If You Believe (George Harrison/Beatles FanFic)

Chapter 18

A/N -- I hope all of you had a wonderful weekend! I know I'm a little late with the update --- I had a bit of an accident on Thursday, but all is well except for a bump on the head! I took a couple days of rest and didn't write but I'm back to the keyboard. I guess it's also fitting that I update today because I know we are all thinking of George and sending prayers to him and his entire family. So here's the update and know that I'm thinking of all of you, too, on this reflective day. love, Lara xo.

Annie spent the rest of the day and the next day sitting in a chair at George's bedside, her hand folded around his. She read to him from the book he had left on the nightstand at home and told him all about the goings on at Friar Park. So many people called to see how he was doing and Annie told him all about each person. His hand would sometimes twitch and Annie would burst into a smile, checking to see if he was waking up. The doctor told her that the fact George had not woken up was a bit unusual but not unheard of and she should not worry at this point. She slept in the chair, her head laying at his side, her hand still encasing his.

Visitors came and went, Da, Mal, Nell, his brothers and their wives, even Joan and Molly. Then in came John and Ritchey.

"He quit drinking for THIS?" John called as he walked into the room, waking Annie who was sleeping with her head next to George's hip. "Please tell me he didn't give up cigs too."

"No," Annie tried to stifle a yawn. "We're not that healthy. Hi John. Hi Ritchey."

John approached her, kissing the top of her head and Ritchey followed suit.

"You been wrung through the machine?" John asked her sincerely, his hand curving down the back of her head.

Annie looked up at him with a sweet smile and nodded.

"Well, I have this idea," John grinned at her. "I'm sure you've been talking to him and doing whatever married people do when one is out cold." John saw George's book next to him on the hospital bed. "Reading? Really? Well, to each his own. Anyway, c'mere Annie and help me. Stand next to George's lopsided head on the other side. GEORGIE! Listen up, mate. Wake the fuck up. Quit dreaming about fucking Brigette Bardot, sorry Annie, and wake up, you wanker. Fine. Be stubborn like you always are, you goddam Irishman."

John handed Annie a little earplug and she carefully put it in George's one ear while John put one in the other. Then a small cassette player came out of John's pocket and he set it down on the table next to George's bed. John hit the play button and went with Ritchey to find chairs to sit on. They didn't return for 30 minutes or so.

"That hard to find a chair?" Annie inquired with a grin.

"No," John shook his head, but smiled and waved some paper at her. "But I got 6 different phone numbers. Five from nurses and one from the lady sitting in the next room. Who knew if you wanted to score women, you go to your local ICU?"

And that was it. Annie started to laugh, her forehead dropping into her palm.

"Can I have your number?" he grinned at Annie.

"No. Because I have YOUR number," Annie pushed back with a smile.

"Damn. Shot down again."

"John, shut up," Ritchey told him like a big brother would.

"C'mon Rich. 'You try or you die'."

Ritchey looked at him suspiciously. "You just made that shit up."

"No. It was Wayne Newton. I'm sure of it."

Annie put her head back down on the bed to stifle her hysteria. "You mean Isaac Newton?"