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Get Back

Hey guys! I would like to introduce to you a new Beatles fan fic! This is a co-written story with me, (jennyblazer), Spring_enocore, littlelennonstarkey, and last but not least, LennonHarrisonFan96 :D This a crazy little warped up story on The Beatles traveling to the future...but in this fan fic we'll be covering a lot of problems the Beatles had and oh so very different things that would be if they were young and here today! Join us on an adventure with the beatles! Hope you like it! :)

Chapter 3


I've never been more glad to be having an asthma attack.
I mean, it's not so much bothering me as the fact that I'm probably delerious, John Lennon and Paul McCartney wedged with four girls in a mini? Possible? Only in my mind!
"So.... where are George and Ringo?" I ask, trying to pry my eyes away from the window and ignore the carsickness that could compare to no other.
There's a shrug from John and another from Paul.
"How helpful." I grumble sarcastically.
I sigh because you'd think they, of all people, would be helpful, but I just let my eyes wander to all my friends, Spring's almost pleading to me in the rear view mirror, and to out the window and watch the people pass by me, because I could be of no service to anyone at a time so confusing as this.
I know, because I know Jude, she's sitting there trying not to say something stupid, which to her would be a normal conversation starter like "nice weather we're having, huh?", and Jema's probably pretty nervous too because I mean John Lennon, really?, but here I am just dying. Almost literally.
We slowed to a stop and my eyes scanned the people on the side of the road, or at least I assume they were people, like they almost always did when I could see, and even when I couldn't. Which made me happy because no one was forcing me to put on my glasses. Ahh the simple pleasures in life.
I went back to trying to focus on the hundreds of people and thought that, besides the Tale of Two Cities referance, they would have gone home by now, when I recognize two very out of place characters. One tall and lanky and the other a flash of blue.
And that's when it wasn't the asthma taking my breath away. That's when I thought carsickness could never compare to the feeling of my stomach flopping around like now.
"Wait!" I shout, throwing the mini's door open.
I didn't really notice what I'd done until I took a breath and realized ''I couldn't breathe''. I looked over my shoulder and everyone was staring at me, John with some vain smirk. With a nervous shrug and anxious chewing of the lip I got up and bolted, just like Jude had, and left my friends behind, ignoring the asthma that was already killing me.
Poor Spring and Jema. They must be terrified of us, me and Jude, just bolting left and right as if our lives depended on it, but it didn't matter too much because I was bolting after someone that was never more comforting. I wasn't hallucinating, Jude wasn't crazy and everything was A-Ok.
We were sane! As soon as I could touch him I could ''proove'' we were sane! And I knew we were!
I dodged cars and stumbled over the curb, ending up on my knees and at the feet of a tall baffled looking guitarist.
"Sorry, need a hand?" He offers it, as if he's tripped me, and I take it trying to over come the pride that had gathered in my chest from the fall.
"George, hurry up, mate!" It's a strange sort of comforting, hearing his voice at a sickening time like this.
Comforting because now there was no doubt in my mind, this was all real.
"Shred!" Jema's shouting my name behind me, and Ringo's working his way to George and I from meters away.
I look at my friend with a smile, but shrug her off with the over whelming need to smile at Ringo who is, not only knocking the air out of my lungs by simply standing there, now dragging George and I out of the hustle and bustle of people.
"What are ye doin', luv?" He says quite charmingly, making my stomach churn and that carsickness seem like nothing. "Yer knees are bleeding."
I nod and smile at him, because I can do nothing else, before glancing to George who looks quite confused and bothered by the blood on my knees.
I notice a hand on my shoulder, but I block it out, "We... my friends and me, we're with Paul and John. They were looking for you, we've got them-"
"Ringo! George!" Paul's shouting behind me and John, who I see when I turn around, is bounding through all the people to where we are, my friends close behind him.
Spring and Jude come up to join Jema and I on the sidewalk with George, Ringo, John and Paul with half hidden smirks.
I can see them talking, their lips are moving, but all I hear is Ringo. It sounds cheesy and corny, like nacho's, but it's true in a dead annoying way. His voice is almost drowning everything out and all he's saying is that he's glad he finally found John and Paul, that's not even exciting and it's drowning out my friends!
I think it's just the kick I'm getting out of the twisted sane world I'm spinning in. It really is real, George and Paul and Ringo and.... John. Who's not dead. It's real and touchable!
"Shred!" Spring shouts, grabbing my attention.
I raise my eyebrows and nod, "Come again?"
"How did you know it was them? How did you find them?" She asks.
I shrug, "His eyes are blue."
"Your knees are bleeding." Jema reminds me.
I shrug again, "Don't you bleed when you get cut?"
Jema looks kind of offended and confused. It's not like I meant it to come off agitatedly or annoyed, it just did. I really did care about my friend, she was brill, but it just came out wrong. And I wasn't one to apoligize, esecially for things I didn't mean or didn't do.
"She didn't mean it that way, Jema." Jude covers for me. "She's sorry, I'm sure."
I'm glad to have a friend like Jude, who covers for me when things come out of my mouth that I don't mean. She's good like that.
Its random, but there are somethings you over hear that just make the moment memorable.
Like John 'whispering', "They fancy touching mouths!"
I laughed and George seemed to be doing that enough for each Beatle. Jude couldn't help, but burst out laughing too.
Just at her laughing, I laughed harder. Then we looked weirder.
"Cute laugh." I heard Paul comment under his breath.
"Quit flirtin' master of birds!" That was John. "And may I remind you that you're the reason we're here?"
"Not at all, Len!" Paul defended. "You are, yer the one dyin' on us!-"
George and Ringo side steped the two bickering band mates and joined us, George not shy to wrap his arm around Spring.
"I'm George." He says with a smile.
"And I'm awkward." I grumble, leaning back onto the heels of my feet.
I heard someone choke back a laugh and felt a little giddiness well in my chest as I realized it was Ringo who was standing to my left.
This would certainly be a trip I would never forget.
After letting the bickering married couple, aka Lennon/McCartney, argue for a little while we decided it would be in everyone's best interests to get the heII out of the middle of the road, mainly because someone might recognize the band.
The walk back was awkwardly quiet because air between John and Paul was tense after the argument that no one cared to bring up.
It was strange because as a fan girl I never looked at them as big arguers. Maybe, "here's a topic let's debate!", but not, "I hate you I'm going to pretend you don't exsist!"
I saw the little yellow car in the distance and let out a silent sigh of releif.
"You drive mini? What a coincidence, I love mini!" George said with a smile.
"It's not a coincidence." Spring said, bounding perkily to Yellow Sub.
George's smile fell a little. "I guess not."
"No, I don't mean like that! I bought it ''because'' you love mini." She smiled and corrected herself.
He smiled widely, more widely than I'd just about ever seen a person smile. I glanced at everyone, the air lighten suddenly.
Paul opened the door and slid in, Jude close behind as Spring and George got in drivers and shot gun.
"Eight people in a mini?" I ask, watching everyone slide in and press together comfortably.
It was a little too close for my likes and to make it worse this ragged old cat came out of nowhere and jumped into Jema's lap.
"The daft! You think you can get away with bein' a cute cat 'round a bunch of birds!" John exlaimed, prodding his finger dangerously close to the cat. "Well it's not workin' on us, ye hear?! Ye think you can pull a fast one on ''John Lennon''? Think again!"
I let it be, he could fill us in later, but for now there was no room.
"Eight people and a cat." George corrected.
"Spring, where are we gonna sit?" I ask, certain that there was no room left in the rows.
She shrugged. "Trunk?"
I sighed and forced a smile. ''Ringo and I squished together in a trunk. Seven minutes in heaven or seven minutes of awkward?''
The trunk popped and the two of us slid in. I didn't think it was legal, and it definately wasn't comfortable, but it was reason enough to slide right into Ringo's arms.
"Ye've got an accent, where ye from?" He asks, trying to make the best of the situation.
This was the worst I had ever felt. Not emotionally, emotionally I was the happpiest person alive, but just like before my stomach was flopping around like a fish on a hot deck.
"Actually, you have the accent." I correct.
"No, you do, yer on ''my'' terf." He smiles cheekily.
I smile too, but ordinarily anyone correcting me would force a deep red blush to over whelm me along with impending silence. "Massachusetts."
"America." He smiles.
Through the dark, it's all I can see. I've never been more glad that my big mouth could wind me up in a confined space, which I also hate, because I think I just love being this close to such a brilliant smile. It makes me feel comfortable, or simply this close to Ringo, who I've always drempt of having a moment like this with.
"Very cute." He nods, but I'm pretty convinced he's just lying through his teeth.
There was a chorus of laughs from ''inside'' the car and for once I didn't care. Ordinarily I'd be pleading to be on the inside of a joke, but I was locked in a trunk with Ringo Starr. Nothing mattered.
And it's a random thought, like most thoughts or impulses I have, but if I could snuggle up in his arms right now and just sleep I would without a doubt be the happiest person alive. And as if someone above was watching out for me, we hit a bump. And that one bump ended me up in his arms.
In a half hearted effort to give him space I apologized and pushed myself away.
"It's fine." He promises, pulling me back to him. "You can stay here."
I smile and stifle a yawn. "Thank you."
"My pleasure."
And as if that same someone that helped me out before hated me now, Spring threw the trunk open and blinded us with light.
''Stupid karma.''
After crawling out of the trunk the eight of us dragged to Springs place where the energy seemed to get renewed. A small puppy bounded around our ankles and tugged on pant legs. Paul got a fancy from the little ball of energy and sprawled across the floor, which Jude got a fancy from, and began wrestling the small beast.
The lot of us were about to get taken for a confusing spin, more so than the prior confusing parts of our day.
"What's his name?" Paul asked, as we all sprawled across furniture pieces.
"Ringo." Spring replied with a smile.
Opening his eyes from his comfortable place, sprawled across George and John, the drummer replied, "Yes?"
Spring loked a little purturbed that he'd responded, "Um nothing."
"What's his name then?" Paul asked, slightly oblivious that his question had been answered.
"Its Ringo," The drummer peered his blue eyes at my friend. "My dog's name is Ringo."
The four Beatles seemed more purturbed than Paul had before hand and took questioning glanced to the four of us and to the pup. The three of us, Jude, Jema and I, gave lovey-dovey glances to the puppy who seemed to be adoring the attention and soaking it up like a little furry sponge.
John was the first to break the sinence, "Thats a proper name though, they really look alike I can hardly tell the difference!"
Ringo whacked his band mate and got off the sofa and crawled to the puppy. "Shut up John! Spring, you shouldn't have named him after me, now we got two Ringo's and everyone'll get confuse when you call one!"
"Especially that they look so much alike!" John quipped, surely doing it to annoy his mate.
Spring looked a little worried but smirked, "Sorry Ringo, but I never thought you'll time travel to 2015 and come to my house or I would never make such a silly mistake, stupid of me!"
Then Ringo got to level with the pip to play with him and Ringo (dog) start barking at him.
"What's it with him?" He asked, blue eyes almost teary looking.
"Meybe he doesn't like you took his name." George added to the conversation.
The most of us took a giggle at that but Ringo looked annoyed, big blue puppy eyes level with the dog and tickling it.
John looks at them together and then to the four of us, "They look like twin brothers!"
Spring had noticed that, between Paul and Ringo's undivided attention and the constant name calling, the poor dog had become confused and riled up. "Calm down Ringo!”
Ringo looked to my friend, more defensively than anything, "I'm trying to!"
I was beginning to think that fostering three friends and four Beatles was going to be a lot more than she'd bargained for.

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