Revival
by Kelonzi

John slept well into the midmorning. It was fitful, but at least it was sleep. Still, just when Kara thought he was resting peacefully, he began to twitch and mutter all over again. She knew he had to be dreaming. Whatever the subject, it was scaring him terribly and with each moan her guilt only increased. They had talked and he had repeatedly told her not to feel badly, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't supposed to have happened. If only she had been more careful... if only she'd pulled the plug on Andrea's scheme way back when she came back with those supplies from her warlock buddy... what was his name again? Ah well. Whoever he was, his spell had certainly done it's work. How, she didn't know.

Which brought up her other train of thought. She still wasn't certain how the spell had worked. Seeing what John was going through now, though, she was more than willing to bet it had taken a strong toll on both his body and mind. Those weren't regular magics. If reincarnation was so commonplace, Kara imagined lots of people would have used the spell by now. What Dree was dealing in was dark, dangerous and sinister.

"Mum..." His voice rose above a mumble just long enough so that she could distinguish a few words. "Come back..."

Tears threatened as Kara glanced over at the clock. Why, Dree? Why'd you do this? And why did you leave me to clean up the mess?! Her eyes strayed to her hands. They were visibly shaking by this point, so she knew she needed sleep and now. John would be alright, wouldn't he? He would probably sleep away the rest of the day anyway. Gathering up her jacket and shoes, Kara walked out into the chill Wednesday morning. I wonder what's going on in his mind? She shuddered.

* * * * *


"Where am I?" John felt around in the darkness, searching for something to hold on to; to tell him where he was.

You're lost. Confused and alone.

"What if I am?"

.. wondering why this was allowed to happen to you.

John nodded his head, a gesture he realized, too late, this person, or whatever it was, wouldn't be able to see. So he raised his voice shakily. "Yes."

Humans have free will..... The voice of the unseen person sighed. While this event could not have been prevented, all is not lost.

This comment put John on edge. "How can you say that?!" He felt a lump forming in his throat. "I should be freakin' dead! Things can't get much more lost than that!"

Perhaps you think you should be dead, but the fact remains that you are very much alive now. Nothing can change what happened to you, but you can still serve a purpose with your new lease on life.

A white light appeared far away and John reflected for a moment at the hokiness. "The light at the end of the tunnel, right?"

John, before you died, the voice continued, you were making a difference by touching people's lives through your words and songs. You can do that again if you're willing to push aside the pain... help a world that's not unlike the one you left. Hurting, war-torn....

"How?"

John was shocked to hear his own voice respond to him. ... give peace a chance...

* * * * *


"What?" John awoke, thrashing on the couch. Whoever that voice was, he was gone now...

Glancing around, John realized he was alone in the shed. Bird must've gone off to get some rest. He smirked. Wonder how long she stayed up? He picked up a magazine, intent on doing a little more reading until his host appeared again.

"'Ex-Security Officer Confesses to Seeing John Lennon in his bowl of Chex'..." John tossed the tabloid aside with a deep sigh. This was becoming too much to handle. Too much to take in all at one time. Even a rag article about some loony was getting under his skin, and that sort of thing had never happened before. He had to get out. Find some place to be alone---

Kara's desk sat illuminated in the orange rays of sunrise. There, to the left of the telephone sat his salvation- the Yellow Pages. Gotta get away from Kara an' this place... these memories... an' dreams of strange, disembodied voices tellin' me what ta do. He called the first hotel his wandering fingers came across.

* * * * *


Kara knocked on room number B9, jamming her hands in her pockets uncomfortably. It had been quite a trip, and if this was a dead end, she would have wasted a heck of a lot of time at some random Sleep Inn across town.

She was accepting of the fact that John needed a place to crash, but that didn't mean she was about to let him out of her life. They were stuck together now with a major problem to solve-- his reappearance. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, John Lennon was still dead and buried. Had been since 1980. They had no reason to suspect he would just show up again one day. Kara and John had to come up with a viable excuse for this situation.

The door swung open and John yelped with surprise. "Christ!" He pulled her inside and slammed the door shut before anyone could see him. "Ah checked in 'ere in disguise... you wanna blow it?" He sighed and collapsed on his bed, heart still racing. "Sorry. Just harder ta keep ta myself than Ah thought it would be 'ere. The maids... the guy at the front desk...." He sat up quickly. "How did you find me?"

Chuckling, Kara replied with a question. "Did you underline things in your own phone book when you were alive?... Well, the first time, I mean..." She added.

"A'course. More convenient. Ya don't loose yer place on thah page an'--" John realized exactly what he was saying. "Damn. Ah'm a real moron."

"It makes sense." Kara grinned. "You've just forgotten how best to cover your tracks. It's completely understandable that you'd be a bit out of practice. Not like you had to be very covert in the great beyond."

John corrected her without a second thought, "Ya'd be surprised."

Kara raised her eyebrows in a 'you've got to be kidding me' look.

He sighed. Movin' on before Ah 'ave to explain THAT one... "Ah didn't want ta drag you inta what comes next."

"What comes next?"

"Broodin' until Ah decide what comes next." The statement sounded like a joke, but carried no hint of mirth in it. He was seriously depressed. It didn't take Sigmund Freud to figure that out.

"While you're making up your mind, would you like to see a concert with me tonight?"

It was John's turn for the 'you've got to be kidding me' look. "What 'appened ta keepin' my profile low?" What the 'ell is she plannin'?

"W-well... slap a hat on your head, some sunglasses--" Kara spluttered.

Yeah. She's plannin' somethin' alright... He sighed. Oh well. What else was there to loose, anyway? "Eight o'clock show?"

Kara nodded.

Silence held sway until John finally broke it. "Is there more to this than yah simply wantin' to say to yer friends that the two of us went out on a date?" He'd meant it as a joke, but the words had come out harsher than intended. It was the same thing that had plagued him his whole life. Being misinterpreted was as routine now as it was then. Kara balked a little, showing John that he'd done "it" again. Talk about pickin' up where ya left off.. "Ah mean..." He sighed loudly. "Ah'll come along."

"Great." Kara averted her eyes to the floor. "But you were right about one thing, John. I have something else on my mind. Andrea. She hasn't been... I mean... I haven't... usually we.... Damnit." She took a deep breath. "Dree's run away from home."

John closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Bleedin' hell.

"She left a message on my voicemail." Kara continued. "Seemed to indicate this concert would be her next stop. Of course she was so irrational that for all I know, she's hanging out at the local Seven Eleven right now, but---"

"Where is it?" John cut her off.

Now she really hesitated. "Radio City Music Hall. In the city. I know it's a bit of a haul, but try to understand that I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important." Pause. "And wouldn't you say it's better than sitting around here, staring at the walls?"

She got ya there. "Well, then. We should get goin'." He grabbed his jacket and hat, both bought hastily that first morning after leaving Kara's. Neither fit well, but at $5 he wasn't going to be picky. Especially if that $5 was a large chunk of what he owned-- $100. When he checked his pants pocket all he'd come up with was a hundred dollar bill-- the exact sum he'd had on him when he'd died. Ya coulda at least given me a bit more spendin' money before bein' kicked out of paradise! He chuckled, eyes cast upwards for a moment.

"What's so funny?"

"You 'ave money on ya, I 'ope?"

Kara patted her shoulder bag. "Last three week's worth of wages from the Acoustic Club. Plus the roughly $50 bucks dad gave me just in case I wanted to go out with friends on Spring Break. All told, it's probably enough to get into the city and back again."

"One last question, then. Thinkin' on it, Ah probably should 'ave asked this part first, but who are we gonna see?"

She pulled a crumpled piece of newspaper from her jacket pocket and placed it in John's hands.

"What?! NO! No way! Ah can't... Ah won't do this! Didn't ya 'ear a word Ah said 'bout the past? 'Ow it should stay buried---"

"Well, you didn't." Kara strode out the door.

"Fresh little.." John mumbled, then raised his voice as he took off after her. "Ha ha. Very funny, that is. Now wait up!"

* * * * *


The Greyhound bus bounced hard, nearly knocking Kara and John from their seats.

"Yeah. This is my idea of fun.. minus the 'fun' part." John rubbed his neck. Multiple hours' travel on the state highway was really doing a number on his spine. "Don't suppose ya know thah number of a good Chiropractor?"

Kara grunted in frustration as the tip of her pencil broke off on the search-a-word she had been working on since leaving the bus station back home. "Rene's dad has a private practice. Tell you what-- we make it through the next 24 hours and I'll line you up a month's worth of free sessions."

John nodded. "Sounds good ta me. An' b'lieve me, Ah'm gonna 'old ya to that invitation." Making it through the next day really was going to be a trick. He didn't want to put his identitiy on the line, but Kara's friend was in trouble. Finding Andrea was Kara's priority and, out of loyalty to her, he made it his top priority as well. The plan was to get her to come back home with them, and then---- "Ah wish ya'd told me right up front that this was one of Macca's concerts!" John hissed under his breath so as not to alert the other fifty or so passengers. "What if Ah run inta 'im?

"In a theater with thousands upon thousands of screaming fans? To quote you, "not bloody likely"," She thought over the amount of sense her previous statement made, then quickly added, "to happen..."

"Still----"

"Listen. If this works right, accidently running into Paul should be the least of our problems."

John turned back to the window in frustration. "It's thah 'if' part that worries me."

* * * * *


Kara edged around the corner to find herself face to face with a long row of dressing rooms.

"Backstage. Just when Ah thought this couldn't get any worse." John griped. "Don't even think about goin' farther back there, ya 'ear me?" He barked.

"You're not my dad." Kara set her jaw, growing sick of being verbally assaulted time and again. Even if he was John Lennon! "And how else are we supposed to get inside?! It's not like we have tickets. Besides, we're already through the backstage door-- would you have us turn back now? I can guarantee that turning on our heels and retracing our steps will get us caught even faster. You saw the growing security force back there!"

John nodded his head begrudgingly. He hated to admit it, but she was probably right.

"Now just try and keep your head low. If anyone asks, we're with the roadies..." Kara bent her head down and started walking.

They hadn't gotten far, however, when she slammed headlong into-- "Jess!"

A girl with raven black hair bundled up under a Yankees baseball cap raised her fists in a defensive stance. "I know Judo, and don't think I won't use it---" She rolled up the sleeves of her Adidas jacket, prepared to do battle, but trailed off when she realized exactly who had spoken her name. "Kara?" Her hands dropped to her sides. "God! Don't do that to me!"

The two girls met in a hug, laughing shakily. They were both still breathless from crashing into each other.

"Been a while." Kara pulled away after a moment.

"Only two months, girl! Not like I fell off the face of the Earth! Just interning here in the city---"

"For the entire SPRING! How much longer are you here anyway?"

"Through Paul McCartney's concert. Then I'm free."

Kara looked immeasurably happy at the news. "Glad to hear it. Things haven't been the same without you."

John watched the proceedings with amusement, as well as a touch of nostalgia. He could relate to their tight rapport. Nothing compared to close friends, as he could attest. Before the insanity of Beatlemania and the later years when finances at Apple had strained everything, John considered George, Ringo, and especially Paul his best mates in all the world. When the 80's rolled around, the four of them had started to return to the way things had been... then he'd lost his life and their plans for reunion had been effectively shat upon.

Belonging to a close knit group was an unparalleled feeling. As he looked around the backstage corridor, faintly able to make out Paul's warm-up above, he realized slowly just how much he missed that feeling. So acute was his sudden desire to belong again, that a small part of his brain began to secretly hope that they might just bump into Paulie.

"Yoo-hoo?" Kara's voice broke through John's haze. "John?"

"Sorry again." He blushed slightly at being caught in dreamland for the nearly dozenth time in two days. "What were you two sayin'?"

"Well," Kara adopted a bit of a patronizing tone that caused John to bristle, "I was only introducing you to my friend, Jess. What were you thinking about?"

John brushed her query aside, "Nothin' important."

"Let's try this again... John, this is my friend Jessica Shaw. Jess, this is---" Kara began her introductions all over again.

"Whoa." Jess exclaimed as she took his hand. "Anyone ever told you, sir, that you look exactly like an older version of---"

"-- John Lennon?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, that would work out well... seein' as 'ow Ah am 'im."

Jess whirled to Kara in confusion. "Is he serious?"

"Quite." Kara related the tale of Andrea and her magic spell that had gone horribly awry. Usually Dree's spells were harmless, but this time one of her harebrained schemes had gone horribly right.

By the end of the story, Jess' jaw was hanging down in shock. "So.. y-you've brought John here to see Paul?"

John shook a quick 'no' with his head and Kara offered an explanation. "Not exactly. John isn't quite sure how to 'break the news' yet. Hense, the plan is more one of avoidance than being all "one-on-one confrontation-ey"." Kara falteringly explained. "Who we are looking for is Andrea. She left after the spell went wrong... said something about heading down to the city to see her friend at 'The McCartney Blowout'...."

"And you're sure she's here? Andrea says crazy things all the time. Especially after a flare up of magic, though."

"Well, she hasn't answered her cell phone... hasn't been home, according to her mom..."

"Damn. Our favorite drifter strikes again." Jess reached into her pocket as her pager went off. Reading the screen, her eyes went wide.

A disturbance down the hall occurred at almost the same time, putting all three on high alert.

"It's the security boys! And they have Paul with them according to this." Jess' index finger hovered over the letters that read 'PAUL COMING.. CLEAR WAY..'. "Move!" Her eyes were wide with panic, realizing how important it was to hide John, not to mention do her job. Getting fired on the last day wouldn't look very good on the work transcripts.

With one mighty shove, Kara and John went flying into a side room. Glancing around, Jess leaned her bodyweight back against the metal door and played with the frayed ends of her jeans shorts.

"'Ello!" A good-natured scouse accent caused Jess' head to rocket up. She smiled as Paul and his security team passed by. "'Ow's it goin', luv?"

Jess felt her heart race a bit. First, she was still flushed from her rush to hide Kara and John, and second... Paul McCartney had just said hello to her! She wasn't usually a gawking fan, but she defied anyone to not melt in his presence. "It's great, sir! Have a good show!"

As Paul vanished from view, Jess got back on her feet and worked the knob. "You guys have no idea how close that was." She muttered just loud enough so that the two on the other side of the door could hear her.

* * * * *


"I hope you're happy. I could loose my job over this!" Jess said as she walked in and closed the door behind her. "And just when I thought I could get somewhere in the industry..."

Kara sighed. Jess had the bottom line firmly in mind once again. Of her friends, Jess was hands down, the most money-minded. "I thought this was your last day anyway!"

"Really?" John's attention, however, was piqued at the mention of the word 'industry'. "Yer a musician?"

Jess nodded her head. "Kara, Andrea, our friend Renee and I... we have a band. I'm surprised Kara hasn't mentioned it to you."

John turned to Kara. "And ya think ya know a person." He teased. "Yah never mentioned that ya played, Kar..." John jibed, "'Ow did ya learn ta play?"

"Quite by accident." Kara hissed, "Now both of you hush unless you want to be discovered and thrown out of here---"

"By accident? 'Ow's that work?" John chuckled. She was cute when she was flummoxed.

"Shhhhhhh! I don't think you got rid of Paul, Jess." Kara warned.

"Huh?" Jess' eyebrows raised.

"Listen!!" Kara pointed at the door, beyond which two voices were carrying on a conversation.

"Well, this is just perfect...." Jess thought quickly, fingers brushing up against a wardrobe rack which she could only barely make out in the dim security lights. A few outfits fell to the floor in her frantic scrambling. Struggling to pick them up, she suddenly had a plan. "Here! Put this on!" She threw a sequined pile of cloth at Kara.

"This?!" Kara fingered a robe. "This looks like---"

"Something the Rockettes would wear, right?" Jess pushed the rack at John, instructing him to hide himself behind it. "Since we're in one of their dressing rooms, I'm not surprised."

"You don't have to be Captain Sarcasm." Kara eyed the doorknob anxiously, preparing for it to turn at any moment.

They didn't have long to wait as, moments later, the door swung open, sending a shaft of light straight through the center of the room, splitting the dark like a knife.

"Oh shi---"

* * * * *


Paul McCartney stood, dumbfounded at what he saw before him. "What the devil is goin' on 'ere?!"

Two partially dressed women stood among a pile of chorus girl outfits. One wore a sparkle-studded black bathrobe while the other had a bikini top and jeans on, face mostly concealed under a wide-brimmed straw hat. Neither spoke a word, displaying an identical look of someone who had been caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

John had managed to shove his head into the rack right before the door was opened. His face was completely obscured, but he still felt his pulse pounding frantically in his ears. He wheeled the rack around into what would have been a face to face position were his face not jammed into the bodice of a white chiffon gown. "Oh soddin' waste of---"

"Pardon?" Paul inquired with a turn of his head, trying to figure out who the man before him was.

The rack shuddered a bit as John shook his head. "Not important, mate."

Now Paul was intrigued. The voice was familiar. "Are you from Liverpool?"

To get the hell out of there as quick as possible, John put on an act of being a big shot producer or agent type. "Originally." He rolled the rack toward Kara and Jess, "Now girls, we should resume our work aftah laundry day, don't ya agree?"

Jess nodded her be-hatted head and inched toward the door, Kara at her back.

The rack and John skittered across the room, intending to follow lock-step with the girls.

"Wait."

John cursed under his breath as he sensed Paul approaching. So close to that damn door.. What would Paul do now? Call security on them? Push the rack to the side and find his old pal, supposedly dead, crouching down in fear like an ass? The two were within a foot of each other, John being practically served his chance at a reunion on a silver platter.... but he couldn't do it. Something made him retreat, shrink in on himself. This isn't thah way ta do it, boy. He said to himself.

"Ya sound familiah..." Paul mused.

"Well, if we're both from Liverpool..."

Paul shook his head. "More'n that... Do Ah know ya from somewhere? A tour or somethin'?"

"Could be." John told as close to the truth as he dared. "But... no time now. The girls an' I must be leavin'." John eyed the open door through a slit of light seeping in between two gowns. He was out before Paul could say another word.

Out in the hallway, John cast aside the rack and rushed off with Kara and Jess. "That was closer than Ah like my close calls..."

Meanwhile, a confused Paul stood in the vacant dressing room, scratching his head. Now what was that all about? An' who was that guy with 'is bleedin' nose jammed in a rack of women's clothin'?

For a moment there, he could have sworn that voice belonged to--- No. 'E's been dead for over 20 bloody years now. Stop jumpin' at shadows of thah past an' focus on thah present.... t'night's show.... an' the one after that... an' the one after that... then marryin' Heather... John would 'ave wanted that...