Psycho Killer || Starrison

Chapter Fourteen

The words swung in the air, its echo kept repeating in Richard's mind over and over.

Because I love you.

Oh, how much he wanted to simply believe that George is crazy, has gone mad, came up with a story to excuse all his crimes. But his chocolate brown eyes showed so much pain and honesty that Ringo, knowing him for years, couldn't doubt.

For a moment he forgot about last weeks, full of grief and remorse, about a terrible second identity of Harrison. Thousands of memories including them playing together, talking, joking, having fun filled the drummer's head. And for all this time Harrison was in love with him? Secretly adoring him? This concept shocked him, but on the other hand, made him sad. Poor George. From the earliest memories his life consisted of sorrow and Richard wanted to be close to him, to comfort him somehow, but the guitarist was a thousand miles away of him, as far as never before.

Stop. He felt sympathy towards the murderer. He told himself to cease.

He still didn't know how to feel about this whole story, but it surely seemed logical. George have behaved odd sometimes — looking at the empty spaces, as if he has been seeing something there, talking to himself or to people that just haven't been in the room, sometimes his face would've been struck by a grimace of fear, he would've stopped playing and excused himself from practices. He was having nightmares and screamed in his sleep. And, after all, Starkey witnessed it before, when George had been fighting himself, with his face and behaviour changing.

George was writhing in his sheets, clenching on a duvet, shouting. His screams woke Ringo up, the scared man ran to his friend, trying to wake him up. But this didn't do much, as Harrison put hands to his face and his entire body started to shake terribly. Concerned drummer couldn't help much more than petting his head, combing finger through his thick brown hair in a comforting gesture. Eventually the man's weeping quietened down, and when Ringo kissed him on a forehead protectively, he finally fell asleep. This view was like a grip on Starkey's heart — he slipped into a slumber, until the last moments looking at George, ready to protect him at any moment.
The next morning Paul told him that young Harrison often struggles with nightmares, but never explains, what are they about, or why do they happen?

This memory came back to Ringo and he shuddered. He couldn't help it but feel slightly sorry for the guitarist after all.

But Paul was dead. They've known each other since childhood and George didn't even try to help him.

Ringo felt another wave of disgust at this thought, but right after that also confidence. John himself send him to "spy on" George actually! He surely called the police by now that Richard Starkey is absent for suspiciously too long. They're coming for him! He found new hope.

The drummer preferred not to think what they're gonna do with Harrison when they'll get him. He pushed this thought far away.

The time wasn't able to swipe the man's shock away though. The whole world turned upside down, the foundation slid down, leaving only a cruel hole of truth that he kept on falling off deeper and deeper. He couldn't be sure of anything. George has lied to them all, this quiet, nice boy that they all have known, kept on hiding a serial killer with scruples washed away by blood of his victims. He has lied to Starkey especially, hiding his feelings. Has he ever been the person he posed as?

Starkey felt a heart's ache, just now he felt a real pain, worse than the physical one, that Arthur caused. This one was more severe, because it reminded that they built friendship on a net made of uncountable lies.

So much pain. So many deaths.

"Ritchie... please, say something..."

What was he supposed to say? The drummer sighed quietly and looked at George pleadingly. "Let me out, please."

Harrison looked down and shook his head. "I can't, Ritchie. It all will be over. And I don't want it to be over. I'm sorry. I'll find some solution." He desperately tried to avoid the drummer's sight, so got up, walking to the door and opening it — a small trickle of light found its way inside. The trickle of light that Ringo hasn't seen for a long time and wondered whether he will ever see it again.

But the guitarist still didn't walk out. He stood in doors and looked in Starkey's direction; they looked each other in the eyes for a very long moment, moment, that both of them were too afraid to break.

"I miss Paul as well, you know?" he said. And then left.

The trail of light disappeared. Ringo was left alone with only darkness and coldness.

The older man leaned back against the wall, thinking about everything. Who exactly was the mysterious man created by Harrison's mind. Why did he make him kill? And why was George so afraid to stand up for himself?

A lot of questions was born but there wasn't any answer at all. There was only one thing that he could be certain of — he had to get away from here. If everything the guitarist has said is true, he needed help, he won't menage on his own, and the murders won't stop itself. There's more than that though, Ringo really wanted to go back home. His parents were surely dying, not knowing what happened to his son and worrying more and more with every newspaper they read. So was John, dying of pain and the feeling of guilt. So were fans who still agitated after the loss of their precious idol.

And if the guitarist really loved him — why shouldn't Ringo try to play his game? Blue eyed boy will make his oppressor head over heels for him. And then persuade to free him, to let go.

He was praying with all of his heart for this plan to work.