The Silenced Drummer

Chapter 20: Sacrifice

(WARNING! This chapter contains implied rape at the end. Read at your own risk.)

Harold, opening his eyes, pulled away from Ringo, who turned his head to the side as tears continued streaming down his face.

"What did you say, George?" He asked, standing up and turning around.

George glared at him, hot tears escaping his eyes as he repeated those three words.

"Take me instead."

Harold tilted his head to the side and smirked, crossing his arms.

"Now, what kind of thing pushed a man like you to say that?"

George raised his head up, not even caring about what he was setting himself up for.

"I'll do whatever you want! Just..." His body seemed to sag a bit, and he lowered his head, closing his eyes.

"Just leave him alone... You can do w-whatever you want to me... p-please..."

Ringo turned his head and stared at the guitarist, eyes wide at what he was saying.

Harold walked towards the Beatle in the chair.

"You have a lot of guts, you know that?"

George did not answer, instead taking deep breaths in and out, refusing to move his head.

A hand placed itself on his chin, turning his head up, and allowing his tear-soaked face to be seen by Harold.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, George opened his eyes.

His dark brown eyes stared into ones that were so much lighter than his own, and they were were staring straight into him with indifference.

"Tell me to my face what you want me to do."

Lips quivering, George answered.

"Y-you... you can..."

"Can what?"

"h-have... have your way with me..."

George could not believe what he was saying. 

Never in a million years would he have thought that a scenario like this could happen.

But, nevertheless, if it meant keeping Ringo safe, then he had to do it.

Harold pulled his hand away and laughed.

"Oh, this cannot be real! You care so much for that drummer that you're willing to take the fall for him? Oh, how delightful!"

Harold reached into his other pocket, pulling out a knife.

"Though, I have to say, I didn't think I'd have to use this so soon."

Ringo watched helplessly as the rope that bound George to the chair was cut. 

Harold put the knife back in his pocket and pulled George up.

"I'm not untying your hands though. Understand?"

George only nodded, clenching his teeth as he lowered his head in shame.

"And we're taking this upstairs."

Body shaking, he let Harold move him to the staircase.

He could not muster the courage to even glance at Ringo, who for sure was just as scared as he was.

As Harold guided him up the first few steps, George could not stop himself from letting out a whimper.

"I... I-I'm s-sorry Ringo..." he barely manage to say out loud.

Ringo could not move to see him as the pair walked up to the basement's door.

Once he heard the door open and shut, he looked down at himself.

He was all alone in that basement. 

Every silent minute that passed seemed like it lasted days for Ringo. He didn't know if it would have been worse for it to be broken.

The basement was dark and cold, and knowing just what was going on upstairs made his mind go into a paralyzed state.

He could not think about anything other than how dark and quiet the basement was.

Even now, he could barely see what was on the wall opposite of him, even though he knew that there was nothing there.

Not even the faint sound of a mouse running across the floor could be heard.

It was silent.

That was, until...

A loud sound resonated from upstairs, snapping Ringo out of his state and making him turn his head up. 

A scream.

George's scream.

Tears began to flood down Ringo's cheeks as he slowly lowered his head.

He wanted to yell.

He wanted to protest.

He wanted to do... something... anything...

But, he couldn't.

The sound of something hitting the wooden floorboards upstairs echoed in the basement, though it was nowhere near as loud as what Ringo heard before.

Still, every bang tore at his heart.

He knew what was happening up there, and...

Ringo thought about all the times he had spent with George.

All of those times they had laughed together.

All of those times that they had made love to each other.

He even remembered how George had comforted him when he got back to the hotel from the hospital.

Ringo knew, at the back of his head, that, even if they both somehow made it out of this alive, both George and he would never be the same.

Ringo's breath became heavy and laboured as his tears started to puddle on the cold, unforgiving floor beneath him.