Yay my first beatles fanfic. So this is not entirely my idea. There's a beatles fanfiction novel online called 'into my life' by Diane Hubert. I don't remember the exact site, but if you wanna read it I'm pretty sure googling it will help. Now, don't get me wrong, the novel was great, but after a while it just turned out to be about Paul and the OC. But I LOVED the main idea in the beginning of John's accident, so I'm going to be going from there, but from the beatles perspective, mostly John and Paul. All I borrowed was that idea, the rest of the story is gonna be different

Hope you guys like it! Read and review pleeaassee :D :D

It was mid 1964, at the height of beatlemania. The Beatles were two months into their first ever U.S tour, and were currently on their way to New York City, their next stop. The four were comfortably seated in a private jet, along with their regular entourage. This included Mal, their head of security, Brian, their manager, and four other guys responsible for making sure their luggage was transported to the hotel
George had just gotten up to go to the restroom. Ringo sat in the window seat next to where George had been, now staring out the window. They were sitting in the two seats to the left of the plane, while John and Paul sat in two seats to the right. They had been flying so much in the past two months that they were all sick of it. Generally active, the inactivity of the plane drove them all crazy.
Paul had been fiddling with his guitar, but stopped thirty minutes ago when he noticed that John had dozed off, not wanting to disturb him.

"He asleep?' George had asked, somewhat surprised

'Yeah'

'Blimey he can't sleep through the fans but he can sleep through the noise of the fucking plane' Ringo had said, grinning

That had been a constant problem wherever they went. The fans. All four of them really appreciated all the love and suppost they were getting, but sometimes they went too far. They would surround the hotel around the clock, cheering and screaming. It was like they didn't need to sleep. Maybe they took shifts, Paul mused. But the noise would bother them and the rest of the hotel guests, so they had gotten used to the dirty looks. But at some point, him and George and Ringo could tune out the noise and fall asleep

John, however, was a different matter. He was a naturally light sleeper, and would mostly stay up all night. Whenever Paul got up at night to get some water, John would either be in the living room of their suite writing or just staring out the window. He always tried to play it off, but Paul knew better. Sometimes he would join him and they would talk or write together, and John's constant yawning and baggy eyes would give him away.

Beside him, John shifted slightly, still asleep. Paul glanced at him. He was slumped against the window, hand under his head. Paul frowned slightly, noting again how exhausted John looked. He was kind of glad he had let John take the window seat, so he could nap peacefully. As soon they had entered the plane, both of them had gotten into their usual arguement over who would get the window seat. They'd both started scuffling, Mal had broken them apart and Ringo had played peacemaker, told them both to stop acting like children. Brian and George had just rolled their eyes, choosing to stay out of it. Paul had sighed dramatically and let John have it for once, smirking when John had giggled excitedly and looked smug once he sat down.

George came back from the restroom, smacking Paul's arm when the latter tried to trip him on his way to his seat, grinning. The plane suddenly lurched horribly, and John jerked awake. He immediately closed his eyes, putting his hand on his forehead.

'Headache?' Paul asked

'Yeah. Haven't been able to shake the bastard off' John replied, leaning back into his seat again, eyes still closed.

Paul frowned. Of course, all those sleepless nights were starting to take their toll on him. Sure, they were all exhausted. Between the countless interviews, long shows all night and constantly being mobbed by fans, they weren't sure where they got all their energy. But at least they slept.
'I'm fine Macca' paul turned to look at John. He'd finally opened his eyes and had his head tipped back, looking down his nose at paul with an amused expression. Typical John. He'd been swearing twice as much all morning, a sure sign something was wrong. And that was saying something, because John Lennon swore a lot!

Paul rolled his eyes 'Sure you are'

John turned serious, a rare thing. 'It's just a headache, Paul. Get them all the time' he said quietly. Then he grinned. 'You just want me to keel over so you can have your precious window seat back!'

Paul snorted 'If I wanted the seat, I would have gotten it'

'Oh please. You could never have beat me'

'Yes I could!'

'You cry at the dentists, I doubt you could take a punch'

'That was one time!'

'Children!' Ringo cut in irritatibly 'Play nice!'

'Yes mammy' they both chorused, showing him the finger. He rolled his eyes. They both snickered. George was struggling to keep a straight face
An announcement sounded saying they were about to land. They all put their seatbelts on. It had been a very short flight, only two hours, but Paul could tell that the short nap had done John some good. He had played along with the banter, but he knew John's head was still bothering him. He was still rubbing his forehead, but looked a bit more relaxed. God knows he would need to be to face the mob surely waiting at the airport.

Paul unbuckled his seatbelt, got up, and stowed his guitar in its case, putting it back in the baggage compartment. John silently watched him, then looked out the window. They were almost there, and he could make out the mob of people waiting for them.

He sighed. His head was really killing him. It was this throbbing pain that started from this point at the back of his head, and stretched down to his neck and over to behind his eyes. Typical tension headache, he thought miserably. He'd had enough of them over the years to know that. Paul sat back down an joined him looking out the window. John knew that Paul knew exactly what was going on. They both could read each other perfectly.

The plane finally landed, slowing into a taxi. Mal exited the plane as soon as it stopped, to go talk to the security outside. The rest of them remained seated, watching from the window on Ringo and George's side as the barrier was opened and the people were allowed onto the runway. 'It's time, boys' Brian said, rising from his seat behind them and making his way to the exit to the front. The four beatles followed, John trailing behind.

The attendant, who looked excited beyond belief, opened the door, and the roar of the crowd washed over them. John winced as it sent a stab of pain through his already throbbing head. Paul turned and threw a worried look in his direction, then quickly turned around and walked out. John sighed and followed, plastering a smile on his face and waving to the fans as the noise continued to assault his ears. He really needed some aspirin.