I'll get you

Chapter 1

Summary: The Beatles manager, Brian Epstein, is found dead in his house. Soon, it becomes clear that he was murdered. But who did it? And why? Everyone is a suspect.

Warnings: BIP (Beatles/Brian In Pain), Strong language.

I won't be able to update this story often, because of school ;( but I'll do my best.

Please comment and vote if you like!

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His body hurt everywhere. His eyes were watery and blood was driping down from his head. He looked up one final time. "Why?" He asked. "You know why. You know what you did to this world." The person with the knife answered, and raised his hand. "No..." The victim said, but it was too late. The already bloody knife landed on the man's body and did its fatal work.

The killer looked around. He had thought that after doing this he'd be happy, or at least delighted,. But instead he felt nervous and angry. He looked at the knife, which was still in his hand. With this knife he'd killed the man. He would treat it as a treasure from now on.

The murderer shot a last look at the, now dead, body, before he turned away. He didn't have any experience with this. He had no idea what the police was going to do. Not even what he could do to keep out of their hands. He stood still in the doorway and made his decision. He'd continue life, like normal. After all, people said he was a good actor.

*The next day*

Paul, Ringo, George and John were practising in the studio. "What's that part again? The dudududu daa thing?" Paul asked. "This?" George played a little riff on his guitar. "Yeah, thanks."

"I'm gonna get some coffee, anyone want to come?" John asked. Paul stood up. "Yeah sure." He yawned. "Ringo, are you coming too?"

"Nah... I have this little tune in my head that I want to work out. But you can bring me a cookie." Ringo shouted from the back of the sudio. "One cookie. And for George three cookies then, I think?" George nodded. "Okay, good luck with your song, Ringo." John said, putting on his coat.

As Paul and John walked down the street, John noticed that people were staring. Of course, they always did when they saw one of the Beatles passing, but this was different. It was more of a... sad, or sympathic stare.

"Why are they staring like that?" John asked. Paul shrugged, he'd noticed it too. "Dunno. And there's not even one person who asks for an autograph." He said. It gave him a strange feeling, like something bad was going to happen, or had happened.

They arrived at the starbucks. It wasn't very busy, at this time in the morning. "Two coffee please. And six cookies." John ordered. The girl behind the bar nodded and smiled at him sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss." She said. "Our what?" John asked. "Your loss. I'm very sorry for you." The girl pointed at a newspaper that was lying on a table. Paul walked towards it.

"What..." He whispered in shock when he saw the headline.

Beatles' manager Brian Epstein found dead in his house.

This morning, the Beatles' manager Brian Epstein was found dead in his house. He was stabbed with a knife multiple times and...

Paul didn't read any further. "John?" He called with a shaking voice. John was still standing at the bar, receiving the coffee and the cookies. He walked over to Paul, who looked at the paper horrified. "What''s up?" John asked and put the plate on the table.

"It's Brian... he's..." Paul managed to say. John froze. Paul showed him the newspaper. "Look here. It happened yesterday." He said softly. John grabbed the paper and held it close to his face, holding his breath.

"No..." It suddenly felt as if there was a stone in his throat. He didn't want to cry, not now. He swallowed. "It's not possible." He said with a harsh voice. "We'd have known it, they'd have told us first!"

Paul put his arm around John's shoulders. "Let's go back to the studio and ask everyone, okay?" He said. John nodded.

When they came back the studio seemed a living dead area. Ringo was sitting behind his drums, quietly sobbing, and George was strumming the same chord over and over again. Ringo looked up when the door opened and John and Paul came in.

"Is it true? Is Brian..." Paul asked nervously. Ringo nodded and immediately broke down in tears. "NO!" John screamed. He turned to the wall and started to kick it, tears running down his face.

"John... please stop, you're hurting yourself." Paul said. John fell to the ground in misery, putting him arms over his head. Paul, who hadn't really realised what had happened yet, picked John up and carried him to the nearest couch. Then he finally broke down and started to cry hysterically. Why Brian? He couldn't think clearly anymore. In fact, nobody could.