Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

February 29th, 1969,

Paul awoke from his slumber, sweating profusely. He had had yet another of his horrible nightmares that night, as he so often did when he was dreading the day ahead. In fact, his nightmares had become much more frequent ever since the band had started recording again earlier that month. It was something about johns cold stare that made him nervous, as if he were being judged. The two were further apart than ever, they barely even spoke and when they did it would be an argument over a song lyric or who gets to do a solo. But what caused the most arguments was Yoko Ono. Paul despised her. He hated her long black hair, her cacophonous screams, and the way john looked at her as if she were a goddess. It wasn’t like Paul was jealous or anything, why would he be jealous of johns girlfriend? It wasn’t as if he was gay, he had a wife who he loved dearly, he just wanted for john to pay him the same attention that he paid his idiotic girlfriend. But alas, that wasn’t going to happen anyway time soon and the only way to get through those next few months of tireless songwriting was to suck it up and pretend like he didn’t want to punch the woman at any given opportunity.

He rolled over to see his wife, Linda, lying peacefully in the bed, fast asleep. He slowly got out of bed and tip-toed over to the kitchen, trying not to wake 7-year old Heather, Linda’s daughter, who was snoozing in the room next to them. He poured himself a strong cup of coffee and buttered a ,slightly stale, slice of bread, we would’ve had toast if only the toaster hadn’t been broken for the last week and a half. Finally, he went back to his room and pulled on the same shirt and pant combo which he had worn for the last three days, it was starting to get a bit smelly by this point but it didn’t really matter because it was nothing compared to johns stench whom had recently decided to start using organic deodorant (that didn’t work), thanks to Yoko’s persuasion.

No less than five minutes later his cab arrived to take him to abbey road studio where they had been recording their latest album.

What joy he thought to himself sarcastically as the cab pulled up at the side of the road. He hastily thanked the driver and hurried in not wanting to be late, not because he wanted to be there but rather because George was sure to make some smug comment about it.

As he opened the large wooden doors he was immediately hit by the sound of Ringo banging at his drums in an uncoordinated manner, which he did when someone would DARE to touch his precious drum kit. probably Yoko

“you took your time, didn’t you?” George called from the other side of the room where he appeared to be performing some sort of ritual on his sitar.

This isn’t too bad i suppose He was just about to think to himself before his eyes wandered towards John and Yoko who at first glance seemed to be causing no harm and having a seemingly normal conversation until Paul noticed what she was sat upon. HIS amplifier, HOW DARE SHE

Chapter Text

The session went as usual, quarrels, fights, and distasteful remarks from john occupied the majority of those nine long hours interrupted by frequent wails from Yoko. John had been composing a new song which required him to yell the lyrics, “DON’T LET ME DOWN” over and over again until the rest of the band members ears bled. It was a catchy song really, but Paul would rather be found dead than admit it.

Paul had spent the time ,that he didn’t spend quarrelling over song lyrics, gossiping with george (martin) about new artists that had appeared in the news recently. Some strange artist by the name of David Bowie ,who Paul himself had only heard of through the song “The laughing gnome” which he found rather amusing but no match to his own songwriting, was rumoured to be touring the UK later that year with the band T.Rex and the two contemplated going to check out the competition. After all, it was looking like this album was going to be a mess so they needed all the information they could get on the current music scene. Paul had recently heard through an old friend of his that the rolling stones had also started on their new album which would tamper with the sales.

*Typical* He thought to himself *they always have to be two steps behind us*

The beach boys had just released an album a week before and is pleased paul to find out that it was just a mixture of some of their earlier songs. He had once been jealous of Brian Wilson’s angelic harmonies but those days had passed and the band hadn’t had a good album since their 1966 record “pet sounds” which after its first release, had caused Paul and John many sleepless nights trying to write and even bigger and even better album. Anyways, those days were in the past and Paul’s mind was now set on beating Jagger’s band in sales.

By the time he got back to the apartment which him and his small family were tempted staying in, he was still thinking about ways to out do their rival band. Perhaps write a song about their crappy lyrics? Or steal one of their techniques? He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he almost jumped when Martha ,their old english sheep dog, came leaping up at him to lick his face as her way of saying “welcome home”.

This was soon followed by little Heather bounding up into his warm embrace. Linda watched from the kitchen doorway, not with her usual kind smile but instead with a bitter expression across her face.

*shit*

“WHAT TIME DO YOU CALL THIS?” she enquired looking visibly offended.

“Traffic” The ,now quiet timid, man responded, avoiding eye contact.

“Traffic isn’t a time u half wit”

“yeah but it’s the reason i’m home late” he answered, trying to sound sorry.

But this reply only left her looking more annoyed, and so he decided to tell her the truth.

“Look, i got caught up chatting with George and forgot about the time”

“Harrison?” she queried, looking far more at ease.

“No Martin, Harrison has gone spiritual on us, always talking ‘bout gods and peace and what not” He joked.

“Fine” The young woman smiled “But make sure this doesn’t happen again, anyways, your dinners gone cold”

*fuck*

She wasn’t lying, a few minutes later Paul sad down in front of the television with a cold Shepard’s pie on his lap. There was nothing “Shepard’s” about this pie though, all of the succulent lamb had been swapped out for carrots and peas, courtesy of Linda’s all vegetarian diet of course. It wasn’t like he was against eating all vegetables, it’s just that he found it so boring and missed his succulent steak.

That evening, just as he was getting ready for bed, Linda called him into the living room for a little chat.

*probably to lecture me again* he sighed as he pulled on his striped pyjamas. She had been having so many mood swings recently that it was hard for him to look forward to speaking to her anymore.

They sat down on the ragged sofa together and the started..

“So you know how i’ve been feeling kinda sick recently, well for about a month really” She said hesitantly.

“You’re not sick are you? ‘Cause a lad who works at the studio has recently come down with such a horrible fever and-“

“Paul, i’m pregnant”

*shit*

“That’s great news!”

Chapter Text

The following few weeks went steadily for Paul. He had to admit, it took some time for him to get used to the idea that he was going to be a father, though he did already feel fatherly toward Heather, but once he had wrapped his head round it, it turned out to be a rather exiting prospect. He had never been the type to dislike little children and infants and had spent many hours changing little Julian’s nappy’s when he was small, but even so, to raise a child was a completely different matter and required much more time and effort.

His band mates all seemed delighted with the news, even Yoko congratulated the happy couple and offered to buy them drinks at the local pub later that evening.

Paul’s nightmares had temporarily halted and the band seemed to be thriving. All of them were working exceptionally hard and had produced two more hits since the news had been broke. All of them were working hard except Ringo. Ringo who was usually the more lively of the four seamed to be drifting off into a fantasy world every five or so minutes whilst staring in george’s general vicinity, almost as if he was lost in a trance. George payed no notice to this of course, and would continue playing his sitar as normal, as if bright blue globes weren’t eying him from the far end of the cluttered room.

“You good Richard?” Paul finned plucked up the courage to ask one session, but was only met by a startled drummer and a mumble which sounded something along the lines of “Oh, forgot what i was doing”.

John had also picked up on this strange behaviour and gave Paul worried glances every time he would notice Ringo starting to drift.

“What the bloody hell is up with Richie these days?” John puzzled, it was late hours and the rest of the song writing crew had gone home including Yoko. *Thank the Lord*.

“Dunno, he’s been doing this for a while now and i’m starting to get quite worried, reckon he’s been taking some new form of crack or something?”

“If he is then i want what ever he’s having if it will make me zone out like that when Yoko’s blabbering on-“ But he stopped himself “Ignore i said that”

Paul attempted to raise his eyebrow, something that john did all the time and looked rather cool doing it. But it seamed as though he had not yet mastered the art for it resulted in john letting out a snigger.

“Look if your fed up with Yoko, i totally get it, i can’t stand her yapping either, she clearly doesn’t know when to shut her mouth ” He laughed, thinking that John would laugh too, after all he was just talking about the same thing. But unfortunately he was wrong.

“Don’t talk about my wife like that.” John said very seriously and no longer laughing.

“Mate, you know i didn’t mean-“ He started.

“No. You know what, i’m done with you. From day one you’ve hated Yoko and all she’s ever shown you is kindness” The ,now furious and red in the face man leaped out of his chair and turned to face him.

*Great. Now i’ve gone and done it*

“You’re just jealous ‘cause i’m actually content in my relationship meanwhile you’re stuck with an old hag who acts like your mother!” And with that John abruptly stormed out of the room leaving the door wide open as he left.

Paul sighed. Their short moment of friendship had come to an end yet again. He knew he shouldn’t have said those things about Yoko but AN OLD HAG!?!

*The sheer amount of disrespect he has calling MY wife an old hag meanwhile his looks as if she’s come straight out of a horror movie!*

March, 17th, 1969, 6:30AM,

*It wasn’t a nightmare* he supposed as he led on his back, hazel-brown eyes wide open, on that cold spring morning. The sun was starting to rise and spread throughout the room ,through the gaps in the curtains, like a guardian angel protecting the shivering man from the terrors of the night. He was right of course, it wasn’t a nightmare, or at least wasn’t a particularly scary one. It was more mysterious than frightening, so mysterious that the ,usually quite clever, man couldn’t make sense of it.

Not much really happened in this “nightmare” ever. Him and John were sitting on a rugged sofa, much like the one Johns aunt used to have in her front room, but unlike the last time the two sat on that same couch together, they weren’t young teenage boys, or at least john wasn’t. The 15 year-old Paul Mccartney watched as his dear friend slowly aged into an old man, hair getting long and thin, skin sagging, and eyes drooping. That’s all. That’s all that happened in this dream of his and yet it left him feeling uneasy.

“You ok love?” The soft voice of his loving wife whispered into the chilling mourning air. She’d been woken up by his heavy breathing and wondered if he had had another one of his nightly terrors.

“just a dream, nothing to worry about” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“a dream? But i thought you said those had stopped-“ She moved closer to him now and he could just about feel her warm breath tickling the side of his neck.

“They have” He turned to her, their noses lightly brushing. “It wasn’t another one of those nightmares, just a weird dream that startled me, that’s all”

“If you say so.” She replied, not sounding as if she believed him, before giving him a peck on the cheek and dozing off once more.

Figuring that there was no point trying to join her in her slumber, he got up and headed for the study. It wasn’t as cozy as the one back at home, but nevertheless it served its purpose. He sat and he wrote.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t remember the first time he had felt feelings for his fellow bandmate, though he supposed he had always had them, buried deep inside him, begging and crying to be let out.

He hadn’t even thought of the possibility of being a homosexual until a few years ago, when he had walked in on Brian and Johns late night meetings.

It was the early winter of 65’ and Ringo had been having problems with a new song he was writing titled “What Goes On”. He had never been a natural poet and needed help finessing some of the lyrics, with the rhyme scheme and all that, and so naturally he went to John who was a genius when it came to words. He knew that Lennon and Eppy had late night consultations regularly “regarding the beatles public image” and so thought nothing of walking into Bri’s private office after a recording session one Friday night. He was left speechless when he came to realise that those after-hour conferences were no more than an excuse to rip off each other’s clothes.

“Go away and close the bloody door you moron!” He wasn’t quite sure which one of the two had said this since they were practically tangled up in each other with their tongues half way down one another’s throats.

The next day, John pulled him aside for a little chat.

“Listen.” He said nervously, red in the face “You don’t tell ANYONE about what you saw last night, right?”

“But-“

“No buts, what me and Eppy do in our free time is none of your business so keep your big nose out of it, Ok?”

“ok”

“Good”

Ever since that encounter, Ringo had started questioning things. He was taught growing up that “queers are evil and perverted” and had believed that for a long time, but he knew his friends and he knew that they weren’t like that. Ever since he was a young lad, he had been attending church every Sunday with the exception of when he was in hospital. He had been raised to believe that by doing this he was banishing sin, but was there really a way to banish sin when the sin in question came from within you?

George Harrison had been a dear friend of his for many years, the two had been inseparable during the early days of the Beatles. He had helped young Richard during hard times especially when he had fallen ill from pharyngitis in June 64’. But the two were friends and nothing more. Ringo understood this, and to a certain extent wanted this but there was something deep inside him that made him yearn for the warm embrace of his friend. He wanted to know what it felt like to run his fingers through his soft, silky hair. To press his lips against his.

He wanted to be loved by him, but at the same time he couldn’t. He had a wife and kids at home, a loving family who cared for him. Was it cruel to be in love with a man? But surely it’s crueler to be longing for another woman’s touch, isn’t it?

Ringo spent many sleepless nights pondering over these thoughts. He couldn’t leave his wife, not while the children were so young, and even if he did leave her, what on gods green earth would he tell her!?!

“I’ve never been in love with you, in fact this whole time my hearts belonged to my best friend who also has a wife and probably doesn’t even love me back.”

No. He had a reputation to uphold, the scandals it would cause if it turned out that the drummer in the biggest band of all time was a fag would be immense, Eppy would never forgive him. Anyways, he didn’t even know if George loved him back.

*He’s married to a model for christ sake, of course he isn’t in too me*

But there was still an element of hope to his thoughts.

These thoughts would carry over to band sessions, and he was sure by now that John had noticed. Of course it didn’t matter much if he knew, after all it’s not as if he can judge.

Epstein died late august, 1967 and it hit the band like a train on a track. Drug overdose. Ringo remembered the call like it were yesterday. The band had just started setting up for a recording of one of their songs when the phone began to ring. John answered it and the members all watched as the colour drained from his face.

“He’s dead. Brian’s dead.”

It took the four friends all a great deal of time to recognise that he was gone and never coming back but, even though they were all distraught, John took it the hardest. He didn’t show up for weeks and even stopped eating.

John had always been closest to Eppy but only Ringo knew why. He cursed himself at the time and for years afterwards for not being able to comfort his friend but he was afraid of messing everything up like he always did. John eventually found ways to distract himself from his grief, he began going out with a Japanese artist and activist named Yoko. He didn’t even try to conceal this love affair. His wife, Cynthia, found out about it through the papers and divorced him a short time later, gaining full custody of their son Julian.

March, 16th, 1969,

By this date, Richard Starkey was 100% sure that he fancied George Harrison, the only problem was that he was struggling to hide it. He was usually a good liar but had never had to keep a secret as big as this, one so life changing.

He found that he was often drifting into fantasies about him, not dirty ones but ones about what their lives would be like together. By this point Paul was beginning to catch on which was troubling. He knew without a doubt that Paul wouldn’t be disgusted by his sexuality, taken aback maybe, but he wouldn’t be against it, he was one of the more open minded members of the band after all and was forever striving for equality. But yet he didn’t trust him not to tell George. If George knew then his life would be over and their friendship would be ruined.

He couldn’t let George know.

“You ok Richie?”

*Shit. George noticed my obsessive gazing*

“What!? Why would i not be ok?” He laughed nervously hoping not to sound suspicious.

“I dunno” He paused, thinking “You’ve just been kinda off lately, have i done something wrong?” George was always so careful when it came to Ringo’s emotions, so soothing.

“coarse not, i’m just tired that’s all, haven’t been sleeping well lately” Technically not a lie since he HADN’T been sleeping lately but for what reason he would never dare to tell.