Uhm this is a pretty long chapter and I placed here important parts so yeah uhm carry on (my wayward son there'll be peace when you are gone)

BTW a bit of a long and important Author's note on the bottom too

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George's fists rapped against the door repeatedly.

"Ringo please open the door!" His fingernails scraped the wooden surface. "Ringo please!"

He pressed his ear into the door. His heart sanked as he heard gut-wrenching sobs from his lover. He jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn't budge.

"Ringo---"

"Get the fuck away from me!" He screamed at him. "Get away from me Harrison!"

He shook his head stubbornly, even if he knew that Ringo didn't have x-ray vision to see it from the other side.

He felt tears prick his eyes. He blinked it away, biting his bottom lip so hard he tasted rusty metal on his tongue. "I'm not leaving you!" He yelled back. "I will never leave you, Ritchie." His voice gotten softer, gentler, and Ringo almost went for the door. Almost.

"P-Please go..." He whimpered. George barely heard his voice. It was muffled and barely understandable. He must be curled up in a ball in the corner of the bathroom. The image formed in his head made him wince, and he struggled with the doorknob again.

Then an idea so ridiculous but oddly effective popped in his head.

He's going to sing.

Because, fuck it, Ringo was more important than his self-esteem.

"You don't realize how much I need you." He winced at how his voice sounded. He never really liked his voice that much but he had to. "Love you all the time and never leave you."

"G-George---"

"Please come on back to me, I'm lonely as can be~" He pressed his ear against the door. Ringo was sniffling, supposedly calming down. "I need you." George's voice cracked. He took a sharp intake of breathe, feeling the sob that was about to bubble in his throat. "I n-need you, Ritchie."

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George waited. His back was against the door and he slid down and hugged his knees. He fished out a cigarette and smoked.

And he smoked.

And he smoked.

And he smoked.

He breathed cancer in and out.

Several thoughts ran in his head and they were far too fucking noisy.

Tears pricked his eyes again.

you sure fucked up this time, Hari

"Ritchie?" He called out with a rough voice. His throat hurt and he didn't know if that was from smoking so much cigarettes or from crying so hard. "I'm sorry for what I did."

He hugged his knees tighter. He felt so small and afraid. Ringo felt so close yet so far. He was just across the other room but he felt like he was across another universe.

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What Ringo had wasn't even depression anymore. It was more twisted, more fucked up than normal depression. Depression's a long term sentence that makes you miserable and feel unwanted. Yeah, Ringo had those two, but did depression give you nightmares that feel so real even if you wake up you still feel it? He gave a glance at his wrists. Clean. Not a scratch or cut for weeks. He could still remember the black, twisted hands ripping apart the skin. He could still remember the runny red blood and his blue veins that just popped out. He winced involuntarily.

His "depression" or whatever the fucked-up thing in his head is, he hated it. He hated it almost as he hated himself. Almost.

The way George looked at him when he pushed him away killed him. The way the lad looked so rejected made him want to hug him and tell him it's all right. And when he sang George sounded so broken. He wanted everything to be alright.

But it's not alright, for fuck's sake. Nothing is alright. Nothing.

Several fucking times he had said no. But he still went on. He got more and more agressive by the minute. His kisses weren't even sweet and loving anymore. It actually hurt. Not in the pain-pleasure BDSM way. Like, actual pain. George had bit him several times before, in the neck or the lips either teasing or being "dom" or whatever John called it. He saw the animalistic hunger in his eyes and it morbidly reminded Ringo of him. George fucking Harrison had the same fucking look in his eyes and that scared him.

And like square one, Ringo was again curled up in the bathroom, sobbing his heart out. George had stopped banging his fists on the door (obviously locked) and probably went away. The drummer ghosted a finger on the bitemark (that broke the skin) on his neck and stifled a whimper. Pain shot up immediately in his neck. Ringo saw crimson on his fingers and he knew that it wasn't just the usual love bite George occasionally gave him.

When he used to be with Rory, he just didn't give him one bite. He bit him all over, usually without Ringo's permission and usually with the drummer crying in pain underneath him telling him to "stop please Rory it hurts please stop" several times before giving up entirely. And when Ringo says all over, he means all fucking over.

you should be happy i'm with you ritchie, Rory had said, no one else would love you the way i do. only me. you're mine. Then he'll be kissing him right in the lips and Ringo would gag at the taste of his own fucking blood in his mouth.

Then he'd beat him right after fucking him against the mattress. After the fighting and the yelling, Ringo would be the one saying sorry even if he didn't do a single thing in the first place. Rory would pull him into his lap and cuddle him and stroke his hair and say "i love you, you know that right? i'm doing this for you" before treating his bruises, placing sickly-sweet kisses on him. And for a while, he believed that Rory Storm did love him.

Then he ran.

He ran away from Rory and the band like some fucking coward.

And he met George Harrison, got in the band and got in The Beatles.

But he hasn't been the same since.

And here he was, crying in the bathroom.

it's starting all over again oh god no

No, he screamed in his head, as if he wasn't insane enough. George's not Rory! He isn't like him at all!

he just bit me in the fucking neck and it's bleeding oh my god

"He i-isn't like him," Ringo whispered, eyes wide and begging God or whatever almighty being up there that he was right. "George isn't Rory, he'll n-never hurt me..."

he just did and it's bleeding and it
h u r ts and it's b le e d i n g

"Ritchie?"

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the tiled walls of the hotel bathroom. His heart seemed to beat again, wheels turning at the sound of George's voices. He seemed alive again.

"I'm sorry for what I did."

Six words. He heard six fucking words and he felt crying again. Rory never said sorry, he sobbed in his head, he never said sorry not even once.

"I need you," A sharp intake of shaky breath. "I n-need you, oh god, and I'm so sorry..."

Ringo opened the door and saw a wrecked and crying George and he just latched himself on him, not willing to let go. Not one bit. Fresh streams of hot tears came down his gorgeous cheekbones and his body shook as he sobbed. He kissed his eyes and his cheekbones and his lips, holding his face gently as he was made of glass.

"I-I'm sorry I hurt you," George cried, his brown eyes glassy with tears. Tears streamed down his face, down his perfect cheekbones, in steady lines. "I'm so sorry---"

Ringo shut him up with his lips, sealing the deal that George was fine and Ringo was fine and everything was just fine.

"It's bleeding," The guitarist exasperated, eyes wide with horror. "It's bleeding, Jesus Christ."

"Yeah about that, could you get the disifectant and some gauze?" Ringo said sheepishly, trying to lighten the mood. George kissed his cheek, his lips lingering longer than usual, before going inside the bathroom.

The blood from the wound already stained his plain white shirt. Goody goody, he thought as he tried to put pressure on the wound with his sleeve. Paul might even faint at the sight.

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"I'm sorry," George apologized for the umpteenth time. Ringo didn't mind it. He thought it was cute, and George barely became a softie as he was always introverted and stone-face.

"I'm okay, Gear. I'm fine, I swear." Ringo cooed despite the ache forming in his neck as he craned it a little to give George access to put pressure on the bite mark.

George shook his head stubbornly. "You're not fine. I bit you like..." His eyebrows furrowed, looking confused and disgusted at the same time.  "... Like I was some kind of animal..." And for a split-second, Ringo saw a flash of self-hatred spark in his brown eyes. He frowned.

"You were lost in the moment. You always, uhm, bite me." He bit his lip, unsure of what to say. George nodded slightly, giving him the cue that he could say whatever he wanted and he won't be offended. He breathed out air he didn't even know he was actually holding in. He looked down, seeming to find the floorboards interesting.

"But I did told you to stop," His voice was quiet, barely audible. He risked a glance at the other.

"I'm sorry."

"George---"

He cupped his cheeks, lifting his face.

"I wanted to protect you, okay? Ever since I discovered that you were hurtin' yourself I... I wanted to keep you safe. And now I'm hurting you..."

"But you said sorry and that's what counts. Rory---" He winced at the name, memories flooding back. "Rory never said sorry."

George gave him a small smile. "Sorry doesn't mean anything if I don't make it up for it." He leaned in and placed a sweet but short apologetic kiss on Ringo's forehead.

Then the door burst open.

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Hello readers and uhm followers and other people there seeing this!

Okay uhm, I know this story has a lot of plot holes the size of moon craters. But hey I'll make it up to you because Rory has a role here in the story. He started it all, the dreams, the depression, the reason why Ritchie hates biting.

Also the parts where Ritchie panicks about being gay/queer it's because he suppressed the memories for so long. Like, out of fear he hid the memories of Rory in the deepest, darkest part of his mind. Also the cutting, Rory did that too. He tricked him emotionally and mentally and physically and just fucked him up.

Then George ripped up the scars and made them bleed again. Unvoluntarily, of course.

(i just cringed at the mental picture i'm so sorry)

I promise I'll update faster but sometimes I just go meh because I literally have no inspiration for this. Sure I made up some scenes but nothing more than that.

So if you got the time, please comment because it gives me life and it makes me write quicker. I swear I was about to give up on the fic (goddamn you writer's block) until beatlesyo commented! Thank you boo!

Bye for now (i'll update tomorrow if i get comments :3),

~Gracexxx