If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 33 - 10.April.1962 - 12.April.1962

Chapter 33

April 10, 1962

I never thought I'd appreciate land as much as I did after flying on a ruddy airplane for the first time. It didn't help that there had been news of at least one fatal airplane crash per week in the weeks leading up to the flight to Hamburg. It was clear the odds were most certainly not in my favor.

Somehow I'd survived despite barely breathing during the flight and clutching my hands together until they turned white from lack of circulation. The lads hadn't looked thrilled either, but traveling by air sure beat the previous multiple-day journeys to Hamburg.

There had been at least ten times that I thought for sure we were headed for the ground, spiraling to a horrifying death. John didn't bloody help the situation, taking out his stress by messing with me. He kept gasping whenever there was a bump, and I practically screamed each time he did it. His chuckle taunted me as I repeatedly shoved my elbow into him, attempting to get him to stop being such an arse. But there was no stopping John from being an arse when he wanted to be one.

I hoisted my bag into the boot of the taxi before attempting to climb in next to John. But Pete, Paul, and John took up too much space, and there was no room for me.

"Guess you'll just have to stay 'ere," John said, winking and grinning up at me.

Paul leaned forward and offered me a wave as he chuckled. "You've walked the streets of Hamburg before, haven't ye? I'm sure you'll find it."

"You're in such trouble with me, John," I grumbled. "First trying to get me to bleedin' scream on the plane and now abandoning me on the first day back in Hamburg." I shoved at him, trying to get him to make room. "I thought for sure I had at least a week before you tried to ditch me."

John wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me onto his lap. "I guess you can come with." He pressed his lips against my cheek and then against my lips as Paul gagged audibly. Pete peered out the opposite window. I had to hunch over, but we all finally fit, and the taxi took off.

"Blech," I said as I pushed John's mouth away from mine. "I can't be sure you don't have rubella, can I? George probably spread it to all of ye."

"If I have it, you have it," John said with a shrug. Poor George had come down with a nasty case of German measles and stayed back with Brian for a few extra days to ensure George was healthy before traveling.

It was strange being back in Hamburg, a place I'd called home for some time. But it was different now...my head was finally on straight, and things were steady for me for the first time in a long time.

Things were a bit less steady for the band, but Brian was on it. I had hope that everything would work out, even when John had serious doubts. Nerves had ruined their audition for Decca, but they'd still been confident they'd gotten a recording contract, especially when they learned they'd topped the poll for the most popular band in Liverpool. They were on the front page of the Mersey Beat, and it was a picture I'd taken of the lads: leather jackets, unsmiling, perfect hair. And much to John's unbridled pleasure, Paul's name appeared as Paul McArtrey.

Brian knew how special the boys were, and despite things not working out with Decca, he was adamant that the Beatles were going to be huge. John wasn't so sure, and he was stunned by the rejection. One night in bed, he'd asked me if I thought this was the end. I was so sure it wasn't, but John was worried he was too bloody old, that stars were made young. So like a good girlfriend, I teased him relentlessly about his age again for several weeks.

Brian had started to pick small battles with the boys, some he won, and some he lost. He managed to get the boys to stop smoking and swearing on stage. They also stopped gulping down food during their lunchtime sessions at the Cavern. Eppy had made it clear that they had to choose to either make it big or eat on stage...they decided to stop eating on stage.