I'd been to the Alps once before, not too long ago to shoot our second film 'Help!' and it had gone smoothly. 1 year later we were back and it wasn't going so well.

Flashes of white snow and the feeling of no control are the last things to plague my mind before I tripped, banged my head on god-knows-what and black.

After that I vaguely remember the feel of someone putting pressure on my shoulder, the boys must have seen my embarrasing and stupid accident, Paul's voice was the only thing I heard through my conscious/unconscious state.

"Georgie?" I willed to answer but my energy was all but diminished and all I could manage was a pain filled groan. A flaring pain in my leg and head became prominant and I fought hard to avoid falling back into the black, oddly comforting, depths of unconsciousness.

More voices, the boys were joined by more people. Someone slowly moved me onto my back and cold air hit my face. My violent shivering was made aware to me, my teeth chattered and I could bairly breathe. My lungs felt as if they'd shrunk and my breathing was shallow.

More blur...

Someone was speaking to me, loud noises blocking them out

"Georgie..."

"Wakey, wake time Harri'" the feeling of someone shaking me. "Don't touch him" that voice is unfamilier and authorative "if he's hurt his spine we don't want to damage him further."

To tell you the truth I was scared. Anyone would be mad not to be.
I couldn't feel my body, I was numb all over and I related what I was feeling to that of water turning to ice.

Loud noise and the feeling of being lifted. I could still hear voices, familier ones. The boys joking - or rather trying to joke with me. If only I could respond, tell them to shut it or even laugh along with them.

More black...

After hours, days or even years later I felt warmth. Actual warmth and feeling. My leg felt heavy and something was wrapped around my head and was that someone holding my hand?

After so many minutes of almost consciousness I managed to wearily crack an eye open and immediantly shut it against the bright, white light. This was it; I was dead and this was heaven, or even hell? What would the boys do without me? What would happen to The Beatles?

"George" a voice apeared Paul. Was he dead too?

I moaned and cracked my eyes open once again and was face to face with my might-as-well-be-my-big-brother-McCartney who might I add was smiling with a touch of concern clouding his eyes.

"Am I dead?" I questionned, might as well get it out in the open but a ringing sound of familier laughter was all that greeted me.

"Naah' mate" another voice answered John.

"Not quite" the third voice giggle, amused at their own joke. Obviously Ringo.

I felt sick and was obviously running a fever but I felt that I had been lying down too long and had to get up. "Woah!" Paul reacted quickly, pushing me down and keeping his hand on my chest "mother hen" I choked out to him. I hated being fussed over.

"Whats the verdict" I whispered and the feeble tone to my voice prominant to myself and the boys. I was never going to live this down.

"Broken leg and a bad concussion" Ringo announced, none of the expected humour in his voice "we were really worried about you mate."
"Yeah Harri'" John piped in "lying there with a bloody ed' and dodgy leg. We thought you were dead, well, Paulie here did"

I glanced at Paul waiting for an explanation "you fell off ya' ski's going elvis-knows how fast and you weren't moving. When we got to you all we could get out of ya' was a groan and then tha' guy said you could av' hurt your back" Paul finished looking worried "you've been out for hours, at one point they didna' know how bad it was and whether you'd wake up"

I blinked, shocked "i'm alright na' guys. Lets not mention this again alrigh' don't fancy all my female fans throwing a fuss ey?" To which I got a "what female fans" from the boys. It was good to hear them laughing, even if it was at me.

"So whats for dinna' i'm starvin'?"

Literally something I wrote in about 15 minutes. Hope you all like it, reviews are great!