If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 61 - 9.Nov.1964

Chapter 61

November 9, 1964 

A voice filtered in through my subconscious, a damned annoying voice telling me to wake up. Over and over again. I reached for the blanket draped over my body and pulled it over my head as I let out a groan.

"Oi, boogaroff ye git, you're doin' me 'ead in," I mumbled as I pushed my head against the stiff throw pillow and tried to get more comfortable on the small couch.

"'Ello to you, too, Livvy," John said as he plopped onto the couch, sitting on top of my legs. "What a proper jolly host you are this evenin'."

I groaned again but didn't move. "Me legs, John. You're crushin' me legs."

"You coulda moved, been tryin' ta wake you up for a while now. You take somethin'?"

I pushed the blanket back down and peeked at him, my hair a static mess. He'd changed at some point and now wore a white shirt with dark jeans. His dark-rimmed glasses covered his eyes, and he lit a cig before taking a long, deep drag. The fire I'd made earlier to warm up the frigid house barely burned anymore, but the embers were still red.

"No, been tryin' not to." I kicked at him until he stood, and I freed my legs. He plopped back down, and I pushed my legs onto his lap, not thinking better of the contact until it was too late.

"You can take the sleepin' pills if you need 'em, Liv." John leaned against the cushions and placed his arm over the back of the couch. "Just need to be fuckin' careful. Don't want to walk in on you lookin' like you might down an entire bloody bottle again."

"That wasn't ever gonna happen, John." I squirmed at the memory, remembering the pills in my hand...how I'd placed them into my mouth one at a time...how I'd just needed some damn rest.

His jaw tightened, and he turned to look at me with an expression on his face that told me he didn't believe a word I was saying.

"I'm workin' on it, honestly. Maybe I wasn't bein' careful before, and I was bordering on desperate for sleep for a long while. But what you walked in on back in February, I'm not there anymore, all right?" I reached up to my head, attempting to make my hair look more presentable but knew it was useless. My hair was growing back slowly, but it was still a bit of a mess, and when I was out of the house, I preferred to cover it up with a hat. "I've taken a pill a few times since I stopped takin' the pain medication. But tonight I was knackered enough to fall asleep on me own. And lately, the dreams have been a bit more tolerable."

There were endless reasons why sleep continued to elude me and endless reasons why nightmares crept into my mind, but there was also a bit of lightness in my heart ever since John and I finally cleared the mountain of shite between us. Sleeping wasn't perfect by any means, and maybe it never would be, because my father still lingered in my dreams. But there had been a few nights since John and I talked that I'd been able to sleep on my own without needing a pill. And the nights that John came back to his house to check on me before crawling into his own bed, I slept even better.

He pulled in another drag of his cig. "How's the head?"

"Feels better after sleepin'. Forgot how bleeding loud yer fans are."

He hummed through closed lips before speaking. "Anythin' you wanna say to me?"

"Nope." I knew exactly what he wanted me to say, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I reached forward and grabbed the cig from his fingers. I brought it to my lips and inhaled.

"Was thinkin' something like, 'Dearest John, you're always right, don't know why I never listen to you.'"

My brows drew together as I handed him the cigarette. "Mmm, is that what you were thinkin'?"