Warning: injury, medical treatment, self-loathing, self-deprecation, blood, emotional breakdown
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The clock read 11:45pm when Ringo finally got inside the house, and George followed behind, careful not to make too much noise.
“How are you holding up?” Ringo asked.
“...is Maureen asleep?”
“Probably. Don’t worry about that right now, though. Let’s get you situated.”
Ringo closed the door and kicked off his shoes.
“Ok, let me go get some band-aids for your hands. You can sit on the couch, and make sure to put your head between your knees. Your nose is still bleeding.”
“It is?”
Ringo took out the now blood-soaked napkin from George’s nostril.
“We have napkins here, hold on.”
“I’m pretty sure Mo doesn’t want blood on the floor.” George mentioned, pinching his nostrils closed.
“I’ll get it later.” Ringo said, holding out a napkin. “Come and sit down, though, before you keel over.”
George nodded as he took the napkin. Ringo guided him into the living room and showed him the couch. George sat on the edge of the couch, resting his head in between his knees.
“I’ll be right back. Ok?”
George held out a shaky thumbs up, and Ringo took that as a cue to head out to find those pesky band-aids.
As soon as Ringo left the room, George moved to the floor, still using the left side of the couch as support to keep him upright. Again, he moved his head to rest in between his knees, feeling the lightheadedness begin to take hold.
Ringo came back with a variety of sizes of band-aids, and was a tad bit confused to find George on the floor.
“What are you doing there?” Ringo asked, moving closer to George.
“...I didn’t want to stain the couch. I know they can be a bitch to clean.”
“Not my priority at the moment. Let me see your hands.”
George obliged and held out his hands. Ringo took his left hand and noticed a prominent gash.
“Goddamn. I know Emerick threw you, but I didn’t think he threw you that hard.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t underestimate Geoff.”
Ringo just sighed to himself as he gently placed the band-aid on the gash.
“In hindsight, I should have bought gauze. Oh well. Remind me tomorrow and I’ll pick some up.”
“I mean, if you really say so.”
Ringo moved to pick up George’s other hand, and noticed a couple of smaller cuts. He patched these up with no issue and began rolling up George’s right sleeve.
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Hunter in the Butterfly
FanfictionPaul has enough of George's seemed incompetence, but when he accidentally goes too far in showing his frustration, George feels as though no one has his back. He tries to deal with the situation alone, but Brian pays too much attention to context cl...
