All In Good Time - A Time Travel Beatles Fanfiction

Track 2 - I Saw Her Standing There

Paul watched her closely, a frown of concern etched on his brow. He would help her. She felt sure of it. His hands still held her face. She reached up and gripped his wrists. "You have to help me."

He nodded. "Of course, love."

"No hospital! Please. I just have to get back to my mom. No hospital."

"No problem. Where's your mum?"

How was she supposed to answer that one? If this was 1963, her mother was a two-year-old baby living in Virginia. "Help me sit up. I need to think."

When she got herself into a sitting position, someone knelt beside her with a paper cup half full of something that smelled blissfully like tea. God bless the British. She took it gratefully and looked up into the face of John Lennon.

"Oh my god, John Lennon!" she blurted out. "You look awesome!"

Even through a new flash of pain, she didn't miss the look John and Paul exchanged.

"You look...awesome, John," Paul repeated.

"Ambulance on the way," John said quietly.

Lainey shook her head vigorously, wincing at the pain. "No ambulance. No hospital. I need my mom."

Beside her, Paul scratched his head. He watched her raise the cup to her lips with a shaky hand. Then he leaned in close. "Look in my eyes."

She lowered the cup and stared at him as he peered back and forth between her eyes. He was so close she could see the tiny gold and green flecks in his hazel eyes.

"Pupils are the same size. How many fingers am I holding up?" He held up one thumb three inches in front of her nose.

It was such a McCartney thing to do that she almost laughed, but a new wave of pain hit. "Eleventy," she muttered, pushing his thumb out of her face. "I'm fine. I just need to lie down somewhere for a few minutes and then I'll call my mom."

"All right, lads, let's take her home and ring her mum from there." Paul stood up and brushed off his dark trousers.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Paul—"

"You bloody near killed her Neil, and that makes us responsible for her."

"She came out of nowhere," George added.

"And now she's going home with us."

The one they called Neil stepped in front of Lainey and said a few low words to Paul.

"Don't be so bloody neurotic, Neil. My mum was a nurse. I know what I'm doing."

Paul took Lainey by the hand and pulled her to her feet. She swayed against him for a moment. "All right?" he asked.

"Yes. Really. I'll be fine if I can just close my eyes for a few minutes." She glanced away from him and almost fell back onto the sidewalk.

Everything was different. Trees that had seemed twenty feet high only moments ago were saplings. The cars on the road, the hairstyles of the men and women, their clothing...it was like watching the History Channel. Even the red double-decker buses had changed from the sleek modern design with the oversized windows into the squat shorter buses she remembered from old movies. The air seemed smoggier, and the smell of exhaust permeated everything.

Tears burned behind her eyes. She couldn't even think what to do with her head pounding this way.

Paul dipped his head and searched her eyes. "All right?" he asked again.

"Yes. Just need to close my eyes." She clutched Paul's hand and didn't protest as he led her to a black sedan idling at the curb.

Moments later she was motoring through London, sandwiched between Paul and Ringo, with George in the opposite corner of the back seat. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, resting her forehead on the heels of her hands. Immediately she felt a hand on her shoulder, fingers massaging her neck. Good lord. A baby-faced Paul McCartney was massaging her neck. With those hands that played the music that she listened to every day at home on her iPhone. In 2012.