Paranoid (A Beatles Fanfiction)

Suicide

"Can you turn up the heat please?" George asked as he sat down lower in the passenger seat. "How are you cold? It's warm outside." "I'm thin and boney, next question." Ringo laughed and turned a heating vent towards George. He sighed in relief and got more comfortable in his seat. "Better?" "Better."

George had been nodding on and off while Ringo sang along to the radio and tapped the wheel in rhythm. But once Ringo started singing more, George stayed awake to listen to him sing.

The Animals were on the radio and the song happened to be one of the few songs Ringo knew the lyrics to.

"What's your name? Who's your daddy? Is he rich, rich like me?" "You got a lovely voice." Ringo jumped in shock, not knowing George was awake. "Jesus Christ George! You scared the shit out of me!" "I've been listening to you for a while. You sound lovely." Ringo blushed a little, "I don't sound that great, George." "Yes you do!"

Ringo sighed, "Fine, I sound better then Etta James." George snorted and snuggled back further into the car seat. "Why don't you sing on more records?" George asked, his eyes piercing Ringo. Ringo looked a little uncomfortable. "I don't know. Just not good enough I guess."

George looked shocked. "Ritchie you are good! You are amazing. You just have to force your way into it." It was silent. "Where did that come from?" Ringo asked. "I don't know, just being nice." "No the Ritchie thing?" "Thats your name isn't it?" "Well yeah, but you always call me Ringo." "Can I not call you Ritchie?" "Well, yeah you can but..." "Then Ritchie it is."

***************************************

It was nearing 1am when they finally reached the beach house. The loud crashes of the ocean could be heard loudly even though the car doors were shut. There was bright white bolts of lighting shocking the salty water from the distance. A storm was coming so Ringo had to hurry and get everything out of the car and into the house.

Ringo stopped the car and took a deep breath. He looked over to his side and saw George had fallen asleep again. George had earlier unpacked a blanket from his suitcase and his pillow. He was curled up with the blanket on and it hid his face up to the end of his nose.

Ringo stared at him. His heart broke for him. He shouldn't have to deal with this much. He should be out having fun with his bandmates, he should be able to find a girlfriend, he should be happy. There should be no tears.

Ringo wondered if things would ever get better again. All he could do is hope.

A crack of thunder his and shook Ringo from his staring. George was still fast asleep, his sleeping pill in full effect. Ringo fumbled with his keys looking for the key to the beach house. He searched and searched and then forgot...

The key was on John's keychain.

Fuck.

"Shit." Ringo cursed. That woke George up. He moaned and stretched a bit and pulled his blanket down.

"Whazthamatter?" he mumbled. "I don't have the fucking key." "What?!" "It's on John's fucking keychain. He put it on there last time we were here." Ringo opened the car door and slammed it soon after. He was pacing in front of the vehicle and running his hands in his hair.

George yawned and got out of the car. It was freezing outside to him after being wrapped in a thick blanket in a warm car. "Ritchie?" a small voice called. Ringo forgot George started calling him that. "What?" he snapped. George was taken aback. "Um, what are we gonna do?" "I don't fucking know George. Just, just give me a minute alright? I need to think."

George was a bit upset. Ringo had never pushed him away before. He had always accepted him with open arms and to be turned away like that...it hurt.

Ringo sat on the hood of his Impala and watched the sky above him. Not even thinking about how he pushed George away like that. He needed to be alone more than anything. He was sick of all the drama and not having the key to the one place he can escape to had topped it all.

George walked around to the back of the beach house, nearly tripping in the sand. He walked away from the house and onto the beach. The wind was cold and the storm was blowing in faster. Lightening strikes hit more frequently and the thunder was becoming louder. George watched the waves as they crashed to the shore. He watched for a while until his vision became blurred from tears.

It was all his fault. It was his fault Ringo was stressed, it was his fault they fought, it was his fault Paul had to call Doctor's all day long and call pharmacists to fill in prescriptions, his fault John stayed up late at night because of worry. If it wasn't for his stupid brain. His fucking stupid and fucked up brain, none of this would have happened. Tears started falling down his cheeks and he bowed his head down to his knees.

Things would have been better if he wasn't alive. No worry, no pain, no sorrow. He was driving his friends insane and pushing them to the limit.

He looked out into the ocean as the waves started getting more aggressive. The lightening was fierce and the thunder was getting louder.

And all the sudden a voice rang in his ears. "Run George, it's time."

And he did.

He ran.

***************************************

Ringo smoked three cigarettes by the time George had left. He needed to clear out his head. He needed to think. The stress was becoming too much to handle and he felt like he couldn't function.

He took another puff of his ciggie and threw it to the ground, putting it out with his shoe. He slid off the hood of the Impala and looked at the house. Surely there was some way he could break in? He walked around the front end of the house for a while, struggling to see in the dark. While walking he kept his head up looking at the house to find a way to break in, and then bam.

Ringo fell to the ground and scraped his arms on the gravel surrounding the house. "Shit!" He grumbled as he slowly got up. His arms were scraped some but were't bleeding badly. He rubbed them and stood up, groaning as he did so.

As he got up he looked behind him to see how he tripped. And there it was, a large, hard rock, waiting to be thrown into one of the many windows in the beach house.

Ringo grinned and picked it up. Finally! Something good! "George!" He yelled as he ran towards the back of the house where the beach was. "George I found a way we can get in! George!" Ringo ran to the back end of the house and looked around. "George? George!" Ringo ran frantically around the house looking for him. Idiot. The beach!

He ran to the back end of the house again and looked at the beach, George was standing by the water. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth and he smiled. "Oh George there you-" and George ran into the ocean, a giant wave engulfing him.

"GEORGE!"