The Beatles Short Stories

We Can Work It Out

"Is that the best you can come up with? Cause, if so, it's a shame."
"Lay off, John. I don't see you writing anything better!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm not the one writing about some lonely woman and a priest."
"Don't even start with me. You're writing about some imaginary doctor, so, I don't think you can say too much."
John and Paul had been at each other all day. The Beatles were in the middle of recording their new album "Revolver," but Lennon and McCartney couldn't agree on anything, which was really starting to get on George and Ringo's nerves.
"I can't? Really? Because, last time I checked, you wouldn't even be here without me!"
John could tell that his remark had struck a nerve with Paul and he suddenly felt a sense of pride.
"What does that even mean?" Paul rolled his eyes, trying not to sound unnerved.
"Don't act like you don't know! I mean that if I wasn't here The Beatles wouldn't even exist!"
"Alright, that's quite enough!" George Martin interrupted as he looked between an angry John and Paul.
"Why? Is it because we don't wanna hurt Princess's feelings?"
"Shut up John! You know what? I'm done!" And with that being said, Paul grabbed his coat and left, slamming the studio door on the way out.
"Way to go, John. Now, we'll never finish," George groaned.
"Well, if he wasn't so darn sensitive..." John started.
"He's not being sensitive! You're the one being mean!" Ringo cut in.
"Whatever," John said as he walked out of the studio and into the cool outdoors.
"I think we all need a break," said George as he rubbed his, now aching, head.
"I think you're right," Ringo agreed.
"A nice cuppa tea sounds pretty good. Would you like to go grab some?" George asked the drummer.
"Sure," he replied.
"Alright then."
The duo walked outside to the parking lot to find John standing there smoking.
"John, we're about to get a cuppa tea. Would you like to join us?" Ringo offered.
John continued to stand still, expressionless.
"Alright then, we'll leave ya to it," said Ringo as he gave George a weirded out look.
The two hopped in the car and were off to get their tea. The car ride was quiet for a few minutes before Ringo broke the silence.
"I wonder where Paul went off to?"
"I don't know. I hope he's alright, though. I'm not sure if he drove his car to the studio today or not."
"Why wouldn't he have?"
"Well, he recently bought a moped. He's been wanting to give it a go."
"How did I not know that?"
"The world may never know, Ringo," George smiled.
"I suppose it won't."
Silence then took over the rest of the car ride as the two Beatles couldn't think of anything but, Paul, John, and a nice cup of tea.
Meanwhile, Paul was speeding down the many roads of London, not really going anywhere in particular. He had simply had enough of John's childish behavior and needed some time to cool down. So, taking his new moped around the famous city seemed to be the best option to him. Although, speeding around in a moped when you're extremely irritated isn't the best thing to do, Paul didn't care. He just kept speeding away, lost in thought. "You wouldn't even be here without me," was the phrase that kept repeating in Paul's mind. "How could he say that," he thought. But, his sour thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a frantic scream shouting the words, "Watch out!" "What do they mean?" was the last thing Paul thought before everything went pitch black.
George and Ringo had made it to the cafe and were now ordering two cups of tea. After a small wait, they received their warm drinks and took a seat by the window.
"That really hits the spot," said Ringo as he took a sip of the liquid heaven.
"Sure does," George agreed.
About that time, John, of all people, stumbled into the small cafe, obviously looking for someone. After setting eyes upon who he was searching for, he made his way over to the two surprised Beatles.
"John, what on earth are you doing here?" asked Ringo.
"I just realized that a cuppa tea didn't sound too bad," he replied as he took a seat beside the drummer.
"What made you change your mind?" George inquired.
"Look, the truth is, I wanted to apologize for acting like a jerk. I don't know what got into me, but I now know that I was out of line and it, hopefully, won't happen again."
"What do you mean by hopefully?" asked Ringo with a smile.
"I mean I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again, but I'm not making any promises," John laughed.
"Alright, well, I thank you for your apology and you are forgiven," said George.
"Same goes for me too," Ringo said as he patted John's shoulder.
"I wish I could have apologized to Paul but I have no idea where he is."
"Did you check his flat?" questioned George.
"Yes, that was the first place I checked, but..."
"What's that crowd about across the street?" Ringo suddenly interrupted.
"What crowd?" John asked, but soon realized the crowd Ringo was talking about. There were about twenty people or so all huddled around something. Some had their hands clutched to their mouths, other's mouths were clearly agape, and there was one person running to a phone booth.
"Let's go see what all of the commotion is about," suggested George, as the three of them quickly made their way outside and across the street.
"Excuse me, but what's this all about?" John asked an elderly lady.
"Some unfortunate fellow has had an accident I'm afraid," she answered.
"Oh," was all a, now worried, John could muster.
"Oh my gosh! John, come here quick!" shouted George.
John slowly made his way to the front of the crowd and almost blacked out at the sight of what he was greeted with. A bloody and unconscious Paul laid on the cold concrete, completely unaware of the crowd that had surrounded him. His new moped was barely recognizable, obviously due to being smashed in the wreck.
"Paul! Oh my gosh! It's all my fault!" John cried as he bent down to Paul's level.
"John, it's not the time for that now! Has somebody called an ambulance or something?" Ringo yelled.
"Yes, I believe they're on their way," replied a businessman.
"Good."
"Paul, please wake up. Please," John whispered as he held his friend's hand. Paul never moved and the pained expression on his pale face still lingered. "Please, Paul."
About that time, sirens could be heard in the distance.
"Thank goodness," breathed Ringo.
The ambulance stopped and three paramedics made their way over to Paul.
"Could you please step back so we can check on him?" asked one of the three.
John, George, and Ringo did as they were told and got out of the way. The paramedic then took Paul's wrist to check his pulse. After an inaudible mutter, he took out a small flashlight and shined it at one of Paul's hazel eyes. "Hmm," was all he said. After they had finished checking the rest of the vital signs, they loaded him into the ambulance.
"What's wrong with him? Why isn't he waking up?" John asked the paramedic.
"Well, he seems to have some kind of brain injury. We'll know for sure when we get him to the hospital."
"Thanks," John replied as he choked back a sob.
"Come on, John. Let's see if we can get to the hospital by the time the ambulance does," said George.
"I hope he's alright. I would never forgive myself if he..." John began to cry.
"Don't talk like that! He'll be okay. He's so stubborn after all," smiled Ringo through tears.
"He is stubborn," John agreed as the three of them got into the car.
"Yes, and somebody as stubborn as Paul wouldn't just give up," reassured George as he started to drive.
"Right."
The ambulance had first arrived at the hospital and the paramedics rushed Paul inside. Paul still hadn't woken up and that was really starting to worry the medics. A couple of nurses soon realized that it was time to take action. They asked the paramedics what had happened before yelling a doctor's name and rushing Paul down the grey hallway.
"Doctor Robert! This man needs help!" one of them shouted.
Quite promptly, Doctor Robert appeared and asked one of them what had happened.
"He was in a moped accident. The medics said that he probably has a brain injury."
"Alright then, get him an X-Ray and then we'll know for a fact," the doctor replied.
John, George, and Ringo had almost made it to the hospital. George was driving which left John in the passenger seat and Ringo in the back seat. The only sounds that could be heard was the hum of the engine and an occasional whimper from John.
"John, are you alright?" George asked.
"No! My best friend was just in an accident that I caused! If I hadn't been yelling at him this wouldn't have happened!"
"Don't start blaming yourself. It was Paul's decision to ride," reasoned George.
"Yeah, but I'm the one that caused him to go off riding anyway!"
"Still, it's not your fault. What's important now is for Paul to be alright."
"You're right there."
The three Beatles had finally made it to the hospital. George took the lead as they walked up to the front desk.
"Excuse me. We're looking for Paul McCartney," he asked.
"The Paul McCartney?" the lady asked with a look of doubt.
"Yes, the Paul McCartney. Now could you tell us where he is and how he's doing?" John said with an expression of annoyance and worry.
"Well, it looks like he suffered a concussion, a broken wrist, and a busted lip. He's in room 731, but I'm not sure if the doctor will allow visitors."
"Thank you very much," said Ringo.
"Alright, to room 731!" George exclaimed.
The three had finally made it off of the elevator and were now a few steps away from the correct room number until they were interrupted.
"Excuse me. Who are you?" an elderly nurse asked the impatient three.
"We're friends of his. May we see him?" Ringo asked nicely.
"I'm not sure. Let me ask the doctor," she replied looking slightly annoyed.
John looked at his other friends and took a deep breath, looking understandably worried. They looked back at him and shared the same look.
"Okay, the doctor said that you may see him, but he probably won't be awake," the nurse, finally replied as she reentered the hallway.
"Oh, good!" Ringo cheered. "Let's go in then."
The other two nodded while Ringo walked over to the door and quietly turned the doorknob. They entered the room to find Paul, sleeping contentedly. His arm was in a cast and there was a bandage wrapped around his head. His lip was busted and, upon further inspection, they found that his tooth was chipped.
"Oh, my!" George whispered.
"Hey Paul. Can you hear me?" asked Ringo as he stepped closer to the bassist.
No reply.
"He's been asleep for a while now. Shouldn't he wake up?" John worried.
"Yeah, you'd think," George agreed.
"It's the concussion. It must have been a hard hit," sighed Ringo.
"Oh this is terrible!" cried John. "This should never have happened!"
"Look John..." Ringo started but was interrupted.
"Oh, Paul! I'm so sorry! I was such a horrible friend and now look what I've caused! You would have never treated me like that!" John cried as he held Paul's cold hand.
"You sure about that?" drifted faintly from Paul's mouth.
"Paul! You're awake!" they all cried.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? It's not bedtime already, is it?"
"No, Paul. I'm just so happy you're okay! Look, I'm sorry for everything," said John as he attempted to hug his friend.
"I know you are, and you're forgiven. But, I'm sorry too. I said some things I regret as well."
"No, Paul. You have nothing to be sorry about. I was the one that started the whole thing and look what happened to you because of it."
"What did happen, anyway?" he asked as he took notice of his injuries for the first time.
"Well, we suppose that you were about to pull out in front of a car, but to avoid it, you hit a pole. The nurse said that you have a concussion, a broken wrist, and a busted lip. Oh, and also, you're tooth is kinda chipped," answered George.
"Oh," Paul gasped looking a bit bewildered.
"You gave us quite a scare, as you could imagine," smiled Ringo.
"I'm glad I could do that to you guys. Almost getting run over was my way of getting back at you for every stupid thing that you've gotten me into over the years," Paul chuckled.
The others laughed. After about twenty minutes, Paul began to get sleepy. The others took notice and asked a nurse if he was supposed to sleep or not, taking the concussion into consideration. She said that he could, except he would have to be woken up every few hours. They thanked her and went back to Paul's room only to find that he had already dozed off. Ringo smiled and pulled the blanket up to Paul's chin, as an attempt to make him comfortable. He then turned to the others and said, "What do you guys want to do? Stay here or go home?"
"I'm not leaving him," John said firmly.
"Neither am I," George agreed.
"Alright, then. We'll spend the night," the drummer shrugged as he hopped over to the small sofa in the corner of the dull room.
"Hey! What about us?" George complained.
"Two words. The floor."
"Whatever," John moaned. He was way too tired to argue anyway. All he had on his mind was the fact that Paul was going to be alright. He looked up at his sleeping friend and whispered, "Goodnight, Paul. Sweet dreams," before falling into a deep sleep himself. So, the four Beatles slept, knowing now how much their friendship meant and also realizing that life is very short and there's no time for fussing or fighting.

OK, first of all thanks so much for reading, and, second of all, I'd like to know if there are any suggestions for the next stories, because I'd like to write what you would like to read. Thanks!