All was silent in the hotel room, except for the sound of sobbing.

The main light was the only thing that was on.

 It was also the only source of light, for the sun had set outside the blind-covered windows some time ago.

The Beatles couldn't find it in themselves to sleep, the memories of what had happened in the past week still burning in their minds.

One the bed closest to the windows, George laid on his side, facing away from his friends as tears silently fell from his eyes and onto his scarred and wounded cheeks.

Next to him was Ringo, who was laying on his back, his grip on the covers ever so tight. Light sobs escaped his mouth, causing pain to irradiate from the spot that used to have a tooth in it. 

On the other bed, John sat on the front edge, staring off into space as tears too escaped from his eyes. He tried his best to ignore the pain that came whenever a tear would come sliding down over a cut.

Paul laid on the bed, pressing his face into John's pillow as he sobbed into it. His head, once full of hair, was now bald in several irregular places.

They all felt pain.

Not just emotional pain, but physical.

None of them could have known that a group was out to get them just the week before.

It wasn't until they ran into six men while walking to a bar in the night that they had all thought about how fragile their lives were.

They all painfully remembered when they were bound, gagged, and thrown into the back of the men's van.

They all remembered waking up somewhere dark and cold.

They all remembered...

The very things that those men did to them during the following week made them all shudder.

The knives.

The scissors.

The beatings.

It all made The Beatles feel that their very selves had been shattered.

It was the molestation that was the most painful to remember.

They all had to be treated to it.

They all had to see each other being treated to it.

They all had to experience it multiple times.

John felt as if the pain all over his body had intensified at the memories. Even he, who was supposed to be the toughest one out of all of them, could not bear to think about it.

Paul's sobbing only grew as the memories grew in his head. The pillow against his face became damp with tears.

Ringo pulled the covers up to his chin, his chest heaving as he tried to keep himself composed. His sobs got heavier and heavier the more he thought about the torture.

George was still silent the more he thought about it. Tears still fell from his eyes as he continued to silently gaze at the covered windows.

Eventually, he sighed and rolled over onto his back, turning his head over to his friends.

He wasn't surprised at the sight.

For a moment, he merely watched his friends all shed tears as they had been doing since the moment they were rescued.

After some time, George decided that enough was enough.

Taking in a deep breath, he opened his mouth, lips quivering slightly.

"W-we... c-can't go on like t-this anymore..."

His quiet voice was easily carried throughout the room, and Paul's and Ringo's sobbing died down a little, though the former still kept his face pressed up against the pillow.

John slowly turned his head over to the youngest Beatle, looking at him with so little emotion that it made George feel uneasy.

"W-what do you mean?"

George gulped, trying to gather himself to continue.

"This. W-we can't just... just lie a-around and c-cry all the time..."

Ringo, taking in heavy breaths to keep himself from crying, looked at George with his bright blue eyes.

"I u-understand... but... h-how can we g-go back to o-our lives after..."

His throat tensed as he felt another onslaught of sobbing build up within him.

"A-after... after..."

Ringo tore his gaze away from George and buried his face in the blanket, beginning to sob once again.

Paul, still sobbing lightly, pulled his head away from the damp pillow as he rolled over onto his back, face red and wet.

"I... I c-can still f-feel as if t-though their hands... a-are on m-me..."

The bassist closed his legs on reflex, grabbing the blanket and casting it over his lower body.

"It l-like I'm b-back there again..."

George sat up on the bed, leaving the blanket down so that Ringo could have it.

"I... I g-get it..." He said, hugging himself.

"It was... a n-nightmare... one that w-we will n-never forget..."

Everyone's gaze turned to George again, and the sobbing died down.

Tears silently streaming down his face, George continued.

"B-but... just d-doing nothing but c-crying about... a-about the past, and n-not looking to o-our future?"

John took in a breath.

"George... how c-can we go back to concerts s-so soon after... t-that?"

"T-that's not what I'm saying, J-John."

George took in a breath to steady himself.

"I mean... what about our lives?"

He pointed at John.

"What about your wife and son?"

He pointed at Paul.

"What about your brother?"

He pointed at Ringo.

"What about your mom and stepdad?"

He paused.

"And... w-what about my family? All of our families?"

George's hand lowered back onto the bed.

"And... most of all... w-what about us?"

Paul, wiping his eyes dry, took in a small breath.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Our lives together. Our careers."

George paused.

"Our friendship?"

Slowly, Paul and John moved so that they were sitting next to each other on the bed, both staring at George.

Ringo sat up as well.

"A-are we j-just going to l-let this... this pain t-take it all away from us?"

The room was silent for a moment.

Eventually, John sighed.

"We... you're right, George."

"W-we... we all still have each other," Paul stated.

"And... we will all d-deal with this together, right?" Ringo said.

George watched as his friends all grew calm as they waited for him to answer.

He took in a breath and smiled warmly, the tears flowing from his eyes finally starting to slow down.

"Yes. We'll all get our lives back and repair ourselves... together."