Flashback

"Get in the car, now." Paul growled. Richard obeyed, helping George regain his balance. Once they were out of sight, Paul made his way to who he presumed was Pete Best. His hands were clenched in fists and his eyes burned with icy rage.

"So you're the fucker who's been hurting my Ritchie."

"Th-this was all a misunderstanding sir." He backed away slightly.

"Bullshit! You were this close to taking another swing!" Paul completely lost it and shoved Pete aginst the lockers. "And you're gonna pay." He held a fistful of Pete's shirt and stared right into his frightened eyes.

"But I'm gonna give you a chance. Yer never gonna touch Ritchie ever again, and I won't releive my anger on your ass."

"You're crazy!" Paul produced a small knife from his pocket and held it dangerously close to Pete's cheek.

"I wasn't done talking, bitch." He growled. "If you breathe a word of this," Paul quickly scraped a shallow gash in his cheek,"well, let's just say I'll cut you something that can't be fixed with a few stitches." Pete stood in shock, not even daring to breathe.

"Do you understand?" Pete nodded vigorously. "Just know that I can, and will, find you if you say anything or hurt Richard." Paul closed the pocketknife and shoved it back in his pocket. With one more hateful glare that could kill, he stalked down back the hall. Still fuming, Paul tried to regulate his breathing as he made his way back to the car. Richard looked like he was crying into George's chest and they both just looked plain miserable.

'Poor Ritchie. I hate to see my sweet thing so sad.' Paul thought. He calmed himself as best as possible and used his hankercheif to wipe away the drops of blood that speckled his fingers.