This is a period fic based in their earlier days. Catagorized as Hurt/Comfort. No smut.
Imagine the other three Beatles trailing out of the studio for a smoke break, looks of defeated exhaustion on their faces. "What's going down, guys? You ask as Georgie lights up, John throws his hands in the air and saunters down the street; and Paulie answers you. "It's Ringo, love. Something's gotten to him and we can't talk any sense through his head. We give up. Maybe you could talk to him? He is yours, you know? He said, sass dripping through like honey. "Alright, then. Gimme a minute." Say you as you enter the studio.
Once you set foot inside, your ears are met with the sound of your beautiful Ringo shouting nonsense and throwing things. Heavy bangs and crashes reverberated off the walls. "Ringo?! You call out and the shouting stops. The banging, however; continues. You continue walking until you see him; your small love shaking with fury, screaming a string of sounds and over handing his snare against the wall. "Ringo, honey. What's the matter? You ask as you step up to him. Without warning and in the heat of his moment, he whirled around and slapped you across your face. "That does it! You think as you turn to face him, your tone deep and threatening. "I don't think so, Richard Starkey! You growl as you hold your own against him. "I have no idea what's going on, but I know for damn sure that it gives you NO right to hit me. Now, try again; Richard. Just what the Hells is going on? You scold, hands on your hips.
Before you know it, the rage and fury that had once burned so hotly in his eyes turned to defeated sadness as his ocean blue eyes burst into tears. "I'm so sorry, Love. I carn't." He sobbed and fell into your arms, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he cried. "Shhhh....baby, don't cry." You soothe and stroke his hair. When you feel his hot tears drop onto your skin, you nearly cry with him. "Tell me what's wrong, Richie." You encourage and he takes a deep breath before opening up. "It's Paul. He says me drumming stinks, me song writing stinks; everything I do stinks to him. I carn't do it anymore, love." You rub his back and squeeze him tight while he cries, his body trembling with sobs against yours. Once he'd calmed down a bit, you pulled away and looked at him. "Look at me, Richard." You begin. "Everything Paul says is a lie because he is jealous of everything you are. You are a strong, talented; loving beauty and he can't cope. Don't ever let him tell you any different, Starkey." You finish and he smiles. You only ever call him Starkey to make him laugh and it works. He wipes his tears and kisses you deeply. "Thanks, Babe. You're the best."
-Fin
