Paranoid (A Beatles Fanfiction)

Wish You Were Here

John stood face to face with George, covering his bloody nose. He was surprised to see that the one who should be in bed would be up and in-front of him. In shock, John asked, "George, did you punch me?" George looked lost and Paul looked scared as hell. He even stood back a few feet.

"Yes John...I did. You were being loud and Eight doesn't like that." John hadn't even noticed George get up from his bed during his shouting match with Paul so he was still a bit stunned. "George, you have to get back in bed, come on." "NO...n-no, John. I'm fine, i'm totally okay. I'm happy." George smiled, if you could call it that. It was fake and forced with the bags under his eyes and the tear stains still fresh on his face. "I just wanted you to stop shouting is all." "Good Lord..." John whispered. "It's like someone flipped a switch!"

George was actually...calm. He was screaming and sobbing moments ago and then just all of the sudden, BAM, calm and, "happy". Doctor Watson came back into the room, no medication in hand. He was a bit shocked to see George out of bed. "Mr. Harrison, what are you doing up?" George shrugged. "I don't know. Eight told me to calm down so I did. And I was tired of sitting. But i'm happy. Yeah...i'm happy now." George looked hollow. It was eerie actually. Like he was possessed almost. And who the fuck was this, "Eight" George kept talking about?

Doctor Watson looked over to John, still cradling his bloody nose. "John, is it?" Doctor Watson asked. John nodded. "Yeah, I'm John." "John I'm gonna send you down to a nurse to fix that nose. What happened?" "Eight told me to." George replied silently, now sitting down on the hospital bed. "George, who is Eight?" Paul asked. "He's a friend. A shapeshifter actually. He's friendly. And nice. I like him more than I do most people. And he was annoyed at you and John's shouting and stuff so he told me to go ahead and end it."

Doctor Watson nodded. "Right, well, John, just go two doors down and there's a nurse that will be inside that deals with small cuts and bruises and such. First Aid things. She can fix up your nose. George, what would you think about doing an MRI Scan?. Also, where is Mr. Epstein?" "He left during me and John's...discussion." Paul said, a little embarrassed. Doctor Watson nodded. "Right, well, keep these, "discussions" under control in-front of George, alright? And, just in general. We are in a hospital." John and Paul nodded.

George looked a bit worried. "Eight wants to know what an MRI scan is." Doctor Watson smiled, "It's a scan to look at your brain to check and see if anything is wrong physically." George thought for a moment. "Eight says it's stupid and that I'm fine." Doctor Watson cleared his throat and ran a hand through his short, blond hair. "George you do realize that Eight isn't real, right? He's just a figment of your imagination."

George scoffed, "No, he's real! We have discussions and conversations and he helps me and comforts me. He's more of a friend to me than anyone. And he protects me from the Shadow." "The Shadow?" "Yes, he's mean. Faceless and a stitched mouth and eyes and all that. He scares me. Eight couldn't protect me last time so that's why I'm here. I got scared and Eight was late behind."

Doctor Watson nodded. "John, Paul, may I speak to you in the hallway please?" they both nodded, leaving George sitting on the bed alone. Once the door shut, Doctor Watson sighed. "I reviewed his medications with Gina. And I found he's on low milligrams of depressive, anxiety and schizophrenic medication. He's clearly schizophrenic from going from crying and panicking from a hallucination one second and then speaking in a voice that has no emotion and looking robotic the next. I believe after what George has told me and you two as well that he need's to be sent to Highland Mental Hospital for evaluation. I thought about doing an MRI like I mentioned to George but this is clearly psychological. I can call for a police escort to Highland if you'd like. But I am going to have to sedate George. I can mix some Ny-Quill powder into a glass of water and as soon as he's asleep then we can call for an escort. But here, there's not much he can do. If you'd like, you can go find your manager and your other friend back to George's room and we can talk this over."

Paul and John nodded, but John quickly asked, "Can I get my nose fixed first?" Doctor Watson nodded. "Yes, right this way." As Doctor Watson lead John to another room, he yelled, "Paul, go find Eppy and Ringo. I'll be out soon."

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Ringo stood out-side of the hospital entrance, smoking cigarette after cigarette to keep warm from the quick lowing temperature. Snow was in the forecast for tonight and you could strongly feel it in the air. A few flakes had already started to fall here and there making way for the big storm ahead.

Ringo was tired. Tired from lack of sleep, touring and now stuck at a hospital because their guitarist was losing his mind. Everything in Ringo's rarely pessimistic mind was going straight to hell.

The air was getting colder and colder as the snow storm started to approach. There was a small TV inside the waiting room and he was going to ask if he could turn the TV to check the weather. But, he didn't want to risk seeing John or Paul. It was too risky. He knew they would be mad at him for leaving George because of his own selfish needs. He felt like a dick for running away, but felt relieved not to hear George's cries any longer.

The door opened to the entrance and out came Paul, looking more worn out than ever. "Have ye a good cry, Rings?" Paul asked. Ringo scoffed. "I didn't cry. I just couldn't see him like this...it just got to me." "So you cried?" "Fucking hell, Paul, what do you want?" "The Doctor is going to send George to Highland by police escort and wants us to be there for the ride I guess. He said for me to come find you and Brian." "Where's Brian?" "I um...well me and John had a row and he left after I yelled at him some." "Fuck Paul, what's your problem today?

Paul sighed. "I...I don't know. I feel like I have to be in control because no one else is stable enough." "Paul, John sat with George and fucking HELD the lad while he cried and you're wanting to be in control? John explained everything, John rooms with George. He's in control, not you or me or Brian though he is our manager. It's John." Paul sighed heavily. He looked and saw the pack of cigarettes hanging slightly out of Ringo's pocket. "Woodbine?" Ringo nodded. "Can I bum one off you?" "Be my guest." Ringo mumbled as he threw his cigarette to the ground, not bothering to stomp it out.

Paul slide down against the wall Ringo was siting against and sat close beside him. "Personal space?" Ringo asked. Paul shrugged. "It's fuckin' cold Ringo, shut up." Ringo laughed a bit and pulled out a cigarette and handed it to Paul. "Ta." Paul said, pulling out a lighter and lighting it.

A long silence was held until Paul finished his cigarette. Neither would say anything. The snow was starting to fall and time was being wasted just sitting against the building not saying or doing anything. The silence was broke by a small sniff coming from Ringo. "I'm scared, Paul." Ringo finally admitted, silent tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. Paul put an arm around him to comfort the both of them and keep warm. Tears were building behind Paul's eyes as well and they broke once Paul spoke. "I am to, Rings. I really am."

The snow kept falling.

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