Chapter Text
Shrugging off his sweat-soaked blazer, Ringo strolled out of the cavern club.
The Hurricanes had just finished performing after what felt like days but in reality was only a couple of hours.
After walking for a while Ringo decided to stop for a smoke.
Leaning against the cleanest part of a filthy brick wall, he searched his pockets, groaning annoyance when he couldn't locate his lighter.
“Need a hand?”
Ringo's head whipped up in surprise.
The man in front of him was impossibly tall with neat, dark hair and a charming smile, dressed in a spotless suit.
“Uh-yeah please mate,” Ringo said hopefully “I seem te have lost my light”
“Sure,” the well dressed man said and Ringo found himself grinning at the sight of an impossibly shiny lighter leaving the man's crisp pocket.
Disarming smile firmly in place the man tossed it to Ringo.
Mumbling words of gratitude Ringo put the cig to his lips and lit it with his borrowed lighter.
The Older man stayed where he was even once Ringo had passed it back to him.
After a deep inhale, he glanced back at the man before his blue eyes widened in realisation.
“Aye, aren't you the guy who owns that record store”
“Among other things” the man chuckled “Brian Epstein”
Oh. Brian Epstein.
Even if you weren’t from Liverpool’s music scene, you knew who he was. NEMS. The polished shop with the spotless windows and expensive records nobody in Dingle could afford twice over.
Still, Ringo hadn't quite expected Brian Epstein to be hanging around a dank alley a few streets away from the Cavern at one o'clock in the morning.
“What’re you doing round here then” Ringo asked, caught between morbid curiosity and wanting to be polite.
“You played exceptionally well tonight, Ringo” Brian drawled, cutting in massively and taking a few steps towards him.
Ritchie immediately pretended to be completely interested in the rocky pavement, muttering a quiet “thanks”
“You're a friend of the Beatles aren't you?” Brian asked, changing subjects quick enough to give Ringo whiplash.
Ringo nodded as he took another puff.
“Yeah. I’ve sat in as their drummer when Mr. Best was a no-show. I quite liked them, though. It's a shame I haven’t heard from them in months.”
“Forgive me for being nosey, but what do you mean you haven’t heard from them?”
Brian asked in a soft, almost cautious tone. Ringo took a deep breath.
“Well, a couple of months ago, I noticed that the Beatles suddenly stopped showing up to Cavern Club. I spotted George there, alone, one night, so I had a chat with him.”
Ringo tapped the ashes off the butt of the cigarette before continuing the story.
“He told me that the band had broken up. Paul wrote a letter to George, telling the poor chap that he and John had run off to Paris. Pretty shitty thing to do if you ask me; To just pack up and leave everyone without even saying goodbye”
“Oh dear, have you heard from George lately? How is he holding up?”
Brian asked, now leaning against the building like Ringo was. The musician shook his head.
“Well, I talked to him about two months ago. After one of my band’s shows, I noticed that he was at the club, alone, again. So, I bought him a drink, and we chatted for a while. Near the end of the night, he told me that he received a letter from Lennon the previous morning.”
Brian cocked a brow.
“What did it say?”
“Eh, I don’t remember much. I was pretty tipsy, so I was only half listening. I think the note said something along the lines of John and Paul being back in Liverpool and wanting George to rejoin their band. Told him to meet them at your record store or something. Guess he was still pissy at those wankers because George was hesitant on going.”
Brian smiled in amusement, resting his hands in his coat pockets.
“Well, did he end up going?”
Ringo nodded.
“Yeah, I managed to convince him. I told him that life is too short to miss out on opportunities like that. Maybe that was the wrong advice to give to a young man like Georgie, but who knows. I mean, maybe their band will make it big. You never know.”
“It's certainly a possibility. Any idea where the three of them are now?”
Brian questioned, his eyes drifting to the starless night sky.
“I heard from the buzz around town that the three of them are in Hamburg. I don’t know for sure, though.”
Brian nodded, his eyes drifting from the heavens back to Ringo.
“Well, I do have to thank you, Ritchie.”
Ringo stubbed his burnt out cigarette on the wall behind them, staring at Brian in obvious confusion.
Ringo flinched when he felt something cold and hard pressing against his back.
“What the…”
“Do you know what that is, Richard?”
“I...I don’t….”
“It’s a gun. Now you’re going to follow me. If you scream or try to run away, I won’t hesitate….”
Brian pressed the gun harder against his spine, emphasizing his point.
“Now move!”
Mr. Epstein commanded in a hushed yet harsh voice. Ringo swallowed thickly but obeyed.
“W-What’s happening?!”
Ringo asked through his dry, raw throat.
“I’m taking you hostage.”
Brian informed him as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. Although he tried to remain strong, Ringo couldn’t help the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.
“Mr. Epstein, please…Please don’t kill me!”
Brian gave Ringo another hard shove-apparently he was going too slow-
“Don’t give me a reason, and I won’t.”
The older man stated coldly. Ringo was shaking so hard that he could hardly walk. As he was led through the dark streets, he could see the silhouette of a man in the distance. Ringo’s eyes flickered from his captor and to the stranger. If he shrieked, he was sure that the man would hear him. He could help him. He could-
“If you scream, I’ll shoot that wanker dead.”
Brian’s threat sent a shiver up the younger man’s spine. It was enough to keep him quiet and obedient.
The walk didn’t last much longer. It ended when they reached the front of the North End Music Store. Brian retrieved his keys to the store, still holding the pistol against his hostage’s quivering form. Once the doors were open, Brian pushed the drummer inside
the dark building before swiftly locking the doors behind them.
“Come on!”
The older man barked, dragging Ringo to the back of the store by his shirt collar.
“S-Sir…please let me go! Why are you doing this to me!?”
Although it was nearly impossible to think at the moment, Ringo tried to figure out why this was happening. He barely knew Mr. Epstein. He couldn’t have possibly done anything to anger him, right? Even if Ringo had done something, he certainly didn’t deserve this!
Ringo flinched at a sudden flash of light. After a few blinks, he recognized that Brian was pointing a flashlight to the ground. He could faintly make out a small, blue rug that Brian was pushing to the side with his foot. Soon, a small trap door was revealed.
Brian grasped at the handle and opened the door with a loud screech.
“Get down there.”
Brian commanded, pointing the flashlight down to a set of descending stairs previously hidden by the trapdoor. To Ringo, those dark, creaky stairs may as well lead to hell.
“I said get down there!”
Ringo remained a statue, his eyes flickering around the room and looking for any possible escape. A feeling in his gut told him that he would never see the sun again if he went down those stairs. If he went down those stairs, Mr. Epstein would slaughter him like a pig; he would cut his body into tiny pieces, he would-
Ringo cried out as his captor grabbed a chunk of his hair and dragged him down the cellar stairs.
“HEEEELP! HELP ME!”
As the drummer screamed and thrashed about, Brian realized that he was losing his grip on his captive’s hair. He retrieved the gun from his pocket with his free hand and held it against Ringo’s temple. Ringo instantly froze up.
“This is your last warning, Starkey! I really don’t want to kill you after all this trouble, but if you’re going to give me problems….”
Ringo gulped, fat tears spilling from his eyes as he allowed himself to be dragged down the stairs. Although going down a dark staircase with his kidnapper frightened the young man to the marrow, he knew disobedience would mean an abrupt end to his short life.
Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, they approached a solid, metal door. Brian put the gun in his pocket and retrieved a key from around his neck. Ringo’s eyes wandered up the staircase.
Sure he could make a run for it, but the older man would probably blow his brains out before he reached the top step.
A soft click was heard as Brian unlocked the door. He grabbed Ringo by the hair again before opening the door and dragging him through.
“Oomph!”
Ringo had the wind knocked out of him as he was thrown onto a pale, carpeted floor like a discarded toy. He heard Brian slamming the door shut behind him, locking his captive inside. Ringo didn’t even have it in him to get off the floor and attempt to open the door. He merely curled in on himself, letting out a long, throaty sob. Ringo was too terrified to do anything else. He could still feel the cold metal of the gun pressing against his head, threatening death if he tried to escape.
Ringo let out a gasp when the lights in the room suddenly flickered. He looked to be in a finished basement, complete with a sofa, table, and what looked to be several instruments
In the corner he could also see a short hallway with a door on either side. Suddenly, one of them opened, and a figure appeared in the hallway.
“R-Ritchie? Is that you?”
“George?” Ringo's voice cracked rather pathetically to his own ears.
“Oh for fucks sake he’s done it again” John Lennon's unmistakeable voice drifted through the basement.
Blinking fearfully, Ritchie sat up so he could see them better.
There they stood in the doorway, John, Paul and George, they looked a little rough around the edges but really they were no different from when Ringo had last seen them.
“Wha-”
Ringo was abruptly cut off by the harsh click of the metal door being unlocked.
Brian slowly made his way down the stairs, looking far more composed than before. This time however Brian wasn't alone, another tall, sharply dressed man with dirty blond, oiled back hair.
Ringo immediately cowered away and shuffled slightly back where he was still half laid on the floor.
Brian however did not address him at first. Ringo followed his gaze and it landed on the three boys still standing in the doorway, although Ritchie noticed that both Paul and George had taken a significant step back into the room since Brian had entered.
“You three boys should be in bed, why are you still awake” he asked and mentally Ringo couldn't help but compare him to a chiding parent.
“Yes, well you weren't exactly quiet were you?” John snapped
“Mind your tone” the man behind Brian warned. His voice was silky and sounded about ten tax brackets above Ringo's.
John simply muttered something imperceptible under his breath.
“What was that?” Brian questioned. sharper this time.
“Nothing it was nothing” Paul said hurriedly, a hint of panic cloying his voice and John didn't contradict him.
“No, I thought not” Brian said coolly "regardless you need to go to bed now anyway, we need to speak with Ringo”
“But-” George's quiet voice was sharply cut off by the stranger behind Brian.
“Bed, Now!”
With varying looks of pity and concern all three of them followed the command and dutifully filed back into what Ringo assumed was their bedroom.