If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 32 - 31.Dec.1961

Chapter 32

December 31, 1961

I retched a third time, my entire body trembling through the horrid feeling.

A hand settled on my back, and I hoped it was John's, but I was too busy emptying my insides to look. He swept my hair back and held it.

"I'm okay, John, just leave me alone," I grumbled as my stomach settled for a moment. I didn't want him to see me like this. Despite my shite attitude, his hand stayed on my back. I lifted my head up as I wiped at my mouth. The other boys all stood with their backs to me, apparently taking a moment for a much-needed piss. The wind whipped around us, and the icy pellets of sleet hit my face.

Another wave of queasiness hit me, and I bent forward again, emptying whatever was left in my stomach, which really wasn't much since I hadn't eaten a meal since breakfast.

"Jeezus, Liv," Paul said, apparently finished taking a piss, as he stepped closer to me. "Are ye ill or somethin'?"

"Was it me spewing that tipped you off?" I held my hand up as he took another step toward me. It was bad enough having John near me while I kept gagging, but I refused to be gawked at by the other lads. "Back up, Paul. Please."

I pushed out a long breath before forcing myself to stand. With closed eyes, I turned toward John. He gathered my weak body into his protective arms and held me close, one hand cradling my head against his chest. It didn't matter that the lads might've been staring at us...John handled me carefully like only he could.

"This car sickness, Liv?"

"Dunno," I mumbled, my eyes still closed. "I'm really sorry."

"For what? Vomming all over the place?"

I wanted to laugh but I couldn't. "I've thrown a spanner in the plan."

He chuckled, his chest moving beneath my cheek. "Shite happens...I mean look at yer face."

I couldn't help but smile and wrap my arms around him, giving him a squeeze. It was so like John to say something like that after I'd emptied my stomach on the side of the road during a ruddy blizzard.

"I think I'm done," I said as I moved my hand to my aching head. "We can keep goin'."

"No hurry, anyway." John's hand went into my hair. "Neil says we're a bit lost. He's lookin' at the map with Pete."

"I'm all right, ready to get back in." But just as the words left my mouth, the bloody awful feeling churned again. I pushed out of his arms and spun around. With my hands on my knees, I heaved and vomited, my throat burning. I shivered as I paused for a moment to see if there was more coming. Then I stood and straightened my shoulders. "Okay, yeah. I'm done now."

"You gonna be able to make it to London? Don't think we're nearly close yet."

I didn't look at John as I marched toward the van, my arms wrapped around my torso. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

His hand gripped my shoulder, stopping me from climbing into the van. "Livvy, hold on, wouldya? Tell me how–"

Before he could finish, I spun to look at him, my feet in a pile of ever-deepening snow and ice. "What?" I probably should've controlled my tone, but after emptying my insides in front of everyone, all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide.

Inside the van, the lads were talking, but not as quietly as they might've thought. I leaned toward them, listening, gripping the edge of the door.