Come Together

8: Search (SMUT)

"Where's George?!"

Ringo was awoken from his deep sleep by the panicked voice of his manager.

"Whazzat, Eppy...?" He muttered thickly, sitting up with difficulty and wiping at his crusty eyes with his ring-studded hands.

"George isn' 'ere!" Brian replied, panic driving his voice higher as he spoke. "I've checked the lobby, I've asked John and Paul, they 'aven't seen 'im since las' night! Our meeting 's in two hours! And his acoustic guitar 's gone, too..."

The man collapsed onto George's empty bed, wiping his perspiring forehead with a heavy sigh. He looked miserable and very stressed.

Ringo pushed back the warm covers and got to his feet, trying extremely hard to resist the urge to crawl back into bed. "Ok!" He exclaimed determinedly, stifling a yawn. "Everythin' will be ok, Eppy. We jus' gotta split up in the 'otel to fin' Georgie, alrigh'...? If all of us look, it won' be long before we find 'im!"

The manager nodded, calming slightly. "We better find 'im fast..." he muttered darkly. Then he rose to his feet and looked deep into Ringo's eyes while gripping his shoulders. "I'm sorry, lad," he sighed, "I'm suppos' to be professional and calm abou' this..." he scowled at himself. "Les' do this then. I need to calm down. It can't be 'elpin you any."

"Les' get John 'n Paul," Ringo said with a reassuring smile. "Divide and conquer, ya know?"

The two men cracked open the connecting door and stepped softly into room 458.

"C'mon, you two!" Ringo exclaimed, trying to hide the actual worry he was now beginning to feel.

Where was George, the sweet, shy Beatle, the one who made Ringo's day brighter? Was he lost somewhere in the city? Stumbling, lonely, scared...

Ringo shook his head to clear his frantic thoughts with a scowl. "No. We're not goin' there..." he muttered to himself determinedly. 

John emerged from the bathroom, face a bit flushed, eyes sparkling. "Oh, hey, still 'aven't found George, then?" He said with concern. The guitarist noticed Brian's drawn face and he sighed heavily. "Shit. Let's get to it, then...C'MON MACCA!"

Both Ringo and Brian jumped slightly as John bellowed mightily. "Appreciate the...enthusiasm..." Brian muttered sarcastically. He raised his eyebrows as Paul cautiously walked out of the bathroom. "What we you lads- oh, nevamind, we've gotta find George!" Their manager leapt into action, striding towards the door and throwing John and Paul's blazers at them.

"Oh, an' don' leave your jackets lying on the bed!" he cried as he swept out of the room. "Don' want 'em getting wrinkled, now. Hurry now!" 

"So, George is jus'...gone?" Ringo asked hollowly as the three young men hurried to follow Brian to the elevator.

"Yea, we 'adn't seen 'im since last night," John explained, "an' this morning, Eppy walks in, all panic like. He says he can' fin' Georgie. I'm not worried at firs', but when Eppy said 'is  guitar was gone too...now tha' scared me." 

Despite the situation, Paul smirked as the mention of last night sent a rush of blood to his genitals. He felt light headed suddenly, but in a good way. "Yeah...las' night..." he muttered with a soft groan.

John shot the bassist a look of warning as the man joined Brian in the elevator. "No." He mouthed firmly at the doe-eyed man.

Ringo glanced between them curiously, but worry for George still dominated his brain. He was frantically running through scenarios in his head.