he wasn’t watching something specific, the normal TV remained constantly on. It was a distraction from both the constant ringing in his ears and buzzing in his brain.
He sat up as Macca jumped onto him, meowing and bumping his head into John’s palm. The vibration of his purring was very comforting, and John’s panic soon drifted away.
He picked up his Samsung phone to call the human Macca. Though they often preferred the familiarity of voice calls over video calls or text messages, John needed to see Paul’s face right now, so he did a video call.
“They’ve jailed me,” John said as soon as Paul picked up.
John could see Paul’s nose filling the camera as Paul asked, “they’ve got you in lockdown, have they?”
“Move away from the camera,” John told him. “But yeah, we’re on ‘pause’, they say. Serious interruption to our schedule, too. Me and Yoko had big plans.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Paul teased as he got the camera into a decent position. “I think it’s good though, y’know. I mean, very isolating for some, I’m sure. All those people who I imagine will lose their jobs… But it’s better than getting COVID, right?”
“You aren’t in lockdown, how do you know if it’s any good?”
“Because I just think it’s important that everyone’s safe.”
John heard a sheep bleating in the background, so he asked, “where are you?”
“Oh, on my farm. Y’know, the one in East Sussex. I’m visiting Mary and her kids,” Paul smiled.
“You’d better be careful or you’ll get trapped there.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Paul said. “‘Cept I left Nancy in New York.”
“Oh, so she’s trapped with me. Too bad it’s not you and me trapped together.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Paul sighed in amusement. “Just don’t try to steal my wife while you’re stuck there with her.”
“I’m not George.”
Paul laughed. “Nobody’s George. One of a kind.”
“What’s he up to these days anyway?”
“I don’t really know. I haven't seen him in a few years. He barely even likes to call me, just texts.”
“I know, right? He’s like some kind of hermit,” John accused hypocritically.
“Maybe we should all have a get-together when this is all over.”
“If it ever ends…”
“It’ll end. Just don’t go outside, John. People our age are some of the most at risk.”
“Not me. I’m healthy as a… as an apple that fell off the tree, but then got put in the fridge. But I won’t go outside me fridge.”
“Good, good.”
Macca rubbed his chin on the phone, and meowed at the other Macca.
“Hi, Macca,” Paul waved.
Later, John DuckDuckWent what the COVID restrictions actually were, and discovered he was allowed to go out for solitary exercise. Solitary. He looked at Yoko, who was wheelchair-bound. It wasn’t like she could go out on her own. And even if John spent plenty of time apart from Yoko, he didn’t see the point of exercising if he wasn’t wheeling his wife around with him.
Yes, he wanted to frolic, but… Yoko.
He ranted about this to his wife, who watched him in amusement as he flapped his hands about for emphasis. When his joints ached too badly, he had to lay his hands on his knees instead.
“And it’s ableist that you can’t even go out for fresh air just because you can’t go on your own,” he was saying.
“I don’t want to go out,” Yoko replied. “I don’t want to get sick.”
John softened because Yoko actually understood COVID in that moment. And… she was right, actually. If she went out, she was very much at risk. And so was John, like Paul had said.
“So I’m staying inside with you,” John kissed her.
“Go for a walk,” Yoko told him.
“No,” John pecked her on the lips again while he smirked.
“John…”
“I don’t wanna die.”
The corners of Yoko’s eyes crinkled. Yeah, it was a little amusing. John finally had a good excuse to stay home all day watching telly. His brief desire to break free was diminished by the prospect of round-the-clock guilt-free TV-watching.
John reached for the remote and opened his Plex server.
“Maybe we can try to finish all of One Piece, yeah?” John suggested, already selecting it. Naturally, he never downloaded the dubbed versions of anime.
The next day, Paul called John while John was busy watching the Wolf House and Yoko was having a nap.
“So, I’m in lockdown,” Paul said.
“Ah-huh,” John replied, pausing his movie.
“Trapped on the farm.”
“Ah-huh.”
“It’s a bit shit.”
“At least you’ve got family, hm?”
“Yeah,” Paul sighed.
“I think it’d be much better if all us lads were in lockdown together. We could pretend it was the old days.”
Paul hummed in agreement.
“At least we can call each other,” Paul said. “George still doesn’t pick up, though.”
“Maybe he will once the isolation gets to him.”
“I’m not sure he hasn’t already been isolating himself.”
“I wonder if he even knows about COVID,” John said. “Hold on, I’ll tell him.”
John opened his Signal chat with George, and sent him a voice message saying, “Georgie boy, there’s a deadly plague sweeping the globe. Better lock your women and children inside.”
George almost immediately replied in text, ‘I know what coronavirus is, John’.
John switched back to his video call with Paul.
“Yeah, he knows about it,” John informed his mate.
“About the deadly plague sweeping the globe?” Paul asked.
“Yeah…” John squinted. “How’d you know that’s what I said?”
“Because you were still on the line when you said it?” Paul snickered.
“Oh,” John said, blinking at his phone in marvel about how technology even worked.
There were kid sounds somewhere in the background where Paul was. Paul said, “hold on, my grandkids want me.”
The screen went black, but John noticed the call had not ended, so he intently watched the darkness.
He got to hear Paul talking to his grandkids, which was honestly quite cute.
“Granddude, you gotta be on my team,” one of the kids was saying.
“Oh, I’m not sure I-” Paul began.
“Come on!”
They were muffled sounds of movement, then that kid saying, “they stopped the matches.”
“That’s so none of the players get COVID, y’know,” Paul said. “I’m sure they’ll be starting again.”
“But Liverpool was winning.”
“Of course we’re winning, and we will win,” Paul said enthusiastically. “Y’know, they’ll get a bit more practice in lockdown.”
The phone ended up falling and John could see the grey sky.
John was really quite enjoying this. He made himself a smoothie to continue watching the show.
He occasionally saw the top of Paul’s head, or a ball flying overhead, or one of the kids running by. It was like some avant-garde film where you were expected to fill in the rest of the details yourself.
One of the kids spotted the phone and picked it up. John was pretty sure this one was called Sam.
“Uncle John?” Sam asked.
“Hi, kid,” John grinned.
“Granddude,” Sam tapped Paul.
Paul looked at John. “What are you still doing here?”
“You never hung up,” John said. “So, y’know, thanks for letting me watch you lose a footy match.”
“Alright, bye now,” Paul hung up.
John put the phone down, ready to get back to his other avant-garde film. But somehow, he had lost the remote. He dug his hands around in the couch cracks, trying to find it. Instead, he discovered a very special pen.
“Holy shit, that’s where you got to!” John beamed.
He sucked on the weed vape, and soon felt very comfortable. It had been a few months, and it seemed much needed with all the stress of people dying.
And, like magic, he found the remote under his arse. The movie was suddenly even more enjoyable.
John and Paul regularly called. It was, perhaps, the only thing keeping John sane. Yoko often didn’t know what COVID was which made it sometimes difficult to talk to her during the few hours she was awake, and there was nobody that John could watch from his window anymore. Even with all the shows he was going through, he was really bored. But Paul always found a way to keep him entertained.
“Paul, I’ve had this horrible realisation,” John whined the moment he accepted Paul’s call one day.
He had been in the middle of watching Breaking Bad, but seeing Paul’s name appear on John’s screen had reminded John of what he was avoiding, now that he had someone to complain to.
“What’s happening?” Paul asked.
“Y’know what happened last time I had nothing to do but sit at home getting stoned? I got fat.”
“You didn’t get fat,” Paul said immediately, easily, like he had had to tell this to John many times before.
“I did!” John insisted.
“Even if you did, what’s wrong with that?” Paul asked.
John opened his mouth to answer, but found he could not do so and remain woke.
“Either way, not exercising isn’t healthy, y’know,” John said.
“Aren’t you allowed out for exercise?”
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna go out without Yoko, and we’re only allowed one at a time.”
“Well, can’t you do something at home?”
John gasped as he remembered. “I’ve got a treadmill. Somewhere in our storage apartment. But I don’t know how I’m gonna get that thing out on me own.”
“You don’t have anyone there who can help you?”
“Don’t think it’s allowed. But I’ll give it a shot anyway,” John glanced at the kitchen. “Do you think if I stopped eating-”
“No, John.”
“Whoa, let a man air his thoughts. I’ve got no plates left, you see? So maybe that’s a sign.”
“Why have you got no plates left?”
“Just before we went into lockdown, I let me housekeeper go stay with her family instead ‘cause she asked to, y’know,” John sighed. “One of the top ten worst decisions of me life, probably right after that time I tried to get drunk while I was on heroin. ‘Cause now all me dishes are dirty and I can only eat, y’know, pizza and sushi and shit.”
“Have you tried cleaning the dishes?”
“No. The water’s gross, and me hands will get all pruney-”
“John, show me your hands.”
John glared at the camera. “What’s your obsession with me hands?”
“You have really nice hands, but that’s not the point right now,” Paul said calmly. “Show me your hands.”
John continued glaring while he showed Paul his hands and their many wrinkles.
“See, naturally pruney already,” Paul smiled satisfactorily.
“Which is why I don’t want them more pruney,” John protested. “Y’know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna get someone to go buy me more dishes.”
“John! It’s called Cleaning.”
“Paul! It’s called I Can’t Be Bothered-” John’s realisation of how ridiculous he was being hit him mid-sentence. “Ugh. I guess I can try to figure this out.”
John made his way into the kitchen, where he had stacked up all of the plates and bowls he owned. His eyes landed on the box with the buttons.
“Holy shit, Paul, I forgot I had a dishwasher,” John exclaimed as he waddled over to it.
Paul clapped for him while John put a singular bowl into the dishwasher. John felt a slight bit of success, but when he looked back at the large pile still on the counter, he groaned loudly. The ringing in his ears got louder like some kind of physical manifestation of his stress that made it even more difficult to think.
“Nope. Nope! I cannot be fucked,” John decided, marching away, and breathing in an attempt to chill himself. “I’m just gonna buy more dishes.”
“Until your whole apartment is filled with dirty ones?” Paul asked.
“I can start throwing them out the window. Turn it into a game.”
“If you can throw them out the window, why can’t you put them in the dishwasher?”
“Because that’s different!” John waved an arm around as if to prove his point. “One takes significantly more effort. Y’know, it’s this neurodivergent thing I’ve been learning about. Executive function or whatever the fancy schmancy words are.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Paul said. “Hey, why don’t I stack my dishwasher while you stack yours? And put on a record or something.”
John sighed because that was actually a good idea. So it went that John put In Utero on the record player - he would have gotten lost deciding what music to play if Paul hadn’t reminded him what he was doing - while he and Paul stacked their dishwashers.
“I can’t fit it all,” John said sadly, looking dismally at the half-empty pile, and back to his full dishwasher.
“Maybe tomorrow you can do the next load.”
“Yeah, okay, alright,” John nodded, and went to immediately sit down because his everything hurt.
The ringing had gradually calmed to a low buzz.
“Good job us,” Paul smiled.
“We just filled a dishwasher, Paul, not like we had to get on our hands and knees and scrub. It’s not that hard,” John rolled his eyes, even if he secretly felt proud and knew Paul knew it.
“So, I was ringing to tell you that Mary’s kids are using something called Zoom to go to school,” Paul said after a moment.
“What is that, a drug?” John asked.
“No, it’s a fancy thing for video calls.”
“Then why the fuck’s it called ‘Zoom’?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Well, if it’s not a drug, why are you telling me this?”
“I thought we could try it out,” Paul said. “Y’know, maybe we could do a call with the lads.”
“Alright, you figure it out, and we’ll do it,” John said.
John looked at his bony hand and the saggy skin while he hummed along to Pennroyal Tea.
“For the record, I don’t usually care about me weight anymore,” John confessed. “But when I’m stressed, it just, y’know… I wanna control something.”
“I know, John,” Paul said gently.
“I’ve got all these bugs in me brain that don’t seem to be growing old and dying,” John murmured. “This thing, drugs, me temper, horniness, y’know.” And with a laugh he added, “not that I care about defeating me sex drive anymore.”
Paul nodded. “You’re always getting better, though, and that’s great.”
John inhaled deeply and let it all out. He pulled his weed vape out of his pocket but just looked at it.
“Hey, you’ve gotta help me figure out what song to do for this concert thingymajig I’m doing,” John said as he turned back to his phone.
“You’re doing a concert? In the middle of lockdown?”
“I video meself or something. It’s to lift people’s spirits.”
“Oh, alright. I’m excited for you,” Paul smiled. “You haven’t performed live since, what, Live Aid with me?”
“No, last time was when I was bored in 2014 and decided to perform at a random bar. Pulled quite the crowd, but I’m not sure how many thought I was any old man.”
“People really don’t recognise you anymore? They recognise me.”
“Not as much as they used to ‘cause I’m not doing much, y’know. I think it’s great, really. Peace and quiet,” John explained. “But I’m doing this concert thing ‘cause Elton John asked me to and we’re mates. And, y’know, before all this, I was thinking about touring.”
Paul’s eyebrows shot up and his smile widened. “You were? That’s great! I think you should, when this is all over.”
“I dunno, feels ridiculous now. I’m very happy to stay home and watch anime,” John said. “But I still dig the idea of giving people a little show.”
“Would you do one of your new songs for this then?” Paul suggested. “Or, better do something people know, right? What about a Beatles song? Like Lady Madonna?”
“What about no?” John said. “What about one of me songs from the 80s, like, uh, Free As A Bird? That’s about being home.”
“That might be a good idea,” Paul said. “Or, what about one of your hits?”
“I was thinking about Whatever Gets You Thru The Night, but I did that one last time I performed with Elton. I mean, I’m not technically performing with him this time, but y’know.”
“What about Watching The Wheels? That’s a hit that’s about staying home.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”
The next day, John emptied and filled the dishwasher on call with Paul, and the next day he figured out his washing machine. Maybe another day he would figure out how to hoover the floors and clean the benches he had never realised could get so dirty so quickly. He felt he was a bit old to be learning this kind of thing, not to mention it was physically painful, but what else was he supposed to do?
Mostly, John felt he was quite content to sit within his own mess and he rarely noticed it. But Yoko wasn’t very comfortable in their mess, so that inspired him to clean a little more. And when he was knackered, he had a long nap.
What he didn’t do was try to find that treadmill. He simply couldn’t be bothered. He was getting enough exercise wearing himself out by cleaning up after himself.
When it came time to record himself for the iHeart Living Room Concert for America, John shoved out all of the mess from his studio, and spent a week dodging it in the corridor.
He didn’t have quite so much stage fright when there was nobody to actually perform to besides Yoko. Although that in itself felt strange, it wasn’t so different from what he had been doing with himself for years.
He tried not to feel horrible when he couldn’t hit the high notes. He hadn’t really had to deal with that much before, because his newer music matched his vocal range, and he usually only sang his old stuff to himself. It was indeed uncomfortable. But, he managed to switch the song up to fit his range so it would sound decent.
He so badly wanted to overdub with his younger vocals, and do whatever weird things to his voice so he didn’t hate it so much - he certainly wouldn’t use autotune for its intended purpose lest he feel like a complete failure and a sellout, but he had experimented with it a bit in the past to make his voice sound cool and robotic. But, the point of the concert was, apparently, to be as authentic as possible so people would feel less alone. So he simply had to suffer with his natural vocals.
Both Yoko and Paul told John that he sounded good. So he sent it off to Elton and comforted himself with the fact that he was helping people by making them happy. And it wasn’t always shiny, polished art that made people happy; sometimes it was the exact opposite.
So there, the world knew John Lennon was still alive, and in lockdown like everyone else. It had been kind of fun to get out there again, in whatever warped way it was.