If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 54 - 14.Aug.1964 - 21.Sept.1964

Chapter 54 

August 14, 1964

The room was a bit cold, and I shifted uncomfortably in the gown I'd been provided. I had an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, and all I wanted to do was stand up and pace the room, but I settled for shaking both of my legs instead.

What was taking so bloody long, anyway? How long did it take to figure out if I was pregnant? Apparently, a goddamn year, at least.

John had been a proper twit arsehat the other night, and I didn't want to think about him or our row, but he was right about one thing...I needed to see a doctor again. My headaches weren't getting better, the nausea was worrisome at best, and the dizzy spells, while getting fewer and farther between, were not signs pointing to me being healthy. Not to mention my damned period was late.

The door pushed open after what seemed like hours of waiting, my thumbnail ruined from chewing on it for so long. The doctor sat across from me and eyed my chart for a few moments, flipping through the pages, and I almost murdered the knobhead. He just needed to tell me if I was pregnant. A simple yes or no would do.

And after what seemed like another eternity, he raised his brown eyes to look at me. He pushed out a sigh before speaking.

"You're not pregnant, Miss Woods." His tone did nothing to hide his judgment, and I supposed that I couldn't blame him...I was, after all, not married.

All of the tension I'd been holding in released all at once. I covered my mouth with my hand as I exhaled and had to bite my tongue to hold back what I almost blurted out...which might've gone something like 'thank bloody fuckin' hell.' But I didn't think the stone-faced doctor with pepper and salt hair and wrinkles around his eyes would appreciate my colorful language. He didn't seem like the type to spice up his sentences with a few fucks here or there.

There would've been nothing worse than having to crawl back to John with news that our night in Liverpool had resulted in an unplanned and apparently very unwelcomed pregnancy. Especially since I had no plans to try to repair the damage between us. I was beyond done with him after our row. And the feeling, I assumed, was more than mutual.

I gripped the gown around me and crossed my ankles. "But I'm late, and the nausea and dizziness seemed to point toward maybe being pregnant."

"The test doesn't usually lie," he said, his brows pinched as he eyed my chart again. "But you said you took a blow to the head about a month ago?"

"A little more than a month ago, yeah."

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling colder. A shiver crept down my spine as images of the attack in the alley with Catherine resurfaced. I'd been able to put that night mostly in the past where it belonged, but just thinking about it made me feel a bit ill. The night could've had infinitely worse outcomes, and I knew we were lucky that we'd gotten away.

He grabbed a pen from his pocket. "And what have your symptoms been like since then?"

I went with complete honesty, not wanting to hold back anything that might be important. I explained everything in detail, the nausea, headaches, spells of dizziness, difficulty sleeping, the nightmares.

Then I swallowed before adding, "But getting headaches isn't anything new. I've been getting them for years, ever since I, uh...fell down the stairs. Took a proper knock to the head then, too."

Even though my father was dead, I still didn't like sharing the details of the hell I'd gone through with just anyone. I didn't want the doctor's damned pity, anyway. I just wanted the headaches to go away.