If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 22 - 11.July.1961

Chapter 22

July 11, 1961

"What'd the doc say?" John asked as we neared the gates of the cemetery, our mothers both resting inside. He walked beside me, not touching me, his eyes set on the ground while mine looked at the clouds churning in the sky. The clouds did a better job reflecting my mood than the bloody sun had done the previous year.

How had another year gone by without my mother? It seemed impossible that time moved on with her gone, but somehow it did. And somehow, I moved on without her.

We hesitated, both of us peeking at the gates, and then we turned for the plot of grass that had become our spot.

I crossed my legs and sat on the grass, leaning back against my hands. I'd done my hair again, carefully pulling it into an intricate updo. It just felt right to look nice for my mum, because maybe, just maybe, she was somewhere near.

It was comforting to imagine it, my mother sitting beside John's mother maybe a few metres from us. I liked to think they were enjoying each other's company. It eased my mind to believe that they were perhaps together somewhere. I hoped it was near, but anywhere they could be together would be good enough.

Wetness pooled in my eyes, and I swiped at the tears before they had a chance to fall. "Doc said I'm all right."

"Liv," he said, his tone sharp, as he sat beside me. It was a warning to tell the truth.

"John, come on." I rubbed a hand over my eyes. "Do we have to talk about this right now? Haven't we both got enough on our minds?"

"You're on my mind, Liv." His gaze flicked upward as he shook his head. He was clearly in no mood to have me put him off. "Making sure you're all right is fuckin' on my mind, got it?"

I sucked in a breath. "Got it."

Since our talk in Hamburg, John and I had returned to something that resembled normal. It wasn't exactly how we'd been before, but it was something...better than polite avoidance. True to his word, he took control of things, no matter how much I whined or how many wobblers I threw. One thing was obvious: John didn't completely trust me to be alone. And I didn't know how to convince him that I was okay, but I continued to try.

I lowered my chin to my chest and finally answered his question. "The doc said that it's likely the stress of what's happened recently in my life along with the proper knocking to the head I took that's causing it."

"Causing what? The headaches or not bein' able to sleep."

"Both." The doc hadn't been sure which came first, the chicken or the egg, so to speak, but he thought the two were undoubtedly related.

John's eyebrows drew together as he turned to look at me. "And how honest were you with 'im?"

"Honest enough." I hadn't gone far enough to tell the doc who exactly had caused the blows to my head back in October, but at least I told him about what happened that night.

"He knows what 'appened to you? What you're dreaming about? How often you're getting headaches?"

"Christ, yes, John. I was fuckin' truthful." With my elbows resting on my knees, I cradled my head and heaved out a sigh. "When are ye gonna start trustin' me again?"

His answer was very simple. "When I feel like you're telling me the complete truth again, Livvy."

I pushed my fingers into my hair as my spine quaked. I wanted to scream that he knew everything...but that wasn't exactly true, was it? He somehow knew I was still holding something back. It was like he had a sixth fuckin' sense. That...or Paul had told him about my feelings.