If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 77 - 11.Feb.1967

Chapter 77

February 11, 1967 

"Eppy seems to be in a terrible state," John said, peering at me over the bridge of his nose, his legs hanging over the edge of the small couch. We were in the sunroom, and he had a newspaper in his hands. John's hair was less tame and a bit fluffier than it had been, and his sideburns even longer than before. And he'd fully embraced his horseshoe mustache despite my grumblings.

He wore striped trousers and a red sweater with a white scarf. It reminded me a bit of what he'd worn while recording the promotional film for Strawberry Fields Forever. After I'd confronted him about the drugs last month, he'd come home the following day and invited me to attend the filming...and I loved every moment of being on set and photographing the boys again.

"How so?" I was on the floor with Maggie, watching her as she cruised around the coffee table, not able to walk by herself yet but trying her damndest anyway. She nearly gave us a heart attack each time she crashed into something.

"His head's a complete mess." John swung his legs down and grabbed a cassette tape from the end table.

"Give 'im a break," I said, reaching for Maggie and steadying her as she wobbled. "He's used to being with you lot all the time, and now you barely need him anymore. All of this change, it's an adjustment. He must not know what to do with himself."

It wasn't as if John or I had any room to judge someone else's behavior, not when we were both still struggling to cope with all of the recent changes in our lives.

"You don't get it, Liv." John walked to the shelf and put the tape in the tape recorder. "This isn't bloody normal, this. Just listen, will you?" He leaned against the wall as we listened, and I winced as it began. The sounds were barely recognizable as being the voice of a human.

My mouth fell open. "What is that?"

"It's bloody Brian." He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "He made this tape for me. Don't know why he goddamn sent it...I think he's tryin' to tell me somethin', but fuck if I know what."

The noises alternated between groaning and grunting. Occasionally there was a decipherable word uttered, but the words made no sense. They were random, strange, and downright incoherent.

"He doesn't seem to be able to communicate with us anymore," John continued as Maggie tried to take a step toward him. She tumbled to the floor, almost crashing into the edge of the table on the way. He picked her up and held her close as he placed a kiss on the top of her head. "We're all bloody worried 'bout 'im...but don't know what the fuck we can do 'bout it."

"I'll invite him round for a cuppa," I said as I leaned back, cringing as I recalled the noises from the tape. "He misses seein' you lot, I'm sure. I get it...I miss seein' the boys like I used to. I barely see Paul anymore, y'know."

John hummed in response, not committing to anything, but he smiled as he sat back down, Maggie giggling in his arms as she tried to grab his glasses. It seemed nothing could get in the way of his shiny mood, probably because we were hours from Dot taking Maggie for the night so that he could reintroduce me to LSD. And while he looked chuffed to bits, my stomach churned at the thought.

John reached for his cup of tea. It was a special cup that I'd gotten him while out shopping with Maggie, one that had a half-moon shaped ledge on the inside so he could drink from it without getting his mustache soaked in tea. He thought it a divine prezzie.

As John sat with a contented Maggie on his lap, he reached for the newspaper on the table and opened it to the next page.

"You've gotta look at this, Livvy." He pointed to an article. "It must be some kind of joke."