Categories > Celebrities > Beatles
Here beside me
0 reviewsHinted Starrison but nothing graphic. George has a hard time after an accident. Based on the song Skinny Love by Birdy. PG-13 due to mentions of self harm.
0Unrated
A/u: Hey! Welcome to my first Beatles fanfiction! I have many many Starrison ideas but it takes me a while to get them down! This was the first one to be fully written out. I really hope you enjoy it. I do worry about OOC-ness.
Disclaimer: This is purely fictional and none profitable
Warnings: Mentions of self harm and depressive nature. Please do not read if it's likely to be a trigger.
It hadn’t meant to be quite that deep, George mused watching the warm, thick liquid stain the gleaming white porcelain a sickly red. It was only supposed to be a distraction from Him. The one consuming his every thought like a fire consumes wood, getting through it in seconds and demanding more. The images of the past week engraved themselves in his mind. Taunting him. Making him regret every second wasted when he was with him. That funny little drummer of theirs. Never too serious. His harmless joking bringing out the best of everyone. That was why George couldn’t help but love him. Despite the stinging running along his arm, George smiled in a bittersweet way at every memory running like a film in front of his eyes. They ran faster and faster until a solid image stood in the doorway he swore he locked. Even more unbelievable was the figure stood there. All 5’6” of him. George couldn’t take his eyes off the crystal blue orbs, shining bright in the dimly lit bathroom. He watched them flick around the owners surroundings. George watched the frown appear on his face, could almost hear the cogs in his mind working as he put everything together.
“What happened here?”
Although George had a feeling Ringo already knew to an extent, he just shrugged. He might know what but he certainly didn’t need to know why, which, would most likely be the next question.
“Oh, George”
Something seemed odd about this meeting. About Ringo himself. The back of Georges mind tried to put forward this fear but the young lad was too overwhelmed to listen to it.
“This was over me, wasn’t it?”
The widening of Georges chocolate eyes confirmed it. He stood there like a frightened child being caught doing something wrong. After a few deep breaths George slowly stepped forward, hand outstretched. When Ringo moved away he dropped his hand looking as rejected as he felt.
“Joj.”
Ringos voice rang clear and calm. No anger like George had expected. Not even disappointment. It sounded… sad. George looked up indicating he was ready to listen.
“I know it may be hard, but you have to let go. Let me go.”
The realisation of what he was being asked hit George with the force of a wrecking ball. His head began to shake.
“Listen to me. You must!”
“I can’t!”
George shocked himself as his cracked voice shouted back.
“Please Joj! Let me go! Cut the ropes! Keep yourself balanced and fine. Be patient and I will be with you.”
George stared. Did this mean he… Knew? But how? Did Paul tell him? What if John caught wind of it all and blabbed? All of these questions built, burning to be asked to the oddly calm drummer before him. The desperation made George cling to him, to the memories that seemed to have summoned him harder.
“Joj”
He spoke softly again.
“If you don’t, all this love, your love, is wasted. Let it go! Who will love you if you don’t? Who will be there to fight for you?”
George bit his lip and closed his eyes as Ringo whispered please. Maybe it was Ringos begging tone, or maybe it was because George could never truly say no to him that pushed George into wiping his mind of the haunting thoughts involving Ringo. He began concentrating on anything that came to mind. Lyrics, chord progressions, hell, even when he would need to restring his guitar. What felt like hours later, George opened his eyes to find himself alone. Ringo gone. The blood dried. He quickly dried his eyes. Pauls voice drifted through the open bathroom window. He and John had returned, shouting all variations of Georges name they could think of. George quickly cleaned up the striking red from the sink, bandaged his arm and pulled his sleeve over his arm. He flushed the bloody tissue roll, making sure John or Paul wouldn’t find any evidence of his actions today. He went to join the pair, still shouting downstairs. However it seemed Paul couldn’t wait as came racing up to the landing, grabbing a confused George by the shoulders. Before George could question what was going on, Paul cut him off with one life changing sentence;
“Ritchie’s woken up.”
A/U: I know it's not very long. But I really hoped you enjoyed it! Fun fact: Ritchie was originally dead in this story but I was convinced to give it a happier (and kind of open available for a follow up) ending.
StarrisonSubmarine xx
Disclaimer: This is purely fictional and none profitable
Warnings: Mentions of self harm and depressive nature. Please do not read if it's likely to be a trigger.
It hadn’t meant to be quite that deep, George mused watching the warm, thick liquid stain the gleaming white porcelain a sickly red. It was only supposed to be a distraction from Him. The one consuming his every thought like a fire consumes wood, getting through it in seconds and demanding more. The images of the past week engraved themselves in his mind. Taunting him. Making him regret every second wasted when he was with him. That funny little drummer of theirs. Never too serious. His harmless joking bringing out the best of everyone. That was why George couldn’t help but love him. Despite the stinging running along his arm, George smiled in a bittersweet way at every memory running like a film in front of his eyes. They ran faster and faster until a solid image stood in the doorway he swore he locked. Even more unbelievable was the figure stood there. All 5’6” of him. George couldn’t take his eyes off the crystal blue orbs, shining bright in the dimly lit bathroom. He watched them flick around the owners surroundings. George watched the frown appear on his face, could almost hear the cogs in his mind working as he put everything together.
“What happened here?”
Although George had a feeling Ringo already knew to an extent, he just shrugged. He might know what but he certainly didn’t need to know why, which, would most likely be the next question.
“Oh, George”
Something seemed odd about this meeting. About Ringo himself. The back of Georges mind tried to put forward this fear but the young lad was too overwhelmed to listen to it.
“This was over me, wasn’t it?”
The widening of Georges chocolate eyes confirmed it. He stood there like a frightened child being caught doing something wrong. After a few deep breaths George slowly stepped forward, hand outstretched. When Ringo moved away he dropped his hand looking as rejected as he felt.
“Joj.”
Ringos voice rang clear and calm. No anger like George had expected. Not even disappointment. It sounded… sad. George looked up indicating he was ready to listen.
“I know it may be hard, but you have to let go. Let me go.”
The realisation of what he was being asked hit George with the force of a wrecking ball. His head began to shake.
“Listen to me. You must!”
“I can’t!”
George shocked himself as his cracked voice shouted back.
“Please Joj! Let me go! Cut the ropes! Keep yourself balanced and fine. Be patient and I will be with you.”
George stared. Did this mean he… Knew? But how? Did Paul tell him? What if John caught wind of it all and blabbed? All of these questions built, burning to be asked to the oddly calm drummer before him. The desperation made George cling to him, to the memories that seemed to have summoned him harder.
“Joj”
He spoke softly again.
“If you don’t, all this love, your love, is wasted. Let it go! Who will love you if you don’t? Who will be there to fight for you?”
George bit his lip and closed his eyes as Ringo whispered please. Maybe it was Ringos begging tone, or maybe it was because George could never truly say no to him that pushed George into wiping his mind of the haunting thoughts involving Ringo. He began concentrating on anything that came to mind. Lyrics, chord progressions, hell, even when he would need to restring his guitar. What felt like hours later, George opened his eyes to find himself alone. Ringo gone. The blood dried. He quickly dried his eyes. Pauls voice drifted through the open bathroom window. He and John had returned, shouting all variations of Georges name they could think of. George quickly cleaned up the striking red from the sink, bandaged his arm and pulled his sleeve over his arm. He flushed the bloody tissue roll, making sure John or Paul wouldn’t find any evidence of his actions today. He went to join the pair, still shouting downstairs. However it seemed Paul couldn’t wait as came racing up to the landing, grabbing a confused George by the shoulders. Before George could question what was going on, Paul cut him off with one life changing sentence;
“Ritchie’s woken up.”
A/U: I know it's not very long. But I really hoped you enjoyed it! Fun fact: Ritchie was originally dead in this story but I was convinced to give it a happier (and kind of open available for a follow up) ending.
StarrisonSubmarine xx
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