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12 | Some Sad Af Starrison Oneshot

Hello!

I'm coming to you with a random Starrison oneshot
I've written it when I was pretty down and felt like a shit, so I just wanted to distract myself an' all

Blerghh, I'm a mess

But I love writing for this, I can just convert my emotions into words, that's great!

Disclaimer, it's sad as fuck. And it has not much plot, only disturbing topics as nuclear war. It's not even good (+ possible mistakes, oops) — just my small Calm-The-Fuck-Down-Anaria

Of course, it's Starrison. WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED!

Anyway, enjoy!

--

After~

“Guys?”

The silence was so overwhelming that the sound of their breaths seemed to shatter men’s eardrums. When one of them spoke, the rest jumped.

“Can you… ligh a candle? Please?”

“We should save it,” said Ringo quietly, but in fact he couldn’t resist Paul’s pleading tone, so he just reached for a match. Soon a small candle lightened up their faces. They looked savage. Dirty. Much time passed since the men stopped caring about their personal hygiene.

The men gazed at each other gloomily; Ringo was stairing at the floor, George was humming some song known by only him, John was looking around nervously and Paul was just laying in friend’s embrance. His skin around the face looked really bad, a streamlet of blood oosed from his face, but he didn’t even worry to wipe it. He was getting weaker and weaker.

The true horror was going on outside, though, as they believed. Bombs they’ve seen weren’t obviously the last ones dropped. They’ve seen images of destruction painted by death’s hand, ruins, ashes they have floundered in, fire they have ran away from. And everything with awareness that somewhere out there the entire cities vanished from the face of the Earth, melted with people in them. Without any warning. Quietly.

Lethally.

The four friends had evacuated, run away and hidden. Alone, surrounded by darkness and fear, without any protection, because in the face of nuclear war being Beatle couldn’t help you at all. They only had each other.

But not everyone was lucky enough to remain unaffected.

Af if to confirm it, Paul suddenly had seizures. It happened a few times before and made the rest of The Beatles panic.They had no medicines, they didn’t know hot to help him. They could only helplessly watch as they friend slowly faded away.

Right after this McCartney lost consciousness; Lennon tried to wake him up but with no result. Finally he gave up and cursed loudly, wiping away one lonely tear.

“God fucking dammit!”

George frowned, brutally taken back from his own world, to which he ran away.

“John, calm down,” whispered Ringo gently. “It’s no use.”

“Dammit!”

A violent thud in the wall; a groan of desperation.

“John, Paul is dying.”

Everybody turned to George, who spoke suddenly. He didn’t say a word so far, when the rest of them talked loudly about everything that had happened. But not him. He just sat there, hunched, as if his psyche couldn’t take it all.

But John wasn’t happy of the guitarist’s change; he looked at him with a fury. “Shut up, Harrison.”

“Paul is dying. He has spent too much time outside. He took the biggest dose of this shit from us all, and now he’s dying for the radiation sickness. We’re all probably dying.”