Their visits weren't regular at all — they were coming just like this, all covered in black, walking out of the darkness. They've had the whole range of ways to hurt a person, sophisticated tortures and hits, and were ready to present them on George. The man knew pretty well it's just a beginning.

They were squeezing all kinds of testimonies out of him. Threatened him, tortured mentally, humiliated. He admitted to every crime they wanted him tom from the thoughtcrime, espionage, to conspiracy, incitementing to rebellion and even murder. And every time the pain was slowly becoming unbearable, he was thinking about Richard. George was terrified; probably the same was happening to him right now, when he promised the greater gods he will protect him. No matter what.

And where have all the promises brought you, Harrison?

Brian was watching all the tortures. His relentless words were ringing in George's mind: reeducation. Learning. Understanding. Accepting. The more Harrison rejected Epstein's teachings, the more he rejected Big Brother, the more frustrated the Inner Party's member was becoming. Reeducation in Ministry of Love was based on brainwashing the victim, making them submissive, and fitting in the rest of the society. To completely lost himself to the party. But Harrison couldn't, his heart couldn't — he promised to never betray Ringo, so he prayed for death. Prayed with all of his power.

But death didn't want to come in this darkness.

Insipid days were passing until Brian finally realised that his teachings mean nothing, that George's mind is still resistant; through all the tortures, pain, hunger, humiliating. That he can't destroy the man so strongly protected by love. And face the facts — it was the first case like this in his long, cruel life.

He stopped coming. Nobody walked to George's cell, consumed by darkness and coldness. No food, no oppressors, nothing. The victim wondered in fear what could it mean.

Harrison fell asleep with this question on mind, too tired to notice the hunger and rumbling stomach.

"George?"

Human's voice... George jumped on his feet, hearing it.

"Calm down. It's just me."

"J-John? What are you doing here?"

"Look around."

And so he did. They weren't in the Ministry's dungeons anymore, they were standing on the big, arboreous field; some old, definitely harmed by the time building towered over them. But what surprised George the most were... people visible from behind the red gate of the field. Everybody dressed up in various, colorful clothes, young ones, old ones, children with guitars on their backs, chatting, laughing, all free. Without a shadow of fear. It was magical.

"Where are we, John?"

Lennon smiled to him lightly; his face looked younger and full of life, hair brushed back and full of gel, wearing leather jacket and tight pants. "Far away."

"But..." he sighed quietly, wanting to clear his thoughts. "I know this place. It's Liverpool."

"It's another Liverpool. Liverpool far away."

They were standing just like this, overwhelmed by this magical and free place, hearing delicate sounds of guitar. Harrison wanted so desperately to see Ringo here as well. Happy. And, most importantly, safe.

"I'm so sorry it all had to end like this," said John. "Stay strong, Geo. The better tomorrow will come for you. You and Richard."

Some tall person with long eyelashes, delicate facial features and same hairstyle as John appeared next to them, laughing — George recognized Paul McCartney and smiled.

Their friend whispered quietly, "We have to go now."

"Wait! No! Don't go! When will we meet again?" Everything became blurry; the voices quietened.

"In another life, Geo. In another life."

* * *

They've come for him.

He was brutally awoken from his sweet dream — vision? First he was standing next to John, breathing the autumn's air, and then he was pushed through the long corridors... but now heading to completely different place. Panic filled George's heart, when Brian coldly said: "Room 101."

Room 101. The place where your worst nightmares were coming true. The place shrouded in darkness, terrifying other prisoners to bones. Harrison immediately forgot about his honour. He was yanking, fighting, resisting, screaming, oh God, please, no. A few hits made him more submissive. No. No. No.

This cell was more extensive — it also looked cleaner, but something terrifying floated in the air, which George couldn't describe, but it felt like death's grim laugh.

For the first time in long he had chance to look in the mirror, and he didn't like this view at all. Sunken cheeks, terribly gaunt and dirty body, on which ragged clothes were literally hanging. Face covered in bruises and clotted blood. Mirror showed him, George Harrison, skinny, tired, broken. He shivered, but was too tired to weep anymore. They did it. They destroyed him.

"Room number 101 is something that will stay with you forever," Brian Epstein spoke. "We were wondering how to break you, how to rip you off the humanity, how to turn your mind around. The answer is simple, very simple — confrontate you with room number 101."

Harrison was so tired. He wanted to sleep and never wake up.

"Here," the man kept saying, "people face their greatest fears. The one thing that changes their personality, and finally degrades their small minds. The worst nightmare lurking in the corners of their brains, the bullet for their humanity." He was circling around George as a vulture around its prey. "Do you know what is yours? Do you have an idea already?" Deep down in his mind he knew, indeed, but was too scared to admit it. "Bring him in!"

The doors suddenly opened. Two guards came in, leading crouched, bloodied prisoner next to them.

George's heartbeat stopped, thoughts turned off.

It was Ringo.

"Your fear is not death. Your fear is losing the ones you love the most."

One of guards yanked Ringo by his hair brutally, raising his head up, showing wounded face and deep blue eyes filled with tears. The view of those two small skies sobered Harrison.

"No! Ringo!" Legs reacted quicker than mind, and he jumped to his lover, receiving another hit from the guard and falling to the floor. The mist of pain covered the whole world.

Richard whispered quietly: "George..." He was struck by the oppressors on his knees. Harrison moved his lips, but no words could be heard. Epstein smiled cruelly and walked closer.

"Look at him. Look at this traitor. Do you remember the day it all started? The day you met him, and he brought you in this senseless riot?" His eyes burned with contempt while looking at Ringo, but something changed in his voice... he talked to George like he was a parent whose child played naughty, but was willing to forgive him. There was something appealing, some undeniable in this voice, that made the one believe in every single word. Brian was shining with charm. "Look in the face of the one that made you riot!"

Something metallic touched the prisoner's hand; he shivered slightly, and when his fingers tightened, he realised he was holding a gun.

"There is only one bullet in the chamber. One penance, one chance for a salvation. Your final test, Harrison. Surrender to the party and its precepts, surrender for once and give us your soul." George was breathing fast. Way too fast. And looking at Ringo. "Wipe this bug off the face of Earth, the bug that threatened your loyalty, kill him." George's heart was fluttering wildly — why him, why him? "You can also use this bullet against one of us, but you know well it doesn't lead you anywhere. We'll always be above you. It ends here and now, Harrison. There's no way back or forth."

He moved aside, giving him the room for maneuver. Tranquil as wind, knowing fully, that George won't shoot him, that there is only one choice, and that choice was kneeling on the ground beneath them. Harrison himself stood completely paralyzed, not able to proceed on thinking.

"Just do it," Ringo whispered. "Don't make it worse."

The man with the gun in his hands was no longer standing in this deathly room; he was on the field from his sweet dream and hearing Lennon's voice. See you in another life. He shook like he never had before. Fear. Coldness. Paranoia. But also, sudden realisation.

"Kill him." Everything was spinning. "Kill."

George walked on his weak legs in Richard's direction — slowly, very slowly. He raised hand and put the barrel again his lover's head, choking on tears.

He wanted to look in his eyes, detached pieces of the sky, for the last time in his short life. They stared at each other for a while, as if they were never in room 101, as if the death sentence wasn't hovering over their lives mercilessly. Harrison's mind exploded with every happy memory they shared: first meeting, clearance in the woods, their secret affairs, playing on the guitar and making significant plans, simple happiness like the touch of Ringo's warm lips, escape he found in their mutual love. Safe place of their hearts.

And then everything stopped.

From that point on everything happened within a fraction of a second. The guards and Brian screamed, running to him. Starkey opened his eyes wider, not able to react anyhow. Cold barrel of the gun kissed George's own forehead.

"I'm sorry, Ringo."

They tried to make him disown his own feeling and soul, loving only Big Brother and angsoc. Wanted to make him die and wither, betraying his lover. They will never achieve it.

The last thought was the view of his beautiful, big eyes.

And then he pulled the trigger.

The whole room shook from the gunshot.

THE END