Warning: Rape scene. Also, suicidal thoughts are back.

Angst: I'm back.

Me: Crap.

Also this chapter was a bit of a quickie so you guys get updated soon :3
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John and Paul somehow got stronger, which is good for them. But Ringo's dreams gotten worse every night. He would wake up in cold sweat, shaking, silent tears running down his cheeks. George would always wake him up right before Rory got to him.

It was the same dream but it got more and more real until it felt like Rory was physically there and the pain coursing through his neck when he bit him was real.

Sometimes George would just stay awake, watching him just in case something would happen to his love.

He would hold his hand and sing him to sleep (Ringo really liked his voice) and hug him tight.

"If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true. And help me understand. Cause I've been in love before, and I found that love was more than just..." He blinked back the tears. ".... holding hands..." He let out a shaky breathe. "Oh Ritchie, my Ritchie..."

Ringo was trapped somewhere George couldn't get to. And that terrified him because he heard of people dying in their sleep. So he stood awake for three nights straight, fighting back sleep.

"Georgie... You need to sleep, luv."

i can't what if you

"Georgie?"

i need to protect you

The guitarist managed a weak smile and pressed a kiss on his love's forehead.

"I'm fine, Ritchie."

So he stood awake for three nights.

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His teeth were sinking down his neck. He was crying, sobbing, just pleading him to just stop.

"P-Please Rory stop!"

It burned down there when he moved in him. His hole felt like it would tear open. He bit down on the pillow, muffling his screams. His nose was bleeding from the punch he received not too long ago. The blood already dried on the pillow and on his cheek. His cock hurted too from the multiple times Rory forced him to cum or prevented him from cumming.

He flinched when Rory pressed a kiss on his lips. A gentle, sweet kiss.

"It's going to be alright, baby." He murmured sweetly in his ear. "Relax a bit and it's going to feel good."

Ringo gripped the sheets, his knuckles deathly white. "I can't!" He whimpered. "It hurts too much..."

"You know what happens when you disobey me, Ritchie."

"N-No---"

He slapped him across the face, earning a muffled scream. Ringo dug his fingers on the pillow he was holding and bit hard when Rory pushed it all in. His eyes blurred with tears as he wished he just killed him instead.

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"No more! No more!"

George bolted right up.

"STOP!" Ringo screamed out of pure agony. "STOP PLEASE!"

Their bedroom door creaked open, revealing a bedraggled wide-eyed John and a rudely-awakened Paul.

"Ringo, luv, wake up!" George shook him. "Ringo wake up!"

"Ritchie?" John turned sober all of the sudden. "Ritchie!"

"W-What's happening to him?" Paul panicked, rushing over to the side of the bed.

"Ritchie wake up!

"P-Please..."

His eyes shot up.

George took him into his arms and hugged him tight. The drummer was shaking. He looked so small in George's arms.

"You okay Rings?" Paul reached out to touch the drummer but widened his eyes when Ringo flinched visibly, his fingers barely touching him.

John gave George an almost accusing look. "You should've told us, Gear." He frowned.

"I-I..."

"You could start with a 'Ringo had terrible nightmares this whole week oops I forgot to tell you guys'!" John snapped at him. Maybe it was irritation that it was four in the fucking morning or the fact that his best mate hid something from him, he was angry nonetheless.

"I-It's not his fault, John!" Ringo protested weakly. "I didn't want you guys to get worried---"

"Fucking hell Ringo at least tell us what's going on!"

"For fucks sake John let him finish!" Paul warned, tugging his sleeve hard. The guitarist's expression softened.

"I just don't want you guys to worry about me. You already got the 'coming out' thing and you argue alot because of that. I..." Ringo linked his fingers with George's. He was shaking, trembling, fidgeting. "I just don't want to work you guys up when you already got so much to worry about."

"Oh Ritchie," Paul whispered, touched. "Oh baby,"

John rolled his eyes. "Enough with the 'oh' Paulie, get on with it."

Paul shot his lover a half-hearted glare. "You know Ritchie, we wouldn't mind it a bit."

John turned to his bandmate. "What we would mind if the fact that you didn't tell us. Now tell us, if you don't mind of course."

And he did.

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"And that's it."

He would've went into another mental breakdown if George's arms weren't around him so protectively. His calloused fingers were laced with his and he squeezed his hand, giving him the idea that it was all right.

Out of shame and embarrasment, he hid his face in the crook of George's neck. He fought back tears threatening to escape.

"Fucking hell Ringo I-I.." John struggled to find the right words.

'That sounded straight out from a fucking snuff film.' John thought morbidly. Goosebumps broke out on his skin. It was like he was splashed with a bucket of ice-cold water.

"And the nightmares?" Paul's eyes were wide with a mix of horror and plain curiousity. But mostly the first one.

"They aren't getting better. They're---" George answered, his statement cut off by him yawning. "----getting more and more real." Fuck, he was tired. He felt like dozing off any minute.

"We're here for you, Rings." Paul smiled at him warmly.

"But you need medical treatment, Ritchie." John said carefully, hoping that he didn't trigger anything.

"I know you don't like hospitals, babe but John's right." George kissed the top of his head.

"I'm going to need to tell E-Eppy, aren't I?"

"I'm afraid so."

"But let's do it later," John yawned and stretched like a cat. "I'm sleepy, and you three are sleepy. And George looks like shit." He grinned.

"Gee, thanks John."

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"George Harrison, go to sleep."

He rolled to his side, meeting his cute little drummer who's hair was sticking up. He kissed his big nose.

His lips were pursed. He fought he urge to kiss him there and there. "I'm serious Georgie, I know you've been staying up all night."

"Okay, okay, I'll sleep." George looked at him one more time before completely shutting his eyes. "Goodnight luv."

He heard him laugh softly. "It's two in the morning."

Ringo snaked his arm around him and George complied.

Before he drifted off to darkness he heard a quiet, barely heard "i love you".

"Love you too, Ritchie."

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Okay so I'll explain about why Ringo hasn't gone to the doctor's yet. One part is the busy-concerts and that they couldn't leave the hotel much because of the fangirls. One part is that there has been too much drama in said Pennyroyal Hotel that Ringo hasn't paid much attention to it. One part is that he had been "fine", as fine goes, with George as his shrink or whatever.

But please, anyone suffering from depression MUST go to a doctor. It is an illness that needs to be treated and it could get worse over time when not taken care of. Surround yourself with loved ones also help (aka Ringo with George and John with Paul) and take the prescribed medicine given to you by your professional doctor.

Also I'm changing my outro because my friend said it was a bit egotistical XD love you boo if you're reading! Inspired by Onision, my favorite youtuber :D Love you Onion 😂

Whoever's reading this have a wonderful day and please know you aren't alone in this and there are people you could talk to whenever you are going through a rough patch.

Bye,

~Grace❤️