Remember I don’t own the Beatles or their families. This is a fan fiction from my warped mind…….




It had started raining as John and George entered Abbey Road Studios. It was a drizzle really and they both shook their heads as a dog would to get the droplets off. Hanging their coats up they walked to studio two. Opening up the door they saw that they’d have to set up the equipment.


John was quiet on the ride over; his head still gave a light pound to it. He began to set things up as George stood there for a moment knowing that the time had finally come. He wondered what surprise the alternate universe had been talking about in the dream last night. He shook his head as John gave him a look.


“Ya gonna ‘elp me then?” John’s eyes narrowed as he stared at George and then turned as he moved a mic into position.


“ Yeah “ George answered quietly and then took out some guitars, setting them on there stands. He knew it was just a practice tonight and felt himself moving slowly as he helped. He couldn’t help the awful feeling he had. He’d feel better when Rita came. Hell, he’d feel better tomorrow, or so he hoped. He didn’t realize he had stopped and was just staring at nothing.


John straightened up holding his guitar in his hand. He looked at George staring at nothing and not moving. “ Don’t think of it mate. It’ll just fuck up yer head.” John told him knowingly.


“It’s an eventuality that’s stuck in me head. It’s goin ta happen.” George stared at the floor, his stomach in knots.


“The more you worry the more you cloud that brain and makin me nervous.  We wouldn’t be needing your brain all nesh now would we.” John winked at George as he pulled up a chair.


“S’posen not.” George smiled thankfully at John who pulled a face and then sat to tune his guitar.


George laughed at John’s spastic face and then started tuning his guitar too. They heard the door open and saw Ringo step through it.


“Hey all” Ringo said in a chipper voice and then smiled at his two friends. He walked over to his drums, and then his face became perplexed. “ Sumeone’s been messin with me kit over here. “ The drummer said annoyed as he started to fix it back to the way he had it.


“ Dunno, haven’t fingered yer drums luv.” John wore an impish grin as he joked with Ringo.


“Well by now you’d think the gits wouldn’t be touchin ‘em.” Ringo said calming down a bit from John’s joke as he finished.



A few minutes later the door swung opened as Paul entered with his arm around Rita. Both entered the room smiling with a glow about them. They both walked over to the other three Beatles.


John looked up and wiggled his brow, “ I think sex is in the air. Look at that satisfied glow on ‘im there mates. Although Rit I could satisfy ya better luv. Could show ya sume things.” John grinned wickedly at her.


“Oh I believe I am quite satisfied, but I thank you for the offer John.” Rita smiled as she squeezed her arm tighter around Paul’s waist.


“ Gizzit a rest son.” Paul jokingly warned John.


George got up and walked over to Paul. “ Need yer keys mate.” George’s right palm opened as he held it out. Paul nodded, letting go of Rita he gave George his keys and then disappeared up into the control room to talk to George Martin.


Paul walked in dropping his coat on the chair and went over to George.

“ We gonna record these right?” he asked.


“Yes I have the tapes already to go when the four of you are ready. I do need to be home at an early hour though.” The producer told Paul.


Paul smiled, “ Wife’s been givin you the business has she?”


“ I’m afraid so. I believe you won’t be needing me the whole night since this is a practice.” George said as he fiddled with the console.


“Naw, go off early, make the wife ‘appy. We can ‘andle a practice.” Paul assured George Martin.


“ Good show. Then I will leave in an hour or so. I know you lads can handle the console if need be and cut it off when time.” The older man waited for an answer.


“Sure, we’ll cut it when we’re done then.” Paul squeeze the producers shoulder and then went back to the studio and informed the others of what George Martin had told him.


No one notice the annoyed look on John’s face as Paul stepped in and told them all what was going to happen.


Rita cornered George before they started. He looked at her calm face and the flutter of nerves in his stomach dissipated.


“Good, you have Paul’s keys. I am going to set up a few things in the next room in case it’s needed. Then I’ll just watch you all.” Rita explained.


“If ya stay in ‘ere you need to be quiet, unless yer gonna go to the control room.” George reminded her.


Rita kissed George on the cheek. “ Don’t worry I will be very quiet, you will never know I am here. I don’t want to sit in that small room.”


George watched Rita go into the next room. After Rita set up she came out and sat quietly in a chair by the door. Rita listened while the Beatle’s work their magic to pull a few songs together. The time was floating by and she got lost in the wonderful harmonies and music they made when they weren’t discussing how to improve it. Paul had been a bit critical on his song, which wasn’t unusual for him. Rita could feel and see John’s growing annoyance and frustration as the night rolled on.


Rita looked to George; he turned feeling her stare. He felt the change in John too, Rita thought as their eyes met. She could see George’s face held a worried look to it.




The night grew on and the lateness made them a bit weary. Cups of tea scattered the studio with over flowing ashtrays that Mal had tried to keep up with. Finally they sent him home around 3am knowing they weren’t done and seeing their poor loyal friend trying to keep his eyes open.


Throughout the hours John’s gander was growing. He threw out sarcastic comments, only to be followed by just doing what he was supposed todo. What Paul wanted him to do. When did he become the leader? He was used the Paul’s perfectionisms but this was too much. About 4 am John had had it when he listened to a tune on the piano for what seemed like the fortieth time that night. A stupid vaudeville song Paul wrote for his dad. He was used to Paul sentimental shit, but this was way too much to swallow on an album, which Paul had thought up and John hated. This intensified the feelings towards everything as John threw his guitar in its stand.


“This is all bollocks!” John huffed as he stormed out of the room and into the control booth. He turned off the tapes and cut the power on the console.


Paul watched John, as did the others. He cut everything and Paul began to simmer. He lit a cigarette and then stormed up into the control room.



Paul opened the door to the room and then went over to the console to turn things back on. John gave him a scowl.


“ What the fuck ya think yer doin Macca?” John spat out, his eyes glaring at Paul.


“We’re not done yet.” Paul told him while concentrating on turning everything back on.


John moved to the console and turned everything off again. He stood smugly against it so Paul couldn’t turn it back on.




Rita and the other two Beatles watched as the two started to have words. They all knew it was coming. The shadows were pulling the strings as George and Rita moved together, with Ringo joining them.


“ You think this is it then?” Ringo looked at the two.


“ I think the shadows are now in full control.” Rita stated not taking her eyes off of the two men.


“ This is my dream.” George mumbled. It felt strange to see it really happening. Everything he had figured out. The months of dreams he had been having where now a reality.


Ringo shook George from his thoughts. He noticed how George too didn’t stop watching the scene in the control room as it unraveled.

“ But you have ‘is keys. ‘e aint goin anywhere tonight.” Ringo reminded them.


George wondered about that as he remembered what the shadow said. Rita could feel what George was thinking and knew he was right.


“ Should we stop them?” George asked Rita only taking his eyes off the two men for a moment.


“ Can’t, they would only keep it up. They are puppets in the shadows hands and don’t realize it at this point.” Rita informed George and Ringo.


“ Ya gotta do sumethin.” Ringo begged the two of them.




“ No, it needs to play out some and then it will finish. Paul can’t drive without his keys.” Rita reminded Ringo. She felt a chill come over her as she told him this. Was there something else? Something she was forgetting? She felt the shadows, the chill and the opening of the door to the alternate universe. She wondered if George was as in tune to this as she was. She shivered and he automatically put his arm around her and then he too knew what she had been thinking and feeling. Helpless for now they could only watch the two friends fight viciously with one another.



The anger rose again inside John. If John had been a bull smoke would have been snorting out of his nose like one of those cartoons Paul thought. He held back his laughter knowing it would only further the anger he saw in his friend.


“Who the fook do you think you are? You’re trying to take me band over with you’re pansy arse ideas!” John voiced loudly.


Paul was taken aback by John’s statement, “I’m not trying to take over the band, just had some good ideas is all. The other’s like them.” Paul tried to be calm, but he knew at this stage of the game he couldn’t reason with John.


John spit on the floor, “ They’ll do anything to shut you up. You’re a control freak you are. May I remind you how you got here? Ya joined me band, if ya hadn’t you would ‘ave never been a Beatle. Would ‘ave been a bloomin English teacher. Me band The Beatles gave ya the image that ya love at that and I chose to invite ya in laddie. “ John pushed his index finger into Paul’s chest as he finished the last part of his statement.


“ I know that John and together we’ve made history. We’ve written the greatest songs as the Beatles.” Paul reminded him, moving back away from his finger.


“ No, yer songs are crap, shite they are. If you didn’t ‘ave me they’d never ‘appen. Ya think you can do it without me Macca? I think not! If things were to end tomorrow, I’d be the one who’d make it.” John fumed.


Paul felt his anger starting to get the best of him. He knew John saw this and also knew he’d take advantage of it.

“My songs are good and ya know it. We might not be writing together as we used to, but we still help one another with them.” Paul told John through gritted teeth.


“Oh right, forgot son ya get all the A sides. That’s only ‘cause ya sold out and

write what they want to ‘ear. Ya don’t write the truth, from the ‘eart. I write the truth, I do and people just don’t always want ta ‘ear da truth. No, they want to ‘ear your pansy arse stuff, feel good muzack I think they call it now.” John pushed Paul more, liking the feeling of getting to him. He could see Paul’s usual composure fading and couldn’t wait for it to completely fall.


Paul’s face turned red, he put his hands on his hip so he wouldn’t punch John. His brow knitted as his brain took in what John was saying.


“I don’t write pansy arse muzack as you put it. I have come up with some gear ideas and like you, have pushed the boundaries in the music field and so has George for that matter.”


“George writes from the ‘eart he does. You just like to control everything. That Sgt. Pepper shite is just that, a pile of shite, rubbish fer the bin! What bout that old fart song you want to record? I don’t want it on the album, nor do I want that stupid bloody concept stuff. It’s bullocks and ya know it. Oh wait, yer the famous Paul Mcfartney, yer ideas are the most. Cor, Paul you even listen ta yer stuff? No truth to it, just plain rubbish.” John chastised him. He wanted a reaction, wanted to see Paul blow up at the truth and make himself feel better in the process.


Paul started to pace around, “ You’re an ungrateful prat! I was the one to push ya ta write songs, showed ya the right bloomin chords too instead of that banjo crap!” Paul’s voice raised an octave as he told John.


“ Me mum showed me those, would ‘ave figured the right chords out soon enough ya berk!” John stated defensively then focused back on what he really wanted. Now, he just had to push a bit harder and maybe they’d even come to have a brawl.


“Why don’tcha admit it son. Ya’d be nothin without me balancing you’re so called songs. Blimey Paul, ya write shite, the best part of yer songs are the parts I ‘elp ya with.” John laughed with angered sarcasm. He stood up from the console and drew closer to Paul.


“You bloody fuckin egotistical arse!” Paul yelled as he stared incredulously at John.


“No, got it wrong again mate. Yer the Egotistical maniac of the band and all know it. Sgt bloody fookin Pepper is ridiculous. Yer just a tosser from the Pool whose ‘eads gotten to big fer im!” John stared smugly as he stood toe to toe with Paul, waiting for the first punch.


Paul didn’t disappoint him as he drew back his fist and throttled John with it. John, being caught off guard wasn’t steady enough to stand up to the blow as he thought he was. He wheeled back into the wall.


“Ya want more mate, or you gonna stop this bleedin’ shite?!” Paul looked hard at John. John pushed himself off the wall and they fell to the ground fighting. Punches flew, John getting out the pent up anger that had been growing all night, and Paul defending himself.


“For fook sakes John! Stop this malarkey!” Paul yelled, wiping the blood from his mouth and giving John a disgusted look as he stood up.


‘I think not Paulie ole boy.” John laughed as he too wiped blood from himself and stood up.


“Right then, I’m off” Paul took his coat and found a set of keys in the pocket. He then marched out the door slamming it hard. He had to go before something more happened. His feelings hurt more then the beating as tears stung the cut on his lip. He headed down the hall for his car, determined to just get away.


John leaned against the wall smiling at getting a rise from his mate. He sat on a chair and looked at his watch. Nov. 9th 4:40 a.m., Christ, he thought, they weren’t supposed to drive tonight, Paul wasn’t supposed to drive. Fuck, he thought as he pushed himself up from the chair, swung the door opened and stumbled down the hall.

All John could hear was George and Rita’s warnings. Sorrow hit him as he hurried down the hall only to see George running out the door into the pouring rain.


Rita knew she had to stop John as George went after Paul in order to stop him. The keys! That must have been what the shadows meant by having a surprise of their own. She cursed herself for not realizing as she firmly planted herself in John’s way.


John tried to push by Rita, desperate to get to the door and to Paul. He couldn’t understand why this small girl was getting in his way. He tried to shove by her and was surprised at her strength.


“ I have to get ‘im! I didn’t mean it, dunno what came over me.” John pleaded with Rita as she held her hands flatly on his chest.


“ The shadows John. It was the shadows controlling you. They even made sure Paul had another key. You can’t go, you must stay or they will win!” Rita panted as she tried hard to hold John back.


John stopped pushing and looked curiously at her. “ Those fooking shadows again. George will be kilt too Rit. We ‘ave ta stop ‘em!” John told her fearfully as he thought of his two best mates dying. A tear ran down his face and then another, he bashfully swiped them away.


“ No John, they won’t. I think if I can help George, connect with him then there is a chance. He isn’t a part of this.” Rita quickly told him. She just wanted to get him into the studio and her into the room she prepared for herself.


“ ‘Ow do ya know they didn’t put him in me place then?” John eyed her questionably. He stood still waiting for her answer.


“ They didn’t ok? Just get back in the studio we are wasting precious time.” She exclaimed excitedly.


John shook his head as he ran after her back into the studio. He saw Ringo sitting with a long worried face. Rita put her hand on his shoulder.

“ I need you to keep John here and safe. I need to get to the other room to help them.” Rita told Ringo urgently.


Ringo shot up and looked between Rita and John.

“ Ya stayin ‘ere as the girl says.” Ringo spat forcefully.


John had hardy ever seen this part of Ringo. As a matter of fact he couldn’t remember the last time. Was it one of the fights John had with Paul or George? Or was it in Hamburg when John was drunk and out of control? Then again, he thought he had gotten that way many times since Hamburg. Either way he nodded at the drummer and sat down, not feeling very happy as Rita scampered off to the other room.





The rain was torrential as George pushed his way into Paul’s car. He could feel his soaked clothes rub against the seat, his hair dripping down his face and the chill that ran through him. He looked at a very angry and upset Paul who also sat in a puddle as the water ran from his coat and cloths.


Paul couldn’t believe George had jumped into the car as he squealed away from the curb. What the hell was he doing? Did John send him? Lost in his feelings he didn’t even remember what day it was or even what was supposed to happen. All he knew was his best mate had hurt him more then physically. Hearing the acerbic words from John’s mouth had almost kilt him. He wiped his dripping hair from his eyes and tossed his shaggy mane back as he glared at George and then back at the road.


“Why’da jump in me car?” Paul asked defensively. Before George could answer Paul continued.

“John told ya ta get me. I know he did. Who the fook does he thing he is? He say me songs are crap along with me ideas. Tells me I would be nothing without him and just goes spare on me! I’m not to keen on bein treated like this. Pepper is a great idea and me songs aren’t crap!” Paul ranted to George and then the hurt sent in a little more.


George knew the gravity of the situation, but knew he had to try to clean this up as quickly as he could.

“Look Paul ya know how Lenny is. He spouts off with ‘is gob before thinkin. Unfortunately he is harsher with ‘is mates. Ya know ‘e didn’t mean it and Pepper is a fab idea. Give ‘im sume time to think, ‘e’ll cum around he will. John never sent me to get ya, ‘e was cumin ‘imself. I just thought better of it if I came. “ George explained hoping to calm Paul so he could go on and remind him of the situation.


Paul ran his sleeve across his face trying to make it look as if he was wiping the rainwater instead of tears. George knew better, but turned away as not to embarrass Paul any further. 


“ Ya just can’t do that ta people over and over again and expect them to fergive ya or to turn a blind eye to it.” Paul answered quietly.


“ No you can’t, but that’s our John and I know ‘e will apologise fer ’is ways. We have more important things going on right now.” George emphasized the last part to Paul.


“ Don’t’ you remember it’s the 9th and about the accident? I took yer keys and the alternative universe made sure you had another set in yer coat. “ George watched Paul’s reaction and then looked out at the roadway. The car sped along faster then George wanted and the rain poured down in buckets making it hard to see.

:” I took yer keys remember?” George pushed his hand into the pocket of his wet jeans. It was hard to get his hand in them as he fished for the keys he had taken from Paul earlier. To his surprise they were no longer in there.

“They’re not here!” George exclaimed.


Paul realized what George was saying and for the first time in an hour all the events leading up to this moment came flooding back into his mind.

“Cor George I reckon I fergot about it. The shadows gave me back my key so their destiny would play out?” Paul glanced over wondering if he were correct.


George sat sideways, his hand on the dash so he could both see Paul and the road.

“Yes and they played you and John like puppets to have that fight remember?”


Paul shook his head, bewildered on how he had forgotten and let them take over.


“ I made sure John stayed so he’d be safe and now you have to stop the car so we’ll be safe.” George explained. It was then that he realized that his dream was again happening. The car was once again going in the opposite way that Paul had been driving and was head towards Charring crossing. Alarmed he looked to Paul.

“ Paul we’re ‘eadin fer the intersection. Like the dreams and visions the car has been put in the direction that the alternate universe wants it, just like they took the keys from me pocket and put it back in yours.”


 Both Paul and George noticed that the car was now moving faster and the rain veiled over the windscreen like a curtain making it hard to see.


George watched the familiar area and he could feel his heart thumbing in his chest.

“ Ya gotta turn around Paul!” George told him more urgently.


“ Ya know I can’t. I have no control. I wasn’t heading this way and now it’s as if they are controlling me to drive this way!” Paul voice great louder the fear emanate in it


“Shite!” George said his own fear coming out. He could see Paul’s face had paled at the realization of what would happen.


Paul was scared out of his mind. Now, instead of John he would take George with him. Why hadn’t he thought? How could he have forgotten? Everything played quickly through his mind. Oh God please don’t let us die! That’s what screamed in his head as he took in the sights that would lead them to their death.


George felt just as Panicked. What was he to do know? How could he stop this from happening? Suddenly a calmness fell over him and he heard Rita’s voice talking to him.


“ George you are not a part of this. You must take over and drive the car. Stop this from happening.” Rita told him as calmly as she could.


“ How? “ George answered her back in his mind.


“ Push over and get between Paul and the wheel. Kick him if you must or do what you must to make him release the wheel and move his foot. Then you can bring the car under control.” Rita explained.


“ Will it work?” George asked.


“ It must. You are not a part of this; you cannot be controlled as he can. Now move swiftly and be safe.” Rita answered and then her voice was gone.



Suddenly George slid to the right and threw his leg over the console onto Paul’s lap. He found himself half on Paul’s lap and half on the console.


“What are you doing Harri?” Paul asked startled at the sudden weight of George halfway on his lap.


“ I am not a part of this and I can stop it now. Move your hands from the wheel!” George tensely shouted.


“Can’t, I can’t move me feet or hands!’ Paul shouted excitedly back at George.


George hated to do it, but it was the only way. He kicked an unexpected Paul, hard in the shin and then pounded his arms. The pain made Paul’s hands and foot move as George wanted. Before he could put them back George was on Paul’s lap, his hands on the wheel and his feet on the pedals. He had driven mini go-carts in the states and a few racing cars, so the closeness to the steering wheel didn’t bother him. He felt awkward about sitting on Paul’s lap, but the thought left as he saw the intersection coming up ahead of them.


“George the intersection and the light just turned Red!!!!!” Paul yelled fearfully.


“ I know hold on!” George shouted back to his mate as both saw a pretty blonde girl standing under an umbrella to protect herself from the rain.