Work Text:
George Harrison was becoming impatient, as the youngest Beatle waited for something to happen. Frustrated he stirred and paced around the parlor at the track house, annoyed while expecting anything to start being peaceful and beautiful in the 1960s musician's mind.
His dealer of the underground pharmacy promised the young man these pills he just took would make him trip out, but so far, nothing!
Agitated, the lead guitarists of the Beatles, decided to walk his troubles off in the garden.
Stepping through the French doors, the musician gazed up upon the gray sky.
With heavy clouds hovering above, it appeared as if it might rain, but at the moment, the weather seemed tame. Still, the man trying to experience something pleasant and possibly enlightening, continued to walk about the peaceful sanctuary of the botanical section of the yard.
Everything appeared to be rather standard and boring out here too, but it was better than the parlor, the musician thought to himself, resolving he could use some fresh air.
Strolling around, George studied the standard rose bushes, lilies and begonias, like in so many British gardens he had visited throughout his life.
“You think they would have more extravagant displays,” a voice said from behind the man.
Startled George turned around towards the disturbance, and found no other than his secret boyfriend Ringo Starr, standing by the double doors Harrison just walked through.
“Rich!” George said while being pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?” the lead guitarist wanted to know.
“I’m not sure,” Ringo replied with a warm smile. “But here I am.” He further stated, then walked over to a stone path.
“Come join me for a little stroll” the drummer suggested.
“Alright.” George agreed, but as he approached his friend, the ground suddenly seemed to vanish, and the lead guitarist found himself with only a wire width of footing.
“Oh shit!” Harrison cried.
“What’s wrong?” Ringo asked, as his face blurred into three identical images, spinning in a spiral.
“I took something.” The youngest Beatle admitted. “It must have just kicked in.” he confessed, while trying to balance himself on the tight rope.
“It’s alright.” Starr said soothingly. “Here, take my hand,” he added, while reaching his limb out, as he slowly approached George.
For Harrison, it still appeared to him, that Ringo had three revolving heads, and was walking in midair, in-between some wire mesh, with large gaping spaces between them.
“I don’t want to fall.” The man tripping out declared.
“You won’t fall.” Ringo assured, grasping his friend's hand, and pulling him close.
“Come on.” The drummer directed, and the pair walked a few steps forward.
“Let’s get you inside.” Starr explained, but then George stopped in his tracks. His body was shaken, as he stared forward.
“What’s wrong?” Ringo asked, still holding onto his friend.
“I see a giant spider.” Harrison declared.
In reality, the tripped out lad, was facing an open and clear walk way. Unfortunately for the man under the influence of a hallucinogenic, his vision provided him the horrific image of a very realistic large brown spider.
Realistic in every way, except the vicious eight legged predator was the size of a sheep dog!
The terrifying arachnid seemed to be eyeing the lead guitarists up, as if he were a giant fly.
“And we’re standing on its bloody web.” George further described, while staring at the empty walking space between them.
“I promise you, there is nothing there.” His blue-eyed companion told him gently. “I swear there is nothing there.” The drummer further assured.
However, George still hesitated, frozen with fear.
“It’s alright.” The levelheaded man assured. “We’ll do this slowly,” he said.
Frightened, but trusting his boyfriend, George leaned down, to hide in his shorter friend's chest.
He tried closing his eyes, but the spider seemed to appear underneath his lids.
“We’re almost there.” George could hear his friend tell him. “Easy,” Starr spoke again. “There’s a few steps you have to go up.”
As George felt his body elevate, he saw a high view, as if he were hundreds of feet in the air. Like he was flying.
“Okay, we’re in.” Ringo’s voice could be heard, along with the French doors closing behind him.
Opening his eyes, George could see the parlor he had left before. Everything seemed normal. The shaggy carpet, the comfortable couch and reclining chair, and the large wooden television on the floor, was exactly as it was before he took those pills.
“Thank you, Rich.” The grateful man stated, acknowledging his friends help. Yet as the lead guitarists turned towards the doors, he found no one there.
“Rich?” Harrison called out, looking for the man who guided him from a bad trip. Immediately George opened the French doors to the garden, and called out to his friend again, but no one was there.
“What the hell?” George was blown away. Ringo had just been with him, and carried him through a living nightmare, to the safety of the parlor.
Frantically, George checked the other rooms in the house, but apparently no one was with him.
Holy shit! Had Ringo been a hallucination all this time?
Unable to believe what had just transpired, George grabbed hold of the phone in the room he was in.
He dialed Ringo’s number, and waited through the pending rings, until someone picked up.
“Hello?” Ringo Starr answered at his home, miles from where George was located.
“Rich.” George replied. “I thought you were with me, at the track house.” The lead guitarists explained.
“No, I’ve been home all day,” Starr insisted. “With me wife, and children.” He further explained.
“Are you alright?” the drummer inquired over the phone, with worry in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harrison assured. “I must have been tripping.”
“You shouldn’t do that alone!” Ringo lectured.
“You’re right,” George agreed. “But ironically, you sort of saved me, without being here.” The youngest Beatle told the eldest.
Then George proceeded to tell his friend what happened, and Ringo got a hardy laugh.
“You know me so well; I didn’t even have to be there.” The man on the phone declared.
“I love you.” Harrison said.
“I love you too.” Starr repeated back. “Now don’t be taking no whacky drugs alone no more.” He scolded
George just nodded his head, even though his friend couldn’t see him.
“You’re right,” Harrison agreed. “But still thank you. I would have been lost without you.”